Social Girl

Oblivion

Keith, the doll, left the living room lamp on for me so I'll have no problem finding my way to the shower in the guest bathroom. But before I do that, I have to gently extricate my swollen feet from the pumps I've been wearing all day. I'm past caring about the blisters that formed, burst, and tore off during the last twenty hours. Pain can be medicated and tomorrow, Keith will rub my soles in cream just like how he does every year. Pain never bothers me. I find its temporary nature undeniably appealing. What bothers me is how swollen my ankles look after a day and night like I've just had. Cankles are so pedestrian. Remembering how my legs looked floating in the air, like a couple of splayed long balloons, makes me want to scream at the Neiman Marcus clerk who I bought this pair of stilettos from. Maybe throw them at him afterwards, just in case he missed the point.

In the bathroom, I catch my gaze in the mirror. My eyes are looking particularly patriotic tonight; bright blue with specks of white showing through lines of bloodshot red.

Welcome home gorgeous. Tell me. How are you feeling now?

I squeeze four drops of Visine into each eye and then hold them shut. I mentally trace the liquid's path as it coats my eyeballs, suffocating away the blood in each. The tiny vessels gasp and pump their last traces of hemoglobin, and then wither away.

Removing the constraints from around my bursting feet has freed me. The delightful buzz that hums through my body from the tips of my toes to the top of my head isn't from drugs or alcohol. Substances don't give me this kind of satisfaction. My joyfulness stems from having been thoroughly and repeatedly nailed by someone I don't ever have to see again. Pure, painless pleasure. Well, not entirely painless. The vixen looking back at me in the bathroom mirror looks pleased with herself, before she winces in obvious discomfort and retches; I spit a mouthful of bile and vodka into the sink.

I get undressed as quickly as the spins let me, bracing myself on the vanity to keep my balance, and sit down in the bathtub. I run water from the showerhead that's so hot it makes my skin sting and turn an angry coral pink. Steam fills the room. I pass out.

Coming to, I spread my legs and crank the cold knob to bring me back to alert. Cool water does the trick and is actually soothing as it streams across my breasts, over my stomach, and down between my thighs before finishing its race to the drain. I take my pouf and lather it with all natural soap. I gently wash between my legs, wincing as the mesh catches and pulls at my sore clit.

"I suck pussy like a baby sucks tit" forgot to mention that he meant the type of infant that has teeth and likes to bite. But his tongue was on a high speed rotor, so I can't complain. I just wish he hadn't made that face and then cum all over the floor when he was done. It's that kind of despicable behavior that makes screwing at a club, private or not, feel unnecessarily dirty.

Having cleaned the stranger's scent from my skin, I wash the smell of sweat from my hair and step out of the bathroom wearing Keith's oversized bathrobe; he loves it when I wear his stuff. Clarity dispels the fog from my thoughts and I find myself feeling much better. Almost human, again. Looking toward the bedroom, where I fantasize of slipping undetected between the sheets to fall into a blissful, much-deserved sleep, I see Keith leaning against the doorway. He's watching me. His stupid-good looking face is soft and dopey. A different kind of heat courses through me. All mine.

"Hello handsome. Did I wake you? I'm such an elephant."

I glide over to him, ignoring my tender feet, and rest my hands against his chest. My face tilts upwards automatically to receive his kiss. He wraps me in his arms, ignoring that my hair's wet. He's used to my showers, something I'd be compelled to do even if I didn't have someone else's dried saliva all over my skin. I'm grateful for his strength because I can barely stand, my legs are so wobbly. Propping myself up against the bathroom tile, thighs tense and held high in the air, has turned my muscles to jelly. Blackness creeps into my vision and everything looks like a scene at the end of a long gun barrel.

"Not at all, baby. I was already awake."

"You're the worst liar," I tease, hiding another wince and waiting for my vision to stabilize by pressing my face into him. "How did it go?"

"The place was packed. Danny never made it out, so we didn't play any of our new tracks, but we made decent cash. I called before our set in case you wanted to meet up for drinks after, but I must have missed you. How was girl's night? I hope no one was too sad."

I muster a look of mild concern.

"Are you sure your call went through? I didn't see it. And you know Adrienne. She had fun."

"I bet."

I pull back from his embrace and look up into his hooded, animal brown eyes. I know I look exhausted and feel that my own eyelids are heavy, so I don't need to try very hard to appear vulnerable. My eyes water from the bright light of our bedroom behind him. A drop spills down my cheek. He wipes the tear away with his thumb and holds me close.

"I'll miss her," I say.

"You're such a good friend. Come on, let's go to bed. You need sleep, or else you're going to pass out right here."

The sight of our bed fills me with relief. Keith turns off the overhead light and gently pulls his robe from my shoulders. My nipples harden when the cool air touches them and I shiver. They're still sensitive from earlier. The aftermath of having been pinched and rolled to the beat of one pounding Adele remix after another. Keith's a Boobs Guy and whenever he sees mine he can't help but tenderly kiss each perky mound on the tip. I let him, and then I let him pull me into bed where he spoons me. He slips a thick hand between my thighs from behind, and I think about waking up to a delightfully available and ardent morning boner. Just like this morning.

I sigh, contentedly, because I got just what I wanted; I barely thought about Simon all evening.

Happy birthday to me... and I pass into oblivion.