Whipped Into Shape

I was sitting on Mike's couch the night it started.

I'd been staying with him for a few days. Since everything went haywire. Truth be told I wasn't sure where I was going to end up.

On the evening in question I was slumped on the couch, which was currently doubling as my bed. It wasn't the greatest sleeping spot ever. Mike's mountain bike hung on a wall mounted rack above it. Given Mike's lackadaisical approach to life in general I didn't especially trust his DIY wall mount.

Some reality crap was blasting out of the TV. Mike was in the kitchen rustling up some food, in the couple of hours between two of his various gig jobs.

For my part I was surveying the wreckage of the six pack I had just demolished and weighing my need for more beer against my current level of drunkenness and lack of motivation. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, as I had been pretty much all of the time since the cancellation of the wedding.

Mike walked into the room carrying a ridiculously large burrito and slipped into his armchair. At the same moment my phone, which was sitting amongst the beer cans on the coffee table lit up with an alert. "Huh, weird."

Mike frowned at me, while attempting to maneuver the huge burrito, which was noticeably sagging in the middle, towards his mouth. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "Text from an unknown number. Just says 'Hey'."

Mike's frown deepened. "Dude, you are the fucking worst at saving people's numbers. Tell me the number it's from."

I read the number to him. He repeated the last three numbers back under his breath "4-1-1" he pondered. The burrito's architecture looked like it was about to fail any second. "I know that number - cos it was so weird. Y'know 411. Who was it... Wyclef Jean..."

I groaned. Mike's brain's weird tangents frequently derailed our conversations. Then a literal lightbulb came on behind his eyes. "Oh shit! I know who it is!" He scrambled to pull his own phone from his pocket, the burrito now clenched in one hand. "Dude it's her...!"

I looked at him, puzzled.

The burrito disintegrated. Most of the contents landed on Mike's t-shirt. "Fuck!" He continued to fumble for his phone, before finally freeing it from his pocket. He unlocked it, tapped a couple of times and held it up triumphantly. "Shit, it is her!"

I was starting to get annoyed now "Who?"

"You know... thai-venezuelan-swedish domme girl! Holy fuck..."

Kioko. A major part of the reason my life was now in the shitter. But why the fuck was she texting me?

At this point I'd probably best backtrack and talk you through my epic path to crashing on Mike's sofa.

This is how I used to live too. Like seven years ago. I'd sit up late smoking weed, eating trash. I worked a bar job, which was well suited to this lifestyle. I espoused conspiracy theories. I freaked out normies. I was also up to my eyeballs in debt.

I needed a solution. So, as Mike put it, I went corporate. A real job - financial services. I'm not stupid, so I moved up quickly. It was quite exciting. Soon I could afford my own place and nice stuff. And I met Kimberley.

She worked for the same company I did, in a more senior role. She was driven, and she pursued me with energy. She initiated everything. First kiss, first date, first time we slept together, when we moved in together. I was swept along. Her focus on us was flattering. It also saved me working too hard at it. It helped very much that she's cute. Real cute. Petite with dark bobbed hair and big brown eyes. We were very different as people, but she explained it made us complimentary. Like the way purple and gold go together.

After three years together I proposed, in the face of the very strong hints she had been dropping. She accepted. Within weeks a date was set and arrangements were being made. Once again, she was all over it. I just needed to nod in agreement occasionally.

My friends were insistent on a bachelor party. I was kind of shocked when Kimberley agreed, but she seemed to want all the wedding trimmings, even the ones she would typically find unsavoury. Even the fact that Mike, who was my best man, was the organiser did not deter her (she had a notable distaste for Mike).

So the party was set up.

It was the usual predictable garbage.

We ended up in a private area in a large soulless nightclub.

When we walked in there was a single chair in the middle of the floor. Mike laughed and raised his eyebrows. I told him to fuck off.

"Just bring the stripper out then, let's get it over with."

Mike and my other buddy Glen, who had helped with the arrangements both nearly doubled over with laughter.

"Dude. You'll want to sit down." I moved to the chair and sat, making my lack of amusement clear. "We did not get you a stripper..." Glen looked like he might actually piss his pants he was chuckling so hard. "Dude! We got you a dominatrix!"

As if on cue a curtain beside the bar area swished open and Kioko emerged.

They had certainly got me a dominatrix.

She was utterly stunning.

She was wearing a PVC bunny half mask. From the rear her long wavy honey blonde hair protruded. Her eyes were bright blue and her skin the colour of gold. Her facial features were distinctly Asiatic looking. I'd never seen a girl so exotic looking.

She was wearing a black leather raincoat, tied at the waist, and thigh high PVC boots with stiletto heels. She had a briefcase in one hand and a black leather paddle in the other.

She regarded me coolly. "So is this the little worm who needs my attention tonight?"

Glen and Mike were literally holding each other up they were laughing so hard. There was a ripple of amusement from the rest of the room.

Kioko shot Mike and Glen a savage look. The whole room went quiet. "Sit and watch."

Her gaze turned on me. I'd been doing calculus. I had decided her ethnicity was likely Brazilian-Swedish-Japanese. Her eyes were like cut sapphires.

She set the briefcase and paddle down on the floor, then untied the raincoat and shrugged it off her shoulders. I think I audibly gasped.

She was wearing nothing but black bikini bottoms.

Her breasts were incredible, large and high and firm, capped with little dark brown nipples. Her stomach was toned and muscular, as were her limbs. She did a little pivot in front of me. Her ass was like nothing I'd ever seen, flaring out from her narrow waist, large, toned, bountiful.

She advanced on me, walking with a cat like grace in the enormous stilettos heels. She stopped in front of me, close enough that I had to look up in order to meet her gaze. She had picked the paddle up and was weighing it in her hands. She smiled cruelly.

"On your knees."

I did as I was told. She circled me. I noticed the room was now genuinely hushed.

"All fours. Crawl to the other end of the floor."

I followed her instructions, vowing revenge on Mike at some later point. I reached the wall and stopped.

She appeared behind me. "Take your trousers down."

Once again I did as I was commanded.

"Back on all fours."

I did as she asked. She traced the paddle down my back. "Your friends tell me you are a little pervert."

I didn't say anything

"I don't like little perverts. I think they need... corrected."

She tapped me gently on the ass with the paddle.

"Do you need corrected?"

This elicited hoots from my friends.

She shot a withering glare to the room, which quickly quietened.

I swallowed. "No."

She laughed mirthlessly. "So you are a good little boy?"

I nodded non-commitally.

"Say it!"

"What?"

"Say 'I am a good little boy, mistress'."

I went to speak. She cut me off. "Crawl back to your chair as you do it." She rubbed her hand on the paddle like she meant business. I did as she ordered. She was grabbing things from the briefcase as I crawled past her.

When I reached the seat she called to me. "Sit."

She advanced down the room, her bunny ears waggling. She held up a pair of metal handcuffs. "Hands behind your back."

She moved behind the chair and cuffed my hands tightly so my arms were wrapped round the back of the chair. In spite of myself I had an erection. I could smell her as she wafted around me and could feel the heat rising from her skin.

She stood directly behind me. I tried to crane my neck to see her. She lent down close to my ear.

"I'm glad to hear you are a good little boy. That means you get a treat." She walked round and stood in front of me then turned, giving me an unobstructed view of her stunning ass.

She dropped onto my lap, straddling my right leg, still facing away and ground her crotch right down my thigh. I felt something hard scrape down my leg.

She looked over her shoulder at me. "You feel that? That's my little toy. It's been inside my ass all day. And mistress has had such a busy day. I've worked out, been to a dance class, done another bachelor party already. I've worked up quite a sweat." She paused, lifted herself an inch off my lap, stuck her ass out, reached down, and retrieved a little black butt plug with a jewelled handle from her ass. She twisted so she was sitting on my knee facing my friends. I realised my work buddy, Rudy, was filming proceedings on his phone intently. She held the little plug up for the audience. She slung her other arm round my neck. "I bet it's extra tasty now." She squeezed in close, pressing her tits against my chin and tipping my head back. "Open wide."

Against my better judgement I did. A cold smile crossed her face as she pushed the butt plug into my mouth. It tasted acrid and salty, yet strangely floral. She giggled indulgently. "What a good boy. Hold it in there."

She squeezed my cheeks with her hand. She looked right into my eyes then held her hand under my mouth. "Spit it out." I did.

She regarded the toy happily. "What do you say?"

I hesitated. "Thank you?"

"Thank you what?"

"Thank you mistress?"

"Good boy"

The indignities continued. She uncuffed me and got me down on all fours again then smacked me about, first with a short black flogger she produced from the briefcase and then with her hands. I'll be honest. She slapped the shit out of me. It was sore. She paused suddenly. She had spotted the large erection that was now swinging between my legs. She reached down and grabbed my balls through the thin cotton of my boxer shorts, not squeezing, but making it really clear she could if she wanted. I looked up and saw Glen visibly wincing.

She leant over and spoke right next to my ear.

"What's this?" She poked my dick with her pinky nail.

I sighed "A hard-on."

She shook her head. She squeezed my balls a little. I recoiled in panic. "I don't recall telling you it was acceptable to get a hard-on."

I didn't know what to say.

"Lie on your back so everyone can see your pathetic little dick poking against your shorts. You are not a good boy at all. You are a naughty little pervert. And you are going to get what you deserve."

As soon as I was on my back she squatted over my face at an angle. She stretched her right leg out and brought her stiletto down perilously close to my crotch.

"Beg your mistress not to crush your pathetic dick to a pulp."

I went to speak, but the sound was drowned out by her lowering her ass onto my face. She held it there and ground against me. I could hear my friends jeering.

"I can't hear you." She lifted her ass for a second. Just as I went to talk she lowered it again and ground again.

"Speak up or I will emasculate you, you sleazy little creep."

I spoke against her ass. In spite of my terror, her skin smelt incredible. She rubbed her heel against my scrotum and ground her ass down on my face. She was mock riding my face now. She dug her nails into my chest, called me a few more names, then suddenly it was over.

She clambered off me, bowed to her audience and collected her things and pulled her jacket back on before disappearing behind the curtain.

My friends cheered.

I pulled myself up and retrieved my trousers. Several of the guys made a beeline for me. Mike was grinning widely. "Oh man, that was amazing. Your face..." he saw my lack of amusement. "Come on man, if nothing else you have to admit, she is like the hottest girl you have ever seen..."

I was fuming. Mike shouted over to Rudy. "Dude, I hope you got all of that. You need to share that to the group chat." Rudy, who was almost incomprehensibly drunk, hollered something back.

The rest of the night proceeded exactly as one would expect. I was plied with drink until events became inexplicable. I was rolled into a taxi and rolled back out at home.

I don't remember getting into bed, but was woken by Kimberley getting up at her normal early hour. My eyes peeled open. "Good god, you absolutely stink." She shook her head. "Try and sleep it off."

I dozed on and off, but I was in that state where I was too hungover to sleep. I was thirsty and waves of nausea were overwhelming me. I thrashed and squirmed, but couldn't settle. This went on for a couple of hours. Eventually I gave up and slouched down the stairs.

Kimberley was in the living room. She was looking at her phone. She didn't look up at me as I came into the room. "Couldn't sleep" I noted casually. She didn't respond. This was slightly concerning. She still hadn't looked at me.

I found my phone, wallet and keys piled on the hall table. I picked my phone up. There were a lot of messages. All sorts of drunken nonsense in the bachelor party chat.

And incongruously a single message, the most recent, to an informal work chat (thankfully not corporate sanctioned), that included myself, Kimberley and our work social group. The message was a multimedia file. Sent by Rudy. It didn't load straight away when I clicked. As it buffered Kimberley spoke. She didn't look up. "You fucking asshole." Kimberley was not a swearer. "How could you?" The video loaded. It was me. On the floor, Kioko grinding her nearly bare ass on my face. My erection clearly visible against my shorts.

Kimberley started to cry.

Things were kind of a blur after that. She went quiet for a long time. Then the shouting started. Kimberley has a bastard temper - for a girl who is always so proper, when she loses it, she seriously fucking loses it.

She eventually stormed out, but was back soon. Obviously just needed some air. She actually apologised for screaming at me. But she told me very calmly that she was furious at me. I think that was worse than the screaming. She went quiet again after that.

Then later in the evening she said it. We had been sitting in silence for a long time. "I don't know you at all." That was all she said. She got up, disappeared upstairs and returned 10 minutes later with her overnight bag. This was not good. "I can't stay here tonight. I'm going to my parents." She gave me a sad little smile. "I'll call you when I'm ready to talk." Then she was gone.

She didn't call the next day, and I started to feel panicky. I called her that evening. No answer. I tried again an hour later. Same again. I steeled myself and called her parents' home number. Her mother answered. She listened to me. She clearly knew if not everything, then at least the main headlines. Kimberley's mother had always tolerated me in a puzzled sort of way, much like I imagine if a drunken relative brought home a stray animal they had found in a lay-by. Tonight she affected her usual patient tone with me. But she made it clear. Kimberley did not want to talk to me. And at the moment her instinct was to postpone the wedding.

Within 24 hours this has escalated from postponement to full cancellation. Kimberley's father called me. We had always got on because Kimberley was the oldest of three daughters. He was used to being savagely outnumbered, and saw me as a potential ally. I was frequently used as a reason when I visited as to why sport should be on the television.

But I'd broken his little girl's heart. And now it was time for a man to man talk. The wedding was off. I wasn't even to think about contacting Kimberley. And if I knew what was good for me, I'd be out the house within 24 hours.

So I packed up. Not unthinkingly. I didn't have a lot. My book and record collections had been early casualties of Kimberley's need for a minimal living space. A little voice at the back of my head was resentful though. She had sanctioned the bachelor party. I hadn't asked for a stripper let alone a dominatrix. Was this really all my fault?

Now here I was staring at my phone. The single word: "Hey" still on screen.

I looked at Mike, my brain trust, who was now shamelessly eating burrito filling off his own front.

"What do I do?"

He sighed like he was dealing with a problem child. "Reply."

"Saying what?"

"Jesus. Just say 'hey' back if you don't have anything better to say."

Against my better judgement I followed his advice. I could see Kioko start typing a response immediately.

"I heard what happened with the video. Unfortunate."

I shook my head. Mike was on tenterhooks. "What did she say?"

I read the text out. He shook his head. "Wow. That bitch is cold."

I frowned at him. "How does she know about it?"

Mike pondered this. "Glen got her number at the end, ostensibly for a future booking, but the sad fuck actually thought he had a chance with her, if he could just wow her with his witty text repartee."

Mike shook his head sadly. "He's fucking delusional." I nodded agreement. Glen was notably bad at flirting.

My phone display changed. "She's typing again."

Mike rubbed his hands together.

The message came through. "Don't do anything stupid."

I scowled at my phone. "What the fuck? Has Glen told her I'm a fucking risk or something?!"

Mike was now leaning over to read my phone. I shifted slightly, concerned I might end up wearing some of the salsa he was covered in.

I typed back "What do you mean?"

She replied immediately. "What are you doing just now?"

"Getting drunk and watching the Kardashians." I figured I may as well be honest.

Again her reply was instant. "Pretty much as I thought."

Before I could respond she messaged again. "Turn it off. Stop drinking. Have a shower and then go to bed."

Mike burst out laughing. "Oh shit man. Think she's going to come round and spank you again?"

I was actually speechless. I typed back "Sorry what?"

She replied again "I won't repeat myself. Goodnight James."

I stared at my phone agog.

I slept late the next day and awoke to another message from Kioko.

"I hope you took my advice. I'm busy today, but should be free after six."

I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. I texted her: "?"

She replied quickly. "Jesus Christ. Be at GRND Coffee at 6.30pm"

I looked at my phone in confusion. Mike appeared from the kitchen.

"What's a-happening?" he asked cheerily.

I showed him my phone.

"Holy fuck dude. Did she say why?"

I shook my head.

He burst out laughing. "Glen is on his way over. He's going to shit when he sees this."

Glen and another friend Denny appeared presently. Mike had mapped out an exciting evening of getting high and playing Xbox for the three of them.

Glen looked genuinely crushed when I showed him the messages. "Dawg! I decided to shoot my shot with her last night. She's very polite for a mean girl, I'll say that for her." He shook his head ruefully.

Denny smiled blearily. He had evidently had a smoke already. "Think she wears the bunny mask all the time? That would be pretty fucked up. But also awesome, y'know? If she was just sitting in the coffee shop waiting for you in the mask and those big boots." I winced thinking of the heels in proximity to my groin.

Glen looked crestfallen "Fuck man..."

I secretly felt a bit smug, even though I had no idea what Kioko's intentions were. "I don't even know if I'll go or not."

"The fuck man?" Glen gasped.

"Yeah. What. The. Actual. Fuck." It was Mike. I was shocked at his vehemence.

"Excuse me?"

Mike looked genuinely outraged. "An insanely hot Colombian-Korean-Icelandic chick has just unprompted asked you out and you are saying" he affected a mopey voice, "''urr eh don't know if eh'll goo.' Why the fuck not?"

He was glaring at me.

I sighed. "If I'm going to patch things up with Kimberley, I can't be going out for coffee with random dominatrix girls. Imagine someone we knew saw me and told her - I'd be fucked."

Denny chimed in at this point "Man. You are so fucked already. I've seen the video. You are so hot for that girl treating you like a little bitch." He guffawed at the image. "Shit - no judgement; I had a sympathy hard-on and everything." He smiled cheerfully as the rest of us grimaced. "But the fact is, next time you two are..." he smirked "doing the old delta foxtrot, all she is going to see in her head is you begging that girl like a little weiner not to fuck you up. And she's going to remember how hot you were for it..."

Mike plowed back in. "You are at a pivot point in your life my friend. What was that film with Gwyneth Paltrow... you know the one..."

"Iron Man" Denny randomly shouted.

Mike ignored him. "She misses a train and has a bad British accent."

"Sliding Doors" I sighed, unsure where he was going with it.

"Yes. Precisely. Rudy's moment of madness sending that vid to the wrong chat was that moment for you. You could have had path one. Domestic stultitude with Kimberley. Growing old and decomposing in a beautifully decorated house. Or path two - letting that insane scando-latina-asian do all sorts of wild shit to you. Dude. She's a fucking professional. I'm a pretty twisted guy and even I can't imagine half the shit she likely gets up to in the privacy of her own home."

Glen stared wistfully at the ceiling "I bet her home is awesome..."

Mike sat forward "Dude. Real talk. Kimberley's an okay girl, you know. She's nice. And she keeps it tight." I glowered at him. "Just saying. But ask yourself this..."

Before he could finish Denny cut in "What did you actually do dude? Seriously? Got a hard-on? What guy wouldn't have? She's holding you to an un-fucking-reasonable standard here!"

Mike picked up seamlessly "Exactly. And you know for a fact that if she does deign to take you back that she will dangle this over you for the rest of your life like the sword of fucking Damocles... now stop arguing with us and go and pick out your best threads man. I'm not having you embarrassing us in front of Kioko!"

I found myself nervously sat in the coffee shop at 6.15, wearing a western shirt and ripped jeans, an outfit that was deemed acceptable by my friends AKA "baked eye for the straight guy."

The coffee shop itself was not my vibe. It was minimalist. The staff all looked like models. The coffee was expensive, and the baked goods were weird and showy. I sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair and asked myself what the fuck I was doing here.

Then Kioko walked in. She wasn't wearing the bunny mask. Her golden hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, with a few stray strands framing her face. She looked younger without her make-up on.

She was dressed entirely in black - a short leather jacket over a plain t-shirt, tight jeans and a pair of ballet slippers. She looked astonishing.

I stood as she approached the table. She slid into the seat opposite me, and without acknowledging me turned and flagged down a waitress and ordered a coffee.

She turned back to me. "I didn't appreciate having to effectively ask you out."

I looked at her nonplussed. She went on.

"If I ever happen to tell you I'm available again you make an arrangement for that time and text me back with the details. Okay?" She said it firmly.

I nodded obediently.

Kioko's coffee came. She sat quietly for a moment.

I plucked up my courage. "Why are we here?

I saw her soften in front of me. A chink in her armour. "I wanted to see you to check you were okay, given your current situation."

I was stunned by her answer, especially given her hostile tone at the outset of the conversation. "Seriously?"

I saw something visibly harden on her face. "Yes seriously. I am a professional. I can't have my name associated with fiascoes like this - one bad review can torpedo my career. I can't help that your friends are fuck ups, but I can make sure that their moronic conduct doesn't impact me."

I shook my head. "You've nothing to worry about from me. None of this is your fault."

"I know. So how are you feeling about everything that has happened?"

I thought about it honestly. "Mixed up. Depressed. A bit lost. Humiliated. It's a lot."

She nodded. "I understand. I told your friend Glen to stop sharing the video, even though it's some of my finer work if I say so myself."

I grimaced.

She frowned at me. "Don't be coy. You enjoyed it."

I didn't say anything.

She leant forward across the table and stared me down. "Say it." Her blue eyes sparkled. "Say you enjoyed it."

I flushed and looked down at the table. "I did."

She shook her head. "No." She hissed. "Say it. Now."

I looked up, my cheeks burning "I enjoyed it."

She smiled and took the last mouthful of her coffee. "Good. I need to go now. But I'll check in soon. Stop drinking so much and start taking some pride in your appearance. I want you to be clean shaven next time I see you."

She stood, turned and walked out, leaving me to pay the bill.

When I got home Mike was on his own. It wasn't late.

"Where are the others?"

He shook his head ruefully. "Sore losers. My undefeated streak continues. But that's not important right now." He stared at me, his eyes wide.

"It was weird." I ventured. "She immediately went on the offensive. Told me off for not replying to her messages the way she would expect."

Mike shrugged. "Girl like that - she can afford to have standards. Then what?"

"The next bit was the weird bit. She asked how I was doing. And seemed genuinely concerned. Then two minutes later she was all businesslike, saying she didn't want any professional fallout... Major tonal dissonance."

Mike nodded.

"At the end she made me do something."

Mike smiled "Now we're getting to the good stuff."

"No, nothing like that. She made me say something. Like ordered me."

Mike looked baffled.

"Trust me. It was hot. The way she looked at me. Like there would be consequences if I didn't."

Mike looked like he was processing. "Nah, I'm still not getting it. But to each their own my friend. So what now?"

"There was a vague implication she would be in touch soon. She told me to clean my act up."

Mike laughed "Dude. You are like the most vanilla, milquetoast individual I know. What's she wanting - a fucking saint?"

I smiled "I think she means I need to take control of my circumstances."

He shook his head "A domme and a life coach. Girlfriend got mad talents."

The next night was Friday. By early evening my friends all had a buzz on and had decided to go out and cruise the bars. I had resolved myself to an evening of wallowing and possibly indulging in some half hearted masturbation while I had the place to myself.

The text came through at 8PM.

"I have no dinner plans tomorrow night."

I felt panic flare. I guessed this meant Kioko was expecting me to entertain her. But I had no idea what to do. What food did she enjoy? How upmarket should I aim? Was it just dinner or should I plan a whole evening? What the fuck did she actually want with me?

As my thoughts spiralled a second message appeared. "I meant what I said yesterday. If you show up looking like a hobo again I will cause a scene."

Great, so no pressure.

I turned off the TV and went for a wash. I showered and shaved, then made an online booking for my barber for the next morning. I rummaged through the couple of bin bags of clothes that I had stashed in Mike's hall cupboard and found a couple of my smarter shirts, which I threw in the washing machine. I had no dressy shoes or trousers though, so a trip to the shops was required after my haircut. After I was done I lay down on the sofa and pulled my blanket up to my chin. I couldn't sleep though.

The next morning I got my haircut. I told my barber, Paco, that I had a date. He looked legitimately baffled. "Thought you were engaged to that cute brunette?" Paco had a legitimately remarkable memory.

I gave him a brief summary of events.

"Wow, so you moved quick bruh."

I was honest with him. "I don't think I'm moving at all. I feel like things are happening to me and I just need to hold on for the ride."

He shook his head. "Nah man. That ain't it. This new girl didn't make you come here. You decided to get your haircut today of your own free will. This all sounds like a cop out in case you fuck things up. Not for nothing, this girl sounds legit. Sounds like she care about you."

Paco had the ability to pull confessions from you without doing anything. "She's fucking horrible to me Paco. Blunt and rude and a bit cruel. And I think I like it."

Paco cackled. "Shee-it. I never had you pegged for one of them perverts. Bet next time I see you baby girl be leading you around on a collar and lead in a nappy or some shit."

Before I paid him he recommended a new restaurant - Mexican seafood done high end. I tipped him extravagantly, and headed off to get some new clothes.

Paco's restaurant recommendation looked like a smart call. It was new, buzzy and got good reviews. It was also expensive.

I texted Kioko the reservation details and turned up twenty minutes early in my new outfit, which Mike had described as making me look "like a pimp - in a good way."

Kioko arrived at exactly 8pm. I had been seated at the bar while our table cleared.

She looked astounding. Her wavy golden hair hung loose and free. She was wearing a simple jade green asymmetrical dress, with a strap on one shoulder, and a high split up one thigh. It hugged her curves, making clear she was wearing nothing underneath. I witnessed several other patrons eye her as she walked to me. She was wearing a little make-up, simple black mascara and pale pink lip gloss.

I stood up and helped her into the bar stool next to me. She gave a dry little smile. "You actually listened. Good. Order me an aperitif please. You choose."

I ordered her a pink gin, which she seemed happy with. Presently our table became free.

I looked at the menu in horror. None of the dishes had prices next to them. There was nothing to distinguish starter and main course. The dishes weren't named, each one was just a list of components:

Arugula - Lime - Prawn

Bacalao - Pico de Gallo - Sea Herbs

One simply read: Tomatoes - Water

Another included smoke as a component.

Kioko actually looked impressed. "This looks good. You've chosen well."

"I don't know what to have." I said truthfully.

The waiter came. He took Kioko's order first. She ordered two dishes. I did the same.

Kioko gave me a little smile across the table as she finished her drink.

"You look much better tonight. How are you feeling?"

I hadn't actually considered it. I was honest. "Nervous. But happy to see you."

She smiled properly this time, just for a moment. It was gentle and warm, her face changed completely. "I'm glad. I don't really date. I hate small talk."

I swallowed. "There goes my plan for the evening."

She actually laughed. A surprisingly feminine little giggle.

A silence fell between us. It was a little awkward.

I grasped for something to say. I came up with something stupid. "How did you end up in your current line of work?"

She looked at me evenly "It was what I always wanted to do when I was a little girl."

"Really?!"

She looked at me like I was an idiot. "I have a master's degree in urban planning. Not an easy sector to get a job in. And to be honest, I earn more money just now than I would as a junior planner. I pick my hours and my jobs. And I'm very good at it. I have a couple of regular clients who essentially support me. Happy?"

"Urban planning - wow..." was the best I could muster.

Just then her two plates arrived - "Arugula - Lime - Prawns" turned out to be a little prawn salad, while "Garlic - Snapper - Chili - Ice" was a cold white garlic broth with filleted snapper on the side. She'd chosen well.

There was no sign of my food. I was conscious of another silence descending. "Settle a bet for me..."

She looked up dubiously from the prawn salad. I realised immediately this was a mistake and tried to recalibrate what I was about to say without being obvious. "Mike and Glen were speculating as to what your... ethnicity is." I cringed as I said it.

She looked at me hard. "My mother is Japanese. My father was German-Brazilian."

"I'm sorry."

"What about?"

"The question. And your dad..."

She frowned at me "Why are you sorry about my dad?"

I stammered "You know... the whole... erm... being dead thing."

She shook her head. "I have no idea if he's dead or alive. I've never met him."

I was fucking up here. Badly. "This isn't going well is it?"

She arched an eyebrow at me and deadpanned. "Whatever gives you that idea?"

The frustration and pain of the last few weeks all bubbled up. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here. What do you want from me Kioko? I don't get your angle at all..."

She looked at me with annoyance. "I don't have an angle."

I groaned. "First you were checking in on me. Then it was professional concern. Then it was... I don't know what it is now."

She looked down at her salad, then back up, unguarded. "I don't know either" she said softly.

Just then my food arrived.

I'd gone for "Octopus - Chorizo - Red Pepper", which looked, and it turned out tasted, delicious; little charred tentacles, oily cubes of sausage and a bright orange sauce.

The second option came under a glass cloche. I had opted for "Whitebait - Rice - Onion". The whitebait were in a little teepee formation, heads pointing upwards, surrounded by a ring of white rice, sprinkled with an indeterminate green powder. The whitebait were banded by three rings of raw white onion. When I lifted the cloche the eye stinging scent of raw onion wafted straight into my face. The whitebait's beady eyes glared accusingly at me. I lifted a spoonful of the rice. The green powder tasted like low tide. I swallowed, trying not to gag. "That is... different..."

Kioko looked across at me with curiousity. "Different how?"

"I don't think I like it."

She frowned at me. "What are you going to do about it?"

I looked at her puzzled.

She sighed and turned. Our waiter was pouring wine at a nearby table. "Excuse me." The waiter didn't react. "EXCUSE me." A few people at adjoining tables turned to see what was going on.

The waiter approached our table. He looked at her patronisingly "Yes miss?"

Something flashed behind her blue eyes. I was almost excited to watch her eviscerate him. Instead Kioko took a breath and turned to me "My date would like to complain about his food."

Kioko and the waiter both turned to me. I guess I probably looked flabbergasted. Kioko folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes appraisingly.

I stuttered. "Erm... yes... the uh, onion smoke was extremely acrid, and the err... rice seasoning...? is quite unpleasant."

The waiter smiled placidly. "I'm sorry to hear that sir. Our head chef apprenticed under Esben Bang at Maeemo in Oslo." He could have been speaking a foreign language for all I knew. "I happen to know that he hand foraged the ingredients in the floral dust just this morning." I had no idea how to respond to this. The waiter looked at me guilelessly.

Kioko rolled her eyes at me.

"Well... erm. I am err... afraid I don't like it."

The waiter continued to look unperturbed. "Well there is no accounting for taste sir."

Kioko had evidently had enough. She looked up at the waiter. "That is not an acceptable answer. What are you going to do about it?"

The waiter was caught out by this sudden switch and stood mute for a moment. Kioko ploughed on "At the very least I do not expect to be charged for that..." she gestured at my plate. "And I would suggest that if you personally do not want this matter escalated that our drinks are also stricken from the bill."

The maitre d' was now hovering and listening intently. He approached the waiter and spoke quietly. He gave Kioko a little bow. "Madam, my sincere apologies." He removed the offending plate of food. The waiter scurried back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. "Courtesy of the house" the maitre d' explained as the waiter poured the drinks.

An old man wearing a cravat at the next table who had been watching the whole scene mimed applause to her.

After they were gone Kioko looked at me. "You didn't handle that brilliantly." Before I could respond she smiled wryly. "It's a good thing you are with me."

We finished our meal without further drama. After we had paid the greatly reduced bill we stood to leave. Kioko offered me her arm, which I took gladly. I was conscious of the eyes of the rest of the restaurant goers on us.

Then it happened. As we passed by the bar I saw her.

Kimberley was on one of the high barstools, evidently waiting to be seated. She looked great. She was wearing a long black strappy dress and cork soled wedges. She was not wearing her engagement ring. Beside her was a guy I had met before. Kyle. An old Uni friend. He was tall and skinny, with spiky hair and no discernible chin. I had met him once before, when he visited town a couple of years back. Kimberley had gone for an evening out with him and a couple of other old friends. I took an instant dislike to him, but I worried I was just being jealous and irrational.

It took Denny, possibly the least aggressive person I know, to affirm my feelings - we had encountered their group at the end of our own night out. Denny was wasted. He slurred drunkenly in my ear. "Well done man on not knocking that cocksucker the fuck out..." I squinted at him in confusion. "That Kyle prick. He may as well have been wearing an 'I want to fuck Kimberley' tee. I mean what the fuck..."

Now he was standing over her whispering something in her ear. Her attention wasn't on him. She was looking straight at me, smiling nervously. "I hope that wasn't you causing the big commotion there James?"

Before I could speak Kioko cut in. "Actually it was."

Kimberley turned and looked at her. "Hi. I'm Kimberley." She offered her hand. Kioko looked at it like it had a skidmark on it, before taking it for a nanosecond "Kioko." Kimberley evidently hadn't tallied the demure beauty at my elbow with the ass-grinding bunny-mask nightmare girl.

"Wow. What a lovely name... and this is..."

Kyle cut her off. "Kyle. Hi." He was staring as if transfixed at Kioko's chest. "So... Kioko. Is that Japanese?"

Kioko snorted and didn't answer. She was still looking at Kimberley.

Kimberley was pointedly not looking back and had returned her focus to me. "Sooo... how have you been?"

I shrugged. "Okay I guess... you?"

She looked down and then back up. "It's been hard, I won't lie... It's nice to see you though." She said it genuinely. Her brown eyes looked huge and liquid.

I was distracted from this reverie by Kioko who unexpectedly slipped her arm round my waist and squeezed herself against my flank. Kimberley registered this. I saw her face drop. Kyle's dropped too.

Kimberley lowered her voice as if this would somehow prevent either Kyle or Kioko hearing. "I'll let you get on with your evening. Can I text you sometime?"

I gave a little nod. She smiled back.

Kioko cleared her throat. "James?"

I smiled at Kimberley. "Speak to you soon."

She nodded, with a satisfied smile. "Nice meeting you Kioko." Kioko gave her a cold little smile and wordlessly turned to leave.

When we were safely out on the pavement Kioko turned and faced me. "If you ever do that again I will rip your balls off."

My smile dropped from my face. "Wha..."

"I saw exactly what you were doing there. You never hold me up beside another woman so that they feel bad about themselves. I am not an object. Are we clear?"

I looked at her shamefaced. I hadn't even realised I was doing it. "Yes. Sorry."

"Good. Now walk me home."

She took my arm again after a while. "So that is the girl that has caused all of your problems?"

I frowned at her "I'm not sure she can be blamed entirely..."

It was Kioko's turn to frown. "Did she ever give you a chance to explain yourself? Did she ever give you a chance to make amends?"

I didn't have an answer.

She stopped outside a modern luxury apartment block. "I imagine you have a lot to think about James. I'm going to say goodnight." I nodded and went to go. "But before I do you are going to kiss me."

I looked at her in confusion. She stepped forward into my space and pressed against me, her firm full breasts squeezing into me. I craned down and kissed her. She kissed back deliberately. Her tongue snaked into my mouth. As she drew back she nipped my bottom lip with her teeth then drew in and kissed me again deeply. This time when she withdrew she took a step back. There was something new in her eyes. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "Goodnight James. We'll speak soon." She unlocked the gated entrance with a fob and disappeared inside.

When I got home the apartment was dark. I turned on the living room light. A note was scrawled on a torn off pizza box lid lying upon the coffee table, Mike informing me of the fact he had gone to a club with Glen. I sighed. Mike was a fuck up, but I could have done with his counsel. I lay on the sofa. In my head I saw Kimberley's brown eyes focussed on me. Then I thought of her with Kyle. I felt Kioko's body pressed against me as she kissed me. I groaned.

At 3AM I was still awake. My phone buzzed and lit up.

It was Kimberley. "Hey. Was good to see youbtonight. youre looking well. It's good. I've been worried about you."

I was just digesting that when a second message followed. "I miss you x"

I texted back. "I miss you too."

She replied immediately. "What you saw tonight wasn't anything. Kyle was just been a good friend because I've been down. We just had dinner and some drinks. I think I have had a bit too many lol"

I had no idea how to explain the Kioko situation. Right on cue she texted again.

"Kioko is lovely. How did you meet?"

I texted back "First proper date. Mutual friends." None of this was a lie, but for some reason I felt guilty sending it.

Kimberley texted back again. "I need to go to sleep. Can we keep talking though? It's good to talk to you."

I sent back a thumbs up emoji. She replied with a heart one.

I barely slept and woke up the next morning befuddled. The whole night felt like something unreal.

Mike emerged from his bedroom mid-morning, fully dressed in his going out clothes, including shoes and jacket. "Man, that was a night. You won't believe this - I think Glen got lucky... He paused. Why do you look like warmed up shit? Thought you were out with the lovely Kioko last night?"

I told him everything. He shook his head "Fuck. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. This is my chance to fix things with Kimberley. But I can't stop thinking about Kioko too. I think I owe it to myself to try and salvage my relationship with Kimberley."

Mike shook his head. "How do you think Kioko is going to take that bro?"

I shrugged "I don't know. I really like her. But I don't know if I'm in love with the idea of her, because she looks amazing and she's just so different."

Mike nodded sagely. "I get you."

"By the way," I noted, "she's half Japanese and half German-Brazilian."

"Motherfucker. That's a winning combo." He thought for a moment. "I'm going to make a burrito."

Kioko texted me later that morning, checking in with me. I didn't know what to say. I left the message on read. I had no doubt she would notice this. I felt wretched.

Kimberley texted me at lunchtime. She had an olympic level hangover by the sound of things. She asked about seeing me. I offered to come over that night, and bring her comfort food, which she enthusiastically agreed to. Kimberley's standard hangover cure had always been 7up and Chinese food.

Kioko sent me another text mid-afternoon. I saw the alert and from the opening sentence I could tell she was pissed off. I left it unread.

I showered, put on more of my new clothes and headed over to see Kimberley, grabbing some 7up and a takeaway on route.

It felt weird arriving at what had been, up to 10 days ago, my own house as a guest.

Kimberley answered the door in a soft cotton pyjama set. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and her face looked clean and scrubbed, like she had just cleaned it. As soon as she saw me she stepped forward and hugged me hard, pressing her head against my chest. "Babe, I am so hungover. Thank you for coming."

We went through to the living room. I served up her food - fried rice and chicken satay - on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. She devoured it.

When she was done she curled up into my side like a kitten. She looked tired and vulnerable. "I've missed you so much..." she cooed quietly. Ten minutes later she was asleep, her head resting on my stomach, snoring softly. I took out my phone and read the last message from Kioko.

"James. If I thought you were ignoring my messages I would be *extremely* annoyed. I can't tell you what to do," I snorted with laughter at this, "but think carefully about what you are doing."

I inhaled deeply and let my shoulders relax. I'd done too much thinking. I was warm and comfortable. I stroked Kimberley's hair as she stirred gently. I picked up the remote and turned the TV on at low volume.

An hour later Kimberley woke. She sat up and without saying anything pulled herself up onto her knees. She leant her forehead against mine and kissed me quickly. She pulled back and looked in my eyes. "I miss this. I miss you looking after me. I miss our routine." She kissed me again, then settled back in next to me. "What are we watching?"

We sat like that for a long time. It felt right. It felt like the last few days were like some grim nightmare I was just waking up from.

Late in the evening I got up to use the bathroom. Kimberley obviously hadn't had the chance to clean it before I came. A wet towel lay on the floor. Based on the state of the toilet, she had evidently thrown up at some point. I placed my hand on the wall above the toilet and leant forward as I urinated. Something glinting on the floor caught my eye. When I had finished peeing I stooped and lifted it.

A man's cufflink. Monogrammed with the initials of what appeared to be a rugby club.

I took my phone out and went onto a social platform. I searched the rugby team's initials. The first pictures on their feed were from a recent sportsman's dinner event. Sitting at the centre of a large group of rich looking dudes in suits was Kyle.

I put the cufflink back where I found it and headed down the stairs. Kimberley smiled when I walked back into the living room.

"I need to get going." I mumbled.

She looked disappointed. "I thought maybe... you could stay?"

I shook my head. "Not a good idea Kimberley. There's more 7up in the fridge. I'll let myself out."

She looked crestfallen.

I was kicking myself as I walked home. I stopped at a store and picked up two six packs of beer.

When I got home Mike, Glen and Denny were in the living room. The air was dense with smoke.

"Here he is" declared Mike. "I was just telling Glen and Denny about how you are literally having to fight off the women. And Glen getting lucky last night too. I am surrounded by playas."

I shook my head. "I've fucked up Mike."

I recounted the evening's events to their rapt silence. Denny was the first to speak. "I told you that guy was a cocksucker. I should have knocked him out for you. Sorry bro." He paused thoughtfully. "I'm not even angry at Kimmy. Just disappointed." Kimberley hated the fact that Denny habitually called her Kimmy.

Glen chipped in. "What are you going to do about Kioko?"

"What can I do? I think I've blown it."

Mike nodded. "So what's your plan?"

"I intend to get shit faced."

I woke around lunchtime the next day, slumped upright on the sofa, with Mike in a similar position on the armchair across from me. As soon as I opened my eyes the hangover hit. The dense stale air of the apartment amplified it. I ran to the bathroom and crouched over the toilet as wave after wave of nausea washed over me.

I made it back to the sofa. I kicked off my jeans and got under my blanket. I was chittering now. Mike was snoring loudly. The coffee table was covered in empties. Two overflowing ashtrays further emphasised the carnage that had taken place. A partially eaten pizza sat on the table. I lifted a slice, took one bite and realised it was not a good idea.

I lay curled on the sofa with my eyes closed for a long time.

I eventually looked at my phone. One message from Kimberley, from about half an hour after I left: "Are you okay?"

I set the phone down and closed my eyes again.

I may have drowsed for a while. Suddenly there was a sharp rap on the door. Mike stirred. He looked confused.

The rap came again. "Fuck off!" Mike howled. He picked up a cushion and clamped it over his head, covering his ears. Suddenly Denny, looking fresh faced and alert, emerged from Mike's bedroom. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

He crossed the hall, opened the door and conferred with whoever was outside. Mike watched, his face a rictus of horror. "What the fuck is he doing?" Mike had a long standing theory that no good ever came of answering random knocks on the door.

We heard Denny's side of the conversation. I closed my eyes again. "Ah right. Yes. I see. You'd best come in."

I opened my eyes. Kioko was standing over the sofa glowering at me.

"Get up."

"Kioko... I... "

"Get up and get dressed!"

"I can't... I'm not..."

"Now." She didn't raise her voice, which made it somehow more threatening. I scrambled up and grabbed my jeans off the floor.

Kioko surveyed the living room. "Look at this mess." She looked at me "A disgrace." I got the feeling she wasn't talking about the room.

Mike was conspicuously quiet. Denny was smiling cheerfully at the whole scene.

She wrinkled her nose. "You actually stink. Come on."

"Where?"

Her blue eyes flashed with genuine suppressed fury. "We are going to get you sorted out. Seeing as I evidently can't trust you to take care of yourself." She headed for the door. I took in at this point how good she looked. The ponytail and leather jacket were back, this time paired with a white vest top and a short denim skirt. The look was completed by a pair of leather knee high boots.

"Move."

I scuttled after her. "Bye guys." Denny yelled happily after us.

We must have made a bizarre pair as she dragged me by the arm up the street, this sparkling girl, and me looking like an actual junkie, pale, sweating, in dirty clothes and an old stained jacket of Mike's I'd lifted by accident as I was whisked out the door.

When we reached her building she fobbed in and then led me to the elevator. We got out on the third floor, a quiet carpeted landing with two doors. A considerable upgrade on my current living arrangements. She unlocked the door closest to the elevator and led me into a large, bright, airy open plan space, decorated minimally but with obvious care.

She took her jacket off and hung it behind the door. She turned to face me. "Strip."

"What the fuck Kioko?"

She almost smiled. "Don't think you are getting lucky here. I'm not letting you within a meter of my soft furnishings smelling like that. Take your clothes off and get in the shower."

I stripped down to my boxers. She shook her head and walked over to me. She took the waistband of my boxers in both hands, looked me in the eyes and dropped into a crouch, dragging them down, still maintaining eye contact. A little pulse of blood shot to my cock.

She stood back up. "In the shower. Now."

She pushed me towards the bathroom door, shoved me through it and slammed the door behind me.

The bathroom was gorgeous, modern and clean, with a large walk-in shower cubicle. The water pressure was vicious. I stayed under it a long time.

At some point while I was under the water a large, soft cotton towel had appeared in the bathroom, as well as two items of clothing; an oversized pink t-shirt with a picture of Whitney Houston on it and a pair of huge baggy grey cotton jogging pants.

I got dressed and dried and emerged back into the living area. Kioko was sitting in an armchair under one of the large windows reading a magazine. When she saw me coming she got up. She smirked. "You look a picture."

I sighed self-pityingly. "I feel dreadful."

She looked straight in my eyes. "You should."

Inside I cringed thinking of my actions over the previous two days. "Kioko, I'm sorry..."

She shooshed me. "Bed. Now. I've left a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table."

Her bedroom was quiet and spare, exactly what I needed at that point. The bed was large and comfy looking, its white sheets and thick duvet giving it the appearance of a big marshmallow. It didn't smell of anything, just a little hint of Kioko. I climbed under the duvet curled on my side and sighed contentedly. In seconds I was asleep.

I woke hours later from a deep sleep, confused and disoriented. I found my phone and checked the time. It was late evening. I had a missed call from Kimberley.

I sat up and glugged the glass of cold water that had been replenished at some point while I slept. I felt better. A little out of sync, but better. I got up and headed for the bedroom door. When I opened it Kioko was standing in the kitchen. She was wearing a pink and black cut off t-shirt and a pair of black lace thong-style panties.

"How are you feeling?" She asked flatly.

"Better."

She smiled "Good. And where do you think you are going?"

I couldn't think what to say.

"Get back to bed." She advanced on me as she said it, a wicked sparkle in her blue eyes. I started backing towards the bedroom. She caught up with me at the doorway. She gripped the front of the ridiculous t-shirt in both hands and pulled me down to kiss her. It was a rough passionate kiss. As it continued she ran her hands down my front. When she reached the top of the jogging pants she yanked them downwards - they were barely staying up anyway, and they dropped in a heap at my ankles.

Both her hands grasped my rapidly hardening cock and jerked it, as she continued to kiss me. She broke the kiss and spat down on her hands as her motion on my cock grew more rhythmic and intense. She looked back up at my face smiling now.

She stepped forward, still rubbing my cock forcing me back towards the bed. When we reached the bottom of the bed she released her grip on me and lent in so that I lost my balance and tipped on to the bed.

She stood over me looking down at my cock, then lifted her t-shirt over her head, exposing her perfect breasts.

Without a word she crouched between my legs and took my cock in her mouth. She didn't dally. She took long deep mouthfuls of my cock. After a while she stopped and jerked me off with her left hand, while she ran the nails of her right hand up and down my belly.

She clambered onto the bed and straddled me. I thought she was going to mount me, but instead she crouched over me and touched herself with one hand, pulling the gusset of her panties to the side so I could see. Her pussy was as beautiful as the rest of her, dark symmetrical lips, contrasting with the bright pink within. She continued jerking me with her free hand, holding eye contact throughout.

Suddenly she rolled off me and flopped onto her back. She spread her legs wide and continued touching herself. "Fuck me James."

I climbed between her knees and moved my hand down beside hers. She slapped it away. "I want your cock. Right now." She parted her pussy with her fingers and looked up expectantly.

I moved in closer and moved my cock towards her as she continued to touch her pussy. She grabbed it and pulled me towards her. I slid inside the hot wetness of her. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down at where we were joined, then thrust her pelvis hard against me. "Fuck me!" She said it through gritted teeth as she thrust against me again. I started to meet her thrusts with my own. She gasped at a particularly deep stroke "Yes! That's it!" She watched my cock going in and out of her. "That is so hot. Can you hear how wet my pussy is?" I carried on thrusting against her hard counter movements, as her gasps turned to little squeals, to more full throated noises. I could also feel myself rapidly approaching climax. "Fuck Kioko, I'm going to come..."

She stopped moving. "Not yet. I want more." She pushed back so that my cock slid out of her. She rolled onto her side, showing her gorgeous ass to me. "Fuck me like this." She lifted her right leg slightly to give me access. Once I was in she closed her legs. The tightness was incredible. She braced her arms against the headboard. "Now. Hard." I thrust into her pussy as she pushed back, using the bed for leverage. Straight away I felt myself getting close again. "Oh fuck..." She parted her legs slightly, giving me a perfect view of my cock sliding in and out of her wet pink hole. I pulled out and came on her right ass cheek, the thick white come a shocking contrast against her tan skin.

I flopped onto my back behind her. She clambered onto her knees. "Stay there. You still need to make me come."

She pulled herself up and straddled my torso, shifting up until she was hovering over my face. I could smell her pussy. Some of my come dripped off her ass onto my chest. "Eat my pussy." She shifted so she was right on my mouth. I darted my tongue into her, tasting her arousal. As I did so she gripped the headboard with one hand, bringing the other down and rubbing her clit hard. "Good. Like that. Do not stop." I gripped her thighs. She was almost riding my tongue now, making little pistoning movements with her hips, while working her hand hard against her clit. She started to squeal. "Yes... yes... fuck yes." She pulled her hand away from her clit as she came, her head falling forward against the headboard.

After a moment. She climbed down and lay next to me, not touching me at all. She turned her head and looked at me. "That was good."

I smiled with no small measure of pride. "It was good for me too." I wasn't prepared for what came next.

"You hurt my feelings yesterday." My mouth dropped open. She carried on. "I know you think I'm cruel and harsh, but I'm just a normal girl."

Her gaze was unflinching. "I don't get attached. It's not my style. But I like you." She paused for a moment. "I want you."

I still didn't have words. "That's why I've tried to take care of you. And if you want someone else that's fine, I get it. But I don't wait for people." She paused. "Especially when they are fucking up their own lives."

She sighed. "So now you know."

I leaned in to hug her. She folded her arms. "No. You have a decision to make. And what happened tonight had nothing to do with influencing your decision. I just needed it."

She rolled on her side facing away from me. "Go to the bathroom and get me some tissues so I can clean myself up."

I woke during the night. She had turned and was facing me. She was like a picture of someone sleeping, both hands flat under her cheek, her blonde hair tumbling everywhere and the vaguest hint of a smile on her face.

The next morning when I woke she wasn't there. I wandered out of the bedroom and found her in the living space. She had a yoga mat rolled out. She was doing squats. I stood and watched her, enjoying the view.

"Stop staring. Have you never seen a girl working out before?"

I smiled. "Sorry. I couldn't help it."

"I'm nearly done." She did a couple more squats then stopped. She dabbed at her collar bone and neck with a sports towel. "I have clients to see today. After I'm done I want you to take me out."

I smiled at this, but she wasn't done. "You need to decide what you are going to do. I meant it when I said I won't wait forever." She brushed past me "I'm going for a shower then I need to get ready. You should go. Don't do anything stupid today. I'll be free from 8pm. Text me the plan." She closed and locked the bathroom door.

I walked back to Mike's. He was in the kitchen wrestling with a huge pile of dirty dishes. "They should have a thing. Like a launderette. But for dishes."

I smiled. "Maybe that's how you make your fortune."

He laughed. "Maybe... maybe. So, what's the latest. I was worried Kioko might have done away with you. Was vaguely mulling whether I needed to report you as a missing person."

I told him what had happened. "Fuck. She's into you man. I didn't want to kick you when you were down the other night, but you treated her like shit over the Kimberley thing. The fact she came back... That's not to be sniffed at dude."

I nodded. "I know. She's given me an ultimatum. I need to choose."

"And?"

"I've maybe revised my opinion from a couple of days ago."

He smiled. "The right choice my guy. But don't let me influence you. Do the right thing for you. But be nice to that girl no matter what. She went out on a limb when she turned up here. Even though she basically kidnapped you."

I booked a table in a hipstery gastro-pub for later and texted Kioko the time and place. She didn't reply. I was still getting used to the fact that she didn't follow regular social niceties sometimes.

Nonetheless, I was sitting waiting at the assigned time. Kioko walked in. She had evidently come directly from her assignation; she was wearing a long beige raincoat and her thigh high boots beneath.

She settled into the booth across from me.

She looked straight at me and didn't say anything. She was waiting for me to speak.

The best I could manage was "How was your day?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Fabulous. I've spent the last two hours trampling an old man's back and explaining to him why I can't marry him, regardless of how rich he claims to be." She paused. "Do you listen to anything I tell you about myself?"

I gulped "What do you mean?"

"I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. One of the first things I told you is that I don't do small talk. I'd rather sit in silence."

I weighed this. "Why can't you marry him?"

She straightened her back, placed both hands on the table and scowled at me. "I told him I'm saving myself for someone else. Who is keeping me waiting..."

She trailed off. I realised she was looking over my shoulder.

A soft voice came. "James...?"

Kimberley was standing behind me.

Kioko's face was absolutely unreadable. Kimberley eyed her across the table.

"I've been trying to call you since you ran out the other night. I was worried about you. That I had done something wrong." She looked genuinely relieved to see me. "Hi Kioko."

Kioko nodded imperceptibly.

I was trying to work out how Kimberley had found me. Then I realised she was holding her phone in her hand - I had never removed her permissions to view my phone's location.

She was clearly here expecting to pick up from two nights ago.

Kimberley took a breath. "So... can we talk again? Like we did on Sunday..." Kioko's gaze turned on me.

Kimberley definitely clocked this. "Kioko - maybe you could excuse us please."

Kioko looked up at her coldly. "No."

Kimberley sighed. "Fine. Can I sit down at least?"

Kioko kept glaring at her. She made no move to budge up. I shifted to let her into the booth. She turned sideways on the bench so she was facing me full on. She placed her arm on the table, effectively turning her shoulder to Kioko.

Kimberley smiled mildly at me. "What happened on Sunday night? Things were going well... it felt safe... right. I know things got messed up. But we can fix it. Trust me."

She looked at me imploringly. She did the thing that always worked on me where she made her eyes huge.

I was aware of Kioko lurking over her shoulder, her face was calm, but I could see the fury building behind her eyes.

I didn't know what to say.

Kioko cut in. "Kimberley. James and I were enjoying some time together. You weren't invited. You should go."

Kimberley's mouth fell open. She turned and looked at Kioko who stared her down flatly. She turned back to me. "James - she can't talk to me like that. You need to tell her - she's getting in the way of us moving on from our little hiccup."

I looked back and forth. Kimberley staring at me. Kioko glaring at Kimberley. I had no clue what to say

Kimberley carried on. "James, I'm being very reasonable here. But you spending time with this girl isn't right. It's unfair. It's... cheating."

Kioko went to say something. Kimberley saw it coming and didn't even pause for breath. "Come on James. Let's get out of here. Come home with me. Let's start getting back to normal."

I looked at my feet. "I can't."

I could see Kimberley's cool start to go. "Why not?"

"I just..."

Kioko went to speak. Kimberley cut her off. She was raising her voice now. "You stay out of this. It's none of your business." She turned back to me. Her temper had definitely gone. She had gone irrational "What are you fucking playing at? Are you going to flush everything we have away over some girl you've just met?" She turned and looked at Kioko, apparently just taking in what she was wearing. "One who dresses like a cheap stripper?"

I saw the moment the realisation hit Kimberley. "It's her... the girl from the video..."

For a moment she looked like she might lunge at Kioko. She had disgust etched on her face. She turned back to me. She looked genuinely furious "How could you?"

Something snapped inside me. "How could I? How could I? You fucked that asshole Kyle."

Her mouth fell open in horror. Kioko raised her eyebrows. People at surrounding tables were unashamedly watching the drama now.

Kimberley stammered "What are you talking about?"

Everything poured out of me "He dropped his cufflink in the bathroom. I saw it. So he fucked you then ran. And you expected me to come over and take care of you after that?!"

Her face crumpled. She went to speak. Nothing came out. She just shook her head sadly. She started to cry quietly. But she didn't deny it.

Kioko sat forward. "James. We are leaving. Now."

She stood up. I squeezed past Kimberley and followed her.

It was three weeks later. I had stayed at Kioko's every night since. I'd removed Kimberley's permission to view my phone's location. We spoke once. It wasn't said outright, but we both knew. It was over.

I woke up alone in bed. Kioko was standing over me, completely nude. I marvelled again at her beauty. Her flawless tan skin, the perfect geometry of her face, the improbable curves of her body.

She didn't look amused.

"Do you know what time it is? Get up. You really are the laziest man I have ever met." She walked out of the room. I followed her into the living area. She was sitting on the sofa, her legs open wide, her right leg crooked up on the sofa.

I walked over towards her smiling.

She smiled back. "Get down on your knees. I have a job for you."

I couldn't stop smiling as I knelt between her legs and leant forward.