Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (5 page)

“Hello,” Shirley said before pressing her body up against Collin and slapping a long slow kiss on him. She could feel him beginning to swell already.

“Baby, it’s good to see you. Is your roommate home?” Collin said in between kisses.

“No, she moved out. She got all pissy about something. Who knows what. I was a little worried about you. I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

“Sorry about that. You know . . . obligations,” Collin replied, slipping his hand into Shirley’s robe and caressing her breast. He released the sash on her robe and let it slip open. “I’ve missed these,” he said, pinching her nipples. “And, oh, how I’ve missed this,” he continued, lowering his hand.

Shirley unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his pants, letting them drop below his knees. Easing down his boxers, she let her robe fall off her shoulders and firmly grabbed his buttocks with her hands while she lowered herself to her knees.

Twenty minutes later, Collin was scuffling around Shirley’s living room for his clothes. Shirley watched him get dressed from the sofa, wishing he would stay the night.

“Do you have to go so soon? You just got here.”

“I’m sorry, honey. But you know . . .”

“I know,
obligations.”

“You know I’d stay if I could. I really would.”

“I know. I know. How’d you sneak away this time?”

“I had a friend of mine call the house. I told her the network was down at the office, and I had to go in and bring it back up. She was barely awake when I mentioned it, but I think she might be getting a little suspicious. We might have to cool it for a while. Actually . . . that’s why I haven’t called you recently,” Collin said meekly.

“What do you mean, cool it?”

“Shirley, I think we have to take a break. That’s really why I came over this evening. I wanted to tell you in person.”

“What? Before or after you fucked me!”

“Shirley, I hadn’t planned on that happening. I walked in the door, and you were all over me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Be honest with me. That’s what you could’ve done.”

“I’m being honest with you now.”

“Well, let me get you a bozo button, you fucking bastard,” Shirley said, raising her voice. “You know you’ll just be back. You always come back. But, you know what, Collin? This is it. You can take your teeny little weenie and shove it somewhere else when that frigid wife of yours won’t give it up.”

“Fine, Shirley. If this is the way it has to be. I was hoping we could end this like grown-ups.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not sure what makes you think you can do without me. What? Do you think Maggie’s going to get that pole out of her ass all of a sudden?”

Collin remained silent in response to Shirley’s comment.

“Wait a minute,” Shirley continued. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that wife of yours, does it? You’ve found someone else. Some other bitch to take that little toothpick of yours.”

Again Collin remained silent (a sure sign of guilt) before responding. “It’s over, Shirley. I’m sorry,” he said calmly as he reached for the doorknob.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. The fat lady ain’t sang yet,” Shirley snapped as the door closed behind Collin.

Girls with Flair

“C
an I get you a beer?” Annie asked Gina, pulling her keys from the lock as she closed the door behind them.

Gina knew she’d had way too much to drink and should probably say no. She could barely walk up the steps to Annie’s apartment. She looked around the place in her drunken state. It was basically a dump. The one-room apartment was on the top floor of a converted row house—pretty much a bed, some other secondhand furnishings, and a little kitchenette in one corner. In the opposite corner from the kitchen was a large wraparound desk with vast amounts of computer equipment. Gina found it odd that Annie couldn’t afford a decent roof over her head but managed to splurge on what looked like thousands of dollars worth of computer stuff.

“Sure, I’d love a beer.”

Annie fetched a beer from the miniature fridge and started fumbling for some glasses.

“You have a cat,” Gina said with a hint of disapproval in her tone as Annie’s cat crawled out from under the bed. One of Gina’s peeves was people with cats. It was always weird single people who had cats, or so Gina thought. Gina didn’t understand the whole “cat thing.” The idea of living with such a creature was absurd to her. Cats were obnoxious, self-centered, unfriendly, and, besides, who in their right mind would willingly change a litter box?

“That’s Silky Sheen. She’s my roommate.”

Gina could barely contain herself. A cat for a roommate. That isn’t pathetic at all. “I don’t like cats,” Gina said matter-of-factly.

“You’d like Silky. She’s just like a dog.”

This was another one of Gina’s issues with cat people. They always said that she would like
their
cat because it was just like a dog. She wondered why, if these people wanted a cat that was just like a dog, they didn’t just get a fucking dog in the first place.

“Is that so? This is a nice place you have here,” Gina said as if she genuinely meant it.

“Thanks, me and Silky are pretty happy here.”

It was almost sad to Gina that Annie talked about the distasteful cat like it was her roommate.

Annie added, “Money’s been pretty tight since I started my own business a few months ago.”

“Your own business?”

“I’m a bit of computer guru. I majored in psychology in college, but once I got into the workforce I just gravitated toward computers. I worked for a big insurance company for a few years, climbing the corporate ladder, but eventually decided to go into business for myself.”

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive.”

“I sunk all my savings into getting it started. The biggest expense being that monstrosity over there,” Annie said, pointing toward the computer before continuing to babble on about megahertz and gigabytes, leaving her guest confused, not to mention bored, by her computer jargon.

“So, what do you do with your business?”

“Well, like I said, I’m just getting started, but what I plan to do is help small businesses select the best computer hardware and software to meet their needs. Then provide support to them. I’m also a whiz on the Web, so I’m going to develop and manage Web pages for small businesses as well. It will be a long road to making some serious cash, but once I get going, I’m sure the money will follow.” As Annie rambled on about her business aspirations, she realized Gina was still standing in the middle of the apartment not quite sure what to do with herself.

“I’d offer you a seat, but I don’t really have any chairs,” Annie said. “I usually just sit on the bed.”

Gina sat down on the bed with her back against the headboard. After handing Gina her beer, Annie lay with her feet hanging off the side and her head in Gina’s lap. While Gina was trying to get over the uncomfortable feeling of another woman lying on her private parts, she forced herself to begin massaging Annie’s head and playing with her hair. Gina was amazed. Even Annie’s hair had gone sour. It felt like straw. Poor Annie—cheerleader turned poverty-stricken lesbian living with a cat—and a computer geek on top of it.

Annie began to gently caress Gina’s legs, enjoying their smoothness. Her caressing gradually got firmer as she made her way underneath Gina’s skirt.

At this point Gina had had about all she could take. “It was awfully smoky at the Phase, Annie. What do you say we take showers and freshen up a little.”

“Only if we take them together,” Annie replied with a giggle.

“No, why don’t you go first,” Gina said with a friendly smile.

Annie headed to the bathroom, which, if the rest of the apartment was any indication, Gina imagined to be disgusting. Gina waited for the water to start running and promptly got off the bed and left the apartment, being careful not to make any noise. As soon as she was out of the apartment, she ran down the steps and out the front door. Much to her luck, she caught a cab right away.

She sat in the back of the cab feeling woozy and nauseated. She knew she would inevitably puke from all the liquor but wanted to do it in her own toilet, not in the backseat of a cab. She felt a little bad about being so cruel to Annie, but at least she didn’t carry out her original plan. She pulled the notepad from her purse:

Sorry, I’m really looking for girls with flair!

She had planned to leave the note on the bed when she left Annie’s but decided Annie’s life was pathetic enough, and Gina just didn’t have it in her to kick Annie when she was so far down. At least not beyond pretending to be lesbian and then running off into the night, leaving Annie hot, horny, alone, and feeling ridiculous. She felt a little guilty about the whole thing. After all, high school was a long time ago, but Gina couldn’t help thinking of that awful moment when Annie tried to dissuade her from trying out for the cheerleading squad. Gina thought how she hated Annie, or at least how she used to hate her. Somewhere during the course of that evening the hate turned into pity. Maybe she’d call her in the morning and apologize. Then again, maybe not.

We Meet Again

“S
o what was so traumatizing that you had to rush over here and talk to me about it?” Peter asked Cheryl even though he knew damn well what it was. Cheryl wanted to fuck him. That’s what was so traumatizing. They both knew what the deal was, but Peter liked to put Cheryl on the spot every now and then just to get a reaction from her.

Cheryl lifted her head from Peter’s chest. “I don’t know. It was a hard day.” That was the best she could come up with. As the words were coming out of her mouth, all she could think was, you prick—trying to embarrass me. She was feeling cheated anyway. She didn’t even get close to an orgasm. Peter had been quick on the draw once again. It was always touch and go with him. Sometimes Peter was a great lover, and other times it was all over in a few minutes. What a selfish bastard, she thought. I sucked your cock for ten minutes and I don’t even get an orgasm out of it. If she and Gina ever got on speaking terms again, she would love to compare notes with her about Peter’s lovemaking abilities (or lack thereof).

Peter seemed to do better when he had a few drinks. He was much less inhibited and definitely lasted longer. One time she got him so drunk, he pretended to be her slave boy. She pictured Peter, completely naked, except for a bow tie and cowboy boots that she had made him wear—what a sight. She giggled a little to herself every time she thought about it. It made Peter really uncomfortable when she brought it up—if he even acknowledged that it happened.

Peter was about to get up, take a shower, and rinse his mouth out with Scope—as he did almost immediately after every sexual encounter—when someone started knocking at the door.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Peter said.

“If it’s that Gina bitch, don’t answer it.”

Peter was about to yell “Who is it?” but decided to look through the peephole instead. Cheryl was right. It was Gina standing at the door.

“Peter, let me in. I know you’re there. I saw your car outside.”

Peter slipped on his robe and opened the door just enough to look out. “What are you doing here?”

“Peter, there’s dog crap on my carpeting.”

“I took him out and he wouldn’t go. I
know
you’re not over here in the middle of the night to bitch at me for walking your dog at midnight—going way beyond my neighborly duties.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m really here because my life just sucks.”

“You’re plastered, Gina. Aren’t you?”

“Slightly.”

“Well, go home and sleep it off. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I can’t come in? Is someone there? Not that whore Cheryl again?”

“Shhhh.”

“It
is
her,” Gina whispered, annoyed. “Has she grown a third tit or anything since your last fuck?” she added, raising her voice a little. In her drunken state she couldn’t help hoping Cheryl would hear her. It was hard to believe that she and Cheryl were ever good friends. They’d roomed together in college for two years and were virtually inseparable the entire time. Their friendship continued only briefly after college, when Cheryl betrayed Gina, or at least in Gina’s opinion that’s what she did.

Before Peter could respond, a fully dressed Cheryl grabbed the door from him and pulled it all the way open.

“Peter, if you want to stand here all night and talk to what’s-her-name,” Cheryl said, gesturing toward Gina, “I’m leaving.” Cheryl walked toward the elevators with neither Peter nor Gina trying to stop her. Cheryl had wanted to go anyway, and this was as good an excuse as any. She preferred to sleep in her own bed, and besides, the humidifier Peter ran every night was awfully loud and disturbed her sleep. Ever since he had two sinus infections a few winters ago, Peter was convinced he was especially prone to them and insisted on using a noisy humidifier every night to keep his nasal passages moist and ward off infections.

“God, Peter, what do you see in her anyway?”