by Delia Steele
And he does exactly what he knows I want. He thrusts into me from behind with all his power. The sounds of our bodies colliding fuel the flames in my cunt—wet splatter flying all around me, his hands bruising my hips where he grips me to keep his balance through his violent thrusts into my body. “I don’t know what you want to forget, but it’s my job to please you,” he rasps out in panted breaths.
“Don’t you stop until you blow your top all over my back. I want to get out of this shower looking like Mt. Jizzmore exploded all over me.” I tell him through throaty cries and moans. My head is slamming into the shower wall as I clinch the shower seat harder in an attempt to stay upright. I use every bit of leverage I have to push myself back into him as I plead for more.
“Baby, I can’t fuck any harder. I’m not a damn waterbender.” I thrust back again and squeal as he digs deeper, despite his claims that he isn’t able to. Without warning, I feel a thick warmness running down my back with the water, my pussy instantly lamenting the loss of his lethal love python. I know my rough ride to release is over, so I do what any good girlfriend does…I fake it. Letting out another moan, I tense my body up to make it seem more real. It’s not his fault my mind is somewhere else. He releases his vice grip on me, and I slide to ground, the water still cascading down me. “Thank you,” I say on a sigh, keeping my eyes closed.
“So… Jizzmore, huh? How many more words you got stored up there, babe? Every time I think I’ve heard them all, you throw another one at me. But that mouth of yours sure heats my meat.”
Blinking through the water spraying over his shoulders and into my face, I watch him sullenly. “Just one word tonight. And for tonight only.” I reach up and flick his now limp penis that’s hanging an inch from my face “You shall be called Sir Jizzmonster, the conqueror of Mt. Jizzmore.” On cue, the fake smile slides into place, hiding the darkness inside that seems to be consuming more of me with each passing day.
Clay buys it and gets out, handing me a towel as he starts talking about his day. I wrap the towel around me, not bothering to dry myself, and head towards the bedroom. “Hey, you need to dry your hair or you’re going to end up sick.” He bends to pull my hair dryer from under the sink, but I continue my trek to bed. “No thanks. I like the curls I get when I sleep with it wet.” I crawl into Clay’s bed and curl up, still dripping and wrapped in the wet towel.
I feel the bed dip, and Clay wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “What was that?” I knew he wouldn’t let it go.
“Nothing, Clay. I missed you, and I got mad at Rory over stupid shit. I just needed you inside me. I needed to remember something happy.” I pull the covers up to indicate it’s sleepy time.
“Me inside you. Are you a toaster?” he asks as he pulls the towel from my body and tosses it in the floor. I have to smile at his attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yes, my twat is a toaster and your Mandoconda is toast. Now, go to sleep before I burn your ass.” I snuggle back into him and close my eyes. He kisses me softly and whispers, “That’s hot.” Despite the shit day I’ve had, Clay somehow manages to put me to sleep with a smile on my face.
I wake up to another note from Clay. Apparently, a car needed to be towed to the shop, and he doesn’t expect to be gone long. I get up and throw on an old outfit, not really caring what it is. I have a princess in need of a serious mani-pedi day with her favorite person. She is the one positive I got out of this life. Being her godmother means the world to me. She will never see the nasty in me. She thinks I am the princess she is striving to be, and I will never take that away from her. I won’t taint her by showing her my villainous side. With that thought, I decide to change into something with a little more sparkle, a little more pizzazz, that extra something fantabulous. I check myself in the mirror as I head out. “Yeah, bitch, you may be all whacked out, but you’re still hot as shit.” I blow a kiss at my reflection as I slide my oversized, blacked-out sunglasses in place.
I don’t have to wait long once I get to Rory’s place. I get a few quick kisses in on baby R.J. before Saige is ready to go. She comes stomping out of her room wearing these Beetlejuice-looking, striped leggings with red, heeled boots that hit her mid-shin and a long, bright yellow t-shirt covered in red glitter kittens. Nix that—she isn’t Beetlejuice. She is something right off the stage with Miley. “Ready,” She announces as she walks right past me and grabs a black purse that has to be as heavy as she is. I smile at Rory, who is just shaking her head and smiling. The outfit is wild, but I like it. Hell, I’d wear it.
We drive to the salon with the top down and heater blaring to keep us warm. She just had to have it down, and I can’t say no to her. We spend a few hours getting our feet soaked and our nails shaped. She picks a sparkle red polish, the same as me, of course. She tells me about Rory and Rome with baby R.J. and how she gets to help with him. She tells me about Ashley the vart and her hellions. She tells me how she sees Toby and how Ashley always seems to be screaming at him for screwing stuff up. I have to laugh, even though I know I shouldn’t in front of his daughter. But he deserves it. He may be a good dad to Saige now, but he wasn’t always. She goes on to tell me about Rio and Denver keeping to themselves more. They just like games and girls, but not her. She doesn’t seem bothered by it, though. Apparently, she is into reality TV. Some show about kids doing pageants and a gross family on a farm. Then, she starts talking about Rome, and I know where the conversation will go without even having to listen. That man will never do wrong by her, and as she goes on about how perfect he is, I smile. He helps her paint her nails, he braids her hair and her dolls’ hair, he takes her fishing even when the boys don’t want to go, and he never lets her tuck herself in at night. She is the epitome of a daddy’s girl.
No matter how mad I get over stupid crap, this innocent child can always ground me. She is non-judgmental and unyielding in her love for those around her, even the evil step-bitch. To have this would be so great. To know someone loved me unconditionally, just because, would be the icing on my nonexistent cake. We wrap up our nail date and head back so I can get ready for my supper with the girls.
Supper is already bad. I look around at the room. Black linen covers the tables with tacky red and crystal centerpieces attempting to class the place up. It’s a high-dollar, gaudy place. This is exactly why I didn’t want Ashley to pick. She likes to show off Toby’s money, and this is a five-star stop, despite the terrible decor. “What is this, anyways?” I ask, poking at the squishy substance in my bowl. It’s a weird yellow color with a green tint. I see Ashley roll her eyes before she answers me.
“It’s octopus, Amandolette. Could you keep it down, please? People are staring.”
I drop the fork, letting it hit the bowl hard. “You are feeding me saltwater-flavored, eight-legged cooter, and I need to be quiet?! Bitch, is you crazy?” I ask, bouncing my gaze between her and Rory. Rory almost chokes as she hides her face behind her napkin.
“I told you to order the soup. It’s shrimp and noodles. That’s it. But nooooo, you had to be dramatic and order the longest name on the menu.”
Still staring at the saltwater cooter in my bowl, I push it away. “I think that thing is still alive. I swear it moved when I touched it.” Sipping my wine, I watch Ashley as she barely picks at her food across the table.
“What’s wrong with you? You don’t like the lobster shit you ordered?” I point at her plate.
“No, not really. I ordered it because it’s expensive, and I eat a few bites. It keeps me from getting overweight. I’m a celebrity, you know. People watch me.” Did this delusional Barbie just say that? Seriously?
“You know, Ashley, you shouldn’t waste food that way. We could have gone to the diner and ate food we actually like for half the price.” I finish off my third glass of wine and signal for another.
“Well, Amandolette, we didn’t all get to spend our whole lives rich like you. I have the money now to buy whatever I want, and as long as I keep popping these babies out, I am set.
I will order anything I want, when I want, and you can’t do anything about it.” She laughs an evil, piercing laugh that sends chills up my back, “Not even Toby can stop it. I have him hooked this time. He will never be able to leave me again. Not ever.”
I watch Rory as she processes the scene. Her daughter has to deal with this day in and day out. “Do you say things like this in front of the kids?” I ask her. Saige told me she fuses all the time, but I never thought it would be this.
“I say as I please in my home. My six bedroom, seven bath, mansion. My home. The one I own.” I cannot believe what I am hearing right now.
“And here I thought you had changed, Ashley. But I was right all along. You never cared about anything except getting out of Monroe Falls. Zac. All of it. Just bullshit.” I push my chair back and stand up, “Let’s go, Rory, I can’t do this. She is too much drama. You can deal with her on your own.”
Rory doesn’t move. I reach down and touch her arm, but she jerks away from me. Quicker than I can fathom, she is on her feet and right in Ashley’s face. “Are you serious right now? All these years you have faked being happy with him? With everything? Have you voiced this in front of my child? Have you messed up her happiness without my knowing? I swear to God above, Ashley, if you cause my daughter pain, I will end you. I believed you. I stood up for you and tried to help you. And all this time you were playing us?!”
Oh shit, Rory is getting loud. I know it’s been a long time and she tries to keep it in check, but my spitfire best friend is still the same as always. Threaten her family in any form, and you’ll be wishing you were facing the fury of Satan instead of the wrath of Aurora Tate. That bitch is fierce when it comes to protecting those she loves.
“Let’s go, Rory.” Throwing the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I hold out Rory’s bag to distract her, but she isn’t finished.
“Ashley, you are a horrible person. Even after everything…after all these years…you still don’t deserve Toby. Saige is right. You are a Vart! You are a nasty, stinky, vagina fart!” She steps back, and I can’t stop myself from correcting her. She would do it to me.
“Actually, Rory, it’s a vomit fart, but either way, Saige is still right.” We smile at each other before I turn my attention back to Queen Vart. “And if you try to mistreat that child, Ashley, your ass is mine. If she utters one word to me that indicates you’ve hurt her, I will cut your nipples off and sell them online. Since you’re a celebrity and all.” With that, we walk away, smiling and fuming at the same time. It feels good. #TeamSparkleforce back in action, putting self-entitled, trash bag bitches in their places. I bring the glittery insults, and Rory brings the Jedi tongue-lashing skills. But I can’t ignore the predicament this puts my BFE in.
“Rory, this is serious shit. What do you do now?” I ask across the hood of the car.
“Right now, I get in my best friend’s car and go get something to eat that a squid didn’t eject from its ass. Tomorrow, I will talk to Toby. Saige will not be around that. Period. Toby can get her when he is home, but otherwise, the boys will stay with Saige at our house from now on. I know you hate Toby, but no one deserves to be bound to that wretched excuse for a female. She is the catalyst for a misery epidemic. I’m sure Toby is already infected, but I refuse to let my family suffer because of her. If I find out she is tainting my little girl with her nastiness, she’ll be wishing for that lunch tray to the face over what I will do to her. I still just can’t believe that she said that tonight! In all these years since we supposedly buried the hatchet, she has never once acted that way around me.”
I watch Rory as she absorbs the revelation. We head to The Diner 2 and have ourselves two fat burgers, some greasy fries, and the best shakes in town before heading home to the men and kids. Two days in Atlanta with my closest friend and I already feel the fog lifting. But, as usual, it will be short-lived. Why can’t I just commit to Clay and stay? I know if I did, things would be simple.
I get lost in my dreams of what could be and am surprised when Rory doesn’t mention it when I slip off the edge of the road on the way home. She had to notice, Miss Careful Cathy that she is. She is watching the road closely, but never once says a thing to me. I drop her off, and Clay follows me home. It’s been a long night, and all I can think is it’s time to crash. I need to recharge. Tomorrow will suck. Goodbyes are hard, even if it’s just for a short time. I will leave what feels like home and head back into my own misery-infested life.
I spend my last day cleaning up my mess through the small house and fixing a few small notes to hide in random places. It’s something I started doing about a year ago. It helps Clay when he finds them, and it keeps him off my back some. He knows I do it, but he never knows where he will find them. Always a short, sweet message of ‘love you,’ ‘love me,’ ‘miss me,’ or ‘What color are my panties?’ and other such love notes. Anything to help him smile.
Once everything is done, I pack my bag into the car, turn off all the lights, and lock the door behind me. I head over to Rory and Rome’s to and eat with them and say goodbye. This is my long go. It will be three weeks before I come back. I go two weekends here and three gone. It sucks, but I like uniform. It helps me deal. Though I’d rather be with Clay and the crew, I need to get my life in order first, and coming here every weekend isn’t going to cut it.
As I exit my car, I can hear the fighting. Which is weird. Rory doesn’t allow drama around the kids. I reach to open the door, but it jerks open before I can grip the knob. A very red-faced Thax walks out and right past me, not even acknowledging my presence. Oh, hell no!
“Hey, shithead, I know you see me.” He stops with his fists clinched and turns back around to kiss me on the cheek.
“What’s up, Mando? Sorry ‘bout that. I can’t deal with her anymore. She is ridiculous nowadays. She just doesn’t know when to stop.” Without another word, he turns and walks off, mumbling about Rory not being his mother and ruining his life. I want to comment, but I hold my tongue.
I walk in, and the scene is stressful. Rory is crying, and Rome is at her side. The kids are all standing around looking scared and upset, while Clay stands in the corner with his hands stuck in his pockets. I know that stance. He feels awkward. He must have walked in on whatever this was.
“You OK?” I ask, bending down to look at Rory through her hair. She wipes a tear and looks up at me. “Yeah, he just doesn’t see it. Carla is as bad as Carol. He is making a mistake.” I don’t know why, but the word mistake flips a switch in me, and I have to step back.
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” she asks, looking confused. I know I should shut my mouth before I say something I’ll regret, but the spark has been lit, and there’s no stopping the angry inferno raging inside me.
“Why is it a mistake, Rory? Because it’s not the way you say it should be? You don’t know this girl the way he does. She might be fine, and you are just seeing what you want to see. You always think you’re right. You always think you’re perfect. Hell, everyone thinks you’re perfect. You aren’t, you know. Perfect. You may live up here in this sweet little world of yours—Rory’s world or whatever—but you don’t know everything, and you sure as hell aren’t mistake free. Remember?” I am screaming in rage now. “Remember, Rory? You screwed up A LOT! Do I need to point fingers? Get over yourself, and stop being a holier-than-thou bitch.”
The pain in Rory’s face is enough to finally stop me, but before I can say anything or attempt to apologize, Rome is on his feet and charging towards me. With his finger against my nose, pushing in, he speaks to me with an authority you couldn’t ignore if you tried. “That’s enough. You say one more cross word to my wife in her home, and I will put your ass in the road. I don’t hit women, but I swear on my life, if you say another word, I may not be able to say that come tomorrow. She is your best fucking friend! She would lay her life down to save you, and this is how you repay her?! You don’t have a clue what is going on. You’re off in Monroe Falls, fucking off, doing w
ho knows what, refusing to grow up and be a woman to the man who adores you. Shut you’re fucking mouth, you pretentious-ass, bad-mannered trick. And until you can speak in a tone worth speaking, I suggest you get the hell out of our home.”
I remove my stunned gaze from Rome’s enraged face and look around the room. Saige has tears in her eyes, making me feel lower than whale shit. The only two people she loves more than me are now at odds with me. I swore I would never let her see my ugly, yet she just listened and watched as I berated her mother relentlessly until the man she calls her daddy stopped me and ripped me a new one. She is so hurt. And it’s because of me.
I turn to walk out, shooting lasers at Clay. He just stood there and watched it all. Not once did he say a word in my defense. If he loves me, he should have my back, right? When I reach the door, I turn back, and in true Mandotude fashion, I drill it in.
“You used to be my unicorn, Rory. I wanted to be you. Everyone loved you, and you were untouchable to me. Now, I wouldn’t touch you, and I damn sure as shit don’t want to be you. Sittin’ in this little-bitty-ass house, crying over a man who isn’t grown but is still making better choices than you. And you…” I turn to Clay for the last time. “Don’t call me, don’t think about me, and don’t ever say my name again. I do not exist in your life. You go shove your monstermeat up your own ass. Better yet, why don’t you go fuck Rome with it? Since you’re his little bitch anyways. Always up his ass at every fucking turn. Just leave me out of your freaky threesome. You bitches never could handle me. I fucking hate you all!”