This week’s Flash Fiction challenge, from the incomparable Chuck Wendig at http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2014/05/02/flash-fiction-challenge-behold-your-theme/
The challenge? A story with a theme of “We’re all human, even when we’re not.”
One week. One thousand words. I can do this.
Here goes…warning, definitely NSFW…
I still remember when she picked me up at that party. I had a pretty good buzz going, just grooving to my own beat, and then, there she was, all smiles and giggles and that hint of blush at her cheeks that spoke of either intoxication or embarrassment. Maybe both. It didn’t matter, though. There was a definite spark between us, a vibe that neither of us could have imagined before. I remember the way she gasped that first time she touched me, and the way I felt shivers all over. Man, it was intense.
Even that first night, when most lovers are a little too clumsy or fumbly or drunk to do things right, we clicked. A fucking puzzle of, well, fucking. God, it was amazing. She climaxed at least a half dozen times, and afterwards, we lay there together, basking in that delightful glow of really good sex. She laughed a bit, commented on how she had never known anyone who could last as long as me, but hey man, I’m like the Energizer bunny. I keep going and going, and she fucking loved it.
I knew, of course, that we’d never be exclusive. She made that clear from the start. She was not the kind of girl content with monogamous sex, and while yes, maybe that’s more my thing, she was way too into me and I WAY too into her to care. I can’t lie, we had a hell of a lot of fun together. And even when she did have other lovers, she always came back to me later. I was the best, she said. No one could get her off like I could, and yeah, I was damned proud. Hell, there were even a couple of times when we shared a lover together. Kinky, I know, but damned man…it was crazy. Fun. Sexy. Hot, hot, hot. Let’s be honest, there was no way I could say no. But life, man…life has a funny way of getting in the way of sexy times. We rolled on pretty good for a good year or so, just fun times and lots and lots of play. She even showed me off to some of her friends which was, you know, AWKWARD, but that’s the kind of cat she is, and hey, I got nothing to hide. And then…well, then, the inevitable happened.
She got pregnant.
Funny how something so small can have such a huge impact in your life. It wasn’t on purpose, and I’ll be honest here, I’m pretty confident it wasn’t mine, but we weren’t exclusive, and as close as we’d become, there was no way I was going to ditch her over it. She cried, a lot. She hardly ever touched me, when she first found out…I don’t know if that was guilt or shame or what have you. And when she did, it was always something quick, urgent. Need, not want. Afterwards, she’d cry some more. I’d try to comfort her, but there’s only so much I could do. She decided, at last, to keep the baby. I supported her regardless, knew we could make it work. And for a while, things did get better. I’ll tell you now, some women, when they’re pregnant, they can’t get enough sex…and that was my girl to a tee. We were going at it constantly – she said it helped with her back. I wasn’t going to argue. I thought she looked radiant, stunning. Beautiful. Every time I touched her, every time I made her cry out, I loved it. I loved her. God, she’s amazing.
When the baby was born, things slowed down again, but hey, I knew they would. It’s tough to get intimate time when you have a little one, crying and fussing and eating and shitting. And damned, man, that shit is non-stop. All hours of the night, every day of the week. I knew my girl was exhausted and since she chose to take on all the childcare stuff, the best thing I could do was be supportive and not complain. So I didn’t. I kept quiet, my needs under lock and key. I stayed content with the time we did get, those rare intervals when the baby was napping and we just had to fill that need as quick as possible. I was still her go to guy – the others couldn’t be bothered with baby drama, and lets be real, they couldn’t do the job as good as I could anyway.
Sometimes, I wish things could go back to that time, crazy as they were. Yeah, sexy times were rare, but they were good. Passionate. Intense. For a moment, when she was on the edge of climax, I could see in her that smile, that blush, that giggle from that first night. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. But things change, man. Babies are hard. And eventually, baby daddy wanted in on the picture. She was reluctant at first, I mean, the fucker hadn’t been there when she needed him most, had he? But now he wanted to be. Now he had changed. And she cried. She wanted what was best for the baby, and what was best was knowing his daddy. I get that.
Dude hated me, though. Felt threatened by me, I guess. He didn’t like when I was around, and got belligerent when she talked about me. He wanted me gone, out of her life. And again…she wanted what was best for the baby. She didn’t even ask my opinion. So here I am. Kicked to the curb like a piece of common trash. Used, abused, and discarded. Wrapped up in some cheap rags and tossed out the door. Now it’s raining, and I am out in the cold.
And fuck me. I think my batteries are leaking.