Satisfaction Not Guaranteed

By Renee

“Oh, baby, don’t it feel good?” Tony crooned into her ear as he thrust himself into her.

Feel good? Yeah right, if any man could make her come, it surely wouldn’t be Tony. The loser. Bambi wasn’t surprised that Carol had dumped him, and Sheryl, and Lisa.

But old faithful Bambi was there for him, convenient, compliant, whenever the asshole pissed off another one of his girlfriends.

In another life, it might have bothered her – but she’d long accepted that this time around she was meant to be somebody’s sex toy – no more, no less. She felt nothing, expected nothing, wanted nothing. She stared unblinking at the ceiling as Tony pumped, his skin now slick with sweat. She wondered how she had come to this. Was this punishment for her misdeeds in a prior life? Had she been a hooker? Porn star? Adulteress?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Tony’s moans, louder and faster, as he started to come. He reared his head up, snarled like a rabid pit bull, then, with one final yelp, fell heavily on top of her, his teeth clenched onto the smooth softness of her neck.

“Ah, shit!” he yelled, ineffectually clamping his hand over the gash.

What an idiot, she thought.

Air whistled through the jagged tear as Bambi slowly deflated, the sound shrill as a woman’s derisive laughter.

Copyright © 2003 by Renee. All rights reserved.

Renee lives in Southern California with her husband and their two mischievous mutts. She writes mainly flash fiction, but attempts poetry now and then.

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