'Everything that is done in the world is done by hope'   Martin Luther

I've written numerous short stories.  Here's one that I hope you'll enjoy!

A Perfect Roommate - © Emmy Culley

Giselle was absolutely stunning.  I'd even say that the woman standing in the doorway of my apartment was the most beautiful I'd ever seen. Blushing with the sudden realisation that I'd been standing in front of my prospective new tenant gawking like an over amorous school kid, I simply bowed my head and quietly moved aside, holding the door open as she brushed softly past me.

Elisa, my agent followed closely behind and was in a tremendous hurry as usual.  She wasted no time and immediately began to explain the history of satisfied past tenants, basic house rules and reasonable rent on such a sought after property.  I always like this confident, competent business woman to act on my behalf and Giselle seemed satisfied with the arrangement.

I followed the amusingly animated pair around each exquisitely furnished room, feeling rather flattered to hear the admiring comments about my treasured antiques collected over two decades.  Giselle had wonderful taste as well as looks to die for.  Her appearance was the absolute opposite to Elisa's who had the air of a governess.  Her short, dark well-maintained chin-length bob, half rimmed glasses and grey flannel suit made her look dumpy and plain when standing next to this elegant beauty.  In almost total contrast to her guide, Giselle was Amazon like, standing almost six feet tall in her low heeled autumn boots and wrapped in a delightful angora swing coat.  The peachy coat complimented her olive skin and long, wavy blonde hair that flowed fluidly down, past her small waist.  I found myself staring again and smiled coyly.

Giselle didn't seem to mind me admiring her curves and she had the air of a princess.  The more I learned about Giselle, the more confident I became that she and I would get on famously.  We even shared the same career in acting, but I'd long since retired and must admit, felt a little out of touch in the theatrical circle these days.  Rather childishly I had my fingers crossed behind my back and couldn't wait to find out whether we were to share my beautiful home.

Giselle looked my way a few times.  Once when we in the larger bathroom, my favourite with the circular, sunken bath, she swirled around in delight at the sight of the Grecian style decor.  Then, she stood quite still and stared at me, lifting a cotton gloved hand to the side of her face.  Did I detect a quizzicle smile?  Once again, I blushed and led the two women out into the long hallway, down to my very kitsch kitchen.  The grubby  smear on the small, circular window above the Aga took my attention and I left the ladies to go through final details together and retired to my bedroom, the largest of the four.  As I closed the heavy oak door behind me and padded softly across the soft, white carpet towards my comfortable bed, I began to wonder what this wonderful woman would think of me.  Time would tell.

I must have drifted off into a deep sleep and was rudely awoken by the sound of wheelie bins being dragged along our gravel courtyard.  My apartment was originally the top floor of a Georgian Manor House, which had conveniently been split to accomodate four exclusive luxury apartments.  I had been incredibly fortunate to have acquired mine as a gift from an extravagent and overly generous lover in the short-lived days of my success and brief fame as an accomplished leading lady.  Then, the name Charlotte Cherise was on the lips of every cinema goer.  Those were the days!  Sadly, reminiscing was the closest I came to an exciting love life since I'd chosen to become a recluse... I've always loathed that term, but have to admit that it describes my choice of existence, for the time being at least.

A few days passed by without much happening, which was nothing unusual.  I wandered around my wonderful, but lonely home listening to the stillness.  Reading was the pastime I enjoyed most, but occasionally I leafed through my photo albums and lost myself within the framed images of pleasing memories.  No children featured amongst the array of colourful characters, as my lifestyle never allowed room for offspring.  I'd taken many lovers and there were a rare few whom I allowed to take me.  They always loved my sense of humour and happy go lucky attitude to love and life.  Fickle I was not, although I'd move swiftly on if a relationship became sour or stale, but I always managed to remain friends with my ex lovers.  I decided at a young age to remain unmarried and that suited me.  My wealthy parents had no qualms about my lifestyle or choices; my kid brother fathered more offspring than my dear, chaste mother could ever have wished for.  The Buckland name would most likely survive through another few decades at worst.

The doorbell sounded its harsh trill and brought my senses rudely to attention.  I called down the long corridoor and stepped over to the ornate oval mirror that I'd found in an auction room in Vienna.  My face looked drawn, but I still looked young for a forty two year old.  I wondered why I even bothered looking at my reflection these days, I had no intention of opening the door.  Besides, if the beautiful Giselle decided to become my newest tenant, then Eliza would soon sort her out with a contract, spare key and whatever else she deemed fit to offer.  A sudden curiosity took over and I decided to take a peek through the tiny spyhole that my trusty cleaner had arranged to be added to my heavy oak front door for extra security.  Both she and a past few residents had reported strange sounds and unexplained footsteps around my apartment, although I've never heard anything.  A large box had been propped against the wall and I wondered who on earth could have left it.  I wasn't expecting any delivery, in fact I never received any mail at this address.  My agent always insisted that I had a PO box, so the item was a complete mystery to me.  Then I saw her and felt the blood rush to my face as she approached my door.

I could hear Giselle's muffled sighs as she approached the box.  With my back pressed firmly against the cool plaster wall, I froze where I stood, wondering whether I'd have time to make it to the sitting room before Giselle opened the door.  My stomach turned a somersault when I heard her key turn in the latch.  To my surprise, she paused when she entered the hallway and took a long, deep breath.  Tilting her pretty head to one side she said, 'Well, Charlie, you made a beautiful home and I am very happy to be the lucky one to help make it feel warm again.  I hope you don't mind me shortening your name, by the way!  I've heard that you were a bit of a diva in your time.'

I breathed a sigh of relief and followed my new companion into the kitchen where she took the twelve white roses out of their box and chatted away about her beau who adored her, but was sadly not the man for her.  As always, I listened and passed no comment or opinion on the matter, but felt good that Giselle felt at ease in my presence.  My instinct told me that Giselle and I were going to become very close and I liked the familiar and confident way she spoke to me... It felt as though I'd known this sassy young actress before, although I couldn't recall how... Time would no doubt tell.

The first night I met Adrian was the twelfth of December 1999 and our home smelled delicious with delightfully festive seasonal scents of pot pourri, nutmeg, cinnamon, pine and burning sandalwood that I liked to throw on our open fire.  I stood rather protectively at Giselle's side as her handsome lover entered our home.  My dislike didn't surface at first, but after a few drinks I tired of his smooth talk and decided to give the lovers some space.  Luckily they didn't even notice me leave.

After a few hours of light slumber, I heard the sound of voices approaching my bedroom and was rather shocked to see two semi clad figures kissing passionately in my doorway.  Sitting up in my bed, I pulled the peach satin sheets over my body.  My movement didn't disturb the the couple's sensual intimacy, so I lay back on down on my comfortable bed and watched the scene play out in front of me.  Becoming aroused at the thought of this beautiful woman's obvious intention of allowing me to be a voyeur, I reached down under the covers to touch my body... I imagined that Giselle's hands were carressing my skin... Then it happened... The couple joined me on my bed and I felt myself shiver with absolute, unbridled pleasure.  Closing my eyes in orgasmic ecstacy, I felt Giselle's soft skin next to my own.  She writhed against me in a frenzy of pure passion as Adrian pushed himself into her.

Without further hesitation, I began to explore her wonderful silken curves and her ample, perfect breasts had the softest skin imaginable.  I kissed them softly and rubbed my lips against their wonderful smoothness.  Her large nipples quickly hardened between my finger and thumb and I couldn't resist licking and sucking as she groaned in ultimate pleasure.  Our three bodies ground together as one almost as though every movement had been choreographed.

Each movement was fluid.  Every kiss, touch and thrust gained or gave pleasure and the wonderful experience had to be the best in my entire life.  No-one was left unsatisfied and sleep came too soon, although our energy was spent. Days passed by with no mention of the menage a trois.  I must have looked quite soppy, wandering around in a daze.  Soon after the invitation on that memorable night, I'd moved into Giselle's room.  She worked long and erratic hours and was often home late, utterly exhausted.  Prescription drugs helped her sleep and I'd pleasure her in her lighter slumbers.  Giselle had the most responsive body that I've ever known and I gained pleasure by giving it to her.  Love was too tame a word for how I felt about my Giselle.

Months passed by and we were very happy.  Flowers from star struck admirers arrived in steady flows, but we never heard from Adrian again.  Maybe he'd realised that Giselle and I were soulmates or perhaps he was simply embarrassed by the whole affair.  We shall most likely never learn the truth, but I was glad that it had all happened.  Giselle was a perfect roommate and the incident with Adrian was never mentioned again.  Daniel was a successful playwright and had been asking my Giselle out since they started working together.  I liked him and so did my lover.  One night, after rehearsals Giselle decided to invite him back to our place.  She knew that I wouldn't mind.  As usual, I'd gone to bed around midnight and was sleeping lightly when I heard the door.  Daniel and Giselle were quiet and I always appreciated her thoughtfulness when I was resting.  Smiling to myself, I curled up and imagined my sultry enchantress' sensual charms arousing the young man.

The second time it happened I was shocked, almost sickened.  It wasn't the fact that Giselle was perfectly willing to bring another lover to our bed.  My time in the acting industry made me extremely sexually aware and open minded, so there was no problem there.  I'm not a jealous lover, I knew that I could please Giselle more than any other and was confident that she was happy with me.  The reason for my disgust was quite justified.  How dare anyone think of me as some kind of cheap thrill!  The devastating truth hit me like a lightening bolt and I froze when I heard the dreadful words from Daniel's lips as he and Giselle entered the room.  All he was interested in was a 'kiss and tell' in a famous actress' bedroom!  My temper reached boiling point.  I recall being woken up the following morning by Elisa's boring drawl.  To add insult to injury, the damned estate agent had invited a psychic investigator into my beautiful home!  Would they never leave me in peace?  Their voices grated on my nerves and I felt so humiliated to think that my home was being invaded and my life exposed as a mockery.  To think, I had been such a star before these upstarts had even been born!

Scanning my bedroom in horror, I took in the upturned dressing table and scattered ornaments spread over the soiled carpet.  At least it smelled good, I thought as I noticed the broken crystal bottle and dark stain that had once been a very costly brand of French perfume.  Rudolph Valentino had given it to me and I'd treasured it for so long!  Tears errupted from somewhere deep inside my being as everything suddenly became clear.  I fell back onto my soft down filled mattress and wept as never before.  No matter how hard I screamed, the investigator's words could not be erased...

'I sense very strong paranormal activity in this room... the spirit of a woman, possibly a failed actress from the early nineteen twenties... I can feel a deep sorrow... Something bad happened on this bed!  Suicide... I think she might have taken an overdose... Whatever happened, Charlotte doesn't want to leave her home!'