Call me Duchess

Insomnia

I lay in bed tossing and turning. Kicking my feet back and forth on the silk black sheets as I struggle to get comfortable. My mind is racing. memories of Denise and the moment we almost shared. Remnants of my husband and his cold nature spiral through my thoughts. I begin feeling regret. The night he brought home his temp assistant plays in my head louder than anything. The way he was able to make me feel powerless by dressing me in cheap garments while the woman he sleeps with is just as unappealing. He knows that I might've gotten off on watching them had I felt like myself in my normal clothes, at least I could feel, I'm superior to her. I turn over, burying my face in my pillow. I could've dismissed her lack of sex appeal had he fucked her with her dress on. But, no, he showed no remorse. I grunt and punch the pillow as these thoughts continue to overwhelm me. He could've just said no and spanked me for being insubordinate, which is what I actually wanted. But that would mean he'd have to give me what I wanted. I sigh and turn onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. I wonder why he cleaned the room. He does know me like the back of his hand. Does this mean he knew I'd likely bring someone back to our home while he's away? He trusts that I wouldn't fuck someone in our bed and figured I'd take my revenge in the same spare room that he did. Would seeing the clothes and messy bed have fueled me to hate fuck Denise, out of spite? I squirm uncomfortable with that last thought. I wouldn't do that to Denise, she's...such a nice girl. Thinking of her brings me back to a lighter state of mind. Had she made it home, is she thinking of me? Oh, who am I kidding she's definitely thinking of me. I close my eyes and focus on the first time I saw Denise:

I always hate these "Perspective student nights." I stand next to the exit, watching the parents bring their children into the gymnasium. Each teacher has set up a station for their "star students" to explain what they've learned or show off their projects from the past few weeks. The idea of this is obnoxious. "Look at what my kid did, he's the best" or "my daughter built a lava lamp out of food coloring and Alka seltzer" it's exhausting. I remember making my way through the crowd avoiding bloomy and any of the booster club members. I was strategic in my one-sided game of hide-and-seek, working my way from the refreshment table, toward the athletic department which was always full of excited parents asking about the upcoming winter sports season-then back toward the center of the crowd where parents flock to watch the volcanoes erupt. After dodging for about 10 minutes, I make my way back to the coffee table when I spot the most stunning woman. She puts her cup to her lips as she stares toward the crowd. Her hair was pulled back into a curly puff on the back of her head. She was about 5'6', petite- I recall the way she looked annoyed with having been a part of such a mundane event. Her perky breast in that plain white T, those boyfriend jeans hugging her tiny hips were underwhelming to say the least. And then, she looked at me. Her hazel eyes took me out of the room and into a place of peace. They shined like the evening sun after a stormy day, and I knew I had to bring her home. Her eyes were locked on mine, and she raises her cup at me to say "hello." There was a slight smirk on her face, and I took it upon myself to see what she could've been smirking about.

"So, which one is yours?" I said to her, motioning toward the crowd of students. "The one with the glasses and high-rise khakis. He's my nephew" she takes another sip and looks over at me only to find that I haven't taken my eyes off her. "Which one is yours?" she asked as she blushes and looks back at the crowd.

"I'm the woman in charge" I said with a coy smile. "'They're all mine" She looks over at me, her eyes wide, "Oh, you're the principle?" she asks. I nod and remain silent as I suddenly spot a glimpse of bloomy making her way through the crowd toward me. "Well, its lovely to meet you, I'm Deni- "she's interrupted by bloomy approaching quickly dead ahead. "Principal Timber! Hey, I've been looking all over for you" She shouts as she maneuvers through the remaining crowd. I repress my frustration and clinch my jaw before looking at Denise once more "well I've been spotted, if you'll excuse me" I move to meet bloomy the rest of the way. Before she reaches me, Denise grabs my hand. "Wait, umm...maybe we could get together sometime to...talk about my nephew, he's been having some trouble with- "I raise my hand to silence her. My smirk develops into a smile as I respond "if your nephew is having trouble in class there are tutoring programs in place, I'm sure any of the teachers here could help you find a good fit for him. Excuse me." I place my hand on top of hers giving it a soft pat before pulling away to face Ms. Bloom.

Thinking back on the first time we met, she never told me her name, she was cut off by bloomy. The memory makes me smile as I drift off to sleep, thinking of Denise the vixen.