Authors: Michael Malflic
She played with the strawberries, taking it all in as she finished she said, “I thought this was just a casual thing.” She said it in an attempt to be sensitive if he was starting to feel differently, this was never intended to be more than it was, they had kept their dating in the shadows for so many months. She wasn’t looking for anything much more serious than what she had up to that point. Somewhere
a long time ago she learned that the thought of love and romance or something beyond satisfying her physical needs never ended well. There was always pain and disappointment, expectations and intentions were rarely if ever met.
“It is casual, but it’s also stupid that we have to keep driving to remote parts of town just to have a cup of coffee in public.”
Perhaps Donna was making more of this than she originally thought, he had met her friends,
Nadrea
hadn’t even terrorized him too much. “OK, so what were you thinking?” He paused “Brunch, on Sunday at my usual place.”
Pausing and biting into an apple slice from the plate. “But isn’t it always the same crowd?”
He laughed, “Yes, but that can be said for everywhere. Tomorrow there will be a group other than the regulars, people rotate through, show up sometimes but not others.” The Husker’s paused because Donna looked as if she looked like she was ready to speak but was still formulating the words.
“Will the bitch be there?” There really was no other way to describe Christy in her mind. “Yes but we’ll hit her blind side, that way.”
“Alright, I’ll go” she said her words spoken more like she was being taken to something that wasn’t fun. Finishing her latte the couple decided to spend the day wondering through the Smithsonian together and as they were leaving for
Donna’s
to get her “some reasonably sized clothing” the Husker’s phone began to ring. She saw the name on the display and couldn’t resist answering it and adding “here you go Honey” before giving the phone to him. In more ways then she cared to admit, she was still the slut fucking the prom queens date. The Husker answered. “Hello?”
All the time alone was not a good thing,
Nadrea
could feel herself slipping into to a place inside herself, her fears, and her own world that was not healthy in any way, isolated and alone with no contact that didn’t involve a bit of liquid libation and someone to make her body sting in so many ways. She was alone with her own demons, swimming in her own deviance between lovers. Life was so simple, a few drinks, shove a toy in her own ass and finger herself time and again to the point of release.
Often to the point of rubbing herself completely raw.
The music was always playing and on this occasion it was an ironic choice of Mary
Poppins
singing “A spoon full of sugar”. If there was music to accompany her then she wasn’t alone, she was lost in the words or the rhythm, dark reddish brown hair in part caressing her shoulders and the remainder of her locks fanned out on the cold tile floor. She was dancing endlessly in her mind while she obsessed about the next place to be and who it would be with, drinks here and dinner there a nice a slap in the face and a good fuck in the alley. Add more vodka a little self applied riding crop to her inner thighs a painfully big insertion and repeat, shaking uncontrollably in her heels and garter belt on the floor fantasizing about nothing more complicated than the next
orgasm and the potential of it
s own life affirming intensity. Sure she could lie to herself about her lack of social interaction outside of alcohol, her profession and the scene, but the truth was only in the still of the night does the thought of her own mortality ever cross her mind, the fact she was alone not just for the moment but alone in life. The room was spinning, so it was almost time to head out, a little vodka and short wool black and white checkered skirt and full out slut blouse, if you want to sell it, it helps to advertise and tonight she was looking for a little companionship that wasn’t battery operated and self applied. It was dark and cold, but then again everywhere got dark and cold but it was the first chilly evening of an all too humid summer. The songs had moved on through many others as she took a little more spirit in and a little X to help her feel more at peace. As she headed for the door to the latest party the chorus of “girls don’t like boys, girl’s like cars and money” followed her down the stair
as she thought to herself and “big dicks…girls like really, really big fat dicks, or at least I do” and she giggled to herself.
Nadrea
was quite possibly the most
penis
sized obsessed woman in her demographic in the entire DC metro, a part of the world run by people who play whose dick is bigger for a living. Not a single man from puberty to death could pass her without her imagining the size and shape, the length and girth. Her cool eyes lost in their own perverse calculation, or its potential uses and his preferences. Size didn’t matter as a part of casual intercourse there she held
an any
port in a storm approach. But the subject was one she considered to be an essential intellectual diversion.
It was a beautiful morning, as the sun came up and the coolness of an early fall or late summer night gave way to the warmth of the coming day. It was a day where there were a few clouds in the otherwise bright blue sky. The clouds were mostly puffy and white, floating happily over the DC Metro, except for one small dark cloud that at one point did its best during the Husker’s morning run. Again he found himself running before the sun came up, down by the river watching a few stray crew teams that were actually starting to look interesting to him, just a little but more with each passing day. Sometimes lies can come to life, as he pondered how much fun it would be to be out on the water with a group of what he could only imagine to be friends working together pushing their bodies in the quest to gain a few fractions of a second better time. Brunch was a few hours away and it was with the exception of his morning run location, just like every other morning run. And after a run, coffee just to make sure his heart was really awake and would stay that way. Brunch today would be at 10:30 and Robert and Donna would arrive by 10:20 to start the introductions and socializing. The table was ready and as the rest of the group filtered in the chatter continued. As usual most of the group was at least 15 minutes late, but as the table filled there was only one chair that was blatantly empty. Christy had not yet arrived. She was chronically early but today she sat paralyzed staring into her makeup mirror questioning everything she thought she knew just a week earlier when she left for the weekly brunch. She kept reflecting on that conversation with Michal who was starting to seem more like a cryptic prophet than a political power player. Perhaps that was why he was shrouded in such mystery and myth. Her makeup was finished as she sat and stared at her perfectly pressed blouse that was going to accompany her Ellen Tracy suit. Standing there in her sensible and comfortable under garments and pantyhose that an old woman should be wearing, not stockings and garters, not a hint of sex or seduction despite a nice shape and toned body. She was not at all a sexual creature. Donna in contrast was wearing a beautiful soft
and silk bra and panties a garter belt and hose and while dressed conservatively on the outside she felt sexy and beautiful in her Richard Tyler suit, she was sure of
who
she was despite being the newest member of the breakfast group. While Christy drove her Chevy Lumina around looking for parking and walked up in her sensible heels the Husker and Donna had gotten out of a cab forty five minutes earlier at the hotels’ door step and began greeting friends. So when Christy finally arrived, the Husker was two coffees into the meal, her 5:30 Friday meeting companion was three
Mimosa’s
into the gathering and the only chair left was between two staffers of little known party members at the far end of the table on the same side as Robert. She didn’t know half of the crowd, so it was impossible to tell who number twenty three was. Christy at first focused on a sharp dressed well spoken type in the middle of the opposite side of the table. He had to be twenty
three,
it was death at the table, not prosperity. As she pointed a polite but aggrieve line of conversation at him it turned out he was the lover of the woman next to him, she was on staff elsewhere. The moron worked for a liquor distributor. He was not a threat to her place in line. The meal began and the conversations wore on, this play, that bill. Reform here, misinformation there, the blessing and the curse of the media. The table today was mixed company, that both parties were well represented, it was the kind of thing we like to read about but never really
see,
the liberals and conservatives getting along…for the most part. It wouldn’t be an uneventful Sunday morning in DC without someone
’s nose being bent out of place.
T
hat said it was an uneventful morning. As people started to drift away, she still hadn’t really figured out who twenty three was until Robert stood up to leave and the bitch next to him stood up also. Christy was incensed, she just couldn’t believe it. He was making his way around the table saying his farewells, his hand placed gently on her back in a tender but guiding way. As they reached Christy, the Husker spoke, “Christy is my head of staff here at my capital offices.” Christy looked for a change in tone there was none. So who was she? Then it became all too clear, “Donna and I are going out for drinks later today. Would you like to join us?” Donna such a wicked name, Christy thought. My cousin was married to a woman named Donna she was a treacherous bitch, she thought as her heart raced.
“Not sure” she responded. “When and where?”
The Husker could see her face
changing,
she wasn’t getting what was going on so he thought he might connect a few more dots for her. “Seven thirty over by the MCI center, nothing formal just a few friends of hers and a couple of ours are getting together.”
The light went on! The bitch wasn’t after her job, or her place in his life, she was merely someone he was fucking! She laughed a relieved laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
That was why he had the new
phone, that
was why he was disappearing. He had found himself a socially presentable little Beltway set of holes to amuse himself with. She thought perhaps she should offer to start stocking condoms in his desk and case. A powerful man playing with a little whore wasn’t news, it was expected,
“
Hell” Christy thought to herself “I’ll be ordering the slut’s car ride home before long.” Donna on the other hand was nothing but polite and gracious. She had not yet stated her opinion of Christy, but one certainly was forming and forming quickly. As the couple departed shortly thereafter Christy excused herself. She reached into her purse and without looking or fumbling pulled out her cell phone. She couldn’t wait to get to the car to dial, was she still in church? Had she gone to the early service, what if she didn’t answer should she call her cell phone? All the anxiety was released when she picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hi this is Christy.”
“Good morning dear, how are you?”
Christy paused for a second to gather her thoughts.
“I know where he’s been going!” She blurted out excitedly as she closed her car door. Mother listened intently as Christy spun a tale of Robert’s lady friend. She feigned surprise and was quite the convincing actress as she questioned and pushed and prodded as one would expect a meddling mother to do. Christy didn’t have a lot of information to offer, but mother who knew far more than she would ever let on let when she was the sole keeper of a secret. As the conversation drew to a close mother couldn’t help but ask “Do you think it’s anything serious?”
This was a tricky question. How in the world was she going to tell her boss’s mother that her son was just acting like all the other little boys in town and playing their dirty little games with some
whore? She chose to respond with “Boys will be
boys
ma’am, it might be that, but I just met her and it’s too early to tell.” Christy felt this was a fair noncommittal answer that was both true and open to interpretation. Mother paused and in her best hopeful maternal voice spoke “Well I can always hope
,
I certainly would like grandchildren.” Goodbyes were exchanged as mother smiled from ear to ear. She knew her son and if he brought a woman to breakfast with his contemporaries then she was not a tawdry little plaything and boys were not being boys. She believed that Robert had much different intentions, part of it was a mother’s hope for grandchildren and part of it was based on the fact that despite everything and her meddling, she did really know her son.