“The closest I've come to a bouncy castle, before this is... I'm not telling you now." Susan complained, lifting her head from William's arm and narrowing her stare at his smile. "It was a jungle gym...." His expression devolved into lazy-eyed confoundment. "A jungle gym, you know... those things kids play on in parks. I ended up with bruises on my bum and a cider hangover. If it’s going to be outdoors, it has to be something padded... or a golf course with that nice soft grass."
“Golf courses? Are you sure there’s no werewolf in your family?” he laughed, folding his arms behind his head against the silver floor. “You don’t want to believe I was a bouncy castle virgin because it disturbs your cozy vision of my omni... slut... tifer... my omnislutiferousness.”
“That’s not a word.”
“English isn’t my first language.” he sighed, his hand wandering to her breast. They lay together in the midst of the structure to which she had referred, unclothed but for the length of blue ikat he had worn into the garden, Susan's own garments draped from several of the inflatable turrets surrounding them. The midnight sky was lightly veiled by a haze swept up from the city, though the foremost stars retained their trenchant brilliance. She arranged lines of idle association between them, able to devise no novel constellations and touching fingers to her face in an inquiry into her own sense of pleasant dislocation. It was furnished by consumption of the dawamesk William had concocted in the kitchen and perfect secrecy from various fruits, pistachios and a dose of the hashish he obtained from nameless associates.
"I am completely shitfaced but I can't stop eating this stuff." she confessed as she leant over to suck one of the three remaining sweetmeats from the pallor of his stomach; rolling back, she reached out for the telephone lying in obscurity at the base of the wall and began reading through his numbers. “There’s three... four Pandoras in here. Who knows four Pandoras? Who’s Crazy Pandora? And Phaedra? I love that name.”
“Crazy Pandora's in Spain now, I think... Phaedra’s a sixty year old witch with gold bridgework and is more of a sabre-toothed tiger than a cougar, but I still would.”
“Who's Javier B?"
"Oh... just this guy..."
“Exactly how gay are you, William, because I don't fancy walking in one day and finding someone's shiny bollocks in mid bloody air." His disturbing laughter echoed through the trees around them as his head fell slackly sideways.
“I don’t know..." he sighed.
"Yes you do..."
"Oh cloudcheeks, please don't flimsy-scale me..."
She frowned, then laughed.
"I'm Kinsey scaling you."
"Whatever... it's just a little black line, and my scale needs more directions, poupée... dimensions..." he explained. His hand rose again and wandered over her face, tracing the shape of her brows. "It's not really a thing for me. I don't look at men and think, wow, that guy’s hotness is putting me off girls forever, and vice versa... that's crazy. And wasteful. I just can't get political about something as dumb and strange as sex.” Susan smiled at his sincerity. “If I get a choice, I suppose I do swim toward estrogen island rather than gonad inlet, but there are a few pillow-princess inches on my person that would find it hard to dire au revoir owner/operator blowjobs.” he laughed. “But je ne sais pas... if you’ve got your hand down my pants, all I'm really thinking is wow, you read my mind."
“Wow, you put some thought into that.”
“Genius is located on the slut chromosome. It’s science.”
“Nothing to do with how much time you spend with a bong thinking about sex, then.”
“Ever tried girls?”
“No..." Susan sighed. "I always think of lesbians as experts. I’m too lazy.”
“You’re sure? Phaedra loves a brunette with an accent and I don’t mind taking time out of my busy schedule to make sure you’re doing it right.”
“Thanks, but no.”
"Don't be backward about coming forward with nasty scenarios, cloudcheeks... your wish is my I thought you'd never ask." he smiled.
"I don't really have a secret thing..." Susan rolled her tongue behind the denial, fueling his suspicion.
"Well, you can cross semibestiality right off the to-do list."
She slapped his arm.
"Alright... I do sort of have a thing... about men. Watching guys going at it.”
"Mon dieu... so it was a lie about the bollocks in the air... in fact, nothing would please you more..." William declared, taking up his phone. “Anything for you, baby. Bear or twink?”
"No! I don’t mean now...”
“Mmm Javier... está muy bueno. I never have, but he’s got a great personality. And a monster cock. I'm just assuming you're a size queen...” he grinned with the phone to his ear. “Javier? Sup? I’ve got this freak here and she’s begging me to go gay for pay. Throwing Cs right at me while I’m talking to you.” William fended her gently with his arm. “I’ll deal you in for half if you can get here in twenty minutes. Yeah yeah yeah...” He looked back at her dubiously. “Well, she says she just wants to watch, but I can't guarantee she won't strap on and tap in...”
Susan seized and threw the telephone from the edge of the castle, rolling him over and spanking his rear while he lay with his face pressed to the vinyl, incapacitated with laughter.
“Your face...” he gasped as she perceived the ruse to which she had fallen victim.
“You are so fucking immature!”
"I know... je suis désolé.”
"Oh no..." she cried, pushing him over onto his back and discovering the remaining dawamesk flattened by his stomach to the floor of the castle; he caught her leg and dumped her onto her back though she thwarted the kiss he attempted by covering his mouth with both hands, shrieking as he pushed his tongue between her fingers. A pocket of sap smacked in the fire he had set in the midst of the magnolias, at which she started violently, then lapsed onto the vinyl with relief. “Every time I hear a noise I think it’s your brother about to take my head off with a shotgun.”
“Why? Has he said something?” he asked, settling alongside her with his ear to her navel, drawing the blue cloth over their legs.
“He doesn’t have to... he just looks at me, and I know he knows that I know. Not that I actually know anything about him... and I think I prefer it that way..."
“There's a lot I don't know either." William admitted. "I was at one end of the world and he was at the other a lot of the time... some of what I've heard is just third-hand backwash bullshit..." He remembered the dawamesk and peeled it off himself, sucking the sweetness from his fingers. "I could tell you the things I believe.”
CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
© céili o'keefe do not reproduce
“Golf courses? Are you sure there’s no werewolf in your family?” he laughed, folding his arms behind his head against the silver floor. “You don’t want to believe I was a bouncy castle virgin because it disturbs your cozy vision of my omni... slut... tifer... my omnislutiferousness.”
“That’s not a word.”
“English isn’t my first language.” he sighed, his hand wandering to her breast. They lay together in the midst of the structure to which she had referred, unclothed but for the length of blue ikat he had worn into the garden, Susan's own garments draped from several of the inflatable turrets surrounding them. The midnight sky was lightly veiled by a haze swept up from the city, though the foremost stars retained their trenchant brilliance. She arranged lines of idle association between them, able to devise no novel constellations and touching fingers to her face in an inquiry into her own sense of pleasant dislocation. It was furnished by consumption of the dawamesk William had concocted in the kitchen and perfect secrecy from various fruits, pistachios and a dose of the hashish he obtained from nameless associates.
"I am completely shitfaced but I can't stop eating this stuff." she confessed as she leant over to suck one of the three remaining sweetmeats from the pallor of his stomach; rolling back, she reached out for the telephone lying in obscurity at the base of the wall and began reading through his numbers. “There’s three... four Pandoras in here. Who knows four Pandoras? Who’s Crazy Pandora? And Phaedra? I love that name.”
“Crazy Pandora's in Spain now, I think... Phaedra’s a sixty year old witch with gold bridgework and is more of a sabre-toothed tiger than a cougar, but I still would.”
“Who's Javier B?"
"Oh... just this guy..."
“Exactly how gay are you, William, because I don't fancy walking in one day and finding someone's shiny bollocks in mid bloody air." His disturbing laughter echoed through the trees around them as his head fell slackly sideways.
“I don’t know..." he sighed.
"Yes you do..."
"Oh cloudcheeks, please don't flimsy-scale me..."
She frowned, then laughed.
"I'm Kinsey scaling you."
"Whatever... it's just a little black line, and my scale needs more directions, poupée... dimensions..." he explained. His hand rose again and wandered over her face, tracing the shape of her brows. "It's not really a thing for me. I don't look at men and think, wow, that guy’s hotness is putting me off girls forever, and vice versa... that's crazy. And wasteful. I just can't get political about something as dumb and strange as sex.” Susan smiled at his sincerity. “If I get a choice, I suppose I do swim toward estrogen island rather than gonad inlet, but there are a few pillow-princess inches on my person that would find it hard to dire au revoir owner/operator blowjobs.” he laughed. “But je ne sais pas... if you’ve got your hand down my pants, all I'm really thinking is wow, you read my mind."
“Wow, you put some thought into that.”
“Genius is located on the slut chromosome. It’s science.”
“Nothing to do with how much time you spend with a bong thinking about sex, then.”
“Ever tried girls?”
“No..." Susan sighed. "I always think of lesbians as experts. I’m too lazy.”
“You’re sure? Phaedra loves a brunette with an accent and I don’t mind taking time out of my busy schedule to make sure you’re doing it right.”
“Thanks, but no.”
"Don't be backward about coming forward with nasty scenarios, cloudcheeks... your wish is my I thought you'd never ask." he smiled.
"I don't really have a secret thing..." Susan rolled her tongue behind the denial, fueling his suspicion.
"Well, you can cross semibestiality right off the to-do list."
She slapped his arm.
"Alright... I do sort of have a thing... about men. Watching guys going at it.”
"Mon dieu... so it was a lie about the bollocks in the air... in fact, nothing would please you more..." William declared, taking up his phone. “Anything for you, baby. Bear or twink?”
"No! I don’t mean now...”
“Mmm Javier... está muy bueno. I never have, but he’s got a great personality. And a monster cock. I'm just assuming you're a size queen...” he grinned with the phone to his ear. “Javier? Sup? I’ve got this freak here and she’s begging me to go gay for pay. Throwing Cs right at me while I’m talking to you.” William fended her gently with his arm. “I’ll deal you in for half if you can get here in twenty minutes. Yeah yeah yeah...” He looked back at her dubiously. “Well, she says she just wants to watch, but I can't guarantee she won't strap on and tap in...”
Susan seized and threw the telephone from the edge of the castle, rolling him over and spanking his rear while he lay with his face pressed to the vinyl, incapacitated with laughter.
“Your face...” he gasped as she perceived the ruse to which she had fallen victim.
“You are so fucking immature!”
"I know... je suis désolé.”
"Oh no..." she cried, pushing him over onto his back and discovering the remaining dawamesk flattened by his stomach to the floor of the castle; he caught her leg and dumped her onto her back though she thwarted the kiss he attempted by covering his mouth with both hands, shrieking as he pushed his tongue between her fingers. A pocket of sap smacked in the fire he had set in the midst of the magnolias, at which she started violently, then lapsed onto the vinyl with relief. “Every time I hear a noise I think it’s your brother about to take my head off with a shotgun.”
“Why? Has he said something?” he asked, settling alongside her with his ear to her navel, drawing the blue cloth over their legs.
“He doesn’t have to... he just looks at me, and I know he knows that I know. Not that I actually know anything about him... and I think I prefer it that way..."
“There's a lot I don't know either." William admitted. "I was at one end of the world and he was at the other a lot of the time... some of what I've heard is just third-hand backwash bullshit..." He remembered the dawamesk and peeled it off himself, sucking the sweetness from his fingers. "I could tell you the things I believe.”
CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
© céili o'keefe do not reproduce
RSS Feed
