jypsyjones
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2006
- Messages
- 71
- Points
- 0
Hi there,
This story, and others like it, was first posted on www.adultsexygames.com/stories
I just thought I'd put them here and see what everyone else thought of them. However, if you're underage or offended by stories written about sexual scenes please do not read this. Similarly, this is a complete and utter work of fiction. Any similarity between this and anybody on the planet is purely coincidental and weird as all hell!
Thanks,
JJ
Tickle wash:
Intro: 14/06/2003
Jen opened the door slightly in trepidation. Outside was Lila, her best friend for the past eight years. They’d met in the first week of college, at an alcohol soaked initiation party for the new students of English Literature, and had seldom been far beyond each others’ company since… which made Jen’s reluctance to open the door quite a strange thing. But she did. Lila was standing there, a severe look on her face. She tilted her head to one side and looked at Jen.
“Are you ok, Jenny?” She asked, the slight brogue of her Manchester accent accentuating the syllables. Jen pursed her lips and her eyes began to redden of their own accord. Her head began shaking from side to side and, before she started to cry, she managed just one word.
“No…” The tears flooded down her cheeks and it was all she could do to stand. Immediately Lila’s features softened completely, she hadn’t intended to have such a hard expression on but it was all she could do not to cry herself. Lila he moved to Jen and held her close as the other woman began sobbing for all she was worth. The pair of them stood like that for a moment before Lila guided Jen back into her flat and sat her down on the sofa in the main room.
Jen bawled like a baby for ten minutes. Lila initially tried to comfort her friend but eventually settled for crying her own tears… unlike Jen’s, however, these were tears of anger and frustration, rather than the other girl’s mourning. Eventually Jen got herself under control. She looked up at Lila and her face creased into an awful grimace of a smile contorted by sadness.
“I’m so sorry, Lila. I didn’t know!’ Her face creased up again and she fell into Lila’s arms for another cry. This time Lila’s expression was hard, not understanding. She held Jen against her chest and patted the side of her head, but what she was whispering now was not supposed to be comforting.
“There, there, Jen. He’s not worth all this. Just cry it all away and then we’ll sort you out… we’ll sort it all out.” Eventually Jen calmed down a little, again apologising to Lila who accepted nothing of the sort.
“We’re going to get you out of this funk, Jen!” She cried. “It’s no good you sitting around here all the time… he’s not worth it! We’re going to get you up, showered and dressed in something slim and sexy. Then we’re going to go and get manicures, pedicures and every other type of cure you need! After that it’s time for a girl’s night out.” Lila stood and dragged the protesting Jen to her feet, leading her to the bathroom and closing her in. For a moment Lila considered following her friend inside, but decided against it. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘Jen’s been through too much for me to try that…’
Inside the bathroom Jen initially protested and finally got on with it. Truth be told she’d spent enough time being consoled and crying. It was time to try and rebuild something of her life and her shattered confidence. She looked herself in the mirror and saw a pretty face made unsightly by tears and sadness. Her hair was a mess and she’d been wearing the same pyjamas constantly for the best part of a week. The old Jen wouldn’t have stood for any of that, neither would the new one.
“I’ll be a while, Lila,” she called, “I’m going to wash my hair.” Outside her friend smiled to herself.
“I’ll just put the kettle on,” Lila replied, happy at a difficult job well done. Two cups and half a magazine later, Lila looked up and felt her stomach drop away. The old Jen was back! In fact, it was more like she’d never gone away. Whereas before she’d looked sad, now Jen had her pale and perfect skin made up perfectly.
Instead of the frumpy pyjamas she now wore a sleeveless Channel blouse of pure Egyptian cotton. Her DKNY dress stopped where most began and her heeled Yves Saint Lauren shoes pushed her a good three inches off the ground. Only in her eyes was there a trace of the wreck who’d opened the door half an hour before. The old Jen had the confidence of a con artist. The new one seemed unsure about everything.
“Wow,” was all that Lila could say, her heart beating faster than she could think. It was all she could do not to let a tremor enter her voice… Jen was looking scorching! Lila made a show of crossing her legs, supposedly to make herself more comfortable but in reality to hide the shivering that was filling her body.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” asked Jen, tentatively. Rallying magnificently, Lila stood without a trace of her inner turmoil.
“I think it’s not only too much, it’s practically too little! It’s perfect! You look…” she sought for the right word, “Stunning.” Jen smiled like a little girl being complemented by her cool aunt. At the stage she was in it was very difficult for her to be anything beyond a little child so ruinous had Toby’s actions been.
“What are we going to do?” asked Jen.
“I’ve booked us in for a manicure and pedicure at ‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages’ just round the corner. Jen looked shocked.
“Oh no, Lila, I can’t go out looking like this!”
“Nonsense, girl! We’re going to show that arsehole just what he turned his back on a week ago!” It was a step too far. Jen felt the tears before she realised they were even coming. Lila saw the damage her ill judged words had wrought and went close to her friend. She held Jen and whispered softly into her ear.
“I’m sorry Jen. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Jen held in the tears as best she could. A few rolled down her face, smudging her mascara slightly, but it wasn’t the full waterworks of before. Lila wiped the tears away and lent Jen back slightly.
“But we really do have to get you out of here! This was meant to be your honeymoon, not a prison sentence. Let’s just go and try to have some fun.” Jen laughed through her tears and nodded. She dried her eyes and deftly altered the make up that had smeared across her cheeks before grabbing her Gucci bag and joining her friend at the door. She looked back at her apartment briefly before putting a confident look on her face.
“This is a new Jen stepping through this door,” she said. Lila laughed.
“Just as long as she’s as much fun as the old one!” They laughed together and walked out little knowing that it would be a very different Jen who would next return to her apartment.
‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages’ was an extraordinarily expensive beauty salon found near the King’s road in London. It had been founded by Christian Du Pont, the famed Parisian designer, who had an outlet for his unique creations next door. However, he didn’t like the idea that the women who crossed his threshold might dare be anything other than perfect, so he created the salon to make them so. Jen and Lila entered the shop and were greeted by a stunningly attractive Asian woman who was made up in a wonderful Chinese style dress.
“May I help you?” The voice reeked of class and education, just as the expression was somewhat withdrawn and resigned… like the woman didn’t understand what two girls like these could be doing in such a place. Lila was taken aback. Her Mancunian roots were pretty evident to anyone who spoke to her and she was seldom described as the most well bred of people. The prospect of the salon suddenly terrified her. Jen, on the other hand, was a born and bred west Londoner so knew the etiquette right down to pat.
“Lila Jones and Jennifer Taylor-Moore here for our ten o’clock appointment.” Her voice was as classy as a duchess’ while also managing to combine that class with both anger and arrogance. It always amazed Lila how such a nice person as Jen could just turn on such an arrogant bitch as Jennifer! However, in times, and shops, like this one it tended to get the results and five minutes later they were seated in luxurious leather chairs each having their hands expertly massaged by two other Asian women dressed like the hostess, though not quite as well.
“This is the life, eh Jen?” Lila looked at her friend who seemed to have sunken a good foot into her chair. Jen smiled.
“It certainly is.” She sat up slightly. “I tell you what, Lila, how’s about we try on some of the dresses next door afterwards?” Lila sat bolt upright.
“Jen, no! The cheapest one’s worth almost a month’s pay!” Jen leaned across.
“They don’t need to know we won’t buy them!” she whispered, “Besides, I’ve got a bit of money because of…” her voice choked slightly but she recovered, “Because of the holiday refund.” Lila looked at Jen and smiled softly.
“Ok, Jen, why not?” The women massaging their hands continued to their feet and then onto the women’s faces before finally announcing that their work was done. Both Jen and Lila felt refreshed, energised and beautiful. They looked at each other.
“You…!”
“You…!” They squealed in delight, like school girls trying make up for the first time. The two Asian masseurs smiled and bowed, preparing to take their leave. Jen and Lila thanked them excessively and tried to tip them but the other women held up their hands and wouldn’t accept a thing. Finally, just as the two of them were about to go, Lila nudged Jen with an encouraging look on her face.
“Err, excuse me?” asked Jen before realising that that was no way to get things done in a place like ‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages.’ She started again in her most imperious voice.
“Could you please inform the manageress that Ms Jones and I would like to try on some of the dresses next door.” The two Asians bowed again and walked out. Lila looked at Jen in some trepidation but Jen simply smiled and indicated that the Mancunian should calm down, though she herself did not fell calm at all! The manageress strolled in, everything about her radiating Oriental exoticness subtly mixed with English aristocracy.
“May I help you?” she asked again. Jen, in a small voice, asked whether she and her friend could try on some of Du Pont’s dresses next door. The Asian woman looked at the two of them, as if reading their minds. ‘She’s not going to go for it! She’s not going to go for it!’ was all Lila could think. But contrary to her expectations the manageress, her face opening into a radiant smile, invited them next door. They followed her, each weak with relief at their success.
The clothes were beyond beautiful. Everything about them exuded class. They were classic, but original… revealing but reserved… soft yet firm… everything that attire were meant to be. Jen and Lila were in heaven. They’d been led to a changing room at the rear where they’d each taken off their own most expensive clothes. A single scarf from the shop they were in would’ve covered the cost of everything they had on. Once stripped down to their small things they were invited to put on a dressing robe and peruse the catalogue.
Lila emerged thanking God that she was wearing her best bra and panties, a matching set of black lace that supported and revealed, though weren’t sluttish, in equal measure. Her 36DD breasts were still nice and firm at the age of twenty six and there was scarcely a trace of cellulite anywhere on her trim body. She shaved regularly, especially around her pubic mound, and used many expensive moisturisers on her quite dark skin. It often surprised people to find out she was from Manchester. They always thought she had to have Mediterranean origins.
Jen, on the other hand, was very much a part of the English aristocracy. Like Lila she was twenty six but that was where most of the similarities ended. She’d been educated at boarding school where she’d learnt how to be as tough as nails mentally, while discovering how to the most of unflattering school uniforms and bans on make up. She was only a little taller than Lila, five nine to the latter’s five seven, but seemed much higher due to her very slim figure and achingly long legs.
Her skin was white and pure as driven snow, her straight blonde hair creeping down beyond her shoulders. Her breasts were smaller than Lila’s, at a 34C, but sat high and proud on her chest. There was nothing too her, really, which always annoyed Lila. Jen ate like a horse yet didn’t put on a pound. Lila believed she merely had to look at food to feel her ass sag and hips grow. In short, both women were very attractive. They were about to accentuate that natural beauty with Du Pont’s clothes.
Dress after dress arrived, was tried on and was examined, in the mirror, minutely. The manageress produced a digital camera and took pictures of the two of them from dozens of angles so that they could see how they looked naturally, as a pose to straining their necks to look in the various mirrors of the room. Eventually, after three hours since entering the shop, Lila and Jen picked what they each liked the most and Jen paid for them. Each had an evening dress that, Mai Ling promised, would never be replicated by Du Pont again, as well as some skirts, tops and trousers. Mai Ling also threw in some exquisite lingerie for both of them free of charge… after all, Jen had just paid her a five figure sum!
Just as they were leaving for lunch, still on the high of having had so much fun without the bitter reality of just how much they’d spent crashing down, Mai Ling asked to see Jen for a moment. The two girls looked at each other in horror. What had gone wrong? Had the card not worked? Had the bank called? Had it all been an obscure trick? Were they actually dreaming? Jen asked Lila to wait near the front with their bags while she went to the back to talk to the manageress. She returned five minutes later.
“What was wrong?” asked Lila eagerly, desperately curious but terrified of what the answer might be.
“Nothing,” replied Jen with a frown, “She just wanted to give me this card.” She showed it to Lila. It was a business card for a doctor, a general practitioner who worked nearby called Dr. Tress. She specialised in women’s problems, so the card stated.
“What does she mean women’s problems?” asked Lila indignantly, once they’d left the shop.
“I asked that too,” replied Jen thoughtfully. “I thought she must’ve thought I was ill or something but she simply said that she knew what I’d been through over the last week and that this doctor could help me through it… that she’d been through something similar and would’ve probably killed herself without Dr. Tress’ help…” Lila looked at her friend with a worried look.
“You’re not… err… planning on anything like that are you, Jen?” Jen looked at her, confused for a moment. She realised what Lila was suggesting.
“Oh no, no,” she replied hastily, before continuing in the same thoughtful voice of before, “It’s just she said that, after Dr. Tress helped her, she never felt hurt by a man again.” She turned the card over and over in her hand.
“How did she know about you and… err… Toby?” asked Lila.
“She must’ve heard us talk about it, or maybe the people doing our hands did,” responded Jen, “She said that she’d actually been married for a month when her husband left her for her sister!”
“How awful!”
“Exactly… at least I didn’t get hitched to the silly bastard...” Jen looked down at the card, her whole face puckering as the tears, which were never far away, threatened to engulf her. Lila quickly broke her out of her reverie.
“Well, let’s get lunch, I’m starving!” Jen laughed with her friend and they went to get some food. Lila had to go home after lunch but Jen assured her that not only was she alright but Lila didn’t have to worry about the clothes either.
“You’ve done more to get me back on my feet than any amount of consoling or crying could do. Thank you.” She leant forwards and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Lila let herself melt into the intimate gesture and held Jen close before finally breaking off and turning away. She walked off and looked at her friend for a moment, imagining all the ways she’d like to comfort her… but she didn’t. Instead she took the tube home and it was only when she arrived that she realised that she’d left Jen to pay for lunch too!
Jen, for her part, still felt the deep hole in her soul created by her fiancée Toby, who simply hadn’t turned up for their wedding… along with his ex-girlfriend who’d appeared three days before. Jen couldn’t bring herself to hate him but his treachery was too huge a wound and if felt like it would never heal. She turned over the card Mai Ling had given her and remembered the look in the Asian beauty’s face: she’d been close to suicide but Dr. Tress had helped her through… it was only five minutes walk away… Jen decided she’d go after a second cup of coffee.
TO BE CONTINUED…
This story, and others like it, was first posted on www.adultsexygames.com/stories
I just thought I'd put them here and see what everyone else thought of them. However, if you're underage or offended by stories written about sexual scenes please do not read this. Similarly, this is a complete and utter work of fiction. Any similarity between this and anybody on the planet is purely coincidental and weird as all hell!
Thanks,
JJ
Tickle wash:
Intro: 14/06/2003
Jen opened the door slightly in trepidation. Outside was Lila, her best friend for the past eight years. They’d met in the first week of college, at an alcohol soaked initiation party for the new students of English Literature, and had seldom been far beyond each others’ company since… which made Jen’s reluctance to open the door quite a strange thing. But she did. Lila was standing there, a severe look on her face. She tilted her head to one side and looked at Jen.
“Are you ok, Jenny?” She asked, the slight brogue of her Manchester accent accentuating the syllables. Jen pursed her lips and her eyes began to redden of their own accord. Her head began shaking from side to side and, before she started to cry, she managed just one word.
“No…” The tears flooded down her cheeks and it was all she could do to stand. Immediately Lila’s features softened completely, she hadn’t intended to have such a hard expression on but it was all she could do not to cry herself. Lila he moved to Jen and held her close as the other woman began sobbing for all she was worth. The pair of them stood like that for a moment before Lila guided Jen back into her flat and sat her down on the sofa in the main room.
Jen bawled like a baby for ten minutes. Lila initially tried to comfort her friend but eventually settled for crying her own tears… unlike Jen’s, however, these were tears of anger and frustration, rather than the other girl’s mourning. Eventually Jen got herself under control. She looked up at Lila and her face creased into an awful grimace of a smile contorted by sadness.
“I’m so sorry, Lila. I didn’t know!’ Her face creased up again and she fell into Lila’s arms for another cry. This time Lila’s expression was hard, not understanding. She held Jen against her chest and patted the side of her head, but what she was whispering now was not supposed to be comforting.
“There, there, Jen. He’s not worth all this. Just cry it all away and then we’ll sort you out… we’ll sort it all out.” Eventually Jen calmed down a little, again apologising to Lila who accepted nothing of the sort.
“We’re going to get you out of this funk, Jen!” She cried. “It’s no good you sitting around here all the time… he’s not worth it! We’re going to get you up, showered and dressed in something slim and sexy. Then we’re going to go and get manicures, pedicures and every other type of cure you need! After that it’s time for a girl’s night out.” Lila stood and dragged the protesting Jen to her feet, leading her to the bathroom and closing her in. For a moment Lila considered following her friend inside, but decided against it. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘Jen’s been through too much for me to try that…’
Inside the bathroom Jen initially protested and finally got on with it. Truth be told she’d spent enough time being consoled and crying. It was time to try and rebuild something of her life and her shattered confidence. She looked herself in the mirror and saw a pretty face made unsightly by tears and sadness. Her hair was a mess and she’d been wearing the same pyjamas constantly for the best part of a week. The old Jen wouldn’t have stood for any of that, neither would the new one.
“I’ll be a while, Lila,” she called, “I’m going to wash my hair.” Outside her friend smiled to herself.
“I’ll just put the kettle on,” Lila replied, happy at a difficult job well done. Two cups and half a magazine later, Lila looked up and felt her stomach drop away. The old Jen was back! In fact, it was more like she’d never gone away. Whereas before she’d looked sad, now Jen had her pale and perfect skin made up perfectly.
Instead of the frumpy pyjamas she now wore a sleeveless Channel blouse of pure Egyptian cotton. Her DKNY dress stopped where most began and her heeled Yves Saint Lauren shoes pushed her a good three inches off the ground. Only in her eyes was there a trace of the wreck who’d opened the door half an hour before. The old Jen had the confidence of a con artist. The new one seemed unsure about everything.
“Wow,” was all that Lila could say, her heart beating faster than she could think. It was all she could do not to let a tremor enter her voice… Jen was looking scorching! Lila made a show of crossing her legs, supposedly to make herself more comfortable but in reality to hide the shivering that was filling her body.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” asked Jen, tentatively. Rallying magnificently, Lila stood without a trace of her inner turmoil.
“I think it’s not only too much, it’s practically too little! It’s perfect! You look…” she sought for the right word, “Stunning.” Jen smiled like a little girl being complemented by her cool aunt. At the stage she was in it was very difficult for her to be anything beyond a little child so ruinous had Toby’s actions been.
“What are we going to do?” asked Jen.
“I’ve booked us in for a manicure and pedicure at ‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages’ just round the corner. Jen looked shocked.
“Oh no, Lila, I can’t go out looking like this!”
“Nonsense, girl! We’re going to show that arsehole just what he turned his back on a week ago!” It was a step too far. Jen felt the tears before she realised they were even coming. Lila saw the damage her ill judged words had wrought and went close to her friend. She held Jen and whispered softly into her ear.
“I’m sorry Jen. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Jen held in the tears as best she could. A few rolled down her face, smudging her mascara slightly, but it wasn’t the full waterworks of before. Lila wiped the tears away and lent Jen back slightly.
“But we really do have to get you out of here! This was meant to be your honeymoon, not a prison sentence. Let’s just go and try to have some fun.” Jen laughed through her tears and nodded. She dried her eyes and deftly altered the make up that had smeared across her cheeks before grabbing her Gucci bag and joining her friend at the door. She looked back at her apartment briefly before putting a confident look on her face.
“This is a new Jen stepping through this door,” she said. Lila laughed.
“Just as long as she’s as much fun as the old one!” They laughed together and walked out little knowing that it would be a very different Jen who would next return to her apartment.
‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages’ was an extraordinarily expensive beauty salon found near the King’s road in London. It had been founded by Christian Du Pont, the famed Parisian designer, who had an outlet for his unique creations next door. However, he didn’t like the idea that the women who crossed his threshold might dare be anything other than perfect, so he created the salon to make them so. Jen and Lila entered the shop and were greeted by a stunningly attractive Asian woman who was made up in a wonderful Chinese style dress.
“May I help you?” The voice reeked of class and education, just as the expression was somewhat withdrawn and resigned… like the woman didn’t understand what two girls like these could be doing in such a place. Lila was taken aback. Her Mancunian roots were pretty evident to anyone who spoke to her and she was seldom described as the most well bred of people. The prospect of the salon suddenly terrified her. Jen, on the other hand, was a born and bred west Londoner so knew the etiquette right down to pat.
“Lila Jones and Jennifer Taylor-Moore here for our ten o’clock appointment.” Her voice was as classy as a duchess’ while also managing to combine that class with both anger and arrogance. It always amazed Lila how such a nice person as Jen could just turn on such an arrogant bitch as Jennifer! However, in times, and shops, like this one it tended to get the results and five minutes later they were seated in luxurious leather chairs each having their hands expertly massaged by two other Asian women dressed like the hostess, though not quite as well.
“This is the life, eh Jen?” Lila looked at her friend who seemed to have sunken a good foot into her chair. Jen smiled.
“It certainly is.” She sat up slightly. “I tell you what, Lila, how’s about we try on some of the dresses next door afterwards?” Lila sat bolt upright.
“Jen, no! The cheapest one’s worth almost a month’s pay!” Jen leaned across.
“They don’t need to know we won’t buy them!” she whispered, “Besides, I’ve got a bit of money because of…” her voice choked slightly but she recovered, “Because of the holiday refund.” Lila looked at Jen and smiled softly.
“Ok, Jen, why not?” The women massaging their hands continued to their feet and then onto the women’s faces before finally announcing that their work was done. Both Jen and Lila felt refreshed, energised and beautiful. They looked at each other.
“You…!”
“You…!” They squealed in delight, like school girls trying make up for the first time. The two Asian masseurs smiled and bowed, preparing to take their leave. Jen and Lila thanked them excessively and tried to tip them but the other women held up their hands and wouldn’t accept a thing. Finally, just as the two of them were about to go, Lila nudged Jen with an encouraging look on her face.
“Err, excuse me?” asked Jen before realising that that was no way to get things done in a place like ‘Les Mains, Pieds et Visages.’ She started again in her most imperious voice.
“Could you please inform the manageress that Ms Jones and I would like to try on some of the dresses next door.” The two Asians bowed again and walked out. Lila looked at Jen in some trepidation but Jen simply smiled and indicated that the Mancunian should calm down, though she herself did not fell calm at all! The manageress strolled in, everything about her radiating Oriental exoticness subtly mixed with English aristocracy.
“May I help you?” she asked again. Jen, in a small voice, asked whether she and her friend could try on some of Du Pont’s dresses next door. The Asian woman looked at the two of them, as if reading their minds. ‘She’s not going to go for it! She’s not going to go for it!’ was all Lila could think. But contrary to her expectations the manageress, her face opening into a radiant smile, invited them next door. They followed her, each weak with relief at their success.
The clothes were beyond beautiful. Everything about them exuded class. They were classic, but original… revealing but reserved… soft yet firm… everything that attire were meant to be. Jen and Lila were in heaven. They’d been led to a changing room at the rear where they’d each taken off their own most expensive clothes. A single scarf from the shop they were in would’ve covered the cost of everything they had on. Once stripped down to their small things they were invited to put on a dressing robe and peruse the catalogue.
Lila emerged thanking God that she was wearing her best bra and panties, a matching set of black lace that supported and revealed, though weren’t sluttish, in equal measure. Her 36DD breasts were still nice and firm at the age of twenty six and there was scarcely a trace of cellulite anywhere on her trim body. She shaved regularly, especially around her pubic mound, and used many expensive moisturisers on her quite dark skin. It often surprised people to find out she was from Manchester. They always thought she had to have Mediterranean origins.
Jen, on the other hand, was very much a part of the English aristocracy. Like Lila she was twenty six but that was where most of the similarities ended. She’d been educated at boarding school where she’d learnt how to be as tough as nails mentally, while discovering how to the most of unflattering school uniforms and bans on make up. She was only a little taller than Lila, five nine to the latter’s five seven, but seemed much higher due to her very slim figure and achingly long legs.
Her skin was white and pure as driven snow, her straight blonde hair creeping down beyond her shoulders. Her breasts were smaller than Lila’s, at a 34C, but sat high and proud on her chest. There was nothing too her, really, which always annoyed Lila. Jen ate like a horse yet didn’t put on a pound. Lila believed she merely had to look at food to feel her ass sag and hips grow. In short, both women were very attractive. They were about to accentuate that natural beauty with Du Pont’s clothes.
Dress after dress arrived, was tried on and was examined, in the mirror, minutely. The manageress produced a digital camera and took pictures of the two of them from dozens of angles so that they could see how they looked naturally, as a pose to straining their necks to look in the various mirrors of the room. Eventually, after three hours since entering the shop, Lila and Jen picked what they each liked the most and Jen paid for them. Each had an evening dress that, Mai Ling promised, would never be replicated by Du Pont again, as well as some skirts, tops and trousers. Mai Ling also threw in some exquisite lingerie for both of them free of charge… after all, Jen had just paid her a five figure sum!
Just as they were leaving for lunch, still on the high of having had so much fun without the bitter reality of just how much they’d spent crashing down, Mai Ling asked to see Jen for a moment. The two girls looked at each other in horror. What had gone wrong? Had the card not worked? Had the bank called? Had it all been an obscure trick? Were they actually dreaming? Jen asked Lila to wait near the front with their bags while she went to the back to talk to the manageress. She returned five minutes later.
“What was wrong?” asked Lila eagerly, desperately curious but terrified of what the answer might be.
“Nothing,” replied Jen with a frown, “She just wanted to give me this card.” She showed it to Lila. It was a business card for a doctor, a general practitioner who worked nearby called Dr. Tress. She specialised in women’s problems, so the card stated.
“What does she mean women’s problems?” asked Lila indignantly, once they’d left the shop.
“I asked that too,” replied Jen thoughtfully. “I thought she must’ve thought I was ill or something but she simply said that she knew what I’d been through over the last week and that this doctor could help me through it… that she’d been through something similar and would’ve probably killed herself without Dr. Tress’ help…” Lila looked at her friend with a worried look.
“You’re not… err… planning on anything like that are you, Jen?” Jen looked at her, confused for a moment. She realised what Lila was suggesting.
“Oh no, no,” she replied hastily, before continuing in the same thoughtful voice of before, “It’s just she said that, after Dr. Tress helped her, she never felt hurt by a man again.” She turned the card over and over in her hand.
“How did she know about you and… err… Toby?” asked Lila.
“She must’ve heard us talk about it, or maybe the people doing our hands did,” responded Jen, “She said that she’d actually been married for a month when her husband left her for her sister!”
“How awful!”
“Exactly… at least I didn’t get hitched to the silly bastard...” Jen looked down at the card, her whole face puckering as the tears, which were never far away, threatened to engulf her. Lila quickly broke her out of her reverie.
“Well, let’s get lunch, I’m starving!” Jen laughed with her friend and they went to get some food. Lila had to go home after lunch but Jen assured her that not only was she alright but Lila didn’t have to worry about the clothes either.
“You’ve done more to get me back on my feet than any amount of consoling or crying could do. Thank you.” She leant forwards and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Lila let herself melt into the intimate gesture and held Jen close before finally breaking off and turning away. She walked off and looked at her friend for a moment, imagining all the ways she’d like to comfort her… but she didn’t. Instead she took the tube home and it was only when she arrived that she realised that she’d left Jen to pay for lunch too!
Jen, for her part, still felt the deep hole in her soul created by her fiancée Toby, who simply hadn’t turned up for their wedding… along with his ex-girlfriend who’d appeared three days before. Jen couldn’t bring herself to hate him but his treachery was too huge a wound and if felt like it would never heal. She turned over the card Mai Ling had given her and remembered the look in the Asian beauty’s face: she’d been close to suicide but Dr. Tress had helped her through… it was only five minutes walk away… Jen decided she’d go after a second cup of coffee.
TO BE CONTINUED…
