The Polish Experience by Nicholas Westerby - HTML preview

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Chapter 3

The train up was a dream. She closed her eyes and drifted off into some Polish rock heaven with her earphones on. I don’t know what the bands were so angry about but I have never seen anyone so tranquil with that stuff blasting away at their ears.

I took the chance to look over my stats. Preparing myself to argue my case. Did I need to though? Well my rationale was that the boss wouldn’t have invited me up if he needed me to sell myself. I planned my future, not work wise but with this exquisite creature that sat across from me.

I had to keep reminding myself that she was costing me two grand for the weekend or three units as Portlund Services billed it on my bank account. They thought I should be pleased as it was considered a discount rate for three nights work. I won’t list what I could expect to pay extra for if I had been so inclined but that wasn’t why I’d hired her.

It didn’t stop me thinking and by the time we arrived at the Courtly Lodge it was pushing 9pm. I asked if she was hungry but she said she wasn’t. I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t famished. If she turned sideways you lost her, well all except her breasts. Some people would screw their face up at that and talk about real women having curves, some do, some don’t and some have them added. I don’t judge.

I ordered a chicken burger with fries and sat her down to run her through the weekend. We were going to meet Mr. Minkins and his wife for brunch tomorrow at 11 am. I tried to remember if I’d said anything else in the office about Cathy come Kasia or if anyone had met her. The girl I’d hired was calling herself Katarina but I doubted that was her real name and she had no problem calling herself Kasia but said that it was stupid to call her Cathy. I agreed and we laughed. She said that Cathy sounded stupid but got quite upset when I told her about Cathy coming back to ask about the wedding.

“You should have gone with her.” She said sternly.

“Why?” I asked with a chuckle.

We were interrupted by the arrival of my burger. I offered her some but she said she wanted to take a bath. So she did. I ate and flipped through the channels until I caught a documentary about the rivalry in F1 that year.

“I love this.” She said emerging from the bathroom in the skimpiest towel possible. I think it was meant for drying your face.

“You like F1?” I almost choked on my beer.

“I love it.” She said stealing my beer and nestling her back against my chest as she slid between my legs. “Kubica is great isn’t he?”

I should have known. There was a Polish driver.

“He is ok I guess. If he raced for a proper team he would have a chance at winning.” I commandeered my beer.

“I’ll wrestle you for it.” She said playfully.

I nodded and put the beer on the bedside drawer. She pounced on me as I did it and as we rolled around laughing she lost her wash cloth and I was even happier than I had been before.

She wasn’t as ghostly white as Cathy, obviously living in England this was a sun bed job but I didn’t mind. She was darker on her joints but in the main she had toffee-esque hue to her slim, toned physic. She had tiny nipples that perched on her breasts. She was tall, taller than me and her legs that seemed endless merged into a torso that just went on. All of her features were long. Her hands were thin and fingers long. Cathy had a stubbiness to her digits that was very disconcerting. Almost builderish hands. My new Kasia was fragile in comparison.

The thing I loved the most though was the long black hair. I preferred women with long hair and it was a wonderful indication of their character as well. You could see who was stylish and not because they had bought the shoes or pants the star was wearing in Hello. You could see if she was healthy, just like checking a dog’s coat.

As I stopped and wondered at her she didn’t flinch, she didn’t stop and wonder at me. She caught me flush in the balls with a finishing manoeuvre The Undertaker would have been proud of.

As I crumpled, she finished off the beer.

“Do you need me to kiss them better?” She asked as I lay stricken on the floor.

“I’ll just air them off in the shower.” I said barely audibly.

“I love kissing the eggs. Let me take care of them.”

She led me into the bathroom, helped me undress and proceeded to nurse my boys back to health.

“Did you call them eggs?” I asked.

“I love the jaja.” She muffled.

“Ok.” I replied.

The water streamed down me and I tried to freshen my upper half a bit while she was enjoying herself down below. I guess some of the soap ran off onto her.

She looked as if it had gotten in her eyes so I tried to bend down to comfort her but being in a shower, as I crouched down there wasn’t the room and my arse bounced off the wall sending us both sprawling onto the floor.

I lay on top of her for the first time naked, happy and she was squinting away the soap in her eye. I realised that I was probably squashing the life out of the poor thing and thrust myself up. I turned off the shower and helped her up.

We dried off in the bedroom and she kept initiating things. For the first time in my life I was overwhelmed with how beautiful she was and normally in these situations I was drunk. I never thought about my performance but here I was with a hired lady desperate to get it on and I was worrying about how I’d do.

It was probably the last position I should have worried about her satisfaction, I wasn’t normally. I’d try to do a good job but only if she might spread my fame to her friends or others. This was always worth the effort. Sometimes me and the boys might ‘share’ a lady, not all the same night or anything but in that situation you were motivated to do better. In the normal domain of the one night stand though there was no motivation to go above and beyond unless you were having a good time.

A bag a tricks needs dusting off occasionally for posterity’s sake.

The next morning I was up at 6 am as usual and went for a walk around the gardens. They were nice and peaceful, only the staff hurrying around to organize breakfast for all the guests when they woke up. I found a paper and returned to my room to read it. Kasia remained in bed until 10 am but I guess she never needed to be up early in her line of work. I had read the paper by then, had breakfast and returned in time to see her get up and head for another shower.

I had told her before I booked her that she needed a demure dress for meeting my boss and a party dress for a possible evening engagement, if it was required.

She looked even better dressed up than she had done naked ,if it was possible. A simple yet elegant floral dress and open toed red shoes with a purse or mini-handbag to match. I later learnt that such an item is called a clutch. I always thought a clutch was in a car. Maybe this misunderstanding was why women are such hopeless drivers and men so hopeless at buying women gifts.

We shimmied off to our meeting with the Minkins practically dancing down the hall. I was beginning to be less nervous about meeting my boss to discuss the rest of my life and more nervous about having fun with this happy and charming woman.

Mrs. Minkins was powdering her nose when we were sat down but Mr. Minkins interrupted some soup dish to greet us. He stood up and gave my date a big hug then shook my hand.

“My God boy I didn’t believe it but I do now.”

“Believe what?” I asked him.

“Some people told me that you were the best sales guy that we had and I didn’t believe it.”

“But after checking my figures you changed your mind.” I said proudly.

“Fuck-get your figures boy.” He said laughing to himself. “If you can convince this,” He looked Kasia up and down, “to date you then you might be the best fucking salesman I’ve ever had.”

“We’ve ever had.” Mrs. Minkins returned just in time to remind him. It was her money and his ideas. Her family were rich and he resented that. That’s what the gossips said anyway. “Glad to finally meet you James and this must be...”

“Kasia.” I said.

“Let the darling speak for herself.” Mrs. Minkins replied.

“Well we have the job for you, we sure do.” Mr. Minkins said excitedly. They weren’t even offering us any refreshments. I was surprised. “We have planned a service centre in Poland but there has been a few hitches.”

“You had planned?” I enquired.

“We have been planning, we are doing, it will open.” He continued.

Note to self: ignore your boss’s grammar mistakes, decipher his message and shut the fuck up.

“Taking advantage of the EU grants no doubt.” I said hoping to impress them with my business acumen.

“Something like that.” Mrs. Minkins added, taking a long slurp of what appeared to be a Long Island Iced Tea.

“Well a couple of hiccups mean that we need a temporary manager over there and am sure your girlfriend would enjoy six months in Warsaw. So what do you say?” He asked.

I was shocked. Firstly she wasn’t my girlfriend and I quickly assumed that’s why she was needed, that’s why I was given this shot as he didn’t seem to give a damn about my stats.

What the fuck did I care?

It was a manager’s job.

A country manager’s job!

Wait did he say service centre?

“Did you say service centre?” I queried.

“I did. Congratulations.” He said shaking my hand.

“That’s great news honey.” Kasia said hugging me. “Thank you so much.” She now turned her attentions to the old man and then his wife.

Minkins made some signal and champagne was brought over followed by lunch.

Through it all Kasia or Katarina or whatever her real name was cooed and generally entertained the Minkins as I sat shocked.

I was going to Warsaw.

To run a fucking service centre.

My fears were partially allayed though as before he left Minkins let me know I was getting everything paid for and a monthly salary of £4k. He said over there I’d live like a king.

I asked about Kasia and he said I could take her as an assistant or some bullshit for £2k a month. If he only knew.

We laughed. I thanked him and returned to Kasia. I was dumbstruck.

Could I just turn it down on Monday?

Would Warsaw be that bad?

Winter was coming and I imagined Poland would be cold in the summer and freezing in the winter.

“This is why you needed Polish girl.” She said laughing at me.

“I guess so.” I answered.

“I can come with you if you are scared.” She said patting my knee.

“I’d love that but I can’t afford you.” I said honestly.

“I’d love to go back but...” She trailed off and just stared out of the window.

We both did.

A squirrel chased among the trees and by the time it got dark I drunkenly suggested that we returned to our room.

We did and we didn’t wake up until it was time for check out the following day.