"Devil in the Flesh"

Beatriz sits on the edge of her claw-foot tub and listens to Magdalene as she stands at the sink, nude, singing some Cajun song while smoking and shaving her armpits gingerly with a razor blade.

She’s waiting to use the sink and Magdalene takes her time, not that Beatriz really minds. She likes to hear Magdalene sing, her voice is mellifluous and comforting, low in a whisper not meant to be sultry but is.

She concentrates on the bottle of Skintimate in front of the mirror of the sink, trying to distract her eyes and prevent them from gawking at her friend’s brazen nudity.

Magdalene’s body itself is a distraction, even though she has seen it numerous times before.

She is tone and more sinewy than Beatriz, shorter, her bust smaller than Beatriz due to her smaller frame, her rosy-tipped breasts just the perfect size for her.

Beatriz appreciates her own bust, but has always felt slightly self-conscious about its ampleness. When they first developed she hardly thought about them and was then surprised when they seemingly blossomed from a C to a Double-D cup overnight. They at first made her feel freakish or deformed; noticing that all the girls the boys wanted were less ample, then gradually accepted herself when she realized boys were pieces of shit.

But even now there appeared to be a stigma to having large breasts, especially in an age of extreme makeovers and girls going through the trouble of slicing themselves up and implanting potentially dangerous substances in their body just so they just so a dress or bikini fits better or they want some asshole guy’s attention.

Catty, A-cupped breasted bitches sniffed their noses up at you like your tits were fake and automatically made you out to be some lowly whore and obnoxious men thought you were cheap and easy just because you can’t help that your shirt fits snugly.

Her eyes drift further down and she notices a downy strip of fiery red above the lips of Magdalene’s vulva.

“What is that about?” she thought aloud.

Magdalene stops her low singing and pauses her grooming momentarily to regard Beatriz from the mirror.

“Ya don’ like da way Ah shave, shug?” the angel drawls.

“I’m just curious about that cunt Mohawk ya got going there.”

She had seen, in a few recent movies added to her collection and some glimpses of centerfolds, that it was becoming a very popular style to give your mound an exclamation point. She felt it was kind of silly.

Magdalene just looked down briefly to check it out and then went back to her shaving after shrugging.

“Ah dunno, jes da way Ah do it.”

The patch looked soft and she had the fleeting thought to how it really felt. She wanted to touch it, and she was sure Magdalene would let her without thought, but it might be awkward to say to a friend: “Hey buddy, may I pet your pubic hair?” and even more awkward if they went, “Sure, go ahead.”

That’s how some movies start…

Magdalene cleans herself up and goes off to bed and Beatriz washes her face and brushes her teeth. She showers but puts on her pajamas of an old tee shirt and some broken in sweat pants.

Minino greets her as she exits the bathroom but then goes into the living room when she makes her way to the kitchen. She has a taste for something sweetly tart again and drains her glass of juice in two swallows, then joins Minino in the living room.

She comes out of the kitchen and enters the living room when she could swear her heart beat a million beats before stopping in her throat, now dry again.

There sitting on the couch, playing and petting Minino is a muscular framed man, his handsome face decorated with rough looking stubble along the jaw, short black waves of hair combed immaculately, dressed in a navy blue tailored suit.

She attempts to speak, but his gravelly voice wafts throughout the room, still with his attention on his new feline friend.

“Little thing is very playful, ain’t he?”

“Yeah,” she says shakily, then takes a breath, clears her throat and repeats more assured.

“What’s her name?”

“His name is Minino.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Pussycat.” she leans against the doorframe, arms folded on her chest, watching.

He chuckles.

“Cute.”

Her mind races with questions but are soon forgotten as she becomes mesmerized with the way he rubs Minino on his tummy and how much he purrs and tries to bite at his hand to show his appreciation. She feels strange and then realizes that she’s jealous of the attention he’s giving her cat.

Goddamn you, David.

Finally, for the first time in a long time, he directs his pale blue eyes on her and molds his slit-like mouth into a grin worthy of a wolf’s.

She just felt herself melt at the sight of that.

“He’s friendly than you, y'know.”

He doesn’t know you quite as well as I do.

She wanted to say that but, “He depends on the kindness of strangers.” came out instead.

“So, how are ya, babe?”

“I’ve been fine, you?”

“Peachy.”

She thinks back to when she drank tea with Magdalene last week and how similar David and Magdalene are. They’re both in love with her, Maggie in a protective sisterly way, David in a possessively obsessed way.

“What are you doing here?”

“Business. I own my own federation and we have a show in town. Thought I’d look you up.”

After all these months.
Lucky me.

“I meant, that in as, how did you get in here.”

His grin broadens.
She feels her face mimic his half-heartedly.

She wants to fuck him until she aches.
And more than likely he feels the same.

“Oh, I have my ways.”

I’m so sure you do.

She just nods and hopes that Magdalene is sleeping. If she comes in and finds him here…

“Why don’t ya join me over here? You know I don’t bite.”

No you don’t, you nibble. That recalls some pleasant bittersweet thoughts.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He shrugs.

“That would be cordial of you.”

She practically runs to the kitchen for solace, feeling relieved to be away from him, if only for a moment, and stands at the counter, mentally cursing herself for being awkward and nervous and cursing him for making her feel like this.

She’s not even in there for a second before she feels, then hears his presence walking up behind her and freezes when his arms hug around her waist and his body press against hers.

This isn’t happening, not happening, he’s an apparition…

His chin rest on her shoulder and his voice is a husky whisper. He’s gone serious now.

“Beatriz,” he says it the way it should be said and it sends warm tingles throughout her, “I never considered myself a smart man or even a clever man, but I think I know when I’m getting the cold shoulder. Why do I get the idea that you’re trying to avoid me?”

Because I am.
Because you’re no good for me.
Because I’m a masochist and you’re a sadist.
Because you tempt me when you know I’ll give in.
Because I don’t want my heart to hurt again.

That’s what she wants to say, but instead she feels herself shrug.

“I missed you, babe. I did you wrong, I know, but don’t do this to me.”

Yeah, y’know what I should do to you?

He kisses her neck, the stubble roughly tickling the sensitive skin and she just surrenders.

His warm, calloused, large hands glide their way under her thin shirt and advance up her goosebumpy skin, cautiously, to her breasts and slowly begin to knead them until the nipples harden.

Her eyes close and her head falls back against his shoulder when he pinches the buds and rolls them between his fingers.

“David…” she moans and writhes slightly at his touch, her body comes alive with sensations and a warm dampness begins to seep from between her thighs.

She nuzzles against his stubble and he nibbles and sucks on her neck. One hand slides away from her breast and slithers under her waistband and caresses the skin in her pelvic region and he makes a chuckling noise when it shudders.

She anticipates the touch of his fingers on her patch and she feels a growl rumble in his chest but is disappointed when both hands suddenly stall.

Oh, fuck you, asshole.

Her head comes back up and her eyes open.

Magdalene is standing in the second doorway, dressed in a satin camisole and matching drawers, her mouth amused, but her eyes are fierce.

“Get out, dyke.” David has taken his hands off of Beatriz, much to her dismay and displeasure and hugs her waist to him again.

Magdalene tilts her head and regards the object of her ire with disdain and snorts.

“Léche moi et fait moi jouir, ordure.” she speaks coolly.

“Fuck off.”

“Bite.” she sticks her tongue out at him, taunting.

David tears away from Beatriz and lunges toward his nemesis, but Beatriz gets in front of him and holds him while Magdalene stands firm. She looks over her shoulder at her.

“Maggie, please go away.” she tries to say it in the gentlest way possible to extract any of the sting in the words.

“Of course, but only bay-cuz you axed me to go.” and with that, she turns around and saunters away to her room.

Beatriz lets David go but he snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her to him.

“I really hate her.”

“I know you do.”

“I’m gunna go now, but I’ll still be in town until tomorrow. I’m staying at the Verona Hotel in the El Rey Suite.”

She nods, lost in his eyes.

“Ok.”

“Please come see me.”

“I’ll try.”

But they both know she’ll be there.

He sweetly kisses and hugs her before reluctantly breaking away.

“And don’t make me wait, babe.”

“I won’t.”