No Pain No Nescafe!

I'm lying on the floor in the middle of our living room. The TV screen is vibrantly alive showing a woman in a similar position. Her voice is of an octave pitch.

"And squeeze and squeeze"
There is a momentary pause. "And squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!"

My thoughts are if I squeezed any harder the coil in the instrument between my thighs would recoil violently and spending the rest of my evening in the Accident&Emergency Unit with a dislocated vagina was far from appealing!

The idea was to strengthen the inner thighs making them toned. It was not suppose to be a painful ordeal. Which part of "no pain no gain" was I not understanding?

"Now onto our next exercise.... working those gluteus maximus"

She is too good looking for my liking. She looked like the typical french woman who was slim but thinks she is fat. While I was the typical British woman who was slightly plump but is convinced that I'm slim!

I follow obediently. I raise my pelvis and squeeze my bottom as hard as I can as instructed.

12 more.. 11... 10.... My right hand reaches down and touches the right bum cheek. I have to confess I like the feel of firmness. It motivates me to keep going before my derriere flops back onto the floor in an excruciating heap. My bum cheeks feels like they are on fire. Which part of "no pain no gain" was I not understanding?

It is a Friday evening and I had the whole flat to myself. Stanley had gone out for his usual religious drinks with the boys. After a hectic week the last thing I wanted was to be in company.

I was looking forward to a night-in on my own. And use the exercise DVD bought from last Christmas followed by a nice soak in the bath and read my book -"Secret Habits of Successful Bastards: the Self-Help book for people who are too Nice"

It was recommended by one of my fellow Coffee Club members. Fred. Ah yes Fred! My mind drifts to gorgeous Fred. He is not quite the Anthony Stewart Head but beggars can't be choosers!

The door bells rings. I lie there reluctant to move. I was not expecting anyone and I was finishing off my workout with meditation. Empty your mind...... I picture myself walking down the Catwalk and everyone is cheering me. Miss Derriere 2009! Concentrate! Empty your mind.

The door bell rings again beckoning for attention.

"Oh blast" I retorted. A trifle annoyed I grab my oversized tee-shirt and it slithers over my body effortlessly. Compliments of Henry. In fact, most of my tee-shirts were from "borrowed and not returned" Ex's.

I open the door. "Hello?"

"Oh Sorry to bother you but I'm having a dinner party and I seem to have run out of coffee."

It was our neighbour from the flat below. He had moved in about a month ago.

Wasn't this the part that he (I) invites her ( him) in?

It's been some time since I've seen the Nescafe Gold Blend advert. There was something very wrong about this one. I'm sure I remembered he was tall, smooth and sexy looking. But here stood a short, bald, fat man bearing a smile like a hyena.

I blurt out "No, Sorry I dont' drink coffee!" and quickly close the door.

I stand for a minute, not quite sure what to make of the obtrusion. I shake my head as I walk towards the DVD player. I take out the DVD and place it into it's case.

It was a good workout. And I was pleased with myself.

The door bell rings again! This time I am more than a trifle annoyed.
Which part of "no" did he not understand!
I swing open the door expecting to see my neighbour again, instead.

"Boris!" I exclaim.

"You fancy a coffee?" in his usual seductive deep voice. He moves swiftly and the next thing I know I feel his hands on my hips. I gasp with surprise and before I could even object his warm lips envelopes mine. His leg eases the door closed behind him. I give a muffled "No".
Was this the part when a woman says "No" when she really means "Yes"!?

Copyright@2009 Sandra Fox

Beauty is just a perception

.
.
I roll over and inch my way deeper into the crevices of my quilt. The smooth silky cover touching the warmth of my skin. It's Saturday morning, 8am, and not even an earthquake of any Richter scale was going to propel me out of my new bed!

It has been two weeks since my fiasco with the delivery of the new bed. The result was they had to return the King bed and I had to re-order a Queen size instead, because it was simply too big to get through our narrow hallway. The delivery men were not too impressed,of course, after the amount of perspiration they had to go through trying to get it in and then being instructed to take it away.

I wasn't too impressed either from the damage done to my bank balance. Especially when I had my eye on a lovely slicky number in Ann Summers. They had a special offer for the King at the time. My objections to the Shop Manager that I had to pay £100 more for a size that was much smaller was snuffed. I did think of threatening him with my friend is an assassin by profession but thought wiser of it.

"Your June article is good!" Stanley walks in. He places a cup of black coffee beside my bed. He does that every morning without fail!

"Have you ever thought of writing abook ,Sandra babes, about all the mischief you get up to in the evenings!" he continues to ramble on. "I'm sure it will be a best seller!"

There is a muffled noise coming from under the quilt. My left hand makes an appearance stretches to the ceiling and waves bye bye. Stanley walks out and goes into his usual morning routine of playing Tom Jones CD and showering.

"You're my sex bomb...sex bomb... you're my seeeeex bomb..."

My darling Stanley, how we met will frature you, a story for another day!"

For now all you need to know is we have a symbiosis existence. On occasions we share the same bed. I'll let you use your imagination!

I tell myself another 5 minutes and I'll get up.... the voice of Tom Jones drifts into oblivion.

"COSMOTIMES" - June Issue

"Beauty is just a perception" by Sandra Fox

Every summer, most of us focus our efforts on trying to lose pounds so that we can fit and look good in that bikini.

This summer why not ditch the scales and pursue mental leanness as oppose to physical perfection.............


Copyright@2009 by Sandra Fox

Hit me baby one more time

.
.
"Hit me baby one more time…" I sing quietly under my breath and sway my head in rhythm.
"Oh baby baby ... baby hey hey yeah oh baby baby"

The man next to me creases his forehead in disapproval.

We come to a halt at Green Park tube station.
I give him a smile and a wink as I quickly just off onto the platform.
He looked like the type of guy who would wear the same underwear for more than a day and a coffee drinker … perhaps?

Today's journey is no different from any other mornings.

After 3 years I've gotten immune from the stress of travelling on the London Underground
London tubes are packed with pencil pushers in the rush hour. Packed like sardines inside, it is hell between stops as you find your face buried under armpits(at my height!), some that have not been washed for days!

It is a 10 minute walk for me to the office and is never without a detour to Starbucks for my second dose of caffeine of the day.

I don’t eat breakfast like they say you should. Who wants to live a boring existence ... right?
Eat a healthy breakfast and exercise daily. Are you kidding me? Where would be the fun in that!

It's ironic to say that I am a writer for the “CosmoTimes”, a magazine aimed at the young, concerned with health and beauty with a high disposable income.

It is deadline day today but I have no reason to panic as the past month or so of insomnia and drinking coffee were time well spent in completing my next article for the June edition.

As I enter the office I head straight for the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

"Hey who's nicked my Chippendale cup?"

"Have you finished your write-up yet?" Tom enquires. Bearing a big grin that nearly cuts his face in half. He obviously was gloating over the fact that he's finished his.

I ask myself, how did that answer my question?

"Sure thing!" I answer back. “You’ve seen my cup? Ah here it is…”

"I've started drinking Chai Tea, it's very good for you apparently..."

I ignore him while he talks in the background and I make my black coffee.

"Sounds nice Tom... gotta scoot!"

Chai Tea! Yuk!

Tom is a darling who was willing to do any favours that I've asked of him in the past.
But I never really had the time and patience for him.
He was the type of person who wouldn't hurt a fly, who will wear pyjamas to bed and remember to clean behind his ears every night and he loves tea!

I settle behind my computer. Sip. I have 22 unread emails. I take at look at the time 9:10am. Groan.
Sip. My thoughts drift to the evening.

Thursday evenings were always a busy time for me.

At 6pm I had the Coffee Club Meet-up followed by my part-time evening job at
"The Directors Only" Club.

There are only a handful of people who know about my night job, Stanley and the girls at the Club.


I am a pole dancer three evenings a week.
5'4 tall, 5'7 with heels on a good day. Curvy voluptuous upper asset(100% gelatin-free I hasten to add), I have my mother to thank for that.
And to keep my identity anonymous at the Club, I have long blonde hair (dyed) and blue eyes (isn't coloured contact lens great!) I had every reason to feel confident.

But sometimes my confidence would wither by the end of the day.

That's where the Coffee Club helped. The Coffee Club Meet-ups gave me a sense of empowerment afterwards and it boosted my confidence level before going onto the night job.

2:10pm. I'm into my fifth cup of coffee of the day. My mobile rings, I answer. It is my flatmate, Stanley.

"Sandra baby, your new bed has arrived.....but they're having trouble getting it pass the hallway into your bedroom... it's too big!"

I can hear the music blaring out in the background... "Hit me baby one more time"

Copyright@2009 by Sandra Fox