Ruby Allure's Books

Ruby Allure's Books
Ruby Allure's Books

Friday, 25 September 2015

Love Week - LOVE HUNT Chapter 5









Morning Eva,

How are things going? Are you busy? I have piles of work but feel the need to procrastinate through writing emails.

This weekend was intense. It was one of my hectic ones where I was here, there and everywhere. On Friday I went to an organic dinner party. One of the girls made raw chocolates for us all. They were absolutely amazing – no sugar and apparently good for you... Of course, we all ate a little too much cocoa and ended up high as kites... Then, when all the guests were sitting around the table gossiping, her dog kindly wandered in with her vibrator in its mouth. It then proceeded to sit chewing it. We all grabbed each other and were like ‘what?’ What do we do? Obviously we all giggled hysterically like naughty school girls, it wasn’t as if we could extract the thing from its mouth. It seemed to be treating the vibratory item like a bone. What’s more, the dog actually looked proud of itself.


Anyway, our hostess returned from the kitchen carrying peppermint teas. She looked at us curiously and said ‘Is something going on?’ We all remained silent staring at the dog. She followed our gaze and turned slowly; she had sensed something horrifying was taking place behind her and gasped when she saw her dog chewing the vibrator! Horrified was an understatement!  ‘Nelson!’ she cried.


You know how dogs do that weird ear thing, as if to ask ‘Why you looking at me.’ Nelson looked up mid-chew, nudged the vibrator and set it off. It started doing a pump action across the floor. It was truly amazing! The dog responded to the vibrator like it was a dying squirrel and shook it whilst growling. Our hostess turned crimson, put the tea on the table and stood with her hand on her hips, as if trying to determine how to get the thing back. When she tried to take it from the dog – a full fight broke out! The dog was determined to keep its spoils to itself. It kept shaking its head and growling while the vibrator kept pumping. I cried with laughter – I could not have imagined anything better on television - it was such a scene!


One of the women, who worked as a laughter therapist, said ‘It seems that your dog caught a pump-action rabbit!’ That was it... The stories of horror and vibrators began. One of the girls took hers to work because her mum was house sitting. They had a ‘tiger test’ where they check your desk drawers to see if they have been left unlocked. During the search her ‘device’ was discovered. It was placed in a plastic bag and was classified as a threatening object! Imagine! According to the report the ‘mechanical item could be misinterpreted as a detonation device!’ The ‘detonation device’ was confiscated. She then had to discuss the issue with her male supervisor. Imagine the humiliation of explaining why there is a vibrator in your drawer!


In addition, the loopy Spanish cleaner caught her using the device in the ‘executive loo’. ‘Hurry up – I need to clean more shits - it does not take that long to dry your hands!’ She hammered on the cubicle door. The evening had me in hysterics. They are all such liberated, intelligent, humorous women.  Now what bothers me is all the great, liberated women I know are single. The married ones deal with vomit, cooking and shit, while these ones are not bothered by men. When I ask them why they are not dating they say ‘Why bother tolerating crap?’ That is a strange and confusing state of affairs. I like men and I enjoy having relationships. Surely relationships can’t just be considered tolerating crap can they?  Anyway I have to say that evening I laughed so hard that I cried. It was so funny that I grew younger through laughing so hard!



Hello Gracie,

Nope not busy... Why dog eat pump-action rabbit? Was rabbit organic or orgasmic? Is to do with organic food? Was it orgasmic party or organic party? Ha! I made good joke, no? My English is suddenly very good no?

So embarrassing for the hostess!

So other girl use vibrating machine at work? Use of hand-dryer is clever – but bit strange don’t you think?


One girl in department here used hers at work also. She was doing late night overtime – some kind of testing. I do not know much about these vibrating things but she had one of those ones worn in her underwear. She also had remote control. She did not do good job with her work though, but thrill made happy while testing. Plus she was paid overtime. She also go to executive cubicle (as you call it but I call disabled) sometimes she goes when she is stressed and comes back with red face. Why can’t she just go to gym like normal person? Or go to a spa. What is worse is she confessed this on team night out. She was very drunk. Made me surprised. She is one of dreary women but not so dreary now! I keep thinking I hear buzz noise at desk... When I do – try not to look or pretend there is wasp in room.

Love the story though...

Now why do you not mention the man...

Any more man on cards? I agree it is best not focus on one.

Come on… how is going?



Morning Eva,

There have been about twenty emails from different chaps. Two were married saying would I consider being a mistress. Of course there were no photos, and of course they describe themselves as very good looking until you meet them. There are some real chancers aren’t there? I wonder if I am attracting idiots because either I am an idiot or because I am not terribly bothered or making an effort. One chap is a professor of mathematics, he seemed interesting but his age is listed at forty eight so going by the general rule of age lies he is probably mid-fifties.


In the meantime, Andreas is actually growing on me – like a wart – joke! The only thing is that he is being very intense… At least the intensity is interesting and filled with varied perspectives.


Although, he said he never avoided issues… We will see whether that is true or not… People who say they don’t deny are usually the ones who deny the most but are unaware of it... Unfortunately that sounds like me – ooops!


Eva I guess I should let you know I had a power date at the weekend. Before you get excited and all jiggly in the chair – well it was not my favourite date. He was a lawyer from Salisbury. We had a chat on the rich site by email on Saturday, he said he would rather meet a person in real life rather than build up a fantasy that would be shattered. With that in mind, he came down within two hours and we met for a coffee Saturday lunchtime.  


My first impression was ‘gosh’- his impeccable turnout was immaculate. Precision dressing with a Germanic feel with a hint of tweed is how I would describe him.  He looked dignified, around forty with greying side-burns. He wore Chino trousers, a navy shirt and a tweed jacket. There was definitely a moment of ‘hello!’ when I saw him. He then noticed me, remained sour faced as he looked me up and down very critically. He actually placed his silver-rimmed glasses on the end of his nose and peered at me as though I was a disgrace. I wore a burgundy wrap dress, a light jacket and shoes with a rose on the front. He then gestured for me to rotate. What did he think I was - a prize cow? I half expected him to produce a clipboard and tick off traits. What I found particularly bizarre was that he did not smile at all while he did this! He simply looked like an eagle scanning me like potential prey.


So, I sat down for a coffee and his monologue began. He told me how it was to be successful, how he accumulated wealth and how his ex-wife went off with someone else. He then sipped his coffee, talked about his work and told me how he liked shooting in the country. Admittedly, his life was very interesting in its own way. Oh, and you will be proud - I heard your voice in my head repeating ‘be nice’ – so I was. I did not interject, not once. Instead I timed the monologue on the stopwatch on my phone to see how long it would take him to ask a question about me. After forty minutes of constant dialogue, there was still not a sausage. When I say ‘not a sausage,’ I mean there was not a single question or any interest in me. I felt like a free psychotherapist for his list of his emotional ‘shit’. ‘Be nice,’ came your words so I kept quiet and let him continue while I tried not to eat my own fist.


I then heard your words ‘Try and find good things about him. Not all man bad!’


He had shiny shoes, I could not see one speck of dandruff or nasal hair. He smelled like citrus and musk, quite nice actually and carried a handkerchief. See Eva I can do it – however I have to admit that all the good aspects evaporated when the monologue progressed onto what he expected from a woman.


Here we go and my eyeballs rolled back in my head with this:

He only considered well-manicured, stocking wearing women whose ‘downstairs’ had been taken care of . He directed his gaze at my groin. For him to consider seeing me again I needed to go to a salon, wear more figure-hugging clothing and always wear high-heels. Apparently I have a nice figure but I was not presenting it to its highest potential. Bear in mind this was supposed to be a power-date with the intention of fun. Instead I am experiencing a full critique filled with judgement. He re-iterated his disappointed in my lack of high heels. He gestured at my hair - I had nice hair but the style was not quite right – I needed to visit a proper hairdresser. I was astounded, I tolerated his shit because I was being ‘nice’. What a complete dick! Now at this point I am smiling to myself because we had already reached fifty minutes without him asking me anything about me. The way he was talking was as though he had already decided that we were going to enter into something... Although he would only consider this as long as I followed his strict criteria – there were no if’s or but’s regarding this. You know what? Some woman actually married this dick! This is why they get away with it – they learn treating a woman like crap is alright because his mother and ex-wife tolerated it!


To make this general insult even worse he got my name wrong three times. Each time he used a different name, he did not seem to notice either. I was Julie, Daisy and Amy all in that fifty-minute spiel. I didn’t mention it - I just sipped my coffee and listened.

There was a pause in speech. I thought this is it – he is going to ask about me. Nope - his wife did not like sex (imagine telling someone that on the first date). She was so bossy in the bedroom, she actually demanded that he provide cunnilingus. Imagine! Of course he refused, what was she thinking? (She was probably thinking about planning her escape route while she searched for a man who liked to do that to her because he loved her?) Finally he said he just liked a woman to lie there and do what she was told! Imagine! Still no question about me – but I now know that he is shit and selfish in bed.


‘Now that you understand my needs – I will expect you to respect them!’ he said. I spat my coffee back into the cup. The expression of a rancid fart attacking his inner nostril could only begin to describe his response when I spat my coffee back in my cup. I endured the man for a whole sixty minutes. I was bored, repulsed and considered all the fun things I could be doing rather than listening to this ‘Rich, boring idiot.’ I stood up, handed him two pounds for my coffee and prepared to walk away.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded.

‘My name is Gracie. You have me mixed up with three other women. I feel that men should perform cunnilingus because they expect fellatio! Oh and I like to be on top! What’s more, I have endured your monologue for the last pained sixty minutes because I was trying to be nice. There is only so much one woman can endure and that is now my limit!’

He blustered about until finally he said, ‘What about our next date?’


‘Why go on a date with a man who hasn’t asked me anything about me?  Also the way you talk about your sex life with your wife is hardly inspirational or respectful. A very dull sex life is not something I would even wish to entertain – especially with all your rules... Good luck finding a conformist, rule accepting, blow up doll!’


I couldn’t help it Eva – I realised I can’t be nice or kind, and have no tolerance for idiocy. It is just not something I can do. I don’t accept bullshit or dullness. Okay before you tell me off and say I should have tolerated it – because that is what a Russian woman would do – I have to say I am not from that mind-set. Maybe this is why I am single. Surely there has to be a decent chap out there who is more than that! Unfortunately that wasted hour can never be re-lived. I certainly have no desire to endure such mental torment for coffee ever again. There is prostitution but that was coffee prostitution mixed with therapy – nopey nope! The fact I paid for my own coffee takes back the ‘power’!


As I walked away his eyes bore into my back. I unlocked my mountain bike, climbed on and peddled off. I don’t know about you but cycling in a skirt is difficult enough but with high heels – come on!


The thing I do not understand is why people endure such situations in the hope to be with someone. I often wonder whether society has it wrong. Maybe the success is learning to be satisfied with being single and learning how to provide yourself with everything that you desire from a relationship. Why ask for something from another that you would not give to yourself? In addition, I watch so many women experience degrading behaviour in public. They accept insult and put-downs as normal. There has to be something wrong with that. Obviously both parties are involved in the dynamic but what happened to self-respect and self-esteem. What happened to treating another person with respect, consideration and kindness?


My experiences so far clearly validate the need for a site called where we paste idiotic date stories about disastrous dating. That way the women who read these hideous encounters can feel better about their own experiences and appreciate their comparatively wonderful husbands! I am not going to set it up - but imagine. He definitely fits the criteria for  Oh God I really hope that all the future dates will be better. I fear that Spinsteroirty is drawing closer – that is the minority of spinster-hood. Booo! Actually maybe that is not so terrible. At least I find my own jokes hilarious – because they are!



Hello Gracie,

You pick them well don’t you? You must have been very excited to learn about his shooting. I can see your face when this man tells you to wear high-heels. I can just imagine rage on face and you planning on how to bring him down... This is dating - not war. It is about finding someone who is easy to get along with... There are very nice men out there. Do not be put off – learn to filter profile. One in one hundred must be good odds. Whereas ninety nine WILL BE ODD! Did you like clever joke. Play on English word. Must be advanced now at English. With good man must get that one quick or else other woman grab them fast. Woman is not stupid – when woman find good one must hold on tight with both hands and display breast well! Keep them bosom-hypnotised!


I feel good today. Office moaner is not here. We are all happy because we do not have to hear about her ailments. Why are people like this? Life is good not bad!



Hello Eva,

It seems it is a necessary criteria for each office to have a hypochondriac, moaner or misery.  They spend their whole day telling you why things are bad. They make rasping noises so that you can ask them what is wrong. That is their clever trap. Once they have lured you in and there is no escape, they talk endlessly about their ailments. These people are necessary to enable you learn the best techniques for escape. I would guess many escape artists have come from hypochondriac/moaning mothers.


My office hypochondriac does not moan at me anymore because I said to her ‘To be quite frank I have no time for your misery. If you have nothing positive to say, I am not willing to listen. Tell me something positive or don’t say anything.’ There has been endless silence ever since. I have watched her fight with herself as she searched for something positive to say. At times the conflict of positive and negative became so strong that she almost combusted with confusion. Negative spew enables attention for those poor souls who are victims. That is like your office moaner. Find amusing ways to distract her... If in doubt poke her in the eye or come up with an ailment that is far worse than hers. Mention that you hear that verbal leprosy is the new epidemic and if she talks about it, she might find her tongue drops off. Ohhh I don’t know what has gotten into me today. The ‘evil’ Gracie has risen! I think it might have something to do with running into the Ghost of diet hell past again. I saw her in the shop. She had just purchased a bar of chocolate and when she saw me she threw it over her shoulder. She then said to me, ‘I am not going back to the diet club, you can’t make me. I have only gained two and a half stone. When I did the diet my hair fell out and I looked terrible. You won’t make me!’ What is that about? Why do I care?


That random incident teamed with the Solicitor’s monologue is churning through my mind. I can’t believe I endured it for so long! Why do people think that they have the right advise you of what to wear and tell you how you should be in their opinion. Surely there was some initial attraction for that person to make contact. I am seriously wondering whether the internet is where all the ball-less weirdoes reside. I consider it a place where the socially inadequate and the general ‘bullshitters’ prey on ‘out of their league’ women! In times gone by they would wait until two in the morning and prey on drunken women. Now they don’t even have to do that...



Hello Gracie,

I like the idea of moaner distraction – it is good plan. When she begins big moan I will shout look over there! She will be spending days looking at lots of places! So what of Andreas? Any more from him? He seems so much better than the legal idiot.



Hi Eva,

Things are being a bit awkward because of our schedules. I am going on holiday to Miami and he is going to a cottage in the Cotswolds. It is quite difficult to schedule – typical me!

So we have agreed to meet on the twenty third of December – in Winchester. See the below mail: I am going to the Cotswolds from 27 to 30 December.

I can take Friday 23 December off work and come to Winchester for a day of hanging around, relaxing and chatting with you.

Let me know if that works for you! Andreas.


Hello Andreas, Unfortunately I have no holiday time left, so cannot make the twenty third during the day. Let’s talk later. Gracie

Good afternoon Gracie, Yes, let’s speak later tonight without too much interruption to your writing. We should decide on something – I am sure we can work something out despite the odds. We must meet to make our connection real. Will keep you posted about my adventures this afternoon!

Enjoy whatever you do and wrap up! Andreas.


So Eva, that is what he said... We will see. Gracie.



Hi Gracie

He does seem nice – speak nice. He makes a big effort - very open and attentive. He keeps your attention and lives interesting life. This could be good one – do not waste opportunity. Maybe phone in sick. It is time of year for cold plague. You always keep working even when clear stuff falls from nose. Why not take chance? This is life!



Hi Eva,

Clear stuff from nose? – Snot? I do love your expressions. I simply blew my nose in honour of that statement.


Oh you would not believe what just happened - I have witnessed a bosom off. Can you imagine? So the office hotty is quite a busty lady. When she walks into the room her breastage enters first and capture’s the men’s attention. Well now there is a new woman in the office who I have named Bazooooka Beth. She is a big lady with battle-maiden breastage. Yes and it seems the office hotty has competition. Well the pair of them have entered the room from opposite doors. Each have drawn simultaneous male attention but this is not something that has been witnessed before. It seems the men are confused. It is like watching the fastest tennis match ever.


Now the difference between the office hotty and Bazooooka Beth is that the office hotty is uplifted and gravity defying and Bazooooka Beth is more free-form. It is like missiles versus jelly. The only reason I have noticed this is because I went to ask the boys a question and that was when it happened. Two sets of bazookas approaching the men from different angles has kind of over-ridden any capacity for speech.  Anyway it seems both ladies are aware of the gazes they are receiving. Both are hair-flicking, strutting and then guess what? The worst thing ever just happened: a collision which resulted in breast warfare!  ‘Yesssss!’ Abdi muttered under his breath. The other men in the office placed their hands in their pockets and leaned back in their chairs. Oh it was so awkward to watch. Both women attempted to smile at each other and laugh off the situation. It was so obvious by the way they eyed each other that it was now war!



Hello Gracie,

Men are very predictable are they not? It is funny when there is more than one office sexual fantasy to look at for men. What men do not realise is that woman also have office sexual fantasy. You told me this term and I have used it ever since.


I have watched the same male confusion over two good-looking women in confined space too. I think Abdi showed the same strange behaviour. I met him for coffee and the office hotty was standing by drinks machine. He kept looking from me to the office hotty with a very strange look on his face. It was like the look you have when first sit in warm bubble bath. He could not make whole sentence as she stirred her tea. I then realised how much he really admires the office hotty. Anyway, all women are in competition to gain most admiration. Isn’t it funny that we all know this but never admit it? These two women use their breast as attention grabbing ammunition. This breast is their female power. Other women use other tactics such as short skirt or figure-hugging clothing. You should consider what is best tactic for you. I would not like to think of you as a shrunken prune in corner when you have same asset to flaunt. Anyway tell me more about man...

I like reading his email. It is better than breast in battle conversation.



Wow Eva,

I had never considered the ‘desire’ dynamic in such basic terms. Now that you mention it, what you say is so true. There really is an unspoken competition taking place amongst women to gain the most attention from the men – the gaze grabbing game! Brilliant! Now that I am aware of it, I think my potential prune shrivelling may well cease. Well here are a few emails to keep you entertained.

So this is what he sent:

Hello :-) Hope you have enjoyed the walk and the sea freeze. All that ice and chill. I bet you have a lovely warm glow on those beautiful cheeks! My walk on the South Bank has been good so far. I stopped by the Tate Modern. It is very busy there and no new exhibitions. I love art and the thought behind it. It would be lovely if we were here together!

I will continue my walk towards Tower Bridge in a moment. My thoughts are with you and I feel butterflies when I think about you. Is it so strange to have such feelings when we have not yet met? I feel like we have really built something together over the last days. My heart is beating faster as I write this... What a feeling!


Hello Andreas,

This afternoon I have been putting the world to rights with some very inspired friends. I am just about to go back down to the beach now. The thing that is lovely about the winter is that the beach is desolate and you can quite often have it all to yourself...  It is full moon this evening so I will go down to the pier and see if it is red. There is nothing more lovely than a crisp red-tinted moon reflecting on a dark sea.  Have a lovely time.



Hello Gracie,

It all sounds wonderful and wish I was there to join you in the viewing of the moon. I imagine having more in-depth discussions and exchange of thoughts. It is truly lovely to converse with a woman of such great intellect. Your articulation gives me a tingle of anticipation every time I read your emails. The more I read from you the more I am slowly seduced by you.


Let me know when you will be home and if you fancy a chat. I must admit I am so intrigued to hear your voice again. Did that sound shallow? I hope it did not because it was meant in a very deep meaningful sense of the word. Andreas.


Hello again Gracie,

Oh I can’t bear it! I have not heard from you and I just desire you to read my words. I know that is demanding of me, but something in your writing has stirred me. I want your attention because I feel alive - like some static life force has started to run through me. Who is blessed to feel such energy simply through writing? There is some kind of infectious passion within you – in your writing and within your art. You need to share this passion with the world!


Okay – separate to that, as I said, Art plays a huge part in my life despite having a mathematical background.  That teamed with my love for deep meaningful discussions about various life’s issues, politics and financials.


Enclosed are a few sketches... Tell me what you think!
:-) Talk soon Andreas.

Eva, it is so lovely but ridiculously intense.



Hello Gracie,

I think you have put him under spell. How do you do this to men? One minute you have one telling you - do your nails, remove hair from the down-stairs area and have good haircut. Next you have electrified another through your writing. It is not like you have even written that much? Yet you have become his fantasy. Actually have to say I notice a change in how you write with him. I notice when you write about moon you bring in something different of you. Not like normal Gracie – all strong. There is something else hiding beneath exterior. I think it is turning up with this writing to this man. Maybe he is not real, but something in him is making you reveal other parts of you! I like this – it is nice to learn hidden parts of others.



Hi Eva,

I believe there is something in writing that reveals the parts of you that hides. In me, that part is creative, gentle and whimsical – the romantic writing then drives the reader to imagine. That imagining lifts them to experience their life force. I would guess it causes them to reach out in themselves, to parts that they have denied. A simple piece of writing jolts them back to aliveness. That jolt enables them to feel once more and fall in love with themselves. They desire that feeling more and more and associate it with the catalyst. Maybe Andreas and I have this effect on each other. Admittedly I have to say that I do like this man and his writing. He really has such wonderful and eloquent insights. I think I am melting a little too. The more he writes to me the more I see parts of me in what he writes. It is ridiculous because we haven’t even met.


The thing with all of this – is the initial phase of projection. This is where you project the best parts of yourself onto the other... and I love the way I feel when all the best parts smile back at me – initially there is always so much hope and potential. Unfortunately that only lasts a certain amount of time before the illusion shatters and you start to see your shadow side too – that is when you have to face yourself... All the ideals and dreams are annihilated by reality.  Sometimes I view conditional love like water. You fill up your hands but it will always finds ways to trickle away... It makes sense why I can be so reluctant to enter into the relationship thing. It is more about the self than the other  - gosh I am feeling so deep today!  It must be the moon or something. Actually it is the fact that I have loads of work and deadlines. I am wandering off into fantasies to avoid doing mathematics! I am using this man as a distraction from what I actually need to do.

Naughty me!



Hello Gracie.

I think my brain have explosion now. If write like this with man – they might die of heart attack of brain! Like to read but you can be very deep. Some people do not like this! Others – well the right ones – they love it! Just need right one to understand and share. It will happen one day. I have no doubt about it. Just that time must be right for you.


Me - I am still angry at bloody village. He keeps talking about future in village. Why do I want to go to village when I have lovely flat with view of sea. Is he mad? Sea view in exchange for mud with sheep? I feel confused, why woman always expected to make sacrifice?




Come on admit it - as much as we deny it - we ladies like a good love hunt.
We have tick lists, ideals, and we hunt in high-heeled packs. Of course, we're all hunting for that elusive right man who ticks every box and even has tidy nostril hair. Okay maybe not you, but you know other ladies who love the hunt.
Well, it's time for Eva and Gracie to love hunt, and their "targets" are rich men - the golden sperm. Such exciting escapades would provide the pair with entertaining discussions during their dull office hours - or so they thought. What they did not anticipate was the discovery of the "booby man"; humorous but very hard truths about wealth, themselves, power; and the phenomenon.
The question remains: can love really be hunted?






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