Sunny
The private lift door slide away
Framing a silken apparition
Obviously wearing nothing underneath
The erect nipples
Punctuating my visual journey
To her succulent lips
With a shock of short cropped absolutely white hair
Biting her bottom lip
With a melting glance
Before erupting into an avalanche of effusive introductions
taking me by the hand
As we bumped
One to another
Pin balled to the penthouse terrace
overlooking the Thames
It was drinks?
I had meet Sunny before
So the low key nature of drinks for over a hundred people
Was to be expected!
Sunny
A handsome, middle aged, British women
With pleading eyes
Having lived in South Africa
For most of her mature life
Steaming through four marriages
To a series of wealthy, South African industrialists
Accumulating personal wealth
like moss on a rock on the way
the current husband
a wealthy toy manufacturer of Bendy Toys
Drove us to their weekender from London
In his gold Rolls Royce
An arrogant, pretentious prick
A born manipulator
Gossip, having it that he took the patent for the Bendy Toys from the inventor
Leaving him penniless
While going on to make an internationally successful business
He was worth a mint!
It took only one car trip
Listening
Yes Judging
Condemning
I know! I know!
As the Rolls crackled up the marble chip drive
Sliding to a stop at the front door of the 16 bedroom weekender
The door swung open
The Doric columns like sentinels either side
Framing the radiance
That is Sunny
wrapping around me
warm
in a mist of perfume
stamping red lip seals
as we each unfolded from the Rolls
sweeping us into a white on white interior
of opulent simplicity
right down to the B&O stereo
the co-ordinated hostess wore
of course
all white
skin tight slacks
defining every undulation
every curve
tanned to perfection
a rippling cleavage
constrained within the gossamer thin
loose
chiffon
white top
wafting
perfume currents
trail blazed the gathered multitudes
pulling me deeper into her world
as Sunny
Flowed through to the garden terrace
Beautifully green
in a cool designer contrast
greeted with drinks served by the help
The Bush Babies
Where on display
The convict colonials
Captivated
Intrigued
Dazzled
Drawn into the hole of
Extreme wealth
Empty and bottomless!
But for the glow of Sunny
Leading the initiates by the hand
My green T shirt
Almost part of the colour scheme
With a melting white gelato
Running down the cone
Sunny’s
Head turned
Looking askance
over her shoulder
Nailing me with her green eyes
Ran her tongue
In a slow, sensuous slide along her lips
Saying nothing
She did not have to!
I was gone!
The perfume
permeating my skin
into the essence of my very being
total intoxication
only on the drive back
did the haze lift
but not the ache
of the hangover
in silence
running my own mind games
conversations
How?
How can she?
BE!
With this prick
Just for money?
At what cost?
With a deep sadness in her eyes
momentary flashes
of deep insecurity
in the intolerable silences
between words
before convulsing
kick starting
into the usual frenetic exuberance
About everything or nothing in particular
Fencing with the devils
The sadness deepened
Her eyes furtively
Everywhere
Her smile
With a radiant half life
Sadly
Fading
Then the surprise invitation?
Like a reluctant puppy
I went to drinks at the penthouse
The private lift door opening
the apparition appeared again
gliding me into yet
another world
Illuminated by Sunny
Weaving through the flotsam and jetsam
Swimming against the rip
Finally giving up
in fatigue
in frustration
escaping into the lift
Taken
Spat out into the street
I walked alone
In the depths of emptiness
The emptiness
Of affluence
Of privilege
even the morbid
muddy Thames
dancing reflected lights
there is beauty in all things
Reflective
musing on the abuse of wealth and privilege
Populated
By shallow
Untalented people
Who
Are obviously successful
Reflective
Of my own
Sarcastic, judgemental
Hypocrisy