Category: Adult
Bubbles' New Boyfriend
Bubbles' New Boyfriend by PleaseCain "No!" The outburst startled the family to silence. Elderly aunts clucked their approval of the fiery niece seated across the room. All eyes fixed on the boyfriend setting his jaw and rising from the chair. "Excuse us," he said. He held out his hand. "Bubbles." The woman eyed the hand from the corners of her big blue eyes. Finally, she stood and took it, then followed him from the room. The living room remained heavily silent. Then a hallway door clicked shut and like a signal, loosed a torrent of furious whispering-- "That's our Kate! She'll give him!" "What was this he called her?" "The nerve of that man." "What does a career girl see in a schlep like that . . . oh, I'm sorry, he's a writer." "How young is he, anyway?" "I'll give him what-for myself." The prattle mounted even while ears tuned for the promised signs of fighting. Eventually the level of chatter returned to normal. Now and then, a curious sound might reach them, closer to the high whelp of childbirth than any sort of argument. Still, each time the fabric of conversation was jostled like an unexpected tug at a tablecloth. One by one the women drifted from the room, at first "to take a powder" or "get my purse." But the last few hurried from the room as outright spies. "Gladys, for crying out loud," one of the men called after them. Huddled in the shadows of the hallway, their eyes boggled and lips pursed at every spank, squeal and inhalation they discerned through the door-- "That's your sewing in there!" "What sort of monster, in my home!" "Who is he who comes in here like this?" "Oh, my Albert years ago tried once, feeling his oats, but I set him straight." "A career girl who stands for such treatment?" "I'm going in to get your sewing." Back in the living room, the nervous muttering of the men was interrupted by gasps from the hall. A moment later, the women scampered like hens into the room and their chairs. The couple returned hand-in-hand. He mixed them drinks and sat comfortably, crossing one leg over the other, still holding her hand. She stood at his side, occasionally brushing against the wall behind her. Her face beamed healthy and sun-kissed, so that her short golden hair and doelike eyes shone more radiant. The aunts nodded their fleshy chins at the lovers-- "Has our Kate ever looked lovelier?" "Finally she can stop looking. A gentleman." "My Albert used to carry himself so handsomely." "A career girl needs a good man at home like the rest of us." "He's writing a whole novel, I hear! Such work!" "Maybe it's time for me to start sewing a baby blanket, no?"
Polara email
I was charmed by the way the dialog and description vividly created a family gathering well-supplied with gossipy old biddies. Though the spanking was off-stage it was clearly conveyed: through the sound effects, the old ladies' reactions, and the demeanour of the participants upon completion. I particularly liked the phrase "jostled like an unexpected tug at a tablecloth" - so appropriate, as almost any family gathering of this type seems to centre around food. I take exception to "the high whelp of childbirth," though. She wasn't having a puppy in there.
Ivy Tran email
Really this story has very little plot into itself. It requires too much drawing of your own conclusions and not enough in writing. I realize that this is mainly because of the word limitations, but still. I find it hard to make a concrete story out of the conglomeration of words here.
Pablo email
Very very lovely. It's a deft move to have the 'action' take place off-screen, so that we see it only through the eyes and ears of the elders. Makes us - like them - want to press our ears to the door to hear what's going on. The hints of yearning from the aunts are subtle and delicious; their tacit approval is sweet. Lots of delicate and effective imagery here too: the aunts as hens, the 'whelp of childbirth'. The shining love between them at the story's end is all we really need to know. (Pablo)