Christina had invited Edward over for Scrabble and, he hoped, sex. But after four moves, things were tense. Not for Christina, she was ecstatic as she laid down her tiles. Her lips parted in a triumphant smile to reveal shockingly white teeth set in a perfectly shaped alabaster face. “B-U-R-L-E-S-K,” she spelt the letters as she lay the tiles down, crossing Edward’s C-H-E-E-S-E, about which he was very proud, at the S. And as she placed the final tile, her décolletage was sufficiently visible from Edward’s perch across the table that he caught a clear view from Christina’s clavicles to her sternum beset on either side by bulbous and, he couldn’t help think, expensive looking breasts. To him, Christina was the stencil of female beauty. She was real hot mustard and her skin reminded him of the very nice Natuzzi white leather sofa his stepmom had in her den and that he had once, as a hobbledehoy, penetrated, humping the crack between the sofa back and the seat cushions until he came on pennies long lost, his sister’s hairbrush and pens too numerous to mention. And yet, none of this mattered at the moment.
“Burlesk isn’t a word,” he said, haughtily. As full of lust as he was, the Hasbro hallakhah could be broken for no man nor woman.
“Actually,” Christina said, “it is.”
“Nope. B-u-r-l-e-s-q-u-e is a word but not b-u-r-l-e-s-k.”
“Are you challenging me?” Christina asked challengingly.
Edward hesitated for a moment. There are times in a man’s life when what might be right might be wrong and vice versa. But there are also times in a man’s life when he must sacrifice love at the altar of correct spelling. This, Edward decided already rueing a night of missed spoon-fuck-cuddle-fucking, was the latter.
“Yup. I challenge.”
Christina said, “Ok, I’ll tell you what. If burlesk is a word, not only do you lose a turn, but you have to do exactly what I ask, no matter what the request.”
Edward replied, “Deal.”
Burlesk it turns out isa word, a variant of burlesque, also a word. And because Christina Scrabble-bingoed with burlesk and because the K was on a double letter tile and the L fell on a double word tile, Christina earned 36 plus a 50 points bonus. Edward was beat, beet red with shame. Christina said, “Now, you must do as I say.”
Edward said, “Whatever.”
Christina said, “Come with me.”
Edward said, “Ok”
Christina led Ed toward her bed and across it she lay and bade Ed mount her. “Dry hump me,” she said sternly.
Edward, to whom a better command could not be imagined, eagerly slipped off his loafers, and joined Christina on the bed. They had kissed once before, at Union Pool, but it had been drunken and sloppy and beside, everyone knows that kisses at Union Pool mean nothing. But this was different. When Edward and Christina’s mouths met, both germs and affection passed between them. Though white blood cells immediately attacked the germs, the affection spread, invading nearly every cell in their host bodies. They kissed and kissed until it was a little boring but Edward, already burnt by burlesk, was too timid to take the next step. Christina, spurned by burlesque conversely, ordered Ed to touch her bosom, over the shirt and Ed did so. “Moan,” moaned Ed. “Sigh,” sighed Christina.
Soon Ed had a cockstand that rubbed uncomfortably against the inside of his jeans, for they were cheap jeans and the zipper wasn’t properly covered with fabric from the inside. He had had it before and, then too too timid to complain, had suffered horrendous chaffing on his cock to the point of visible abrasion.
“Um, can I take off my pants?” he asked.
Christina said he could. She too took off her pants and her underpants; her shirt and her undershirt; her bra and her Wonderbra. Ed just had his pants off but his shirt on. And a fedora.
There was little to do at this stage except have sex. Ed caressed Christina’s breasts with both hands. “I like how you caress,” said Christina, “and refer to my breasts as breasts and not as tits. That’s romantic.” Edward was feeling romantic. Then he slid his hard cock into Christina’s yielding pussy, was met with little resistance, indeed welcomed was he as a liberator.
They had sex for approximately 18 minutes at the end of which Christina shuddered and clenched her vaginal muscles in orgasmic release. Edward, who had been delaying orgasm by thinking of all the two-letter Scrabble words he knew, also achieved orgasm.
Strangely, post-coitally, nothing was awkward. They felt instead they had done something right. Edward put his pants but not shoes on and Christina wrapped herself in her aftersex robe. They wandered back hand-in-hand to the Scrabble board. After five moves, Christina had a major lead but Edward had had a major idea during coitus. When the game resumed, he had a plan. “M-A-C-A-N-D” he placed the tiles deliberately on the board.
“Mac and Cheese, can that count as one word?” he asked, grinning.
Christina rolled her eyes, playfully. “Well if it doesn’t, you have to do exactly what I ask, no matter what the request.”
Edward smiled and said, “Deal.”
Submitted by a male drummer, Brooklyn, commissioned on the occasion of his girlfriend’s birthday.