Soho, Saturday, one toilet cubicle with a lock that actually worked. We still managed. I lost an earring and gained a story. The attendant definitely knew. I tipped her anyway.
Tag: sex
Walk Of Pride In Daylight
No jacket. His socks. Sunglasses I found in the Uber. A woman with a pram looked at me like I’d invented sin. Morning.
Toilet Stall At The Standard
Queue outside, his hand over my mouth, my back against the cistern. Lipstick everywhere. Walked out like nothing happened and ordered another dirty martini.
He Brought A Toothbrush
That’s when I knew he’d decided this was more than afters. I hadn’t. I let him stay anyway because the lighting in my room is flattering at 8am and I’m weak.
Lipstick On A Hotel Glass
Not my shade. Not my booking. I still took the photo because the lighting was filthy in the best way.
We Did It Before Last Orders
Pub toilet. Lock that didn’t work. Someone knocked twice. I said “occupied” like I was booking a meeting room.
The Neighbours Heard Everything Again
Thin walls. Thick voice. I’d apologise if I was sorry. I’m not. They play drum and bass at noon on Sundays, so I consider us even, actually.
Flat Chat Named The Regular
They’ve given him a nickname. I won’t repeat it. It’s accurate. He still thinks he’s mysterious.
The Cloakroom Was Not Empty
Thought we’d been clever. We hadn’t. Some girl from Putney was already in there crying into a coat. I still finished the story. She can write her own.
Anal In The Back Of Uber
Rain on the windows, driver pretending not to notice. I was already wet from the club. He asked, I said yes. We didn’t even make it to his door.