Randi writes a little flash story. I have always loathed the "I'm the friend of someone who fucked you over, so you have to accept him/her in our lives, as well" scenario. It can create hella tension, though, so I dealt with it in my way. Maybe some will enjoy. My usual rules apply. Be an asshole in the comments and I'll delete you. Hate the story, love it, confine yourself to commenting on the story and don't get personal, I'm good with that. Get personal toward me or anyone else and you're gone. Thanks to my hommies at Sagacious Insights, who give me critical reads. Love y'all. Randi.
I saw them come in out of the corner of my eye. There she was, just as gorgeous as the day I met her. She was unsettling enough, on her own, but what really disturbed me was that Celia was with her. I would have preferred that Celia had been with a man, or a snake, for that matter.
They came up to the booth where I was scrolling through memes, drinking my mango margarita, waiting on Celia. "Hey, Mac." Celia slid in beside me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Can I have one?" she nodded to the margarita. "Look who I found."
"MacLaine." Ithaca slid into the other seat. "Nice to see you."
"Found?" I turned to Celia. "Is there any way to lose her again?"
I heard Ithaca's hissed intake of air.
"Don't be rude, Mac," Celia said.
"Rude? Rude was 'finding' her and then bringing her to this booth," I said.
"Jesus, MacLaine," Ithaca interjected. "Would it hurt you to be civil?"
I turned to her. "We aren't friends, Ithaca. What fantasy in your deluded imagination would cause you to think that even seeing you at a distance, much less being in any close proximity, would be anything other than horrifying to me?"
I turned to Celia. "Let me out."
"Fuck, Mac, it wouldn't hurt..."
"Let me out or I'm going to push you out on the floor," I said.
"No, I'm not moving." She had that stubborn look I knew very well. "Push me; I dare you."
Well, never one to refuse a dare, I scooted over, pushing my body against hers. Since I weighed 230 and she weighed 110, physics became the deciding factor and she began sliding off the bench.
She jumped up before she fell and gave me an evil stare. She started to say something, but I was already walking, out the door and down the block. I summoned a Lyft and went home. I had just gotten comfortable, made my own mango margarita and was immersing myself in my book when Celia came in. Severe weather erupted in my living room. Lightning flashed from her eyes and thunder rolled from her lips.
It really was hilarious. When a five-foot-nothing woman gets salty, it's like you're being attacked by a kitten. I didn't let her get far.
"Celia, shut the fuck up. Sit down, get a grip and speak to me in a normal and respectful voice, or I'll put you on top of the refrigerator and you can stay up there until you calm down," I said.
She glared at me, then she cracked up. "Put me on top of the refrigerator... oh my God. You... You..." she giggled insanely.
She came and sat down. "Why you be like this?" she asked.
"Like what?" I asked.
"You know I'm friends with Ithaca," she said.
"See, I don't understand that. I never have," I pointed out.
"I like her. I've known her a lot longer than I've known you. She moved away and I went to Belize. She met you, you got married. After you were divorced, you moved back here. So did I. I met you, fell in love with you, then she moved back. You never mentioned her. That was a closed book and you refused to talk about it. I had no idea she was your ex until I happened to mention I was meeting her for lunch and you blew up. We had reconnected by then, and I still liked her. I still do."
"I don't," I said. "She's a cast-iron bitch. You know what she did. Has she ever denied it?"
"No, she knows she fucked up," Celia said. "She's sorry. She regrets it every day. She wants to apologize to you, be your friend, hang out with us."
"Sorry, not happening," I said.
"Why not? Why do you hold on to all that anger? Are you going to carry that grudge all your life?"
"I'm not angry and I'm not carrying a grudge," I told her. "Cutting toxic people out of your life has nothing to do with anger or holding grudges. It's about setting boundaries."
"How would it hurt you to be friendly to her?" she asked.
"It kills my vibe to be in the company of a creature I find disgusting," I said. "It's also causing problems between you and me."
She glared at me. "Only because you have this attitude."
"No, it's because you won't stop harassing me about it," I said. "It also causes me to question your judgment and feelings about me."
I could tell that pissed her off. I was fine with that. She was pissing me off, and I had a reason. "I love you, Mac. You know I do. I also love Mom, my sister and Ithaca."
I shrugged. "I never said you didn't. You're free to feel however you feel. So am I. What I really wish you'd do is say, "Fuck you, Ithaca. Eat shit and die. I hate what you did to Mac and never want to see you again." That seems like what I would do to someone who fucked you over like she did me. I've never said that, until now. You're the one pushing this, not me."
She jumped up and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door. Well, that was interesting. I picked up my book and started reading. I heard the shower running, and after about an hour she came out and went to the refrigerator. I thought about going in there and putting her on top of it, but I went in and showered.
She was in bed when I came out, and I got in bed. Not a word was spoken. We lay in silence for about ten minutes, then she scooted over against me, laying her head on my chest and snuggling in, all that ash-blonde hair covering us like a blanket. After a minute, I felt her shake a little, and liquid dropped on my chest. I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze. She sobbed a little.
"I don't like it when we fight," she said.
"Neither do I. I'm not budging on this, though, Celia. I want nothing to do with her."
"I know, I'll stop. I do love you, Mac. I got you a new book." She gave another little sob.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I found a leather-bound copy of
The Great Book of Amber.
I know that's your favorite series. You wanna see it?"
"Oh, my God, Celia. Yes."
She jumped up and went padding away to get it, a little naked sprite who inhabited my house. She was the polar opposite of Ithaca. Ithaca was tall, dark, curvy; Celia was tiny, blonde and slender. She complained about looking like a boy, but no boy had that spectacular ass or that curtain of white-blonde hair, swirling around, floating like a mist around her. Her tiny little titties were the most erotic things I'd ever seen, and she had the face and voice of an angel. If I could just separate her from Ithaca...
She came back with the book and a box of tissues. I admired the book as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. It was a beautiful book, the leather binding, the smell, the feel; there was nothing like it. I grabbed her, pulling her over on top of me, squeezing her little warm body.
"I love it, Celia. You are a doll. Thank you so much."
"I looked for a long time," she said. "I like giving you things you want, Mac."
"I don't want anything but you," I said. "Well, and this book."
She giggled. "I just want you."
Her hot, wet, delicious, squishy and plush lips crushed mine. She was on fire. She always had this energy about her, like there was too much to contain inside, bursting out at the slightest provocation. She sat up, pulling the lacy camisole she had on over her head and throwing it in the direction of a chair. I held her up for a minute so I could look at her, my hands nearly spanning her waist. God she was gorgeous: a little blonde elf, tiny tits almost all puffy nipples and areolae, perpetually erect and suckable. She fed me one and I let my lips and tongue pull at it, twisting the little silver bars of her piercings. She loved that, and I loved doing it. She was naked, all firm girl and she was a total smoke show.
Her little hands worked, tugging at my briefs, and I let her pull them off. She nibbled her way down my body, finally swiping at my raging cock before plunging it into the volcanic heat of her mouth, I pulled on her butt until she swung her leg over me and I had access to that hot little pussy. She was very aroused, delicious juices already there for me, and I worked on her until I could tell she wanted me to stop.
She loved a 69, but at some point she always wanted me to stop so she could concentrate on me, then she wanted me to concentrate on her. She could tell I was close, and she increased the intensity of an already fantastic blow job. I shot off while she made lewd gulping sounds.
When I came back to earth, I attacked that sweet little pussy until she exploded, writhing in my arms as I held her hips, that hoarse little whimpering sound she always made during orgasm one of the more erotic things I'd ever experienced. I continued until she exploded again, then struggled to escape, turning around and giving me a smoldering kiss.
I could feel the heat and moisture on the head of my cock, and she pushed, the head popping in while she froze. She was tiny, everywhere, and it always took her a minute to adjust to having my cock inside her.
She groaned and panted as she continued, impaling herself until we were fully joined, then she sat up and rode me like a pony. She was a fantastic lover, energetic, she came easily and often, and her little body was so athletic and flexible she could do amazing things. She came, then spun on my cock, giving me a view of one of the most spectacular asses on the planet. I could see her pussy, the lips forming a perfect erotic cheerio, pushing in, coming back out as she pumped herself on me. We exploded together, that hoarse little cry again, before she spun back around, moved up so she could kiss me and I held my little angel in my arms as we drifted off.
*****
I was working in the garden a week later. I loved growing vegetables, and I was good at it. My tomatoes were six feet tall, and the fruit was huge, just beginning to turn on the earlier variety. I was pruning off the suckers and I heard that voice.
"Hi, MacLaine."
I didn't turn around. "Ithaca. Just in the neighborhood and thought you'd come by and turn the knife?"
I heard her sigh. "You haven't changed a bit," she said. "Still out in your humongous garden. Still angry with me."
I turned. "No, Ithaca, I haven't changed, but I'm not angry. You just disgust me. You're a vile person, and I don't like knowing you breathe the same air as I do."
"How can I convince you I'm not a vile person?" she asked.
"Go away and leave me alone. That would be a start."
"Explain to me what it is that I did to convince you of my vileness," she said.
"Well, there is the bisexual thing you never told me about," I said.
"I agree that I should have told you," she said. "Would you have still married me?"
"Bi and cheater are completely different things," I said. "I don't respect that you didn't tell me, and I don't respect cheating."
"Celia is bi," she pointed out.
"I am very well aware of that," I said. "I'm also aware that she told me that before we were even dating. The thing is, she's monogamous. You aren't, and you never informed me of that, either."
"The day I finally told you, you didn't seem all that upset," she said. "You were kind of mad about me not telling you, but you got over it. What happened?"
