How to Treat a Lady

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“Punch it!” Nayana shouted at the helmeted driver as she tightened her fingers around the handgrip of the machinegun. The scraped-up jeep bounced across the rubble when the driver gunned the engine. Nayana turned her attention to the inhuman horde in their wake.

Pulling the trigger, she let bursts of hot lead dance across the half decayed undead, but no matter how many she felled more surged in to take their place. Suddenly there was a massive jolt, and she screamed as the jeep tumbled into a great ditch to land on the rollbars.

Shaking her head to clear her vision, Nayana reached out to pull her self from the wreckage only to find that her legs were entangled in something. She kicked to free herself, but to no avail.

Then the first zombie peeked over the rim of the ditch, and moaned loudly with hunger. Nayana’s stomach flipped over. Frantically she pulled out her sidearm and shot off a couple of rounds at the ghoul, blowing its head off more by luck than skill. Gore splattered the surrounding wreckage and the once walking corpse tumbled back, its limbs twitching.

Dozens of ragged, rotting throats echoed the hungry groan, and within moments the limping footfall of the undead was heard. Nayana redoubled her efforts to free her legs from whatever was holding them, fighting down a wave of panic.

Something held her legs very firmly, and she kicked to free them. Reaching down, she pulled at the debris that covered her, very clearly aware of the approaching ghouls. Suddenly the restriction around her legs tightened. Nayana felt something squirm against her, and she looked down to see a pair of rotting hands reaching out from the rubble to paw mindlessly across her thighs. She screamed…

…and sat up in her bed, choking back a cry of fear and soaked with sweat.

Almost immediately a wave of headache and nausea washed over her, and she flopped back down on her back with a groan.

‘Oh god, I’ll never play Resident Evil ever again… at least not while I’m drunk’, she thought to herself, trying to force her thoughts through the haze of agony in her head. ‘And why didn’t I at least drink some water before falling asleep? Oh right, because I was drunk. Figures.’

Only now did she realise that her legs were entangled in her dingy, sweat-soaked sheets. Muttering, she extricated herself from the mess and staggered towards the bathroom. As she passed the kitchen a shaft of sunlight penetrated the dirty windows and struck her squarely in the face, making her groan with pain when the harsh light grated on her eyes.

She finished her business in the bathroom without throwing up, and on the way back to her bed she braved the kitchen to fill an empty soda bottle with water, fumbling blindly at the window until she got the blinds down. Somewhere she managed to find some painkillers, and washed them down with some of the water before collapsing back onto her bed again.

Sipping her water while slowly regaining a semblance of higher brain function, Nayana began taking stock of her situation and penetrating the haze that separated her from the previous night.

She was lying on her bed feeling clammy and dirty, wearing only a pair of black satin panties and a single black stay-up. The other one was hopefully on her floor somewhere. From her visit to the bathroom she vaguely recalled a mirror image of her once artfully styled hair, now looking like a haystack that had been in a plane crash. Nayana sighed.

She scooted up a bit, gathering her pillows until she could half-sit in the bed. She swigged from her water bottle, spilling a few drops down her chin, and she lazily watched them trickle down her chest. One of them ended up hanging from her nipple, and she watched the dark brown flesh harden from the cold water before she wiped her hand across her chest, smearing the water streaks.

Slowly the fog lifted, and she started to remember the previous evening. There was a party at wassisname, Charles’ place. Eloise had been a complete twat as usual, making snide comments about everyone. Nayana hated when she did that, but never dared say anything for fear of getting a dose of Eloise’s barbed tongue herself.

Some guy had actually answered back with a barb of his own, and Nayana chuckled when she remembered how nettled the other woman had been by this. She’d gone on about it at some length, actually. Nayana figured it was because she wasn’t used to people who gave as good as they got.

She drank some more water, and then pulled off her stay-up stocking since it was beginning to itch. She tossed it on the floor and fell back onto her pillows. She was feeling clammy all over, but didn’t quite have the energy for a shower just yet. Her stomach growled, but the very thought of food made her queasy despite her hunger.

Nayana rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, hoping that the headache would go away. That guy from the party, he’d turned up again, hadn’t he? Right, he’d been at the club. Eloise had been livid. She’d bareback studios porno gotten into her head, helped on by a few White Russians, to go “set him straight”, and none of the girls could talk her out of it. When she finally stalked off to find him, Nayana and another girl, Nathalie, had followed behind to try to avert any major disasters. They were all quite drunk by that time.

She didn’t quite recall how it had gone, but she did remember that the guy had more or less stomped Eloise’s attempted vindication flat, while managing to flirt with Nayana and even win Nathalie over. She chuckled at this, even as she dreaded what Eloise might say the next time they met. Now, the guy…

His name was… Steve, or something? He’d been really hot. Or at least that’s how Nayana remembered him through the fine mist of José Cuervo that clouded her memory. He’d been wearing black trousers with lots of buckles and zippers, and a black sleeveless top with some sort of dark red print. He’d had his hair dyed blue-black and cropped short aside from a fringe that fell across one eye. In a brief flash Nayana remembered wanting to run her hands across the stubbly back of his head, but not daring to. She smiled and wet her lips with her tongue.

They had been sitting in the lounge, and… he had held her hand. How did that happen? She had even had her legs on his lap. Had they kissed? No… she touched her lips with her fingers. No, they hadn’t kissed, even though she had wanted to. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have woken up in her own bed with a hangover. Nayana sighed and swigged some more water.

Thinking back, Nayana made herself remember the feeling of his hands on her legs, how warm they had been and how he had massaged her calves absentmindedly with gentle fingers. She imagined the hands sliding higher, caressing the back of her knees. Higher still, sliding up the inside of her thighs… She squirmed as a bit of arousal crept through her skin to land softly between her legs. Closing her eyes, she raised a hand to stroke one of her slowly hardening nipples.

Sipping more water, she used her free hand to caress both breasts while rubbing her thighs together, causing a sweet pressure on certain tender parts. She bit her lip, imagining how it would feel to kiss “Steve”, to have his hands all over her body. Fumbling slightly, she put the bottle of water on the nightstand and then started massaging her breasts with both hands.

Nayana was a curvy young woman, not overweight in any way but endowed with somewhat generous forms. She couldn’t cover her breasts with her hands, but she enjoyed playing with them even more for it. At this point she was rubbing them firmly and tweaking her nipples while imagining that her hands belonged to someone else.

The headache wasn’t quite gone, but her arousal helped her ignore it. One hand slipped down her soft abdomen, and she spread her legs to let it land on her pubic mound. She started rubbing herself on the outside of her panties, pretending that it was “Steve” giving her pleasure. A soft ‘Mmm’ escaped her lips.

She kept frigging herself, and soon the other hand joined the first. She imagined how “Steve” crushed her into the mattress with his body, grinding his pelvis into hers. In her mind he then kissed his way down her chest and her stomach, working his way to her sweetly burning fold. Moaning quietly, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties to slip them off…

…when Dahler Mendhi started singing “Tunak Tunak Tun” from somewhere on the floor, telling her that her mother was phoning. Quickly losing her mood, Nayana cursed loudly and rolled over to get the phone.

“Hello, mum? Yeah… no, I was just going to get some bre… uh, lunch. Yeah, I’m… doing laundry, yeah.” She rubbed her face dejectedly, realising too late that she had forgotten to remove her makeup from last night and that it was now smeared all over her face and fingers. Listening to her mother nattering about her younger sister Sayali’s upcoming wedding, she dragged herself out into the kitchen to finally get something to eat.

Later, after finally having been released from her mother’s litany of petty woes, and after managing to keep down her breakfast, Nayana sat nursing her tea when a bright voice trilled from her phone:

“You’ve got spam!”

This was the signal that she’d received an email, and she wondered absentmindedly who it might be. Then she remembered who she had last given her gmail address to, and her heart started hammering. She quickly groped for the phone.

– – – – – – –

Miss Nayana.

As you may recall, we met yesterday at the Belltower.

I would like to ask you to grant me the pleasure of having you for tea tomorrow afternoon (sunday).

Sincerely,

/Stephen

– – – – – – –

Nayana blinked at the brief message. Tea? Tomorrow? At first she panicked and almost erased the mail, but caught herself in time. This was the czech amatör porno guy she’d been fantasising about this morning. And he wanted to meet her? Thoughts raced through her head. Finally she replied:

– – – – – – –

Hello Stephen

I’d love to come for tea tomorrow. When did you have in mind? And yes, I remember you 🙂

/Nayana

– – – – – – – –

Not five minutes later came Stephen’s response:

– – – – – – –

Excellent. I’ll see you at 3 o’clock outside the Hanging Gardens Tea House. Wear a simple black dress, or blouse and skirt.

Yours,

/Stephen

– – – – – – – –

She sat frozen for a minute, and then jerked into motion. Now she really had to do her laundry, but first she urgently needed to introduce herself to the shower nozzle.

* * * * * * *

Nayana sat on the Underground train, nervously clutching her purse. It was made from glossy black PVC, matching her shoes. She was wearing a black knee-length straight skirt and a matching jacket, with a Chinese style blouse in black satin embroidered with red flowers. She also wore a pair of black stay-ups with a curling Paisley pattern, and crowned her efforts with matching Ankh pendant and ear studs. She had swept her hair back in a tight ponytail and applied the barest hint of makeup. A bit of rouge and matching red eyeshadow to bring out her rich, dusky skin, but she had opted for a matte brown lipstick that simply enhanced her natural lip colouration. She checked her reflection for the hundredth time just as the train rolled in to her stop.

The night before, while she had been angsting about what to wear and conducting several wardrobe raids, she had googled the Hanging Garden Tea House to find out where it was, and found that it was a posh place. Really posh. Founded in the late 19:th century, it was one of the oldest tea houses in the country that was still active. It was actually an annex to a botanical garden designed in Art Nouveau style, making it look like something the elves in Lord of the Rings would have built, had they lived in the 1890:s.

Nayana’s heels click-clacked on the smudged tiles of the Underground station as she emerged from the bowels of the city a few minutes ahead of time. She stepped out from the station onto a fairly quiet street, dotted with the occasional tree and lined with beautiful old buildings. The whole area was a blatant contrast to the tower block area where she herself lived. No grimy concrete or burned-out cars anywhere, for starters.

There were clouds in the sky but sunlight filtered down through the foliage of the trees, giving the street a soft, greenish cast. The air was comfortably tempered, and only the slightest breeze stirred the leaves. Nayana found a sign showing the direction of the botanical garden, and started walking.

Stephen was waiting for her under a tree outside the entrance to the tea house, standing relaxed with one hand in his pocket. When he saw her approach, he smiled and waved to her. Nayana waved back, hoping that her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt. He was wearing a plain black three-piece suit, red shirt and a black tie. A silver watch chain adorned his waistcoat, and his Dr Marten’s three-hole shoes looked recently polished.

“My goodness, you look absolutely ravishing,” he greeted her and leaned in for a light hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Oh, how could I refuse?” she said as she returned the hug. “And you don’t look too bad yourself.” He smiled at this, amused.

“Thank you, I try. Shall we go in?”

They entered through the abundantly ornamented portal, which looked like it had been grown rather than built. As they made their way inside, it was all Nayana could do not to gape at their surroundings. Everything was true to style, with mosaic on the floor and walls, and even the support columns sprouted softly curving vines of metal. Stephen noticed her reaction and said:

“It’s all right to stare, you know. First time I came here, it took me half an hour to pick my jaw off the floor. I’ve been a regular visitor ever since.” Nayana could only nod in response.

“Welcome back, sir,” the woman in traditional waitress uniform behind the counter greeted as they approached. “What’ll it be today?”

“Thank you, Maddy,” Stephen replied. “We’ll have afternoon tea for two, my usual table.”

He gently placed his hand on the small of Nayana’s back and led her through a door and over to a secluded table by the back entrance to the actual garden. Through the glass panes she could see the lush vegetation in the garden, which was in fact an enormous greenhouse. Hidden speakers played some sort of mellow classical music on a low volume, creating a fitting backdrop for the decor.

Stephen’s gentle touch on her back sent a jolt through Nayana, but she kept a straight face. When he took her jacket and pulled out the chair for her before seating himself, she began to realise that he was playing czech bitch porno a game with her. But what sort of game? She sat down neatly and admired the opulent surroundings while he hung the jacket on a coat rack. When he sat down she thought she could detect an amused glint in his eyes.

They chatted politely and noncommittally about the weather until the waitress arrived, bearing an enormous tray. It was laden with a silver tea pot, beautiful blue- on- white porcelain cups and saucers and an abundance of food. Nayana tried not to goggle at the pots of jam and clotted cream, the large plate of neatly cut sandwiches and the towel-covered basket from which came a delicious smell of warm scones. She felt her mouth start to water immediately.

When the waitress had left them, Stephen poured the tea. Nayana watched his hands as he handled the tea pot and cutlery, and remembered how she had imagined them touching her. They seemed strong but gentle, and she wondered to herself how it would feel to have them unbutton her blouse, pull her skirt above her waist…

“Nayana?”

“Um, what?”

“One or two lumps?” Stephen held up the sugar bowl and tongs.

“Oh! Um, two. Two lumps. Please.” She blushed slightly and busied herself with the sandwiches, but didn’t miss his amused glance. It was almost as if he’d known what she was thinking.

They carried on with their meal and the conversation, and soon she started feeling a bit less awkward. Stephen was the image of the perfect gentleman, always polite and never asking an impertinent question. Nayana enjoyed acting the counterpart to this, making a game out of the fine manners. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, noting his fingers as he put his tea spoon down or his lips as he sipped his tea. His movements were precise, calculated and neat, and she mirrored him carefully.

When she noticed that he was also watching her, she stifled a devious smile. As they went on talking about the financial situation or the cutbacks in the public sector, she started teasing him subtly by licking her tea spoon before putting it down, or by “accidentally” getting a bit of clotted cream on her finger when smearing it on her scone. When she put the finger in her mouth to lick the thick white cream off, she caught him looking at it with slightly parted lips, and she couldn’t help but smile.

When neither of them could eat any more they stayed at the table for a bit to talk about music they liked, but Nayana soon announced that she needed to go “reapply her lipstick”. Stephen immediately got up and took her chair, and she walked off towards the restrooms.

She quickly finished her business and reapplied the lipstick. ‘Where is this going?’ she thought as she looked herself over in the mirror. ‘Has he been flirting with me this whole time, or am I imagining it?’

When she returned to the table she found that the remains of their meal had been cleared away, and Stephen was waiting to help her put on her jacket.

“I thought we’d walk a bit,” he said. “The garden is open for another hour or so, and you really mustn’t leave here without seeing it.” He came up behind her and softly slid the jacket over her arms, to then smooth the fabric down with his hands. Nayana felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, and had to fight the impulse to lean into him. For a brief moment he let his hands remain on her waist, his lips mere inches from her ear.

“Shall we, then?” He deliberately broke the moment, reaching past her to pick up her purse. She didn’t trust herself to speak at that moment, but simply nodded mutely and linked her arm with his when he offered it. They walked out from the tea house…

…and into a jungle. There were plants everywhere, and the air was heavy with the scent of green foliage and clean earth. From somewhere came the sound of a babbling brook, softly underlined by the same music that was heard in the tea house. The only thing missing was the sound of birds. The greenhouse made the air warm and humid, but not unpleasantly so.

As she looked around, Nayana realised that the plants weren’t randomly placed. There were brass plaques naming the various plants, and they had clearly been planted not only to look nice but according to some botanical system she was unfamiliar with.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“It is indeed. We really should come here again for one of their tours, the guides explain what the plants are in a way that’s a lot more exciting than I ever could.” He smiled at her expression of wonder.

They stopped at a wrought iron railing to watch the gold carps swimming in the water below. Stephen leaned one arm on the railing, the other hand at Nayana’s waist. She moved a little closer, nearly touching her hip to his.

“I was wondering,” she said, “what it is you do? I haven’t figured it out. You don’t seem like the office type, but… I dunno.” She glanced up at him. He chuckled.

“Well, office type or not, I do work in one most of the time. I’m an illustrator and visual consultant at Charles’ company. Though I must say I like the ‘illustrator’ part better than the ‘consultant’ part. What about you?”

“Oh,” Nayana said, feeling suddenly more out of her league than before. “I’m just a supermarket clerk. I’m nobody, really.”

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