She was a much older woman, and maybe I liked that. As she walked towards me, seductively stripping off one article of clothing at a time, her eyes in full bed-room mode, I had to admit my heart quickened. But enough was enough.

“Suzee,” I back away rapidly from the advancing woman. “This has to stop. I don’t like you like that.”

“Oh baby,” pouncing forward she grabbed hold of my shirt collar. “Don’t say that. You know you want it just as bad as I do. And I could show you such a good time,” she licked her lips in an exaggerated manner, making me cringe.

“Doesn’t matter,” I tried to gently detangle myself from her grasp. “I’m not interested in older woman.” Honestly that wasn’t the full truth, but it didn’t take me long after meeting the cougar currently pawing at my chest to realize experience comes at a price, usually sanity.

Suzee refused to let go and instead pushed me up against a wall, kissing me long and hard. I struggled to break away and finally caught a breath of air around thick lipstick. Suzee busily unbuttoned my shirt until I tightly gripped her hands in my own. “Listen to me.” I said seriously, looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry there was a misunderstanding, but I’m not interested in you. Please put your clothes back on and leave my house.”

“Aww baby,” she cooed. “What’s wrong? I don’t bite.” She leaned forward and snapped playfully at my collarbones. I pushed her away roughly, not longer so concerned with treating her like a lady.

“I can’t be with someone as old as you.” I blurted out.

“As old as me?” She scoffed. “I’m barely over… I’m not old.” She snapped in my direction. “You’re hardly one to talk!”

“I’m only – ”

“You’re legal; that’s all that mattered.” Suzee turned away and I sighed with relief until a finger stab my chest. “You know what your problem is? You’re not man enough for me. You’ll see, older women are better. You’ll learn once you grow up.” Turning on her heels she stormed off, picking up each article of clothing she’ d tossed aside on her way to the door. Slamming it shut behind her she cut off her perfume trail, leaving me slightly scratched by her foreplay nails but otherwise no worse for wear.

Sighing fully in relief I sank to the floor, grateful I’d managed to avoid the mauling. I decided from then on to never see a woman old enough to be my mom ever again. It was just too weird. It was like dating the Crypt Keeper or something.


“My existence is cursed and God cares not.”

Gabriel looked through the cracks in her carrier. She stroked her hair, fighting to quite the tremors already racking her body. Then time came. Light flooded Gabriel’s vision as hands groped her. Gasps intruded her mind before she steadied herself on her own two feet. Held in place by habit Gabriel looked out into a sea of faces.

“Before us stands what can only be described as a freak.” A man dressed faux-smartly in a tired suit stood only a few feet away. Maybe today would be his lucky day and her owner could finally afford a new one. “As you can plainly see, this “woman”,” He chuckled. “Is plagued by many anomalies. I would like to state that we have had this woman examined by a doctor to confirm that she is in fact female. So cast away your doubts and marvel! First, whiskers!” The man walked closer and tugged at her chin covered in dark coarse hair. “Then, the absence of nipples.” The man ran his fingers across her chest in its entirety to make certain for the crowd. It went on like that for a while longer.

Soon however a line formed. Her owner grasped the hard earned bills from hands and ushered them joyfully on. The faces passed before Gabriel one by one. Careful to keep their distance only occasionally would a daring soul lean in for a closer look.

This was her life. Declared too different for her own good Gabriel found herself a sold commodity by age ten. She was useless to her parents after all. No one would marry her and though she could just as well work, it was not her place.

Once the show finished and the last dollar made men led her into a tent to be fed and bathed. At the end of the night she lay down on a small cot and slept. She thanked her lucky stars for even that much. She met a man once lacking fingers who slept with the trash just outside his owner’s door. Much like a dog he perked up when he heard footsteps approaching.  Gabriel, accompanied by her own owner, ignored the man to the best of her abilities. He’d smiled brightly regardless and waved as she passed.

The next morning the routine began anew. It was humanity’s ultimate mercy that she even live out such an unpleasant existence. Yet if Gabriel spent any time on the matter she found a redeeming aspect to the cruelty. Barely there, maybe not at all, but it helped her find peace.

“They found the beauty in ugly.”

I Need You

“Come home. I need you. Now.”

Male Version:

“Who is it Steven?” His co-worker asked. The two men sat in Steven’s office going over the schedule for the week.

Steven looked up from his phone. “It’s my wife. She just texted me.” He smiled. “She says she needs me.”

His co-worker smiled a sly smile. “You dog,” The two burst into laughter.

“Oh, you know how it is. I really am lucky she still loves a guy like me. Honestly, she can hardly keep her hands off me!” His co-worker nodded in understanding. “When I walk through the door at night I have to practically fight her off me. It’s like “Jesus woman, let me at least get my shoes off!” You know?” The two laughed again.

Sighing, he shut his phone and put it away, content to know his wife could wait until his work was done.

“Silly women.”

Female Version:

Abigail cured her husband. Why didn’t he answer her text? Hadn’t he read it? Didn’t he understand her urgency? Her need?

A robber pressed the gun harder against the back of her head. What misery. There she’d been, going about her day as usual; she’d stopped at home on her lunch to pick up some things. Standing in the bedroom she’d heard a quiet commotion downstairs. Instinctively, innocently, she’d gone to investigate. She saw the robbers before they saw her, thankfully, and she’d dashed back into the room. Shutting the door, she quickly hid in the closet. The robbers must have heard something however, for no sooner had she crouched amongst some clothes than she heard the bedroom door open.

She couldn’t call 911, they would hear her voice. Panicked, she did the next thing that came to her mind; she texted her husband. Fighting back pants of hysterics, she waited. Suddenly the closet door swung open. Looking up into the cold eyes of a man she didn’t recognize, Abigail screamed. He reached out and grabbed her by the hair. Fighting hard, she was drug out of the closet and down the stairs to the living room. Told to keep quiet, a gun was drawn.

This is about the time Abigail began to curse her husband. She watched as men stole everything. Car keys, TVs, clocks, watches, the new crock pot they’d received for Christmas, even their daughter’s piggybank. All gone. Finally, ten minutes later, she was thanked kindly for her cooperation and knocked unconscious.

A few hours later, Steven would come home to this scene, left completely surprised. Once she came to, Abigail would set about berating, both emotionally and physically, her husband for his ego. Then, much later, they would finally call the police.     

“Stupid men.”