Get Pointy

Well, anyone who's read the comments section of by blog entry yesterday knows that I really don't know what this entry will be about - which is strange for me because usually I have a pretty good idea what I'm going to write about the day before. I pick a title that reminds me of something, and then viola! I write. But today, get pointy, this could be anything!?? This could be about sex - if I have to explain why then you probably shouldn't know why. This could be about my novel, The Point - that sounds like a good fit. This could be about being protective of one ’s self. This could be about being an assailant. I mean really, where am I going with this?  will freely admit that some of my posts this week have not been as fluid and comprehensive as my posts usually are, but today I am completely stumped! I promise to continue this post, but before I do. . .

What Does Get Pointy Mean To You???

Well, I understand from comments and emails that 90% of you think that my novel is too graphic and refuse to read it past the first excerpt despite that fact that the second excerpt was super tame, I will post an excerpt from chapter 3 today because my friend Rosaria is curious. Please forgive me the rest of you - this excerpt will be harmless as well, but I'm sure you don't want to be reminded of the first :)

The Point - Chapter 3 Excerpt

The day snuck by her as she thought of her past. She even began to think of those before Dan.

      Smith was a man she'd met at a fundraiser at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. "Hello."

     "Hello." Adrienne looked at the stranger tentatively.

     "Do you like what you see?" He pointed his nearly empty Champaign flute towards the pop art in front of them and drew his last sip from the glass.

     "I'm not a huge fan of pop art, but I can appreciate most forms of human expression - of the release of that spark that yearns to get out into the world, that spark that demands to exist." She spoke to the graphic art piece and occasionally glanced at her new companion who was now holding out his right hand.

     "I'm Smith, and I am very pleased to meet you." He was a well-manicured man with a stiff stance and firm handshake.

     "Adrienne." She gave him her standard courtesy smile.

     "Would you mind if I accompanied you for the remainder of this evening - that is, if you haven't come accompanied by someone in particular." He had a wide grin and twinkle in his eye.

     "I'm sure that I would enjoy your company, and indeed I welcome it, but I don't plan on staying much longer." Adrienne picked up a glass of Champaign from a waiter passing, as he deposited his empty glass on the very same tray.

     "Could that be the reason why I haven't noticed you at these events? Do you often leave early or do you choose to avoid them entirely?" He offered his arm for her to hold onto, as though she no longer had the strength to stand without his support. She took it instinctively.

     "I often leave early, but had I known I'd meet you, perhaps I would have stayed until the absolute end of every fundraiser." They strolled arm in arm to the next display.

     "An avid art lover, yet not an avid socialite?" They gazed at the painting before them.

     "True, but please do not mistake my brief appearances as a sign of anti-socialism. I merely often have strains on my time." She sipped her Champaign purposefully.

     "I suspected someone such as yourself would, may I become another strain on your time?"

     "I hope not a strain, but a welcomed distraction." Her smile went from merely cordial to irresistibly seductive.

     Smith reached into his upper-inner jacket pocket and produced a business card, "My card."

Smith Copperland, Architect PC

Copperland Krandell Associates, LLP

15 West 12th street

New York, NY 10013

     She pressed a small gold case she'd been carrying in the palm of her hand. As it opened she held it in front of him so that he may take a card - being that her other hand was otherwise occupied with her campaign.

     "Well, Miss Adrienne Tell, it has been my good fortune to meet you." He placed her card in his lower-inner jacket pocket.

     "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this year's Children's Art Gala. Your generous donations have funded arts programs in 20 inner city schools in the New York City area. Thank you again, and please feel free to take a listing of the funded schools on your way out."

     "We're being shown the door. Will you accompany me to a place where we may have a cocktail and get to know each other a little better?"

     "I will, but I haven't much time."

     Smith and Adrienne walked down to a small trendy bar and ordered Manhattans.

     "Have you ever painted?" He leaned towards her and waited with baited breath for her answer.

     "I have. I love to paint, write, and just generally express myself. I wouldn't call myself an artist though. Do you paint?" She leaned forward and touched his knee as she asked.

     "I sketch more than paint - I love sketching, it's the number one reason why I became an architect."

     "What about your family? Are they so inclined as well?" She took a sip of her Manhattan.

     "My parents were doctors and my brother is a professor at Yale. I'm the only one who can draw a straight line in my family." A small controlled laugh left his lips.

     "Well, this has been nice - but I really have to go now." Adrienne stood and readied herself to leave.

     "Let me hail a cab for you." They left the bar together and walked to the curb. As a cab pulled over he held her shoulders and kissed her deeply, "Good night."

     "Good night sir." She hopped in the cab and was gone. She liked this new man. He was a bit pompous, but she could be pompous as well - and that kiss! It was spectacular. It reminded her of something out of a movie.

     As she passed the doorman she nodded a goodnight and headed up to the 8th floor. She opened the door, left her keys on a small hook by it, and went up to her bedroom. She wondered what this new man would mean to her, who he would be in her life. As she lay her head on her pillow and closed her eyes she thought of all the future might hold for her.

     "Mr. Smith Copperland is on the line for you."

     Adrienne looked up from the presentation she was preparing, "Who?"

     ""Mr. Smith Copperland? He said you were expecting his call since last week?" Patricia shifted uncomfortably in her black matronly suit.

     "Okay. Thank you Patricia." Adrienne picked up the phone, "Smith?"

     "Good afternoon Ms. Tell. I've been thinking about you and decided that today would be a good day to call you."

     "Why is that?" Adrienne tapped her pen on her desk.

     "I would love to see you tonight - Le Cirque?" He let a moment of silence pass between them. "Around 7?"

     Adrienne considered how far along she'd come with her IBD presentation to Equity and thought about how long it had been since she had dinner at Le Cirque, "7 At Le Cirque, I'll be there."

     "I'm looking forward to it."

     Adrienne closed her laptop and packed it into her briefcase, "Patricia, I'm working from home for the rest of the day.", and with that, Adrienne was on her way to Park Avenue.

     As she setup her laptop, her cell phone rung, "I just emailed you and Patricia some slides I want you to include in the IBD presentation. We should meet tomorrow to go over the entire slide deck." Groeller sounded as though he were out of breath.

     "Done. Are you running to catch your flight back to New York?" She pictured him dashing through the terminal and jumping luggage like hurdles in an Olympic dash.

     "How'd you know? I should be in at about 10 tonight. Have Patricia send me a meeting invite and cc Rose on it - I'm free most of the day." In the background the sound of an angry mother threatening Groeller was dismissed by him.

     "Okay - have a good flight." She ended the call and speed dialed her assistant Patricia, "Patricia, send out a meeting invitation to Groeller and cc Rose for tomorrow to review the IBD presentation to Equity. He said he's free for most of the day. Did you get the slides he sent you?"

     "Yes, I've already imported them into the main document and I was just about to send it to you."

     "Okay, well I’ll let you know if I have any changes before 6. Have a file made and print 2 copies after I give you the final version - and let's try to have the meeting in the morning. Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow."

     She opened her email and reviewed the updated slide deck that Patricia sent her. She sought out the added slides, "This is a fucking mess. . ." As she looked at the slides she grew more exasperated and tried to figure out a way to edit the slides without incurring the wrath of her boss. The additional slides opened a whole can of worms that she did not want to deal with, nor did they have the time to address in their 30 minute overview of IBD and its link to Equity.

     She tinkered with the slides a bit and emailed them to Groeller and Patricia. After checking her email once more, she started to get ready for her date.

     She decided to wear a cute little red strapless dress with red patent leather sling backs. She walked into the shower and turned on the water, it instantly adjusted to her preferred temperature. She showered with a cucumber gel and made sure to loofah. At her legs she took a fresh razor and shaved. She made her way up to the patch at her crotch and trimmed it a little. Lastly, she shaved under her arms. She scrubbed her face, shoulders, hands, and bottom with a coarse apricot exfoliate, rinsed and turned the shower off.

     After she dried off, she scrubbed her face again with a fine exfoliate, rinsed and applied a lavender mask and left it to dry. She covered herself in almond body butter and plucked her eyebrows as it absorbed into her skin. She rubbed the remainder of the unabsorbed body butter into her skin and peeled the facial mask.

     Next, she sprayed a light perfume all over and in her hair, which she pinned up. She applied a bit of foundation, smoky black eye shadow, black eyeliner, matching mascara and a silky wine colored lipstick.

     She found a new pair of silky black stockings, put them on and clipped them to a black lacy garter belt after putting on the matching panties. She decided to wear a black lace-up corset with boning, the trim peeked out from above the dress she slipped on. She slid on her shoes and grabbed a small black purse from her walk-in closet.

     By the time she finished, it was 6:30 and she took her tailored black Spring jacket with her as she stepped out the door.

     The doorman hailed her a cab, she knew she would be late - the traffic was thick, even for a Thursday night. It took her 30 minutes to arrive at her destination.

     "Adrienne."

He stared as Adrienne walked up to him in the restaurants’ entryway. She was stunning. Smith came to her side full of pride and a bit of arrogance, kissed her on the cheek and held her hand.

     "Smith." Adrienne smiled and was glad to see he appreciated the time she took to look beautiful for him. He helped her with her coat and checked it. She attracted stares and private secret glances from all those in her line of view.

     "Please, follow me this way." The matre'de walked them over to an ideally placed table - one that was for seeing and being seen. "Please, enjoy your dinner." The matre'de deposited the menus and left the table, but not before giving Adrienne one final slightly longing look.

     "You look gorgeous, but of course, you know that. Let me tell you something you may not know - I fought hard to wait 7 days to call you. I can't begin to count the number of times I dialed your number until it came to the last digit and hung up. . . so, needless to say, I am very excited to see you. Are you as excited to see me?"

     "More." She often kept her lies simple single word answers.

     "Well, that puts me more at ease. Do you need to see the menu?"

     "No, I know exactly what I want."

     "As do I." The inflection in Smith's voice implied a deeper meaning.

     The sommelier walked over to their table, “May I start you off with a glass of wine?"

     "Yes, please. I will have a glass of Merlot, which would you suggest?" Not once did the stranger's eyes leave Adrienne as he voiced his opinion.

     "I'll have the same." Smith winked at her and gave her his most charming smile. "You attracted quite a fan club."

     "Really?" She gave a little nonchalant shrug.

     "It's a good thing I have you all to myself tonight."

     "That you do."

     The waiter approached the table, but did not interrupt until there was a break in their conversation, "Are you ready to order?"

     "Yes, please. I'll have the duck."

     "And I'll have the fillet mignon rare please - and may we have more wine." Smith handed the menus over to the waiter.

     "Yes. Thank you." The waiter backed away, rather than turn and walk away, to view Adrienne as long as possible.

     "I must remember to keep you safe and lock you away at night."

     "Pardon?"

      "Well, it seems as though it's that or continuously having to beat men off you with a stick - and you wouldn't want me going to prison, would you?"

     She smiled a genuine smile, "No, of course not!" What made her smile was the thought of this handsome rigid man bending over in a cramped cell for his new found roommate.

     "Well then, be ready to be my caged song bird. . .Tell me, is there anyone else?" His face turned downward for a brief moment and then he looked Adrienne directly in the eyes.

     "As of now, there's only you." She sipped a bit more wine and returned the glare. She knew the moment she met him that she would sleep with him, but now she knew it would be tonight.

     The food arrived and they ate, "Those tiny tentative bites you're taking are very sexy, but you don't have to eat that way for my pleasure."

     She laughed hard and almost choked on her duck, "As if I don't know that?" She smiled tenderly at him in hopes of softening the blow to his ego, but she definitely couldn't have let that one go.

     He returned the smile, "You are going to be a handful."

     "Once again, you are correct." The rest of the dinner was full of flirtatious overtures and light laughter. They were the light of the room and the other patrons were moths drawn to a flame, unable to avert their eyes from the blinding light.

     After the bill was paid they decided to go back to his loft to look over building plans he was currently working on. When they arrived at 12th street they passed the lower entrance clearly marked as his office and walked up the brownstone steps to his private home entrance.

     The modern sleek style complimented Smith and she examined every piece of furniture with a discerning eye to learn more about him then she knew he would ever reveal. A 50's low back white vinyl sectional was paired with a 60's wood laminate free form coffee table. The lamps, clearly made this year but inspired by 70's futuristic musings, were white plastic and spherical with undulating waves deeply carved into the shade creating a beautiful 3 dimensional piece of art. All surfaces were dust free and a 42 inch plasma television hung like a precious painting over a fireplace stocked with candles of varying heights and thicknesses.

     In the background, she heard soft classical music playing. He was good.

     "I'll be right back." He rushed to the kitchen and came back to the living room with a small rolling butler's cart holding 2 glasses, a bottle of Port and matches. He lit the candles in the fireplace and rolled beside her, "Please, have a seat." He poured her a very full glass and himself no more than a mouthful.

     They sat on the sectional facing each other with the small cart off to the side by Smith.

     "So. . . . where are the plans?" Adrienne took a drink and held the glass in her lap.

     "It's more of a conceptual plan then an actual drawn out one. It's for a condo on the upper west side. .." He swallowed all of the contents in his glass. Before she could get in her questions about what she'd truly come to see, he began again, "I see two feet of exposed distressed brick wall with random raised sections as you enter." He leaned towards Adrienne and moved in closer, "It's downlit. Then, White glossy acrylic overlay in 5 foot panels running throughout the common living space - except at the rear wall - the focus. I see black wood grained overlay in one solid section with 1 foot squares of the white acrylic overlay used as shelves and backing for the shelves."

     "What do you mean? . . .about the shelves?" She gulped a good deal of the wine in her glass and watched as he came closer.

     He took one of her hands in his, "Well, I would take two 1 foot pieces of acrylic, form an L, and secure one of the sides parallel to the wall leaving a shelf and its backing." He waited for her to drink the last of her wine and after she finished swallowing he removed the wine glass from her hand and put it on the floor behind him.

     "That sounds beautiful."

     "I think you're beautiful." He leaned in and kissed her deeply, softly pressing his lips against hers and then making his way into her mouth with his tongue. His hands were stroking her shoulders and ran down to her thighs.

     They kissed without stopping for what seemed like an eternity to her. Then his arms wrapped around her waist and he forcefully pulled her so close to him that she found herself in his lap.

     Yet he still kissed her, with her neck craned back like that of a swan to face him. his hands made their way back up to find her breasts, but the corset she wore gave his hands no purchase, "Come with me."

     They climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly and with the gait of two tipsy lovers. His bedroom was the entire second floor and she saw the king-size bed off to the right near the back of the space. She walked toward the bed ahead of him, feeling his hands groping at the zipper to the back of her dress and next she felt the dress slipping down her body to the floor. She turned to face him in the dimly lit space, she wanted him to get a good view of what he intended to fuck. She stood there, in her black lace corset, matching garters, panties, and stockings leaning to one side in her red patent leather heels, "Well?" She waited a few seconds, then began to unhook the corset - watching him watch her as she worked her way down.

Tomorrow, After Life?. . . I definitely have a topic for tomorrow which has nothing to do with The Point - maybe I should have written about this today :D ) PS - I just realized I wrote the F word, sorry to all you sensitive types *blush*