“Why don’t you get a proper girlfriend?” She asked, taking the cigarette I lit for her and blowing a cloud of smoke across the bed.
I was still a little out of breath from our recent sexual exertions so it took me a moment to answer.
“Define proper.” I said with a half smile.
“Well…” she said turning on her side to study my expression.
Oh crap…I knew this was going to be loaded…like “does my arse look big in this or do you fancy my mate?”
“A girlfriend…you don’t have to lie about.” She looked suddenly serious.
“I don’t lie about you.”
“Omission’s still a lie…you haven’t told anyone…”
“How could I, I mean…honestly?”
“You could take a proper girlfriend to meet your mum and dad.”
“You’d really want that?”
“How do you really know what I want?” Her fingers played around my chest and she pulled a slim thigh over mine letting me feel her heat again.
“I know what you want.” My voice shocked me with its lust. I took her cigarette stubbed it out.
***
It was the next Wednesday evening…or perhaps it was Thursday, I lose track of days. She sat astride me in the passenger seat of the car, its windows steamed against prying eyes. I was close to the edge…she stopped.
“About seeing your mum and dad…”
“Oh fuck!” I groaned, feeling my erection dwindle as if ice water had been tipped on my groin.
“I thought you’d forgotten that idea,” I said, irritated.
She sat over me, dark hair framing her shadowed face where I could guess tears were forming in her eyes. “Oh shit,” I said. Crying women are a weakness of mine. A girl with tears in her eyes and hope in her tone could get me to auction my best friend. “Okay okay…I give in, I’ll try to fix up dinner with my folks at the weekend, yeah? Are you happy now?” She threw an arm around my neck and kissed me.
“I do love you.” she said.
“Prove it!”
***
Sunday was an unmitigated disaster – despite the bottle of wine we brought round as an ice breaker. It was nearly Midnight by the time I got back to the flat from the local accident and emergency unit. Dad had been moved to intensive care to recover from his heart attack and mum was in the room next door, unconscious from her stroke. I left instructions for the hospital to call me if there was a change in either their conditions.
Agrat sobbed from the darkness of the bedroom. “I’m sorry, Peter, it’s been so long, I’d forgotten how people react when they see me.” Her normally beautifully folded, leather-soft wings were hunched around her in misery.
“You’ve been a very, very naughty girl…er…she-devil…er..”
“Succubus,” she corrected me with a sniff. “Do I need to be punished?” She said, sounding more cheerful.
I thought for a moment…no need for contraception, no in-laws, no headaches, no PMT… “Too right!” I said, launching myself at the bed.
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©2010 Ash Scott-Lockyer
Ash Scott-Lockyer is an equestrian photographer, writer, and horse rider. His work ranges from horror to fantasy and include SHADOWKNIGHT, a full length, young adult fantasy novel. He is in his fifties, married, lives in East London but plays in the Essex countryside.
Website http://www.shadowtales.co.uk
Tags: Ash Scott-Lockyer
