The Writers' Circle

THE MISOGYNIST

Walking into the Clubhouse, he went straight to the bar. As the Club golf pro, he was a popular character with all the male members, always full of fun and telling jokes at other people's expense. He was one of those guys's who had an answer for everything. You know the type. At his best, charming, enthusiastic, playful, well groomed and confident with an over abundance of good looks. At his worst, sarcastic, greedy, resentful and desperate for admiration.  The trouble with Malcolm was he was a misogynist. He loved himself, and thought women had been put on earth for one thing and one thing only.    It didn't matter whether they were married or single, he would ply his charm all the same until they eventually gave in.  No woman was safe from his attentions.
	The barman spotted him.  'The usual, sir?'
Malcolm nodded as he glanced around the crowded lounge his gaze coming to rest on a young blond female sitting by her self showing a great deal of leg.  His eyes lit up letting them come to rest on her revealing thighs.
'Yes, Freddie. and have one yourself.' he said unable to take his eyes off her.  He went and sat down in the leather Chesterfield next to the fireplace waiting for his drink. 
          'Here you are, sir.' The barman placed his drink next to him. 'By the way, sir, that young lady over there has paid for your drink.'
His eyebrows rose with interest. 'Really! Who is she, Freddy?' 
          The barman gave a non committal shrug of his shoulders but at the same time giving him a guarded knowing wink.  'I don't know, sir, but what a looker.'
          As he sipped his drink, he saw her smiling at him. Raising his glass in acknowledgement, he gave her one of his practised honeyed smiles.   He couldn't believe his luck as she got to her feet in one graceful movement and walked over to him.  She was beautiful and youthful, just how he liked his women.  She was wearing a skintight black dress with a high neck, long sleeves and it showed off every inch of her perfect figure. Her makeup was faultless, as was her face, and her long slender legs, exposed by the short skirt, were even better.  Her silvery blonde hair was pulled straight back into an elegant bun and she not only looked incredibly sexy, but also sophisticated.
          She gave him an alluring smile. 'May I join you?' As she sat down, he caught a glimpse of her lacy underwear as she crossed her legs. 
'I'm sorry, I'm being rude.' Holding out a beautiful manicured hand, she touched his knee. 'I'm, Sara.'    
       Her confidence and boldness left him almostspeechless.      
       He felt a lump in his throat.   'I'm..
       Before he could finish, she interrupted him. 'Yes. I know.  Malcolm, isn't. it?'   She smiled at him sweetly.  'I understand you're the person to see if one want's lessons?'
       The insinuation in her voice started a slow burn of excitement in his stomach. 'Yes.yes, that's right.'
         'Good.' She clapped her hands gleefully. 'Does that mean you will teach me how to play?'
         Over the next few days, he cancelled all his other appointments giving all his attention to teaching Sara how to play golf. She was a quick learner.  On the final lesson on the 19th hole, he had an opportunity to hold her in his arms steadying her swing. He felt her trembling. Her body pressed against his seemed to melt into one. There had been lots of women in his life, but some how she was different.  
         'Oh, my God, Sara, you don't know what you do to me.'  
         Their lips met, as he pressed hard against her. She didn't object. She wanted him. 'No.No. I'm sorry,' she said hoarsely pulling away. 'Not here.'
          He wanted to take her there and then. He wasn't used to being refused. 'Maybe, we could meet tonight' he said hopefully.
          She gave him an inviting smile. 'That would be nice. Why not come to my place, I could make us something to eat.'
          That night he took extra care with his appearance. He was impatient to see her again and arrived at her flat on time. The anticipation tightened in his stomach like a knot.
          She met him at the door in her bathrobe, her hair still wet hung down her back, her face void of any make up. 
         To him she looked even more beautiful. He liked the clean and natural look.
         'Wow!' You look fantastic.'
         She pulled him inside closing the door.  He kissed her passionately feeling the firm curves of her body beneath the robe.  This was definitely worth waiting for. He slipped a hand inside the dressing gown. My God she's naked. He felt his heart race; the drumming in his ears gave him a light headedness
           She giggled between kisses.  'I hope you're hungry were having chicken.'
'I'm starving.' The glint in his eye told her he wasn't referring to dinner.
'What do you prefer?' she said taking off his jacket putting her forefinger teasingly in his mouth.
            'Umm. Breast. Or there again maybe leg.' he said playfully.

 Over dinner, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He didn't even want to talk; he just wanted to devour her.   He could even see himself giving up his life of pleasure seeking for such a woman. After dinner, she went into the bedroom to change into something special she had for him. His impatience was getting to him. He opened the bedroom door.  'Jesus!' he cried out his eyes nearly popping out of his head. 
          She was wearing a red Basque with a pair of black lacy stockings and a pair of high-heeled black sandals. Her silvery blond hair was tied up in a ponytail. He could smell her perfume. She undressed him. Minutes later they were making love in the soft lights of the bedroom. He was like a hungry animal totally enraptured with her. An hour later, they lay spent and happy, and she started to drift off to sleep. She felt him move and get up off the bed.
            'Where are you going?' she asked rolling over opening her sleepy eyes to look at him as he sat on the side of the bed.
          He picked up the framed picture of a handsome young man in Army uniform taking centre place on the bedside table. 'Who's this? He asked. The anticipation pulling at his features making him look petulant as a glimmer of jealousy struck home.
         She smiled at his insecurity pouting her lips sexily. 'Come back to bed, Malcolm, the night is still young. You don't have to worry about him. It's just a photograph of me before I had the operation.'

THE END