Nancy, Kenneth, and the Elders Part I

Based on a true story...




I sat at work fidgeting, thinking of Kenneth. He was coming today. I had to concentrate on my work; hour after endless hour of runny noses and suture removal, co-payments and lab results, worried mothers and superior doctors to schedule, collate and mollify. It was exhausting when I wasn’t distracted and horny. And my fucking dipshit husband, Paul, has to be everyman to everyman, husband came home late three nights in a row and just fell into bed beside me without a single word or casual grope and commenced snoring like Papa Bear snuggled under a fresh blanket of snow. Let’s just say, Mama Bear needed some lovin’ to warm her oven.

Kenneth was coming, tho, and I intended to rape his ass. I’d love this guy from the minute he poked his head into (goodness) my (gracious) music room(mm hmm), where I was playing a clarinet sonata sans accompanist, and grinned at me, proffering the score in his hand. I think I shouted something happy sounding, ‘cause he was soon at the piano and tickling the ivories like a not so gay Liberace, and I breathed deeply to prepare for my entrance (that’s it). I played the shit out of that piece, too, and when it was over, he just turned and beamed at me. And he was beautiful. I was in love with him. Well, not like I loved my husband when we first met, or like I love the Seahawks, but more like a deep affinity. Like, I love this person’s soul and want to share his every thought and emotion, and I want his johnson inside me, filling me up with his essence, or whatever you wanna call it.

But I was at work.

“Nancy, what did you do with Mr. Plinchkin’s file?”

Kenneth had been visiting his uncle in Oregon, but was currently Greyhounding his ass to Seattle, and me.

“Nancy.”

And my fucking vajage was getting moist thinking about his square face, and teal eyes and, medium-sized cock, so he said-

“Hello! Earth to Nancy!” Heather was waving a hand in front of my face. “I need Mr. Plinchkin’s file. It’s not in the slot.”

I put it in the slot, right?

“You put it in the slot, right?”

“Well, of course, I did.” I got up and went to the slot where I should have put it. “It’s not here.”

“Really?” Heather squinted her eyes. “You had it last.” She referred to Sigrid, who was smiling blankly and tilting her head, like a retarded Barbie doll. Sigrid did not like me, but I could have cared less. Kenneth was coming. Heather put her hand on her hip. “Are you all right, today?”

I gave her a wide-eyed, I’ve-been-telling-you-about-this look and saw the light dawn in her eyes as I made my way back to my desk and started opening drawers and hunting for the missing file. Fuck, I was getting a headache. I abandoned the search and slid my purse out from under my desk to get some ibuprofen and bent back my nail as it jammed into a file folder. What the fuck? I sat back, nonplussed, sucking on my finger. Heather sidled up to me. I gave her a pleading look, reached into my purse, again, and pulled out the dreaded Plinchkin file. “I found it.” I didn’t even try sincerity, but just resigned to being stupid, and sighed.

Heather smiled knowingly and turned to go. “Someone’s somewhere else this morning.”

I was somewhere else. I was at my favorite bar with my favorite drink and my favorite fuck fantasy by my side… I got my purse off the floor and put it on my desk. Sigrid’s tiny head snapped up. She had noticed this, the trademark sign of my imminent departure, and dared to question. No one left early. But that twenty-year-old cunt could not fathom the depths to which I would stoop to get what I wanted. I was fucking leaving and this little bitch was not getting one iota of info out of me. I shared my secrets of success with a few choice friends and this uptight-

Kenneth was coming and I was going. I checked my purse for phone, text from Kenneth, must read, and keys and wallet, slipped 20 bucks out and tucked it into my Jet cd, and sent Sigrid an evil stare. I knew from my secret suck source that this petite and darkly sexy ingénue was making up lies about me. She’d noticed my lofty status as untouchable, a position I took pains to procure and maintain, and made it her mission to topple me from my “pedestal”, as she put it. I wasn’t worried a bit. Heather and I knew it wasn’t who you knew but who you blew and each of us had our “secret santas” who loved how naughty and nice we could be. I picked up my purse and shouldered it as I shot back a nonchalant “See you tomorrow,” and sauntered to the office to sign out.

Heather was lingering by the office manager’s door pretending to not be able to fit this file into the slot. I quickened my pace a bit. Kenneth was less than an hour away. Thank Allah for cell phones, or whoever. I handed her the cd. “Here’s that band I was telling you about.”

She mumbled something vague and slipped it into her pocket. “We still meetin’ at Padre Pete’s?”

“Of course.” This was our code for meeting at our actual secret drug deal spot, Angelo’s, a seedy little dive downtown. We exchanged anything from pot to pamprin there. Tonight, Heather was supplying me with Cialis® for my evening with Kenneth. I could get it if I wanted, but people would notice and talk. Heather could get it unnoticed anytime, the bitch, I hated her. Jk, but seriously, she had it all. Looks, a sweet little family and a favorite doctor to spoil her rotten. Well, I guess I didn’t look bad for a middle-ager, and I had my darling hubby and my sweet little puppies and my favorite doctors, I just wanted it all. And Kenneth, too.

Kenneth’s plane was about to arrive, and I was at the liquor store, getting some more ingredients for my love potion, when I got the text saying he’d landed. I left that fucking cart and hit the streets. In twenty minutes, I’d be planting a juicy, wet one on his lips that was thirty years coming. And in a couple hours I’d be (oh, yeah) bumpin’ uglies with my unsuspecting, newest boyfriend.

To be continued…