Vache d'Or - part 6

This is a serial short story. Check below to begin it - you know the drill. And then comment.


A blast of scalding water hit Frank from four directions in the special two-person honeymoon shower. He let out a howl of pain. “Jesus Fucking Christ, CeeCee. What kind of a man do you think I am?” He glanced down. “Besides permanently disabled?” He pushed the shower door open and stumbled out.

Charlene stood with her arms akimbo in front of him. “Who is she?” she asked again.

“Who’s who?” Frank ran cold water over a face cloth and gently wrapped his penis in it. He let out a sigh. “We may never be able to have sex again after that, CeeCee.”

“If you don’t tell me who she is, you may never be able to have sex with anyone again, Sweetie.”

Frank turned the cold water on in the bidet and lowered himself into the stream, his back to his bride. “If this doesn’t take care of it, I’m calling nine one one for an ambulance. And then the cops. You maimed me.”

“Stop whining,” Charlene said. “You brought this on yourself, fucking around with that little slut.”

“Come on, CeeCee,” Frank said. He stood from the bidet. “Look, the red is gone and I’m fine. It’s our wedding night, we’re encore virgins.” He formed his face into a loving smile. “Let’s consummate this marriage.”

“Encore? Reruns are more like it. Wear a rubber. I don’t want any diseases from that little slut you were fucking around with.”

“Come on, Cee Cee. Charlene dearest. It’s our wedding night.” He reached out his hand to his wife’s left breast.

She pushed his hand away. “Admit it! Who was she?” Charlene closed her eyes a moment to think. “It was Toni, wasn’t it? I know it was.”

“It wasn’t Toni. I had a fling. It didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t go without sex for six weeks. You know that. I’m a man.” Frank lowered his voice and growled when he said “man.” Usually CeeCee melted when he did that.

She ignored him. “Get out. Sleep in the car. Rent another room. Go fuck yourself. I don’t care.” Charlene threw his slacks, a shirt, and the car keys at him. “I knew you were too good to be true.”

Frank whimpered. “But I love you CeeCee.” He opened his arms to hug her.

She pointed at the door.

He sighed. “I need my shoes, too.” He ducked, then picked them up and found the car in the parking lot.

The next morning his phone woke Frank. He had finally found his way into sleep in the sedan by crawling into the back seat and tucking his knees under his chin, folding his jacket into a pillow and twisting his arms under his ear. He had set the phone to silent, but it was in his front pants pocket and had slid to just over his crotch. The vibrations stimulated his morning tumescence. He blinked his eyes in the early morning sun that shone directly into the car and fumbled for the phone.

What I wouldn’t give for a bed and a cup of coffee, he thought. He opened the phone and read the text message: Bad nuz. Cl me. Now. He didn’t recognize the number, but Jason lost his phone a month ago. It was probably him. Frank hit redial and put the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring he heard a voice.

“Frank? It took you long enough. Like I told you yesterday, I’m pregnant. It’s yours. What you gonna do?”

“Who is this?” Frank asked.