💋The Mama's ⚢ / eng version

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"You're fired."

That sounded like a disgusting sentence, but that was the sentence that brought me to my dreams. It doesn't make any sense, does it? Of course it doesn't, but let me explain first! I had the advantage when this sentence was directed to the magazine editor Olga Dess by the owner of the adult magazine The Mama's, who's thirty years old but has such skin as smooth as a baby, sharp green eyes that always scare me but also give me the message she wants to give, brown hair that always looks like it's done by some hairdresser, and is addicted to the color red and high heels as everyone else around me, who is Rai Loreen. You still don't understand? Well, I was Kitty Campson, the magazine editor's assistant, who wasn't much known in the company.
I want to fix it if the assistant editor sounds like a very flattering title! You do nothing more than serve the editor and read the magazine. "My migraine started when I looked at the magazine sale chart!" Ms. Loreen yelled. "As long as the percentage ​​of this chart do not rise, you cannot even breathe!" She pushed the documents aside and took the last issue. She opened the magazine and shuffled the papers. "You're the new head of the page, Kitty," she said, glancing at my blue eyes, "and if you fail, you can pack up your stuff from your desk and start searching for new job vacancies."
Well, I wasn't exactly getting the treatment I expected -at least she knew my name surprisingly- but you see, I was suddenly promoted! I put a slight smile on my face and turned to Miss Loreen. "No worries, Miss Loreen. The magazine will regain its former reputation," I made sure - or tried - even though I didn't even know what I trusted for it. To tell you the truth, the page had a content that would exceed my size. The beginning of this was the signature of sexual relations in capital letters. The page consisted of advice, nonsensical information and small tests for couples' sexual intercourse! You understand what I mean by an adult magazine, don't you? You have to imagine how far away eroticism is to me, while I've been pretty awful to have close relationships with people throughout my 24-year long life.
I even got my first kiss from a gay boyfriend and it wasn't cool! When I shook my head quickly as if I wanted to remove the aesthetic meatball lips out of my sight, I was caught up in Miss Loreen's anticipated gaze. "You better keep that promise," she said quietly, "otherwise there's the door," she pointed at the big door of the meeting room-just before Olga had sadly left. I didn't know what to do, but it seemed like I would have to try every way to end this successfully. As Ms. Loreen grabbed her jacket, she stood up and her secretary Ruby followed. "I'll be keeping an eye on you," she looked at me for the last time and returned to poor Ruby in a matter of seconds before leaving the meeting room. "Go and get my coffee."
The only trace left in the salon after she left was nothing more than her intense strawberry fragrance. I knew Miss Loreen well enough - four years after I've worked in the magazine. The only thing she cared about was her job, and Ruby said she was so stone-hearted that she didn't even see her family. So I knew that Ruby was the only person who would have the information I wanted, and I immediately took a breath in her room. "What happened, Kitty?" she replied as soon as she saw me. Ruby was one of the few people in the magazine with whom I had a conversation, as well as being Miss Loreen's right-hand woman for years. I mean, you know, at least every morning and evening, I'd be greeted and sometimes have a few seconds of conversation. It wasn't very heartwarming because she usually did it with everyone, but when Pirk died, I was the one with her the most! "You heard Ms. Loreen, she put a great responsibility on me, and I'm going to ask you a little favor to get up under it," I smiled sweetly and sat down. She focused her suspicious gaze on my face and raised one eyebrow. "Look, I don't know about this thing called eroticism, but I have to get this right," I continued seriously, "so I have to learn some things about Miss Loreen."
She laughed. "Wikipedia has been invented, go and google her name," she went back to her work on the computer. I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm not interested in her resume," I leaned in slightly, "I have to write a page that really impresses her," I bit my lip, "I need her private life." Ruby frowned. "Honey, she never tells me that. She's the most mysterious woman I've ever seen," she smiled desperately.
"It doesn't matter," I whispered as if I wanted a top secret, "just give me her phone number."

🐱🐱🐱

I don't know how long, but when I looked at the small, yellow post-it note, I flexed tiredly on my spot. When I told Ruby that I would give her her favorite brand Gucci shoes - which I definitely bought to fit in and impress Miss Loreen- she finally spilled what I wanted and smeared the number on the note paper on the table, and then smiled. "If you don't bring them to my desk this week, I myself will write your petition for resignation, honey."
The shoes - unlike most women - was the last thing I cared about, and it was a very successful bargain for me, but the problem was that I hadn't planned what I was going to do with the number. What was I supposed to say? I couldn't come up to her and shamelessly say, 'Hey, I work for the magazine and what provokes you the most?' And at that moment I got an idea popped up in my mind and my eyes widened. I could actually do that! But if I don't protect my identity, I would be out of my job. For this reason, I wrote another item on the to-do list on my refrigerator - under the little article that reminded me that I would be obese if I didn't do the grocery shopping immediately.

▪Buy a blocked line tomorrow morning.

I was a crazy girl, wasn't I? But that was genius, admit it!

I stretched slightly in my place and when I noticed the chocolate chip cookies that Martha Stewart prepared on TV, I realized that my sweet crisis was holding up. As I entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, I took everything that fell into the junk food category - chocolate bars, a half-eaten slice of cake and small apple pies brought by my mother- and returned to the sitting room. All of this would give me both courage and happiness so that I would be able to overcome my responsibility. I put the last issue of The Mama's standing on the coffee table on my lap, and while I was taking a bite of my chocolate, I started shuffling the pages. How did I get into this? The pages smelled like adult content, and as I said, I hadn't even stepped into sex as a twenty-four-year-old. Was there any chance I was asexual?
Sighing in stress, I stopped on the big page, which gave couples fantasy advice, which was also the page that was asked to be compiled by me in the next issue.

♡ Smell matters!

Under the small title it was written that one of the elements that connect the pairs to each other is odor and how it can be used as an advantage. I looked at the other titles. They were talking about light, music, sound, and so on. For God's sake, that was boring! No wonder the magazine experienced a decline in sales because the pages didn't even have any interesting visuals. I had to find something more unique, and I had to get into Miss Loreen's eye for that. I took a bite from the little pie and gently moved in my spot. The magazine had a full week until its publication and I didn't have time to wait. So I pulled my laptop in front of me and went on the internet.

I took a deep breath before typing in the search bar. I didn't know what I was thinking when I decided to work for an adult magazine. To tell you the truth, the few essays I've written and my master's degree were the only things that helped me get this job. I guess that's why I was the editor's assistant.

Sexual intercourse advice

As soon as I clicked on the enter button, I had a lot of links in front of me. I opened one of them and started to examine the long text. I didn't want to poke around and find myself on a porn site, so I wasn't going to do much research. The text belonged to a sexual specialist and I started to read it. The article about sexual problems extended to fetishes and strange fantasies. I unintentionally blushed while I was reading. He was a very outspoken doctor, but he gave me a good idea. I could put a few tests on the page to help couples discover their fetishes or fantasies. Well, of course I had to continue reading the text on that topic before that. Oh my God! I could make this matter more interesting and learn about Mrs. Loreen's sexual life. I think I should also work on being a phone pervert. I put the laptop down and placed the pillow under my head and closed my eyes. My invisible burdens had already begun to hurt my shoulders.