Russian Gymnast Becomes A Lili Pod
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Sunday morning Nick took a long jog through the neighborhood. Less noise, less smog, and less people out and about. He had planned to reward himself with a cappuccino, and timed it well to being near peter out of energy, before reaching his favorite outdoor café. He dropped into an empty seat and quickly ordered his coffee and a long, tall water. He drained the water glass in one series of gulps that slaked his thirst. He inhaled the aroma of the cappuccino and then took a tentative sip, closing his eyes to savor the taste.
"Would the lady like something to drink," the waiter asked next to Nick's ear.
He sprang his eyes open and stared into the middle of Mrs. Yagablovsky's crookedly smiling face. He immediately choked and spilled coffee everywhere in an attempt to put down his cup.
"So you have always been a klutz," she cackled with amusement as Nick tried to wipe the coffee stains on his sweats.
"You poisoned me, you old bitch," Nick hissed with as much venom in his voice as he could muster.
"Would you call it 'poison' Nikolai, if that concoction led to interesting partners and some of the best sex you've ever had," she spoke calmly.
"I can't control the pain; I can't masturbate. When the poison rises, I'm totally at its mercy. To hell with the sex; you cursed me," he snarled.
She ignored him and his accusations. Her coffee arrived and she swallowed a gulp despite the steam arising from the dark brew. Nick awaited her attention.
When she looked up again he charged from a different angle, "You blew it with Elena. According to her I am a pig and she never wants to see me again."
She waggled her finger at him like his mother always did, "I did not 'blow it' with Elena, Nikolai. You were a flop because of your poor performance in bed. Apparently you rut like an animal."
Nick snorted, "That's outrageous."
"How many pages of that illustrated book of sexual positions have you read as of this morning? May I guess you are over halfway through the text?" She dropped lightly on the conversation.
Nick stopped his tongue and took a moment to reassess the woman, "You know far too much about items of which you should have no knowledge, Baba Yagablovsky."
"And you do not know enough," she retorted with a bit a heat behind her words.
Nick didn't know how to respond to that remark. He had spent the weekend wondering about his life and this new curse; about his ignorance and lack of empathy for others. His mother had called him on Saturday morning asking about his time catching up with Kimberly. She was never one for much subtlety and mentioned that Mrs. Gottfried had complained that she had a difficult time falling asleep Friday night. They both laughed but his mother concluded by warning him he should be careful how he treated people.
He called his sister and had their first real conversation of their adult lives. They giggled over his tryst with Kimberly. A first for them: they agonized over the love of the two women and what it portended for their futures. The conversation was meditative and rich in feeling. He made his goodbyes pledging to call her more often and hung up feeling substantial and solid for the first time in many years.
He also took time to consider whether he would continue boffing his secretary: the good, the bad, and the immoral. No ready conclusion emerged from his musing. He figured he wouldn't see Kimberly naked again, for his sister was serious about her. His thoughts had rambled towards the immediate future. What was going to happen two or three days hence when the poison emerged on the skin of his cock again?
He felt Baba scavenge his face for clues to his thoughts. Elena had screamed at him for staring at her like she was prey. Now he understood far too well what she meant. He decided it was time to stop all pretenses and, as Ajay advised, find out what the witch wanted.
"What do you want from me," Nick laid on the table.
"That is the first intelligent sentence out of your mouth this morning," the old crone complimented him. "Take me to lunch and we will discuss your future a bit."
She stood up to leave, forcing Nick to throw his only ten on the table and run after her to catch up. For an old biddy, she could hustle. She chose a decent restaurant with an extensive seafood menu and simply marched in, drawing the hostess after her.
"I don't have my wallet on me," Nick tried to explain after they were seated.
"Such details are trivial; you will enjoy the meal and not worry about payment. I need you to pay attention to larger, more important matters," she admonished him.
He suffered her companionship in silence as she ordered for both of them. The seafood bisque was not too buttery and chock full of items not typically on Nick's diet. He gave a weak smile when a curl of an octopus leg appeared on his spoon but he forced it down his gullet nonetheless. It didn't taste bad even if the texture was a little rubbery.
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