Worlds Collide

Sharon Andrews strode her long slim legs confidently as she could down the central corridor. With her head held high as she wore her power dressed formal weekday attire of black jacket, white blouse and just below the knee black skirt. Her black lace slip swished against her stocking covered thighs as she moved. She made her way across the office from the lifts, wafts of her strong body spray leaving a trail behind her as she made her way between the waist high plain grey dividers that split the large bright and airy 4th floor office space out into several open plan pods that divided ‘her office’. Her pod was the last one on the far right, some could say it was the most important corner, she could see out over everyone, it was also the closest to the kitchen for the important coffee run, plus she and could hear all the gossip amongst as the managers and laugh when in the most sexist way possible called them all their clucking hens. It was also in the corner, wherever so occasionally she could escape on to the fire escape platform, and it must be said only very sporadically smoke at work if she really needed to.

It was eight fifty-eight and thirty seconds on Monday morning, she was almost always the last in, and as of eight fifty-six she had been still desperately cursing whilst hurriedly smoking one last cigarette on the ground floor. Before finally entering the building and getting in the lift. No one seemed to care, she slid in just in time, she always got everything anyone needed done as she was willing to stay on late. Especially on a Friday night. She was the best at what she did, and management knew it. Sharon carried her takeaway cup of double expresso shot in her right hand, and her black handbag in her left as she politely said morning to everyone grinning and raising her cup as a means of saying hello.

She quickly settled down in her black off chair as the large office clock clicked nine, hiding from everyone and sighed a relief as she kicked her black 2″ heeled shoes off under the desk, and stretched her neck hoping to remove the crick in her back, coughed, she then wiggled her black stocking covered, pink painted toes. With a groan she then opened her drawer and rummaged around the chocolate bars and pulled out her pack of paracetamol popped two tablets through the silver foil into the palm of her hand, shoved them in her mouth and then swallowed them down with the remains drips of her caffeine wincing in the process.

Her weekend headache still banging its drum inside her still tired skull. She dug into her purse, pushed her lighter, and cigarette pack further down as in out of sight, out of mind, and the found her lipstick and compact mirror, she flipped it open and focused on her tired face, she had scrubbed clean again this morning, but hadn’t time to put make up on, as she had, as usual, been running slightly late. Sharon pouted her lips and applied the glossy red lip covering. She did this believing that alone it would help her appearance and remove her headache and of course make her day go well. Then through her glasses briefly focused on her computer screen and the weekend emails.

“Ah Sharon!” Adam her manager interrupted her focus as his voice boomed out from his doorway and over the top of the clattering of keyboards “Great you’re finally in, sorry to bother you, could you help me with something, nothing major I promise?” he practically shouted down the length of the room.

She smiled at her name being called out whilst looking in the monitor, and lifted her head over the partition, and with a big grin smiled at him and nodded brightly in agreement. “I am on my way.” She croaked, and again coughed loudly, she hadn’t spoken to anyone since her brother yesterday afternoon. She sighed, carefully put her feet back in her shoes, pushed back her chair, and got up as to head down the way she had just come, she picked up some files before leaving.

***

The reason for her weekend hangover is that from six on Friday night to a certain group of mates she is the party animal known as Shazza. Shazza is the sole of the party, almost to her friends if there is no Shazza, there isn’t a party, and the night out without Shazza is very much a bad one. She makes the nights come alive.

At eight fifty-eight on Friday, Saturday and occasional if the mood takes her on Sunday nights too, Shazza is more likely to be found at the seedy almost basement pub at the far end of town called FWB’s. It’s there from any time after six onwards a collection of strays and acquaintances would be attempting to drink the bar dry.

She was almost always the first to the bar, and almost always the last to leave.

On Saturday night Shazza knocked back yet another neat double vodka down her throat, triumphantly licked her lips, then wiped her face with the back of her hand and then gregariously waving the empty glass around in the air shouted over the background music to the poor bar man “Another round for my girls! I will pay whoop-whoop!” She smiled in the mirror behind the optics and tugged up her pink glittery boob tube that was already slipping halfway down her sweaty large braless breasts, she looked to herself in the mirror, she looked fucking Hot, her blonde locks tied back keeping her face taught, her eyes were surrounded by her glittery blue mascara, her lips were glossed bright red, she felt wonderful.

As the large, illuminated bar clock ticked past nine, the cute dark haired and dark skinned, almost Spanish looking barman that she called Pedro, although he was called Steve, topped up six fresh glasses from the vodka bottle and the girls all started banging their fists on the bar and chanting “down it, down it, down it.” They all did and burst into a shrieking cacophony of giggles. The night was still young.

With the glasses again empty, and music increased in level, this was the cue for Shazza. She then led them to the empty dance floor, she swooped and grabbed hold of the shiny metal pole positioned in the middle of the room with her left hand almost hugging it for stability, however as the DJ clocked that she was in position and as the music changed, and the tempo increased, her well lubricated hips gyrated to the beat. As her friends clapped and cheered, whilst holding on to the pole she squatted on the floor, her short green skirt riding up her slim white thighs as she tensed her small muscles and pulled her arms, her bare, waxed crotch almost spot lit as she seductively slid up and down the polished metal tube in perfect syncopation for a few minutes, then she determined it was past the time for yet another cigarette.

Sharon had always been a party animal, her mum and dad owned several different pubs over the years, as such smoking and alcohol was no stranger to her or them. Her brother took on the mantle as he now owned FWB which is why she loved spending her nights there. Most people would want to bar hop, but she saw it as she was helping her big brother out. Plus, the staff would ensure if on the rare occasions she was still there alone at closing time that she safe in the back of taxi. Craig was also relieved that he could also keep an eye on his drunk little Sister. She felt safe there.

The late-night lock ins at her parents’ pub were infamous in the village that she lived. A teenager it was great, her mum used to throw the most amazing parties, with plenty of drinks and food, that lasted long into the night as everyone would drink and dance the night away.

Shazza loved to dance too, as a child she had dreams of being a ballet dancer, and then a little older as professional disco dancer, but bills needed to be paid, so a proper job was required, but dancing in bars and nightclubs all night long, was the next best thing. Who needed a gym when you danced at least three nights a week?

When drunk she thought she was the most amazing dancer, people occasionally actually stopped to watch and enjoy their drinks when she was in full flow, and she thought she was that good.

When Shazza drank she felt invincible, she felt on top of the world, right at the very pinnacle of snow topped Everest, drinking and dancing made the world feel right. Her body and the music entwined together into a very special place; the alcohol blocked off everything and she could lose herself from every worry in the real outside world.

Shazza drank a lot because it made her feel a better person. She smoked too, but to her the two went together like cheese and biscuits. But as Sharon made sure that she still worked hard during the day. She survived over the years burning the candle at both ends, as the flame helped her light her cigarettes, but she got her work done and done well. She was lucky, throughout the years, she never really got a hangover, nicotine, paracetamol and coffee and she could soon luckily glide through the night and day.

After her required cigarettes outside, followed by yet another round of downed double vodka drinks, Shazza was again dancing in the middle of her friends on the dance floor. When at a little after ten a group of six well dressed, but obviously beer loaded guys stomped down the stone steps in the corner of the bar. She knew in the coming moments was her time to shine. The guys congregated by the bar, ordered their Jack Daniels and cokes, and turned, and several pointed at the dancing and watched on.

The gaggle of girls and their gay friend Dave created their own little fortress in the middle of the dance floor as they bounced and waved their arms in the air to the music.

After a while, Sharon nodded her head in the direction of the bar lined with men and made the hand single for another drink, quickly the girls all nodded and whooped in agreement. They followed her like lemmings back to the bar, seeing their prey lined up.

It didn’t take Tracey long in her low-cut glittery dress to get the dark-haired man called Chris to agree to buy the girls all a drink, it didn’t take the girls long to down them, and whilst grinning and laughing ask for another. They did this most weekends, it was what they did best. They tried to drink the bar dry, especially if the men were paying.

The room was spinning with the lights, music, Hot men, and plenty of drinks in her bloodstream it was Shazza’s perfect territory. She dragged the girls and the reluctant guys back on the dancefloor, she knew tonight was going to be fun. The twelve of them bobbed and bounced to the music, her bottom collided with a guy, she wiggled her thighs to the music continuing to bounce against him, letting him know she was there.

With her glasses off, and the world swirling she just rode the night life wave, the bright lights flashing, her heart pumping, he spun around and grinned as he put his firm hands on her bare skin waist, before slowly moving them down to her hips as he pulled her closer, they danced rhythmically together swirling together, his hands grabbed her buttocks and pulled her even closer to his hips as they danced and moved as one. Neither of them now was hitting the rhythmic beat of the music as they moved their bodies together the best they could. His large firm hands squeezed her soft buttocks harder as she ran both her hands down his sweaty shirt covered back.

He looked down at her and beery breath breathlessly almost touched lips as he loudly said over the music, “I need to drain the snake; I will be right back!” and dropped his hands from her body and wriggled Free of her arms and disappeared in the direction of the darkness.

She momentarily frowned, wiggled her hips to the beat of the music as she tugged her skirt back down her thighs a little and then swaying in time to the music as she then moved through the dance floor, she then grabbed Tracy’s arm and put two fingers to her lips to symbolise time for a cigarette, as the loud music boomed around them, she pulled Tracey away from her male catch to take her in the direction of the smoking alley out the back, via the toilets.

They took in turns to look in the broken single mirror and adjusted their clothing and grinned at each other, then staggered outside “Oh this is fun!” Shazza stated shivering on her short skirt and boob-tube as she put the filter between her lips, offering the lighter to Tracey, before lighting her own.

“Oh, babes it is, whose yours called, mines a sexy Pete?” Tracey asked as she then tilted her head back as she pulled smoke into her waiting lungs.

“I have no idea, and I don’t care, he is gorgeous and fucking Hot!” Shazza grinned around her dangled cigarette as she started tugging and attempting but failing to rearrange the decency of her boob tube yet again.

“Will you fuck him?” Tracey asked as her smoke plumed from her face.

“If I can, I, fucking will!” she cackled her deep laugh as she leaned against the brick wall and took yet another hit on her cigarette. “He looks amazing!” she stated as her smoke drifted off across the tiny courtyard.

“Come one then babes, let’s go back in for the kill.” Tracey replied stubbing her cigarette out against the wall, letting the butt drop to the floor.

“Hell yeah, let’s get another drink, I am parched!” Shazza replied before taking a double pump inhale before flicking the cigarette against the wall as she exhaled and as the back door opened the muffled sound of the deafening music increased, they bopped to the beat and headed towards the bar again.

***

Sharon sniffed her jacket and smiled as she smelt the overpowering smell of her Chanel No5 hiding her morning cigarette smoke and deftly flicked with her long nails and undid the top button on her blouse, she contemplated a second, but stopped. She took a deep breath, held her papers close to chest and with her heart thumping strode down the carpeted path to Adam’s office. She surreptitiously glanced back at her bag, wishing she could have a cigarette before going in, she turned back, held her head high as everyone looked on, their eyebrows twitching slightly in concern as Adam almost never asked for help with anything.

***

Shazza looked around hunting through her fuzzy view for her man as the lights flashed and the music thundered on, she stumbled, swayed and staggered whilst attempting to shake her body to the music to the bar and then fell against the bar once she had found her tall dark-haired man leaning against it, and with two giggling attempts and a cough she hopped on to the bar stool beside him flashing a lot of more of her legs than she had intended as she rested her elbow on the bar.

“Oh, you have returned, thought I’d lost you, what can I get you?” He asked politely sniffing the air of the fresh cigarette smoke aroma filling the space between them.

She grinned “Ish needed to smoke too, but now I am backs and I has found you, I’m Shazza and I drink large double vodkas, neat, not rocks!” she confidently slurred as her head wobbled on her neck and shoulders as she tried smiling at him, whilst trying to work out who he was, the world was very blurry without her glasses or contacts, not helped by plenty of the drink, but she could tell he looked rather sexy.

“Sounds good, I will join you Shazza!” he replied talking a good look at her, and then got Steve’s attention and asked for two drinks.

“Then we dance!” she drunkenly replied informatively whilst rotating her shoulders to the music. “Together!”

He smiled at the drunk Shazza “I guess that is not a problem.” He replied not stating his name as he opened his wallet and touched his card against the machine.

She clocked no wedding ring on his finger, thanked him for the drinks then instantly necked her drink in one, licked her lips and then grinned at the success as the alcohol burned her throat. “Comes on you let’s dance.” She purred.

Shazza slowly slid off the stool, the back of her short green skirt caught on the leather seat, and quickly rode up revealing her bare crotch to the man, who smiled appreciatively as she slowly and seductively tugged and adjusted her skirt back down and protected what little was left of her modesty and then grabbed his hand pulled him towards the dance floor, distracting him from his thoughts, as swiftly as she drunkenly as she could, as his eyes were fixated with her cute swaying bottom, the skirt not covering the lower quarter of either of her pert buttocks knowing what was under that incredibly short skirt.

***

Sharon took a deep breath, knocked on the door, adjusted her jacket, doing the button up, then took in turns of wiping the sweat from each her hands on her skirt as she held the files close to her thumping chest as Adam called out “Enter”.

***

As the towns church bells struck twelve, they stood and patiently waited as Shazza took a final inhale, flicked her cigarette the tip flashing orange against the dark sky as it hit the pavement and she exhaled, he opened the door and then they fell into the back of the taxi together, he declared that they had to go to hers. She leaned in, her smoke covered lips locked with his yet again as she passionately kissed him as his hand stroked her thigh, as the driver politely coughed, they giggled in unison as they stopped, and she quickly agreed giving the driver her address. His strong hands stayed firmly on her knee as she kissed him once more before resting her drunken head on his shoulder as the taxi drove through the downtown the three blocks to her flat.

When they pulled up outside her place, once the driver turned on the almost sobering internal light, the realisation hit her who her prey was when in a moment of clarity, she finally saw his name embossed in silver as he kindly offered to pay for the taxi on his card.

***

“Good morning, Sharon, good weekend?” He winced as she quietly closed the door behind her.

She smiled “Yeah, thanks, Adam it was, had an amazing Friday and Saturday night.” She beamed. “Monday comes around far too quickly!” she breezily replied.

“Tell me about it, take a seat!” He pointed the other side of the desk. She nodded undid the button on her jacket and promptly sat down, and as soon as she was seated, he instantly stood up. He checked his shirt was tucked in then paced the two steps up and down that there the length of his desk.

“So, Adam, how can I help you?” She looked up and smiled and as he turned to face her, his face almost beetroot in complexion as she slowly and exaggeratedly crossed her legs over ensuring his eyes caught her flashing her stocking tops in the process before shuffling the papers she had in her hand before placing them on her lap.

He nervously played with his wedding ring, that was now clearly on his finger, “Well, I will cut to the chase, I believe I need to apologise!”

***

Shazza kept them both waiting after having yet another now nervous cigarette leaning against the wall outside her block. Once it was stubbed out under her shoe, she eventually got her key into the yale lock for the downstairs door, once it was open and she had taken the first step inside Adam’s hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to him, she wiggled Free exclaiming that she needed a wee and he was squeezing her bladder and then tried to sprint up the stairs but kept bouncing off the side of the wall and the banister as in a fit full of nervous giggles she staggered up the stairs to her 3rd floor flat, Adam following a couple of paces behind watching as for every two steps her skirt rode up her buttocks which she would pull down and then repeat with every other step.

She leaned beside her wooden door and waited the two seconds for him to join her. She raised her head, smiled invitingly, and waited to be kissed again, their lips locked momentarily before turning and with his body closer to hers, his beer laden breath on her neck and his hands around her waist she got the key in the lock.

With the door open on the tiny maisonette apartment, she rubbed her hand up and down the wall until she found the light switch then she staggered to the short distance to her bathroom and whilst leaving the door open dropped her skirt to the floor and noisily peed. “I will be there in a second!” she called out whilst leaving Adam to look around the poky flat.