47 Hues
of Beige
Part One: Spring Magnolia
Raven Darkholme
sighed as she stared penisvely out of
her class room window. After all, what man would want her? She was of average
height and build, and her eyes were mere limpid pools of piercing emerald red.
She longed for an existence other than her own, one with more mystique, but she
knew her mother would never approve. Nobody understood, and after all, who
could? She was a teenager somewhere in America, probably North America, who had
no interesting features. Just a boring, everyday child prodigy with an untamed
soul that cannot be tamed, looking for a man to take care of her.
But that all change
one dark and stormy night, when she met...Him.
“Excuse me,” came a
voice all over her ear. “Is this seat taken? I only asked because I could see
you brooding penisvely here in the starbucks.”
Raven looked up.
What she saw, was an impossibly beautiful man. His moongouged orbs were as blue
as the sky, and twice as big, yet with a fierce fire burning within them, like
the sky when it’s sunny. His face may have been kind, but his hair came to
sharp points, warning you that he was no angel, and maybe the devil. He placed
his briefcase on the table and straightened his red tie beneath his blazer, as
blue as the ocean when it’s sunny.
“Not at all!” She
ejaculated. He was perfect in every way, except for the parts she knew she
could change.
“Can I make you a
coffee? In addition to being a high powered attorney, I am also a skilled
Barista.”
“God, he’s British too!” thought Raven
“No, that’s
Barrister. Barista is a coffee maker,” he retorted, seeming to read her mind.
“I am Nikolas Right. You can call me Mr Right. Or Nick. I don’t have a
preference. Would you like some non fat yoghurt that aids digestion?”
“Mr Right indeed,”
thought Raven
“Perhaps we should
have dinner sometime? I will make arrangements at once. You are a unique and
charming individual Helen”
“My name is Raven.”
“Well, you didn’t
tell me your name, and one as beautiful as you would surely have a name as
lovely as that of the woman whose face sank a 1000 ships?”
“Gosh.”
a a a
It was the next
night, and Raven was getting ready for her date with Mr Nick. She stared
alluringly at the garments and vestments laid out before her perusing gaze.
They had been sent by Mr Nick’s Manservant, Richard Gymshoe, and were all
sensually expensive. Little Black Dresses. Small Navy Pinafores. Petit Noire
Jupes. Some sort of shoe. All flown in
from Germany in his private Jet. All for her.
a a a
“I thought we might
have dinner in Paris,” said Mr Right, nonchalantly as he took her by the hand
into his stretch humvee.
“Wow!” exclaimed
Raven, who had never travelled further afield than Dallas, and that was to get
orthopaedic shoes. “I’ve never been
further from home than Dallas, and that was only to get orthapedic shoes” she
said, in an American accent.
“Ah, here is my
private jet. Do you like it? It’s shaped like a dragon.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
For it was indeed shaped like a dragon, a majestic, thrusting, long dragon,
painted purest white, the colour of purity and all things virginal, like Raven.
Yet Mr Nick’s piercing blue eyes drew her into the cockpit lustily.
“Sorry, my sweet,
but you cannot enter the cockpit due to federal law since 9/11. I know that
because I am a master pilot, as well as a billionaire playboy cum barista cum
barrister.”
“Okay then. I’ll
wait in the back until you’re ready for me then.”
“Okay.”
Raven stared
broodingly out of the plane window. Stared at the reflection of a woman grown
in it, and gasped when she realised it was her! Plain old Raven Darkholme who
was still a virgin despite being eighteen years old, was going to Paris with a
man on his private jet! Then she watched an episode of sex and the city on the
dvd player until they landed.
a a a
Paris was
everything she’d ever dreamed. Mr Right took her to the olive garden and they
had spaghetti.
“Oh, Mr Nick! It’s
so wonderful!” said Raven
“I wouldn’t say
that, little girl,” came a voice from behind her. She spun round and saw an
impossibly beautiful man in a cravat.
“Go away Niles,
you’re spoiling our spaghetti. I never loved you,” stated Nick.
“That’s fine then,”
said the man in the cravat, and he went away, but Raven felt her heart flutter!
A potential rival for Mr Nick’s affections?!
“I’m sorry you had
to see that. That man in the cravat was Niles Prower,” he said, throbbingly.
“We were lovers once, back in my Japanese Language High school. Did you know
that the Japanese have no word for I? My Ore Sama taught me that. You see,
Raven...can you keep a secret?”
“Anything!” she
ejaculated, her cardiac muscles aquiver.
“...I’m a
monogamous Bisexual. I know, it’s a terrible shame. Any woman who loves me must
do so knowing what I am...I’m basically like a gay best friend who’s sexually
attracted to you and won’t sleep with other men unless you want him to. I’m abhorrent!”
“No Mr Right!
You’re Beautiful!”
At that, Nikolas’s
fierce orbs became softer. Raven allowed his masculine gaze to penetrate her
limpid pools, and soon, they had made eye contact.
“Raven...my sweet
Raven. I had planned to put poison in this spaghetti, and end it all tonight.
But you’ve convinced me. Convinced me to go on. Come back to my mansion with me tonight! Let us celebrate the life
that throbs in my veins!”
“Yes!” said
Raven. He placed a hand sextatively on
her shoulder
“Then come!” he
whispered in her ear. “Let us fly!”
“But Mr Nick!” She
exclaimed “You, a master pilot of all people, must know that your outwith
operating hours, and must have 12 hours of rest and not drink any wine before
you can fly a plane!”
“I said nothing
about planes! Come, let us take our leave of the olive garden! Away!” with
that, he grabbed her by the waist, and began his descent into the sky on a
white horse with wings. But Raven could not help but think that perhaps, there
was more to this Nickolas Right than met the limpid pool....
to be continued...
