Charles was showing Alistair his phone.
A photograph of Monica dressed in red, more than a little cleavage on display.
Her red glossy lipstick in contrast with her lightly tanned skin and jet black hair.
“Niiiiccce” .. Alistair hissed a rather lame description of this particularly attractive vibrant woman as he sipped on his beer.
“Nice? You are wrong there my friend, She is fucking gorgeous .. I just wouldn’t get fed up fucking the brains out of that.”
Don’t you hate how some men refer to women as “that”?
The objectification of women .. you’ve read the blurb from all the usual suppliers, Women’s Lib, Anti-Porn Campaigners.
Here’s the thing that they miss.
People are basically animals, we’ve evolved from basic cells through primitive creatures, via mammals to the highly developed top of the food chain planet killing creatures that we are today.
But buried deep down somewhere in our limbic system, our hippocampus, we still have the sexual urges that drive every other animal on the planet.
Eat .. sleep .. make babies .. repeat.
Some people call it human nature .. pure and simple human nature.
But it’s not, its much more basic than that,
It’s animalistic, fundamental, it’s part of what we are, whether you or I care to admit or not.
Yes, I hear you say, but we have intelligence, feelings, we know the difference between right and wrong?
That’s all true and any guy who wants laid tonight isn’t about to disrespect his woman, thats more conducive to a kick in the nuts than a night of romance, passion and lust.
Our animal behaviour will never change because even although most men have respect for women in general, that they don’t think in those terms, there’s always going to be a faction were left to their own devices with other like-minded individuals, men are basically savages.
“Yes you fucking would, you’d fuck her every day for a week then you’d get bored.”
“Bollocks .. I’d fuck her every day for a month and *then* I’d get bored.”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Who are you talking about? Takes one to know one.”
And they both burst out laughing.
“Yeah, sometimes, even if you’ve got steak in the house, you just want a bit of sausage!”
“Too fucking right my man .. I’m up for that.”
“Just a pity that I don’t have steak and stuck with that fat arsed bitch I’m married too.”
“Yes but not for long Charles, once this contract is in place it’s party time.”
Charles clinked glasses with Alistair, swallowed the last of his beer and called the waitress for two more.
If only Charles knew that the young couple sitting chatting quietly in the booth behind him were recording every word of his conversation.
My young daughter is 18 this week, tomorrow we are out for dinner in town, she’ll be dressed up in her finery.
How do I know that?
Cos she’s started trying on stuff already!! 🙂
If anyone for one second referred to her as “that” ..
It wouldn’t end well.
Loved this at Party At The Palace last weekend, my favourite Chic song, down the front dancing and waving to the lovely Kimberley Davies.