London, the city of SEX! - Sex Stories

London, the city of SEX!

... a notebook. Here's a pen. Use them.' However, by the time he realised that Tom knew the difference between a zinc and a stereo, and that he could pretty accurately judge the weight of a print stock simply by holding a sheet of it between his fingers, Warren backed off a little. Shortly after midday, Warren announced that he was going to lunch with a supplier. And he probably wouldn't be back. At least not until the next day. Tom was about to enquire what he should do in Warren's absence when Warren said: 'There's a new business briefing at two o'clock. Jeremy says that you can sit in on it.' (Jeremy was the agency's Creative Director.) imgur.com/uKhsIuI Tom arrived at the briefing on the stroke of two. 'Ah, yes, Tom,' Jeremy said. 'Grab a seat. We're just about to start.' And he indicated an empty chair next to a youngish fair-haired woman wearing a geometrically patterned mini-dress and knee-high boots. 'This is Tom, everyone. Introduce yourselves when you get a moment. And I think most of you have already had a chance to meet Laura. If you haven't, she's the lady next to Tom. Right ... let's get started.' The briefing went on for a little over an hour; and, at the end of it, Jeremy reminded everybody that the information they had been given was strictly confidential. 'If I find that you've let it get into the wrong hands, you will be on the first stage coach out of here. Understood?' As Tom hovered, wondering what to do next, a steady stream of the creatives came up to him ...

... and introduced themselves. Most of them seemed reasonably friendly. 'So,' Tom said, 'I take it that this is your first day too.' 'It is,' Laura said. 'Have you come from another advertising agency?' 'A craft printer,' Tom said - although why he had described HW Press as a 'craft' printer, he had no idea. 'And you?' 'A couple of years in journalism,' Laura said. 'It didn't agree with me.' 'Oh?' 'Well, I read Classics at Cambridge. It's not exactly the most vocational degree. Unless you want to teach. Which I don't. I thought that journalism might be fun.' 'But?' 'It wasn't,' Laura said. 'So I thought I would give advertising a go.' Tom nodded. That evening, as Tom waited on the westbound platform at Tottenham Court Tube Station, he suddenly noticed Laura standing just along from him. 'Hello again,' he said. 'Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you there,' Laura said. 'Where are you off to?' 'Home.' 'And where is that?' 'Notting Hill Gate. Well, Notting Hill anyway. Notting Hill Gate is the Tube station of course.' Laura smiled. 'It is indeed. Small world.' When the train arrived, it was already quite crowded. Standing room only. Nevertheless, Laura pulled a paperback from her voluminous handbag and read it all the way to Notting Hill Gate. 'This is my stop,' Tom said as the train slowed. 'Yes. Mine too,' Laura replied. As they emerged from the Notting Hill Gate subway into the daylight, Laura announced that she thought that they should celebrate successfully completing their first day in ...