Oh, Lord me, have I had a wonderful fete for my two friends, Lady Lynda and Auntie Carol, my two “married lady friends”. It was High Tea with silver urn and Earl Grey tea (what else would I use) and the daintiest painted tea cups depicting erotic scenes from Greek mythology. I am The Black Orchid, really, who else could this be.
The food was a delight, I tell ye, with the sweet things all baked by me. Miniature fruit pies, bursting with lush tastes, a large yellow orange Cointreau cake, scones, and all manner of pastries, petit fours, vanilla and chocolate with frosting roses of red and yellow. All of them resting on chartreuse pastry envelopes. Later on there was champagne not too dry with a hint of fruity sweetness. I abhor dry champagne: It tastes like medicinal mouthwash! We had our party on my glassed in porch where we could see the flowering plants, of pink, yellow, purple, red and indigo (morning glories). The trees swayed in the playful wind, a symphony of greeness. And the little yellow birds drank from my Cupid bird bath. They tend to fluff their feaathers out like little cotton puffs for no good reason at all.
The girls, Las Cabronas, were all at their part-time jobs as nurse assistant trainees, jobs I had acquired for them. Need I remind you that I have taken all these
unfortunate girls under my protection and largesse to live with me in my mansion for as long as they need shelter until they are ready to go out on their own.
The Theme of the party was “Fellini Women” and we each came as a character out of a Fellini film. I chose to be Graciana out of Amacord, the lady in red and I wore a tight black bustier to push up my meager little, nectarine breasts up as I am a panther not a sow. I wore no underwear as I believe Graciana would want to let her pudenda breathe. Lady Lynda came as a character out of La Strata, the meek little Strumphet with the Trumphet. One of literature’s abused women yet so yearning and poignant. Auntie Carol, who had put on quite a bit of weight, came as the Tobbacanist, a busting, bouyant, sexual character with a lust for young pubescent boys. I wonder if she ever saw Amacord: my guess is she had not. I was happy, so happy to have my good, true friends near me and also as Graciana, I wore all red and red makes me deliriously happy for no good reason at all. I am a creature of moods, Lord knows. I spoke all in Italian and my two erudite friends knew the language as well. Bellisima, I must say. I kissed them both on the lips upon arrival as is the ancient European custom and slipped in some tongue just to confuse them for they know I love women as well as men though men are my stated preference. One must always have a little wickedness in life.
They, being married, were no longer
the untainted maidens of yore and I was curious as to what they had learned about life and men. I noted Auntie carol’s ass looked like two pups fighting in a gunny sack. Unseemly! When I mentioned this, she replied that she was just “pleasingly plump”. I told her it was more like a field gone to fallow.
Then Lady Lynda piped up and said, “Seymour cannot abide fat women, so I keep my weight down. I do not want to look like a Juniper croissant nor a manatee. You should do something, my dearest. A good woman is like the Biblical Ruth and must cleave to her man and fulfill his every desire… unless, of course, it defies physical law. A little bon mot for you, my darling.”
I am all about breaking physical law when it comes to love making. I do all The Minotaur asks of me, my one true love. I am fortunate to be limber as a contortionist. Like water I have learned to flow. I can play the role of either man or woman. But these revelations did not trip lightly from my lips as I did not want to offend “My Lovelies”. Tell the truth, but don’t always be telling it as Lady Lynda is wont to say.
“Ye Sly Bitches,” I said when we were all outrageously drunk, “How are Ye liking the cock, as it were?”
Auntie Carol held out her hands about seven inches, and threw back her head laughing. Lady Lynda did the same only a greater length and laughed her ass off.
I said,”What has the liquor made you both mute?” I said. “Do Ye Serendipitous Sluts take it from the back yet?”
“Oh, Heavens, no”, said Auntie Carol, “The priest says the missionary position is the only Godly way and to never put foreign objects in ones mouth that are not nutricious.”
“Now, I know Ye are lying, Bitch,” I said. “You married a hermaphrodite, both man and woman. Do Ye mean to tell me uou don’t go down on the pussy, or do you ignore it like an unwanted and filthy appendage? And how can a person tell you how to ride a bicicle if he has never ridden one himself. Do not go to a Catholic priest for sexual advice, My Dear.”
Lady Lynda interjected, “I let Seymour go up my backside on his birthday, I deign to say. Though between us I don’t think Audrey Hepburn, my idol, would ever do that. I feel so ashamed. I am an Ungodly whore! Oh, my!”
“Well, I guess I could try it. Does it hurt?” asked Auntie Carol.
“Ye Silly Cunt, It depends on which hole he puts it in,” I said. “I shall give Ye the Wisdom of the Ages, Ye Little Wenches. Your man awaits the day you become a wild woman, A Goddess of Lust. Eat radishes and raw vegetables. allow no red meat to pass your lips. Run ten miles a day and become a beast. There are no fat wild animals. Wear lingerie with the tender parts cut out with colors of the field, red, black, pink, purple. Ye must act to keep your man (or woman
as the case may be) satisfied. Come on as a kitten and finish as a tigress. Auntie Carol, Ye must shed that fat. He could make love between the folds of your fat and never be the wiser. Be a tart, Be Lady Chatterly, be Ruth and cleave unto your man. Through the stomach is not they way to a man’s heart, My Darlings. And secondly, a woman should be erudite, read philosophy and literature. No man likes a tabula rosa. Ye are not inert, a vegatable. Some people think putrescent pearls, dazzling diamonds and designer clothes convey identity.
This is merely ornamentation or as it were, icing on the cake. Oh, heed me, Lovely Ladies for I have your best interests in my heart.”
“And we love you too, Black Orchid.” said Auntie Carol who had brought two books with her, Plato’s Republic and the works of The Marquis de Sade.
“Oh, that rank bastard. Would that I had made love to him. I would have
broke his back,” and I laughed my ass off, such as it was.
Lady Lynda and Auntie Carol laughed too as ladies are wont to do, not too loud nor too raucuous. Like the tinkling of littlle silver bells. And all was splendid.
CAROL ANN writer of Poems of Thunder (Noir&Whimsy) @Amazon &BN.com