A Smile to Remember (750 Words)
Romance Story

A Smile to Remember (750 Words)

by Joy_of_cooing 4 min read 4.4 (5,200 views)
romantic blonde issing love asian 750 word project 2024 750 word project
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This story was written for

the 2024 Literotica 750 Word Challenge

. Below this line are exactly 750 words.

A playground was a tough place to be a man. The moms didn't invite me into their conversations, much less to their play-dates. They offered slow, over-enunciated greetings, and then they watched me. I could feel their eyes now, as my three-year-old screamed, "I wanna fuck! I wanna fuck! I wanna

fuuuuck!

"

Loudly and in English, for the moms, I said, "Mei-mei, I don't know what do you want. You try different words."

"

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

"

Across the park, one of the moms waved at me. No, not

one of the moms

, just

a mom

. My fellow outcast.

She was shockingly pretty, the sort of leggy bombshell blonde who turned heads and tied tongues wherever she went. No wonder she wore her resting bitch face like a shield. Between that and the language barrier, I'd never dared speak to her.

We did exchange nods, though, which was more than she got from the moms. Today those nods paid off. She held up a fork. D'oh!

"Mei-mei, you want fork?"

"Yeah, yeah, fuck!"

Fuck indeed. I hadn't packed a fork for her apples. In Mandarin, I suggested, "Look, she has a fork. Shall we ask to borrow it?"

She did lend us her fork. Mei-mei sat down at her feet to eat.

Up close, I could see that she wore heavy makeup. Was this why the moms shunned her? It was certainly a choice to show up at the neighborhood park every morning with a full face.

It didn't hurt to be polite, though, at least until I could give her fork back. Gesturing at her tow-headed boy, I ventured, "Yours how old?"

"Four," she said. Then, switching languages, "Do you speak Mandarin at home? I considered it, but worried I would do him more harm than good, what with my atrocious pronunciation."

Her pronunciation

was

atrocious, but her grammar and vocabulary were impeccable. Shocked, I demanded an explanation. Soon we were exchanging life stories. It was such a relief to speak effortlessly, to use idioms and nuance and humor.

I didn't notice that I was the only one smiling and laughing. Eventually, she suggested, "Well, maybe I'll see you tomorrow?" Her tight smile made it clear I had overstayed my welcome. Mortified, I beat a hasty retreat.

The next day, Mei-mei waved to her and got back that grimace of a smile. It looked physically painful.

But she came over. "I have so few opportunities to practice. May I impose on you again?"

"It would be my pleasure," I said uncertainly.

My misgivings faded when she came back the next morning, and the next. It seemed she was just...bad at smiling. They came out lopsided, somewhere between a smirk and a sneer. I learned to look at her eyes instead of her mouth. It was too disconcerting otherwise.

We kept talking. We became park friends, then...friend-friends. We texted each other, first when we were late, then whenever we had something to say. Play dates led to babysitting led to meal swaps led to staying for dinner.

One day, she invited me to dinner. Just me. "An adult dinner," she said, smirking. "We can get a babysitter."

If I had any doubts as to the nature of this assignation, they were set to rest when I saw her dress. And heels. And stockings.

Yes, I did get to see that they were stockings rather than pantyhose. We had been spending at least five hours together every week for most of a year by then. When things got started, they moved quickly.

We started getting a babysitter most weeks.

It was after one of these dinners, as I held her in my arms, that I brought up the makeup.

"You want me to take it off?" I heard an odd note in her voice, defiant but also resigned.

As gently as I could, I said, "I taste it when I kiss you. It's not going to stop me, but...it's not like you need it, either."

She was in the bathroom a long time. When she finally returned, my blood turned to ice. Someone had mutilated her. Jagged pink scars ran from each corner of her mouth nearly to her ears.

"Still want to kiss me?"

That snapped me out of my shock. I took her into my arms. I kissed each cheek. I said, "I do."

She lifted her lips to mine. She didn't let me talk for a while after that, but she did let me say those words again the following year.

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