by Z. B Heller
Andrew is a little ginger-haired boy with freckles that blur together to look like he just got back from Mexico with a nice tan. “I went to the zoo with my mom and my brother. But my brother peed in his pants, so we couldn’t stay that long,” he said with a hint of a lisp.
“Well, I hope you got to see some interesting things while you were there,” I replied, remembering that Andrew’s brother was ten.
A little girl named Riley shot her arm in the air and waved it around like she was having some kind of epileptic seizure.
I pointed at the flaying child. “Riley, what did you do?”
“My mom took me to Vagina,” she squeaked. “She likes to go down there a lot.”
I tried not to seem outraged. “Do you mean Virginia?”
“I said Vagina; it’s one of the fifty states. Geez, Miss Summers, you should know that, you’re our teacher!”
“Yes, I suppose I should,” I exhaled, while rolling my eyes.
“Miss Summers?” asked a little blonde girl, Katie. Katie is my kindergarten nemesis.
“Yes, Katie?”
“You know, those shoes you are wearing are made from leather. Leather comes from cute little cows. Did you know that you’re wearing dead cow?”
The whole room erupted in a chorus of “Ewwww.”
“Katie, it’s all about the circle of life,” I said.
“You mean like the Lion King?” She looked at me with excitement.
“Yes. Do you remember what happened to Simba when he became too inquisitive with his uncle Scar?”
“Scar had the wildebeest trample over his dad, Mufasa,” she responded.
“Do you know what my favorite animal is, Katie?”
“A cute lion cub?” she asked.
“No, a wildebeest.” Katie’s eyes grew and she had nothing more to add to the conversation.
“All right, everyone, good morning meeting. Let’s go over why sticking your fingers in your nose can cause your friends to become sick one more time.”
The rest of the day flew by relatively fast. I suppose that is what happens when you have twenty kids, all with attention deficit, to teach. We were able to do a lesson on the letter P, until Riley came up with the example of pussy for a word that starts with P. That was when I surrendered and offered free choice for the rest of the day.
I was eager to go out with Renee for a drink and confess about my night out with Slim Jim. I started cleaning up the room and was putting papers in my bag when the principal, Mrs. James, came into my classroom.
“Hey, Mrs. James.” I held my hands in the air. “Whatever it is and anyone who said I did it, I plead the fifth.”
I was lucky to work with an amazing principal. Mrs. James was a fifty-year-old mother of three teenage boys. The words boobs, babes and butts were featured in her daily conversations at home. She was also extremely smart and loved the school like a fourth child. She often had the best gossip.
“Moxie, as much as I would love to tell you that I have gossip on the music teacher, sadly, that isn’t the case.”
I had a quick mental image of Mr. Carmichael trying to stick his penis into the hole of a guitar. Gross.
“We have a new student starting on Monday and he will be coming to your class,” she finally said.
Great, another rug rat with snot dripping out of his nose, sticking his hands down his pants to “pet his alligator”.
“Lovely,” I replied. “Does this child have any special needs? Any peanut, latex, pencil shaving or carpet mite allergies?”
“Don’t be a smart ass. He’s coming from a tough situation. His mom died last year and they are moving here from Maine,” she said with a sullen expression.
“There are actually people who live in Maine? Huh, I thought that was an old wives’ tale.”
“Do you really have carpet mites?” She glared.
“Touché, Mrs. James.”
“His name is Dillion and he’ll be here Monday,” she concluded as she left.
I finally grabbed my stuff and headed to Renee’s room. Poor Renee teaches 5th grade and always has some story to share after a long week. Last week’s story was about her catching a group of girls in the bathroom feeling each other up to see if their breasts were developing. I would never have been one of those girls, considering my boobs were fully developed at the age of five.
“Ready to go? I’m dying to get a drink at Dickies,” I said as I walked into her classroom.
Renee looked a little green in the face, sitting at her desk.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It happened again,” she sighed as she stared at the front of the class.
“No!”
“Yup! Paul stood in front of the class, giving his report with a huge boner sticking out,” she said as she turned her head to glance at me, looking for support.
“Shit.” I sighed. “How does he not recognize that it is socially unacceptable to stand in front of a group with a raging boner? Well, unless you’re at a strip club and you’re trying to get a Ben Franklin into some guy’s g-string.”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to have to have a chat with his parents soon because the other kids won’t stop snickering and are calling him Penis Pauly,” she quipped.
I tried not to laugh at this, but it came out. Renee laughed with me, even though I knew she was dreading speaking to this poor boy’s parents.
“That will be a rough conversation. What do you even say to a parent? Excuse me, can you strap your kid’s penis down with duct tape in the morning before sending him to school?” I said sarcastically.
Renee laughed. “Or maybe I can ask them to tuck it back like drag queens do.”
“Well, at least you didn’t have to tell a kid to stop picking his nose thirty times today.” I smiled.
“Who says I didn’t?”
I gave Renee a disgusted look. “Well, come on and get your crap. There is a drink waiting with my name on it.”
Dickies was a tiny bar in Chicago that no one would really ever go to unless they were already drunk on a pub crawl. The atmosphere was casual. There was a U-shaped bar in the middle of the room, bar stools surrounding it and booths encompassing the outer walls. One thing that I really liked about Dickies was Simon, the bartender. He didn’t storm you with questions, but always had an open ear to listen to your shit.
It was a perfect place to chill out, and they made an amazing martini. I was really in need of one to nurse my fragile state of mind and to apologize to my Tiny Dancer in between my legs. Renee and I got into the bar and sat in our favorite booth. Simon nodded in our direction and didn’t even need to ask what we were having. He was a good bar husband that way.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened with Jim or what?” Renee asked with a smirk.
“His name was Joel, but I think the name Tiny Tot suits him better.” I snickered.
“Ouch! That bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say that I might have had better luck with a chicken’s dick.”
Renee’s brows raised. “Chickens have dicks?”
“Seriously?” I quipped. “You’re a fifth grade teacher and you are asking me if chickens have dicks?”
“I just assumed that female chickens create an egg and lay it when they’re ready,” Renee replied.
“And I thought I was leading little children down the road of destruction,” I said, shaking my head in disappointment.
“Moxie, I don’t think your luck with men could get any worse. Do you remember Blow Job Rob?”
I looked at her with squinted eyes. “We swore we’d never speak of that again.”
“Yeah, the guy who wanted you to give him head and there was this big scab on it. He claimed it was just there because he was picking at it and swore it wasn’t an STD.”
I groaned, recalling the story in my head. The guy was smoking hot and we were having a heavy petting session in my college dorm room. I was trying hard not to vomit from the incense trying to cover the smel
l of pot in the room. I was anxious to see the package that this guy was carrying because I’d heard major rumors from different girls on campus. That should have been my first clue that he had been around the block a few too many times.
We got to the part where I met his Johnson and I could tell something was off right away. His size was definitely impressive, but there was a large oozing scab on his shaft. He tried pushing my head down for me to blow him and between the smell of the room and his monster wound, I ended up puking all over his lap. Needless to say, there was no second date.
“Or what about Hand Job Bob who came all over your hands before you even touched him?”
“You know pre-ejaculation is a real and serious problem in today’s men.” I laughed as Simon set down our drinks.
“Whatever the fuck you two are talking about just made my penis crawl into itself,” he said as we both took sips of our drinks.
Renee and I clinked our glasses in a cheers and I began to drown my worries away.
A few hours and way too many drinks later, I was slightly tipsy. Ok, that was a lie. I was piss-ass drunk. Renee didn’t drink that much, as she’d offered to be tonight’s designated driver. That, and she knew I was desperately trying to erase the memories of ghosts of penises past.
“And what made that guy think that waxing his balls was sexy? Does he like pain? Does he think that smooth balls makes it easier to suck on?” I yelled in my drunken stupor.
Did I mention that I’m a loud stupid drunk?
Renee laughed. “I think you should take a bar poll about hairy balls.”
“Exactly!” I slammed my hand on the table. “These are very important issues that must be discussed. Fuck foreign policy, if they have hairy balls, then they shouldn’t be running countries!”
Right then the bar door opened and a very fine looking specimen walked towards the bar. He was all man from the top of his head to the bottom of what had to be a size sixteen shoe. He was tall, about 6’4”, with brown hair, cut short on the sides and messy on top. His hair screamed I really don’t give a fuck, but I still look perfect anyways. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows and that showed off his thick biceps, and jeans that curved perfectly around his firm ass. He also sported a five o’clock shadow on his face that I wanted to lick all over.
I pointed a finger at him.
“Hey, you!” I yelled. “Yeah, you with the tight ass. Do you have hairy balls or smooth balls?” I staggered out of the booth towards him.
“Excuse me?” the Adonis said. His ocean blue eyes were gazing back at me and had me breathless. Well, I think it was one pair of eyes. Again, the alcohol was having an impact on me deciphering between human and alien.
“Smooth or hairy? Lay it out for me,” I slurred. The room looked like it was starting to sway a bit.
“Umm, last time I checked I didn’t think it was appropriate to talk about someone’s balls.” He smiled, playing along.
Dear God. When the Adonis smiled, it was like the gates of heaven opened and the heaven lights shone down upon him. A choir of angels was singing and little cute cherubs flew around shooting arrows. Or maybe that was a fly buzzing by. Again, I wasn’t quite sure because I was so wasted.
“Testicles are an important part of the human body,” I continued to ramble. “They hold the special sauce that makes babies, and babies are cute.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m familiar with the workings of the male testicles, considering I’m a man.”
“I know you’re a man!” I screeched. “But all men suck and they don’t like the word dildo!”
The Adonis moved so close to me that I’m sure he was able to smell the multiple martinis I had consumed. He smelled divine, like musk and sweet cologne. He spoke softly, so only I could hear him. “Well, maybe those men don’t know what kind of pleasure you can give a woman using a dildo, while she begs you for the real thing.”
Holy shit. I stared at him, speechless. My whole body started to burn and I felt my cheeks flush. I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so I said the first thing that came to my lips. “I like pussies.”
“Excuse me?” He smirked, putting one hand in his pocket and the other on the bar.
“I mean puppies! Puppies are cute and you’re cute. You remind me of a dog, a big wet slobbery dog. Maybe one of those bulldogs with the spiked collar.”
At that point my foot was so far implanted into my mouth, I could taste my toenail polish. After that, there was no backtracking. I could only go out with my head held high and my tits pointing out.
“Well, sir, thank you for taking part in the poll of the week at this lovely establishment. Simon, this nice man deserves a drink.” I quickly walked back to the booth where Renee was trying, not very hard, to hold back her laughter.
“How bad?” I asked.
“Well, on a scale of one being an embarrassment to ten you being a complete stupid fucker, I would give it a fifteen.”
“Why didn’t you shut me up, you wench?”
“And miss out on the very important bar poll? Never.” She laughed.
I dared myself to look back at the Adonis, who was now sitting at the bar, shooting the shit with Simon. Even though I was drunk enough not to feel my feet, looking at this man made my cocoon of love stir and I wanted his caterpillar nestled in it.
Renee pulled me out of my butterfly-themed daydream. “So, Moxie, are you going to give Joel another shot?”
“Another shot of what? Steroids to make his dick grow larger?” I sneered.
“I thought steroids are supposed to make your balls shrink,” Renee said thoughtfully.
“In that case maybe he needs some of that mutant shit that Superman takes.”
“You mean kryptonite? I thought that stuff kills him.”
“My point exactly,” I mumbled.
“Listen, why don’t I drive you home and we can put on a sappy romantic comedy and eat all those Girl Scout Thin Mints you have?” Renee smiled.
I did have a large number of Thin Mints. My student, Katie, was selling them at school. I told her I couldn’t buy any, that I was watching what I was eating. She then said she was also watching what I was eating and the Snickers I had at lunch looked pretty good. Since when was it ok to blackmail your teacher? She made a killer sale on that one.
“I have a better idea. Why don’t we go to my place, watch porn and make fun of fake boobs and fugly men on there? Oh, and also eat all the Thin Mints I have.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she laughed.
We both got up from the booth and started to head out. As we were walking out, I caught the Adonis’s eyes burn into me like a branding iron. I started to feel the world spin, thinking that his beauty was making the earth’s axis turn.
“Thanks again for taking part in my very informative poll,” I said to him, slugging his shoulder.
“And what do I get for adding my two cents?” he said, taking a long sip of his beer.
Oh, so he wanted to play hardball? Well, I had hope something of his was hard. I watched his lips as they curled around the glass. His lips were smooth and all I wanted to be was the chapstick he used to make them that way. In my mind, I imagined those lips tasting and drinking in the wetness between my legs.
“You get the knowledge that you’ve made a difference in the world of hairy balls,” I slurred, wanting to lick the beer from his tongue.
He stood up from the bar stool he was sitting on and stood in front of me. His massive frame didn’t scare me. In fact, it made me want to climb all over him as if he was a jungle gym. “What’s your name?” he asked, brushing a piece of hair that was stuck to my cheek.
The room started to spin very quickly when he touched my face. I was about to answer him, but instead of words, I threw up all the drinks that were meant to erase the nightmares of my dating life. Right in front of my Adonis’s feet.
Chapter Two
Monday morning came quickly after I spent the weekend hiding
from the world. I could not believe what’d happened at Dickies the other night. Even though I’d been piss-ass drunk, I still remembered some of it. The memory of the Adonis had my insides turning. Both at the thought of how gorgeous he was, and the fact that I vomited all over him. All I could remember after that was Renee getting me into the apartment.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Renee called as I was putting my stuff on my desk. “How are you feeling? Are you finished sticking your tail between your legs and done licking your wounds after that triumphant performance?”
“Unfortunately, no one’s tail was stuck between my legs and certainly no one licked my Axe Wound.” I pouted.
Renee grimaced. “Really? We’re going that route today?”
“Since nothing was stuck or licked, then yes, we are going that way. Plus, I’ve got a new kid starting today and I am in no mood to play Mary Poppins.”
“If you’re Mary Poppins, then I’m the fucking Genie of the Lamp.”
“Great! Can I wish for the events of last Friday to disappear?”
“Only if you rub me the right way, baby,” she taunted.
“Seriously, I don’t think I can ever show my face in Dickies again.”
“You’ve shown more than just your face there in the past. Remember St. Patrick’s Day last year? You thought it was Mardi Gras and proceeded to show the entire bar the new bra you’d bought.”
“I was getting paid by the company to model the bra.”
Renee gave me a you’ve got to be kidding me face.
“Ok, maybe not, but I was very proud of that new bra and I wanted to share my excitement,” I tried to defend myself.
I heard my phone vibrate on my desk and I walked over to check who it was.
“It’s Martha. She sent me a text.” I looked at Renee.
“Does it say that you were really switched at birth and her real stepchild is a doctor’s wife somewhere and has a billion dollars?”
I simply shook my head as Renee walked away and the bell rang. My kids came bounding into class and shoved their way over to the carpet.
I looked at the text from Martha.