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It was some time ago, on a slow Friday night.
I was enjoying my peaceful-end-of-week Friday evening at home, alone, catching up on my reading.
To date, I could even remember the name of the novel, because of an unfortunate but eventful incident that had happened, later that night.
To digress a little, I was caught up in the (then) new romantic novel by Talia Hibbert - Get a Life, Chloe Brown. In fact, I had since read this novel 2.5X.
If you are interested, here's a link to a brief synopsis/reviews of the novel - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43884209-get-a-life-chloe-brown
I remember it was close to midnight. I was already a third through the novel. A string of consecutive WhatsApp messages vibrated my phone intensely. It was my new boss. She was (then) recently internationally assigned to her new role in Singapore.
She said she was feeling lonely in Singapore, being relatively new to this island. I asked her why didn't she go out and have some drinks, and mingle around with her expatriate community friends at Clarke Quay or wherever they were. She said she didn't feel like "yolking" with them that night.
She asked if I could go over her place, join her for the supper that she had ordered from Grab Food. She said she needed help and good company to finish the array of items she had already ordered.
Feeling a bit hungry, I thought why not. She gave me her address, I set my gps on Google, and "vroom, vroom". I was over at her place in no time.
Even now, in recollection, I am not sure whether it was the thought of supper, or my evil lecherous thought of expecting an immoral liaison, that made me "vroom vroom" to her place, in much haste and excitement.
By the time I arrived, the Grab food delivery had also been delivered. She opened a bottle of red. We ate, drank and chatted about work, office, personal stuff and our future career plans.
We finished another 2xbottles of red, and by then, it was already almost 3am in the morning. I said I should be off. She said I had drank a lot and shouldn't be driving.
Ok, I told her I would order a Comfort Taxi and leave my car at her place. She said don't bother. Just stay over for the night, she added.
I thought about it, with some apprehension of possible consequences. However, with an alcohol infused courage, I was confident that there was nothing to be afraid of. I am a man anyway, so I thought. Also, I was really feeling tipsy, and in the interest of safety, I accepted her invitation.
She said I would have to sleep in her spare bedroom. She also kindly provided me with fresh pillow, sheet and quilt. And not long after our last glass of red, I said good night to her, went to the spare room, and dozed off.
I woke up at 9 plus the next morning. I was dizzy. There was sort of a hangover feeling as I ain't a good drinker, unlike most men.
I started recalling some bits and pieces of "broken" events during my sleep. I remembered someone kissed my forehead and then my lips. That someone also snuggled and cuddled with me on the bed.
Instinctively, I lifted the quilt to see if my BC was 'tainted' or had any "non-belonging smell'.
My hands went inside my boxers and reached for my BC. My thumb and index fingers did a quick "Self-Squeeze-Swab ART" test, on the tip of my BC.
Phew!
It smelled normal. No "foreign" intervention.
Was there someone in the room with me last night?
Or was it a dream?
[To Be Continued...]
I was enjoying my peaceful-end-of-week Friday evening at home, alone, catching up on my reading.
To date, I could even remember the name of the novel, because of an unfortunate but eventful incident that had happened, later that night.
To digress a little, I was caught up in the (then) new romantic novel by Talia Hibbert - Get a Life, Chloe Brown. In fact, I had since read this novel 2.5X.
If you are interested, here's a link to a brief synopsis/reviews of the novel - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43884209-get-a-life-chloe-brown
I remember it was close to midnight. I was already a third through the novel. A string of consecutive WhatsApp messages vibrated my phone intensely. It was my new boss. She was (then) recently internationally assigned to her new role in Singapore.
She said she was feeling lonely in Singapore, being relatively new to this island. I asked her why didn't she go out and have some drinks, and mingle around with her expatriate community friends at Clarke Quay or wherever they were. She said she didn't feel like "yolking" with them that night.
She asked if I could go over her place, join her for the supper that she had ordered from Grab Food. She said she needed help and good company to finish the array of items she had already ordered.
Feeling a bit hungry, I thought why not. She gave me her address, I set my gps on Google, and "vroom, vroom". I was over at her place in no time.
Even now, in recollection, I am not sure whether it was the thought of supper, or my evil lecherous thought of expecting an immoral liaison, that made me "vroom vroom" to her place, in much haste and excitement.
By the time I arrived, the Grab food delivery had also been delivered. She opened a bottle of red. We ate, drank and chatted about work, office, personal stuff and our future career plans.
We finished another 2xbottles of red, and by then, it was already almost 3am in the morning. I said I should be off. She said I had drank a lot and shouldn't be driving.
Ok, I told her I would order a Comfort Taxi and leave my car at her place. She said don't bother. Just stay over for the night, she added.
I thought about it, with some apprehension of possible consequences. However, with an alcohol infused courage, I was confident that there was nothing to be afraid of. I am a man anyway, so I thought. Also, I was really feeling tipsy, and in the interest of safety, I accepted her invitation.
She said I would have to sleep in her spare bedroom. She also kindly provided me with fresh pillow, sheet and quilt. And not long after our last glass of red, I said good night to her, went to the spare room, and dozed off.
I woke up at 9 plus the next morning. I was dizzy. There was sort of a hangover feeling as I ain't a good drinker, unlike most men.
I started recalling some bits and pieces of "broken" events during my sleep. I remembered someone kissed my forehead and then my lips. That someone also snuggled and cuddled with me on the bed.
Instinctively, I lifted the quilt to see if my BC was 'tainted' or had any "non-belonging smell'.
My hands went inside my boxers and reached for my BC. My thumb and index fingers did a quick "Self-Squeeze-Swab ART" test, on the tip of my BC.
Phew!
It smelled normal. No "foreign" intervention.
Was there someone in the room with me last night?
Or was it a dream?
[To Be Continued...]
