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“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she continues, “So, he wanted to do it from behind, and it was great, right? But as he came and pulled out, I farted… and it was loud like echoed-in-the-room loud.”
“But isn’t that normal, the air escaping from the vag?”
“I don’t know, is it?” Emma asked, exasperated.
The door creaks and trying to pretend like we aren’t talking about this, I straighten the coasters in front of me. Thank God, it’s only Charlie.
“Okay, it’s just Charlie. She’ll tell ya it’s normal.”
“Tell who what’s normal?” She looks at us suspiciously, placing a pile of manila folders down in front of her.
“Tell Emma that fanny farting is normal,” I blurt out.
“What the hell is fanny farting?”
“Oh, Kate says that’s what Brit’s call it. You know, after a guy pulls out, and your vag sounds like it’s farting.”
Charlie nods her head, not at all surprised we are talking about this topic at this time of the morning. Over the years, Charlie has immuned herself to the stuff that comes out of my mouth. Exactly why she is my best friend.
“Oh… I see. Yeah, it happened to me once in college. I was mortified, left his dorm room, and avoided seeing him at all costs.”
“Great… that’s just the advice Emma needed.”
“Sorry, Emma… but true story,” Charlie admits with a sad smile.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, knowing Lex had spent the night at Charlie’s, and according to Kate, they are now living together. “I thought you’d be knee-deep in Lex’s love juice?”
“I still have to come into work. You think I can neglect this?” she questions, picking up a blueberry Danish, then devouring it in like two seconds. “Besides, I was knee-deep about an hour ago.”
Emma lets out a small laugh, but it only lasts a few moments before Nikki walks in, followed by Tate and Becky. Emma walks around to the other side of the table directly opposite Tate, who looks somewhat hurt at her distance. Am I missing something here? I thought they were just secret work fuck buddies.
Note to self—interrogate Emma tonight at spin class.
Nikki begins the meeting, and like nothing has changed, I sit back with a big smile on my face, taking down the minutes, enjoying this moment before anything else decides to change.
The rest of the week is pretty much the same, except for Tuesday night. I’m well aware that Charlie is distracted and tries to seek comfort in others, and when I say ‘others,’ I mean I screwed my ex again.
Okay, yes, what the fuck was I thinking?
I mean, I caught him blowing another guy, and let me tell you, I have no idea what he saw in him. He has a dad bod—isn’t cut up at all. In fact, I may have seen a hint of man boob. Nevertheless, it still was a blow to my ego, excuse the pun. As soon as he shot all over me, I knew I had made a massive mistake.
So, to get over a bad mistake laced with complete regret, I blow Miguel, this gorgeous waiter I’d been eyeing for a while at Tapas on Tenth. Now, when I say gorgeous, I’m talking Henry-Cavill-spank- you-in-the-face-with-his-cock gorgeous.
But there’s one problem. It’s huge, and I don’t mean his cock. That’s huge, of course, like he puts donkeys to shame, but this one problem is, well, let’s just say not appetizing. Normally, I’d be straight on the phone to Charlie dissecting this particular situation, but tonight, Lex is taking her out to dinner, and well, I don’t think he will appreciate me calling up Charlie to discuss my epic blow job fail.
Again, change is definitely not my friend.
So, the week from hell sees me hitting up social media more. Same old desperados trying to grab any sort of attention they can. I find myself tweeting a few hotties. One, in particular, is this guy ‘The Bone Ranger.’ He’s funny, his profile pic is of this cowboy hat. Ding, ding, ding. I’m picturing this guy wearing only chaps sitting naked on a horse. He’s into role play. It’s just fun, right? Until he sends me a direct message, and we get to chat more. He’s into the same stuff I like, is a giver, and so I find myself obsessively messaging him every spare moment I have.
I’m yet to get sight of the goods, but let’s face it, I’m shallow.
This will be a deal-breaker.
***
“Good evening, Master Kennedy.”
Seeking solace in the familiar, I decide to visit my mother. Entering the building, I greet Gerard, the doorman, and make my way to the elevator. As soon as I exit, Malcolm, my parents’ butler, greets me at the door. I love Malcolm like a grandfather, but honestly, the whole ‘Master’ thing should be kept in the bedroom alongside a crop and ball gag.
