When Scheva suggested I take the tote of movies my mother tried to give us tonight and put on some porn for Sam to watch while we have sex, I told her she was insane. First of all, there is no way I’m going to watch any of those stupid DVDs and have to think about how many times my parents watched them and did God knows what with them playing in the background. Second, I told her we’d been there, done that. I’m not threatened by porn. I enjoy watching a little X-rated goodness to get things started and so does Sam. But we’ve never watched more than a minute or two before we’ve ripped each other’s clothes off and forgotten all about what was playing. Scheva reminded me this isn’t like any other time and I needed to step up my game if I wanted to fix this for him. She snuck into the bathroom with me when Sam was busy helping my mother clean up the dinner dishes and helped me bookmark a few good videos that she guaranteed would help and told me to do whatever I could to make him watch the whole thing, while we were having sex.
So, here I am. This is what it’s come to. The lips of my vagina are still folding like a fucked up origami around Sam’s penis while I continue to move my hips as I set the phone on my forehead and balance it there so he has no choice but to watch.
“What are you doing? What is happening?” Sam asks again.
Since my phone has started to slip with each jerk of my hips, it’s now covering my eyes and I can’t see his face to know if he’s even watching the video. I can tell by how vocal the woman on the video is getting that it’s almost to the good part so I hope Sam is paying attention. I can’t even tell if his dick is still hard since I’ve lost all feeling between my legs and it’s starting to make me a little crazy and borderline irrational.
“Look at the porn, Sam. JUST LOOK AT IT!” I shout, trying and failing to keep my voice from screeching like a howler monkey. “Two girls, one fist. Look at all that scissoring. It’s so hot.”
Even though my cell phone makes it impossible to see if Sam is enjoying this, at least I’m now happy about purchasing the ginormous iPhone 6 plus, the size of a small computer. He can watch the porn covering my face and have no clue that my mouth is wide open while I try to gasp for breath through the pain. I leave my phone balancing and carefully move my hands back down to his ass, trying to coax him to do something, but he still refuses to move. Maybe the girl-on-girl fisting was too much. I should have eased him into this with something less shocking, like an under-the desk-blowjob video or some light anal.
“HOLY FUCK! SHE JUST SHOVED HER ARM IN THERE UP TO HER ELBOW! I CAN’T UNSEE THIS!” Sam suddenly shouts.
He scrambles off of me, pulling his dick out so quickly that I can’t stop my scream of pain. My cell phone slides off my face and down into the couch cushions as I curl up into a ball and press both my hands against my vagina to try and sooth it.
“No! Come back! This will work, I know it will work!” I yell. “I’ll put on the one I bookmarked of the two girls dressed as cheerleaders. You like cheerleaders, right? They’re totally hot and I promise there will be NO disappearing hands, wrists or elbows!”
Clearly I have no idea what I’m saying, and I’m in full-on panic mode now as Sam sits at the opposite end of the couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. The muffled sounds of a woman screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Give me the elbow, too!” come from my phone wedged down in the couch, and if having my cold palms pressed against my vagina didn’t feel so fucking good right now, I’d reach down there and turn the damn thing off.
“I’m just…I need…I don’t know…” Sam stutters.
I try to push myself up so I can scoot to his end of the couch and apologize for trying to fix things, but my vagina is angry and won’t let me move.
“Why do we even HAVE elbows?!” he shouts, his wide eyes looking everywhere but at me as he suddenly jumps up from the couch and stomps across the room.
“Where are you going?!” I yell to him as he disappears down the hallway. “Just give me a few minutes to recover and we can try again!”
If my vagina had a voice and hands, she’d most likely scream, “THE FUCK YOU SAY?” while smacking me across the face. I hear the door to the bathroom slam shut and the shower turn on and I ease myself back down on the couch, keeping my hands between my legs and my knees tucked up to my chest.
So, trying to keep Sam as calm as possible didn’t work. NOT having sex with him didn’t work, and forcing him to watch porn didn’t work. I am quickly running out of ideas that will keep his blood pressure down so maybe he can stop taking those pills and we can stop all of this insanity.
The only thing left at this point is to continue doing whatever I can to not stress him out. It didn’t work in the sex department, but hopefully it will work with the whole not having a heart attack and dying thing. We only have a few weeks left before the wedding and as much as I hate it, I’m just going to have to let everyone else handle things from here on out. I’ll focus on doing easy, peaceful things that have nothing to do with sex or wedding planning to avoid anxiety and undue strain on his poor heart that my family caused in the first place.
It’s fine. It’s totally fine. We can just wait until after the wedding to try again. At this point, my vagina might rip itself from my body and stab me if Sam and I attempt to have sex again, so it’s all good. I’ll be able to reassure my father that we’re waiting until the wedding night while keeping a straight face, and Sam won’t have an aneurism or take my father up on his suggestion of running. Everybody wins.
Especially my dead vagina, may she rest in peace.
6
Chicks with Dicks
Sam
“I just need you to put your arm around me and smile. We don’t have to kiss or anything, just put on a good show. We need to start practicing so it’s believable the next time I see her.”
I shake my head at Alex as we stand by the bathrooms at Target and wait for Noel and Aunt Bobbie to finish returning a bunch of things Bev bought during her wedding shopping spree. Thankfully, Noel was able to convince her that seventy-five candles that smell like ocean mist were overkill and unnecessary for an outdoor wedding. I still have no idea why Alex felt the need to tag along, other than to annoy the hell out of me.
“How is pretending to be gay going to win Scheva back?” I ask in a low voice, glancing over at the customer service desk to see how much longer this is going to take. “I told you, she freaked out because you got all serious on her too quickly. You need to just back off a little, give her some space and then ease your way back in.”
He made me repeat exactly what Scheva said the other night all day at work for the last few days, coming up with one stupid plan after another to get her back, including sending her a bouquet of Vagisil boxes along with an apology card. I don’t know why I’m even shocked anymore at the things he says and does.
“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to take advice from a dude who has nightmares about elbows,” he laughs.
“It was horrifying! You have no idea the things I saw,” I argue, trying to block out the images from the video Noel played for me the other night after we had dinner with her parents.
Instead of sitting down and talking to my fiancée like a normal person, I ran away into the bathroom and took a cold shower to try and erase all that I saw from my mind. It didn’t work. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing all of that disappearing elbow, and I didn’t sit down and talk about it with Noel because I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d be able to speak of it without throwing up.
She seems to be on the same page as me, both of us completely avoiding the subject ever since it happened. She also informed me that she was handing over all the wedding planning reigns to her family and that we had nothing to do for the next few weeks but relax. She’s really starting to worry me with all the “relaxing” talk and I’m beginning to think she really is freaking out about my dick malfunction. If she hadn’t asked me to drive her and Aunt Bobbie to Target to return the candles so her mother could use the mo
ney toward the wedding cake, I was almost on the verge of thinking Noel only told me she was handing everything over to them so she didn’t have to come right out and say she didn’t want to marry me. No matter how many orgasms I give her, it can’t erase this issue and it’s clearly made her lose her mind. More so than normal.
Thankfully, I went in to see my doctor the morning after the elbow incident, and he agreed that it would be best for everyone if he switched me back to my old prescription without so many side effects. It probably helped that I made him watch the video and explain to me in scientific, medical terms, how something like that was humanly possible.
“Anyway, as I was trying to explain to you,” Alex continues, leaning against the wall next to the water fountain. “Chicks always seem to fall for the gay guys they can’t have. Have you never seen an episode of Will and Grace? If we pretend to be gay, Scheva will realize the mistake she made and want me back. All of our problems will be solved.”
“How in the hell does that solve my problem?” I ask.
“Oh, it doesn’t. When I said our, I meant me. I was just trying to be nice and include you,” he replies with a shrug.
“Okay, we’re all set. Now Bev can spend this money on an obscene, twenty-five tier wedding cake!” Aunt Bobbie announces happily, shoving the wad of cash into her purse as her and Noel walk up to us.
“Twenty-five tiers? Tell me you’re kidding,” Noel demands. “We do not need a monstrosity of a cake for fifty people!”
Aunt Bobbie gives Noel some kind of look which has her immediately closing her mouth and turning to me with a smile.
“You know what, it’s fine. Everything is fine. Whatever cake she gets will be fine, right Sam? How are you doing? Everything fine? You don’t care about a silly cake, do you?”
Noel moves to stand in front of me and rubs her hands up and down my arms, causing me to break out in a cold sweat. What woman doesn’t care about her own wedding cake? Probably a woman who is two seconds away from cancelling the wedding because her fiancé can’t get his dick to finish the job it started, that’s who.
“Of course Sam doesn’t care!” Aunt Bobbie reassures her. “And I’m sure you’ll both be happy to know my ladies from Drag Queen Bingo night are positively thrilled about being invited to the wedding!”
Oh, this I know will make Noel’s head spin. She’s been complaining about the huge guest list for weeks. There’s no way she’s going to let Aunt Bobbie invite a bunch of drag queens she’s never even met.
Noel’s smile never falters and she just nods. “I’m so happy they’re coming!”
Her voice is entirely too enthusiastic and now I’m two seconds away from shitting my pants.
“Drag queens, you say?” Alex pipes up. “Would any of them care to help me out with a little something? Maybe a chick with a dick is what I need. Sorry, Sam. You’re fired.”
Noel whips her head around to look at Alex, and going by the way his eyes widen in fear as I stare at him over Noel’s shoulder, I’m guessing she still has the crazy smile firmly in place.
“You can’t fire Sam! No one can fire Sam. He’s fine, and I’m sure he’d be much happier if you let him help out with whatever you need,” Noel tells him. “As long as it’s nice and relaxing and calm. We like calm, don’t we, Sam?”
Yep, I’m full on freaking out when she turns her crazy eyes and smile in my direction. I want to ask her what the hell is going on, tell her to stop talking in such a Stepford Wife voice, but I’m not about to do anything that will piss her off. She’s clearly losing her shit, and it’s all my stupid dick’s fault. I don’t want her to call off the wedding. Whatever Noel wants, Noel gets.
“All of this calmness is making me have to tinkle,” Aunt Bobbie suddenly announces, moving around us and stopping right in front of Alex. “Here, hold my purse. You can practice being a chick with a dick.”
She drapes the strap over his arm and moves back to look him up and down appraisingly. “Yep, it’s totally working for you. That bag perfectly matches your eyes. You’d make a very pretty woman.”
Alex’s cheeks flush in embarrassment as he hefts the giant Coach bag up higher on his shoulder, glancing around nervously before leaning in closer to Aunt Bobbie.
“Do you really think so? I mean, I’ve gotten compliments on my high cheekbones before and I do have slim hips…” he trails off.
“I’ll invite some of the girls over this week and we’ll give you a make-over. We can do pedicures and facials and try on each other’s clothes. We’ll make a whole night of it, and you’ll see I’m right,” Aunt Bobbie reassures him. “Now, move out of my way before I start peeing all over your leg.”
Alex moves out of the way and holds his arm out for her to pass. Aunt Bobbie pats him on the cheek and heads toward the ladies’ room.
A guy who had been standing outside the doors waiting for someone and listening in on this entire exchange, pushes away from the wall and holds up his hands in front of Aunt Bobbie, stopping her from going any further.
“You can’t go in there,” he informs her in a haughty, stick-up-his-ass-voice.
There’s a moment of silence between all of us while this guy drops his hands to cross them over his chest, spreading his legs into a wider stance to block Aunt Bobbie from going in the women’s bathroom. I think we’re all too shocked to say anything immediately, unable to believe that this stranger has appointed himself as the Target bathroom patrol. It only takes a minute for me to shake off the surprise and find my voice.
“She has to go to the bathroom. Why can’t she go in there?” I ask, hoping to God he doesn’t say what I think he’s about to say. Noel’s crazy need for calm is going to be shot to shit because I’m pretty sure things getting ugly in Target is the exact opposite of relaxing.
“My daughter is in there,” the guy growls, not taking his eyes off of Aunt Bobbie.
“And?” Noel prompts him, clearly forgetting about staying calm herself as she takes a step toward him and mirrors his pose, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring at him.
I’m not going to lie, seeing her all angry and protective of her aunt makes me want to drag her out to the parking lot, shove her in the backseat of her car, and screw the hell out of her. You know, after we put this guy in his place and Aunt Bobbie can finally take a piss.
“AND, she’s only twelve,” the guy adds, rolling his eyes at Noel before they fly back to Aunt Bobbie when she lets out a huge sigh.
“Oh, wow. Twelve, you say? There’s no way I can go in there NOW,” she tells him with a shake of her head.
“That’s what I thought,” the guy replies with a nod.
I take a step forward myself, but Aunt Bobbie lifts her arm and presses her hand against my chest to stop me from moving any closer to the guy. When she’s sure I’m not going to tackle him to the ground, she drops her hand from my chest and presses it against her heart.
“I mean, thank God you warned me. Twelve-year-old girls are the spawns of Satan. All of that PMS and hating everyone and everything…” Aunt Bobbie trails off with a shudder. “Seriously, I’m so glad you warned me. That would have been a NIGHTMARE if I went in there and had to face a she-devil before I’ve had my evening cocktail. Whew! I can’t believe I dodged THAT bullet!”
Noel and Alex both laugh at the shocked look on the asshole’s face as Aunt Bobbie turns with a flip of the long red locks of her wig, and walks away with her head held high. I have so much respect for her right now, and I wish I could let this go that easily, but I can’t. The guy’s eyes narrow angrily and he opens his mouth to most likely shout another stupid comment to Aunt Bobbie’s back.
Before anyone can stop me, and before he utters one more word, I quickly close the distance between us and punch him in the nose.
Noel screams, Alex lets out a whooping cheer, and Aunt Bobbie comes running back to us as the guy bends forward, holding his hands over his bloody nose and letting out a string of curse words that even make me blush.
?
??You should worry more about your daughter turning into a giant asshole just like you, instead of who she’s in the bathroom with,” I mutter, taking a step back and shaking out my hand.
“Don’t worry, folks! I am completely calm!” I shout as a few of the Target workers start running over to us to see what happened and Noel grabs my hand and starts examining my knuckles. “Did you see how calm I was? That felt great. I should punch people more often!”
“And that’s how you get Mister Ed back in the saddle,” Aunt Bobbie adds, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek.
“Mister Ed can go fuck himself!” I shout happily.
“Well, that’s one way to fix the problem,” she whispers loudly to Noel.
Honestly, I should probably be ashamed that I just assaulted a stranger in Target, but I’m not. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in weeks. And with Noel staring up at me with so much love and appreciation on her face, I’m also hornier than I’ve been in weeks. I know it’s only been a few days since I stopped taking those other pills, but my dick feels like it could pound nails right now. Noel is so fucking sexy that I grab her hand and start tugging her toward the doors so I can show her there’s no need to even think about canceling the wedding.
Sadly, the arrival of a few police officers puts a damper on testing out my dick.
Noel didn’t say a word on the ride home from Target. We dropped off Alex and she didn’t even crack a joke when Aunt Bobbie reminded him about their plans to girly him up later this week. As soon as we pulled into Reggie and Bev’s driveway, Aunt Bobbie jumped out of my truck and ran inside to call all her friends and tell them about what happened. We’ve been sitting here in the driveway with the truck idling, not saying a word.
“Hey, at least I didn’t get arrested right before the wedding,” I finally speak, trying to crack a joke in the hopes that it will get Noel to say something. “Your mom didn’t have to use that cake money to bail me out of jail. She’d have been forced to serve the guests a plate of Twinkies and Ho-Hos instead. I mean, if you look at it that way, I’m kind of a hero. A cake hero.”