Wallbanger(2)

“Stil nothing, huh, O?” I sighed, looking down. During month four of The Missing O, I’d started to talk to my O as though she were an actual

entity. She felt real enough when she was rocking my world back in the day, but sadly, now that O had abandoned me, I wasn’t sure I’d recognize

her if she saw her. ’Tis a sad, sad day when a girl doesn’t even know her own orgasm, I thought, looking wistful y out the window at the San Francisco skyline.

I unfolded my legs and padded to the sink to rinse out my coffee mug. Placing it in the sink to drain, I pushed my light blond hair back into a

sloppy ponytail and surveyed the chaos that surrounded me. No matter how wel I planned, no matter how wel I labeled those boxes, no matter how

often I told that idiot moving guy that if it said KITCHEN it did not belong in the BATHROOM, it stil was a mess.

“What do you think, Clive? Should we start in here or the living room?” He was curled up on one of the deep windowsil s. Admittedly, when I

was scouting new places to live, I always looked at the windowsil s. Clive was fond of looking out on the world, and it was nice seeing him waiting

for me when I came home.

Right now he looked at me, and then seemed to nod toward the living room.

“Okay, living room it is,” I said, realizing I’d only spoken three times since waking up this morning, and every word uttered had been directed at

a pussy. Ahem…

About twenty minutes later Clive had started a stare-off with a pigeon and I was sorting DVDs when I heard voices in the hal way. My noisy

neighbors! I ran to the door, almost tripping over a box, and pressed an eye to the peephole only to see the doorway across the hal . What a pervert

I am, honestly. But I made no attempt to stop peeping.

I couldn’t see very clearly, but I could hear their conversation: the man’s voice low and soothing, fol owed by unmistakable sighing from his

companion.

“Mmm, Simon, last night was fantastic.”

“I thought this morning was fantastic too,” he said, planting what sounded like one hel uva kiss on her.

Huh. They must have been in another room this morning. I hadn’t heard a thing. I pressed my eye back to the peephole. Dirty pervert.

“Yes, it was. Cal me soon?” she asked, leaning in for another kiss.

“Of course, I’l cal you when I’m back in town,” he promised, swatting her on her bottom as she giggled again and turned away.

It seemed she was on the short side. Bye-bye, Spanx. The angle was wrong for me to see this Simon, and he was back in his apartment

before I could get any sort of sense of him. Interesting. So this girl does not live with him.

I hadn’t heard any “I love yous” when she left, but they did seem very comfortable. I chewed absently on my ponytail. They’d have to be, what

with the spanking and al .

Pushing thoughts of spanking and Simon from my mind, I went back to my DVDs. Spanking Simon. What a great name for a band…I moved

on to the Hs.

An hour later I was just placing Wizard of Oz after Willy Wonka when I heard a knock. There was scuffling in the hal way as I approached the

door, and I stifled a grin.

“Don’t drop it, you idiot,” a sultry voice chided.

“Oh, shut up. Don’t be so damn bossy,” a second voice snapped back.

Rol ing my eyes, I opened the door to find my two best friends, Sophia and Mimi, holding a large box. “No fighting, ladies. You’re both pretty.” I

laughed, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Ha ha. Funny,” Mimi answered, staggering inside.

“What the hel is that? I can’t believe you guys carried it up four flights of stairs!” My girls did not do manual labor when they could get someone

else to do it.

“Believe me, we waited outside in the cab for someone to walk by, but no luck. So we schlepped it ourselves. Happy housewarming!” Sophia

said. They set it down, and Sophia fel into the easy chair by the fireplace.



“Yeah, quit moving so much. We’re tired of buying you stuff.” Mimi laughed, lying down on the couch and placing her arms over her face

dramatical y.

I poked at the box with my toe and asked, “So what is it? And I never said you had to buy me anything. The Jack LaLanne Juicer was not

necessary last year, truly.”

“Don’t be ungrateful. Just open it,” Sophia instructed, pointing at the box with her middle finger, which she then turned upright and displayed in

my general direction.

I sighed and sat on the floor in front of it. I knew it was from Wil iams Sonoma, as it had the tel tale ribbon with the tiny pineapple tied to it. The

box was heavy, whatever it was.

“Oh, no. What did you two do?” I asked, catching a wink from Mimi to Sophia. Pul ing at the ribbon and opening the box, I was pleased as