Here you can find a variety of short stories written by Armand. If you are looking for a particular story, you can find it under the drop-down menu under the Short Stories tab.

Sensational Woman Seeks Athletic Man

Armand Hemsley 

I like my men tall, muscular and handsome. Sometimes I begin with that, sometimes I like to leave subtle hints, “Sexy single looking for fun” or “Sensational woman seeks Athletic man”. The first is a guarantee. If the pool is running dry I have to take the more desperate, weedy ones, however I very much like to seduce the lookers first. They make much more excellent trophies. This time I have gone for a dash of romance, “Fit female seeks dreamy man for evening walks”. Maybe I’ll find the perfect match. Perhaps this one will entertain me for more than one night, who knows I may even let him slip away.

The emails came in slowly at first, but by the end of the day I had several to choose from, my shortlist was competitive but there could only be one winner; Perseus. I mean with such an exotic name who could blame me for writing back. I wrote him a short but sweet email, “You’re name enthrals me Perseus, perhaps we could meet for a drink tomorrow?” I leave a winky face afterwards, just to get him warmed up.

“Sounds fun,” he replies, “where shall I meet you?”

“The Cisthene of course,” I reply (my favourite haunt).

“How will I know who you are?” He retorts. Pictures already? Cheeky. I send him one of my saved photos, the enticing filtered image every girl has on her phone; a nice tan, sunglasses and a shawl. No response. So you want to play that game do you Perseus? I’ll bite, for now.

The date is in two hours, I take my make-up bag from its perch atop the hand of a statue; a beautiful specimen, my favourite figure. The face is perhaps not so desirable but the shape is impeccable. I wonder if Perseus will provide me with a more agreeable posture. I lather some foundation across my scaly skin and run a tube of red lipstick around my lips. I further my look with a glamourous, vintage headscarf which personally, I think brings out the spark in my eyes. A pair of dark aviators to hide my stony glare completes the set. I slip into a pair of tight blue jeans and button up a long beige coat. The bedroom door closes silently behind me, a small line of marble dust flies up into the hall. I glide down the glossy marble stairs and pluck my handbag from around the neck of a pizza boy; his luscious smile prepares me for the date.

I arrive at precisely seven o’clock. The doors slither open as I enter and a handsome, buff man with dark curly hair signals at me from across the bar. He orders a lime soda, very interesting. “Gin and tonic, please,” I call to the barmaid. She nods; something in her eyes tells me she recognises my face. The look is disapproving, she must be jealous.

“Glasses indoors?” He enquires. I shrug it off.

“These bright lights hurt my eyes, aren’t you drinking?” I throw back.

“I like to keep my head clear on a first date,” he replies, a wry smile forming at the edge of his face. “Keeps me from doing anything stupid.” An inkling at the back of my head tells me he has more on his mind than he’s letting on. I perch precariously on the stool next to him and look deep into his eyes as I run a finger around the rim of my glass.

“I just love your shirt, Paul Smith?” I ask him.

“Quite the eye you have, and I suppose you chose tonight’s outfit from amongst Harrods finest?” He retorts.

“Of course, one can have only the best for such a special occasion” I almost hiss my s’s. The light charm seems to be working, now all I need to do is reel him in with an irresistible offer. A few drinks later I decide to hit him with the bait. “How about we skip the main course and go straight for desert?”

“I have been craving something sweet as of late,” he responds in an assuring tone. Hook, line and sinker. Perseus finishes the last few drops of his drink as I slide my empty glass across the table and execute a perfected turn towards the door. He follows closely behind me, placing his empty lime soda on a passing tray before holding the door open for me. Such a gentleman.

We take a taxi the short way to my abode. The taxi comes to a stop and the bright headlights illuminate the path ahead. The gates struggle open with a screech and he strolls in, glancing at the trophies on the lawn.

“Fantastic sculptures, Medusa,” he says.

“Thank you Perseus, I made them myself!”

He doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest, just grins at me and waits while I fumble with the keys. He pulls me close, I can smell his alluring scent as he gives me a quick peck on the cheek. I pretend to recoil in an embarrassing fashion. His smirk excites me as I proceed to open the door. The smell of fresh marble meets us as we step inside. I hang my purse back on its perch and slip off my coat. He does the same, glancing around at the room and pausing to stare at the pizza boy with fascination, “I see that you are excellent at capturing raw expression.” He turns to me as if waiting for me to invite him closer.

“Shall we go to the lounge?” I ask him.

“Of course,” he replies, politely.

I haven’t got any decorations in there yet.

I fetch us some whisky, ignoring his protest, and join him inside. I light the fire with a match while he leans on the mantel piece. “Gorgeous furniture, Medusa.”

“Why thank you.” His stance is near perfection, perhaps I’ll take him right here. I smile sweetly and raise one hand to my temple “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I took these off?”