Chapter 6

For weeks, Charles and I stayed in touch and whenever I brought up the idea of coming, he would wave it off, citing one excuse or the other.

But I did not get offended.

I had no reasons to be. The truth is that he was a very busy man so I tried my best to make assumptions off my head.

Olivia kept asking for tea on the brief conversation with her uncle and I kept posting her, I told her the article was still in the works.

I guess she ate that up while I waited for her uncle to message me.

Then the day came for us to meet. I wasn’t doing anything that day, my schedule was free and Olivia was out of town.

Charles sent his chauffeur to come pick me, it felt as though he intentional chose the day of olivia’s absence to invite me and that got me feeling very wet in my rose bud.

I hoped that was the case.

Here’s a rewritten version in simple British English, from the perspective of a straight woman:

When I arrived at his place.

He was very receptive.

Very welcoming.

It was clear my best friend’s uncle noticed the feminine seductress in me because he kept stealing glances, I gave him a sight to behold with the slutty paltry piece of clothing I had on.

He treated me more like a daughter than a friend or friend of his niece, and that in a way was unnerving, the whole time I felt I was making an impression but the rigid distance he gave me got me feeling like I was unattractive.

But I stood in the business patience and watched as we grew closer, his behaviour started to feel a bit different—almost like how a matured man might treat his young girlfriend or a young woman he was trying to woo.

We had the interview and it was very brief but I knew why I was there and was never going to let this opportunity slip by.

So I told him there was an emergency renovation ongoing and that I wished Olivia was around, that I probably would have stayed at her place.

He randomly mentioned Olivia won’t be back till Sunday evening and I was welcome to spend the weekend if I wanted.

Ofcourse I wanted, so I obliged.

That very evening, He took me out for a long drive, to the shopping mall to shop for a few clothes and toiletries I would use through out my stay the weekend, I sneaked in a few pieces of clothings only a daughter of delilah would wear, and he paid.

As if that was not enough, if I was cold, he’d put his arm around me. We often sat close together on the sofa—nearly cuddling, though not quite. It felt really comforting.

He was such a strong, manly man—very masculine, the type you’d never think would be anything other than straight but wont be offended if a few gay dudes hit on him

Honestly, I didn’t know what to think.

I guessed it was just my imagination, maybe my own confused thoughts making me believe something was there when really, it wasn’t.

Trust me when I say this with so much glee, He had one of those strong, chiseled chins, it was something I’ve always been a bit weak for and he also had the most unusual brown eyes. Not that I could actually see them properly, with the brim of his hair carefully laid down so low over his face, his virgin looking lips got my thighs sipping love juice.

I yawned. “Where is your kitchen?” I asked.

He picked up quickly that I was hungry so he showed me the way to his kitchen and also the way to his fridge, it looked like a store house of different assorted meals.

He brought out one of the flask and I offered to help him handle it. He obliged.

“Did you cook these meals yourself?" I asked, "or you….?"