Keeping Abreast

Keeping Abreast

“Can’t we spend a weekend like a normal couple?”
“What do you mean, of course we do and besides what’s normal?”
“Reading a book in the park on a sunny day is normal. Staring at every pair of tits passing by is not.”
“I’m not staring at anything, I’m reading my…”
“Don’t give me that bull. I’ve been watching you. You haven’t turned a page in over 15 minutes.”
“I have a question for you. Why do they call them tits?”
“Stop changing the subject and focus on your reading.”
“Did you know that a tit is a small songbird?”
“No I didn’t.”
“Well I’m not interested in small songbirds or, for that matter, small breasts.”
“Do you know you’re an ass?”
“I’ve been told that.”
“Do you like your book?”
“What book? Oh yeah it’s great, fantastic descriptions of the female characters.”
“So aren’t you satisfied with my boobs?”
“I like them. I like them a lot.”
“So stop looking at other women.”
“Remember just because you own a Picasso doesn’t mean you can’t look at a Rembrandt.”
“So you own me?”
“Why do woman refer to their breasts as a stupid person?”
“What are you talking about?”
“A boob is a stupid person. Personally I wouldn’t describe such a beautiful body part by such a derogating word, a boob.”
“You really are a male body part, a dick.”
“So you’ve told me in the past. On behalf of all men, I thank you for the compliment.”
“I figured you would.”
“Some men look at asses, some are into hair. I know some guys that focus solely on a woman’s smile.”
“What about a woman’s brain? Don’t they count for something?”
“It’s real hard to fuck brains. It’s the hard cranium thing.”
“You can’t fuck breasts.”
“Well you can if you’re creative and the cleavage is big enough.”
“You’re a pig.”
“That’s a new one.”
“So enlighten me, why do men look at woman’s…what should I call them?”
“How ’bout bosom, mammary glands, humps, bumps, bazookas, rockets, bust, the balcony, grapefruit…”
“That’s it I’m out of here. You’re truly an immature moron.”
“But dear you didn’t let me explain…”
“I don’t care. See you later at home. Fend for yourself for dinner.”

Why should she to ruin my enjoyment of such a beautiful summer Sunday? It didn’t take a moment before I spied upon a beautiful young lady wearing a pink two piece bathing suit sunning herself on a nearby towel. And over there were the perkiest pair of tits I have ever seen and her face wasn’t bad either. No wait look at those. That woman walking near the fence in the NYC t-shirt is braless. Her tits are enormous. If she started running, she’d knock herself out. Who needs a book, this is nirvana.

The hours passed and the pedestrian parade continued. As the sun’s angle edged closer to the top of the trees lining the western perimeter of the great lawn, the sun bathers started rolling up their blankets and leave the park. By now the walkers were also diminishing in number. It was time to face the music at home.

Exiting the park I decided it was best to extend an olive branch so I called home with the intent of asking her about dinner. No answer. I then tried her cell phone also to no avail. I continued home.

I reached for the doorknob and found it locked. She’s still out? That’s odd even for her. On Sunday evenings she always wants to be home early to mentally organize herself for the next business day. Taking the keys from my pocket I unlocked the door. Inside I heard the TV set blaring in the bedroom. I called her name and got no response. Now I knew she was still pissed at me.

With trepidation I walked down the hall. You never know what she’s prone to do. Once again I called out her name and was greeted with the same response. Into the bedroom I venture to find her sitting on the bed with her laptop studying a spreadsheet.

“Hi. Did you eat?”
No response.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
No response.
“Can I turn down the TV?”
No response.
It’s warm in here do you want me to turn up the a/c?”
No response.
“Alright, I’m sorry for being so rude this afternoon.”
“It took you 4 hours to come up with that!”
“Well…”
“You weren’t just rude you were being a dick, a prick, a dildo, a schmuck, a banger with mash, a woody, a bad member, a ten pin with balls, a Johnny….”
“Okay I get the picture you’re…”
“No I’m not finished. Did I say mini-submariner? How ’bout pig in a blanket or cocktail wiener?”

With that I walked from the room. My pillow zoomed passed my head. The door was slammed behind me. Click went the lock.

Passing the open linen closet, I reached in to grab two sheets to prepare my impromptu bed or should I say the living room sofa. I turned on the TV as I placed my watch, my wallet and my change from my pocket neatly on the coffee table. The clothing I just threw onto the carpet making a heap.

With the sheets now stretched over the couch I nudged my way between them and settled in for night. This wasn’t so bad. I had the remote and easy access to refrigerator. And what could be better there was a west coast Yankee game about to start. The only problem was the heat. Even with the a/c on the room was very warm, uncomfortably warm. As the game progressed into the 3rd inning I thought I’d soon fall asleep. Then the 4th, the 5th, the 6th, seventh inning stretch. I simply couldn’t fall asleep due to the heat.

Finally it hit me. I still had the sleeping pills the Doctor prescribed before my trip to Italy. Two of those and I should be out real soon. But what about the morning, I have no alarm clock. Simple, she leaves at 6 and she’s always noisy enough to wake me, leaving me ample time to get myself ready to leave.

Two down with a shot of cold water should do the trick. And they did.

Ah. What was that? Where am I? What time is it?

The sun was beaming down onto my face. There was the sound of the neighbor’s baby crying down the hall. That seemed odd for her to be in the hallway this early. I called out my wife’s name and got no response. Is she still pissed at me? I reached over for my watch. Something felt odd but maybe it was the way I slept. With the watch in my hand I attempted to focus. 10:13 AM. Holy shit I guess those pills really worked! I jumped up and immediately realized that something was weighing me down. And then I saw them; a pair of tits hanging from my chest. Now I’m not talking perky little boobs, I’m talking double D’s. They must have weighed 5 pounds each. How does a woman do it? I grabbed at one trying to remove it to no avail. I tried the other one. They were on tight.

My cell phone rang. I grabbed it and saw her number on the readout.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Is that anyway to talk to your wife?”
“I don’t give a damn you need to help me remove these…”
“You must be referring to your new body parts.”
“I don’t find this funny. I’m already late for a meet…”
“Well dear, calm down, go into the bedroom, on my dresser you’ll find the remedy to your dilemma.”
“Dilemma? This is neither a dilemma nor a joke. I’m almost there. Okay where on your dresser?”
“Right next to the latex adhesive is the…”
“Where? What?”
“It’s next to the bottle.”
“All I see is a bra.”
“You see, that was easy, you found it.”
“Found what?”
“The new piece of clothing to hold your tits, your boobs, your rack, your humps, your bumps, should I go on, your grapefruit.”
“How do I get these things off?”
“You can’t unless you use the adhesive remover. The woman at the store said this glue is particularly strong and should adhere for a few days.”
“So where’s the remover?”
“In the store and, I believe, they open at…2 PM.”
“What am I supposed to do until then?”
“Well you can either go to your office or you
can head downtown to the transgender store to wait until they open. Either way you’re going to be the brunt of a lot of staring, laughs, and lewd comments.”
“I don’t find this funny.”
“I didn’t f
ind you funny yesterday.”
“You went too far.”
“I just had a thought; it’s beautiful outside, how about a picnic lunch? I’ll pick up a few sandwiches and you can bring a blanket.”
“Ha, ha.”
“A few of the women in the office would love to see you.”
“You told people what you did?”
“Of course I did. They all think you deserved it.”
“Who else did you tell?”
“I told…oh I forgot to mention, I asked the building super to come up in at 10:30 to fix the drip in the master bathroom.”
“I just won’t let him in.”
“No problem I left him the key. So you better get dressed or you can go au natural.”

I heard the front door open and I had no place to hide.

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No Responses to “Keeping Abreast”

  1. nonanonymous says:

    Mega-intersted to read about how this develops.

    creative and well written!

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