lucy bows out part 01
Even when you pack on weight, you keep up the gym. The same meat-heads and Barbies who didn’t understand you when you were fat and lifting heavy things can’t get their head around you gaining fat and still lifting heavy weights. Still, a number of them nod greetings, or say hi. You’re part of the regular crowd.
You look forward to seeing Lucy on Sundays and Thursdays, but she’s been hit or miss recently. You especially look forward to seeing her on Tuesdays, the day of the week that she comes after dinnertime and offers you her wrist, or her neck. Those she never misses.
She is very sweet when you feed, both in flavour and demeanor. She will draw back her high ponytail to reveal her neck, which itself will bear no trace of perfume and so give you her flavour unadulterated. She does not complain when you bite, though you know it must hurt in a way that terrifies the animal part of a human being. Instead she thanks you for making her feel special.
Last time, when the last mouthful was long gone and her taste was just iron perfume across your palette, she cried. She wouldn’t speak, but you held her close, sharing back with her the flush of warmth that cheered your skin.
This Sunday there is no sign of her. Shaun is, though, alone, which never happens. He doesn’t come alone, ever. In fact he seems only to have come to talk to you, stomping towards the rowing machine on which you are measuring out long, steady stokes on an imaginary river.
“Raven.” His tone veers between concern and anger. You don’t relish being spoken to that way so you ignore him, making him watch you as your knees bend and squash against your flab before each stroke. “Raven, we need to talk.”
“So talk,” you say, but breaking the rhythm.
Your brusqueness puts him off-balance but he recovers with only a brief hesitation. “I think Lucy is having an affair with Andrew.”
Your snort of laughter is unrestrained enough to make some other gym-rats look over.
“I’m serious,” he continues, face colouring beneath freckles. “I’ve seen her texting him, late, and they meet up for coffee. And she’s been more… distant lately.”
“Maybe she has a lot on her mind.” Speaking interrupts the cycles of your breathing. While the people you consume do add to your muscle, the fat they also become costs a fraction of each of your breaths. You wish this plonker would take his insecurities elsewhere.
“I know Lucy. She has bad days, but not like this. She’s not withdrawn, she’s… distracted. Something’s pulling her away.”
“So you think she’s fucking Andrew?”
You don’t see but can infer the angry shrug.
Your rate is dropping. Rather than struggle through while dealing with Shaun you end your set early. The handles click into their holder as you release them for the wheel to draw back.
“Shaun, Andrew would have told me if he was fucking your girlfriend. He’s free to do whatever he likes, and we talk.” You look up at him, not bothering to hide the annoyance as you towel sweat from your forehead. What you’d really like is to towel your poor underboob. You picture water weight from Tracy’s body being repurposed and secreted as sweat to keep her predator nice and cool. Fair enough that she’s making you feel sticky: revenge for being made to feed into the tits that are now trapping a little of that sweat?
The fact is you know I’m not fooling around with Lucy. While I am free to do as I please, I have bent my whole life on you, and appear to see no other. You’ve seen us talking often, though.
“Oh? That’s… rather modern. But it doesn’t prove anything. I—”
“I’m afraid it does to me. No affair.” Drier, you heave yourself up from the low seat. You’re front-heavy to a ridiculous degree: why is standing up so challenging?
The narrow leather seat seems to regret your leaving. Your backside had encompassed it and spilled either side. You have to flex apart slightly to release your arse’s hold.
Maybe, you think to yourself, you’ll give it a hold on this pompous git. He’s long and thin as a rake. No great loss if digestion is less efficient that way; and maybe he’ll feel like struggling anal beads.
The way you must be looking at him puts him off. Perhaps hunger without context looks to the steak like aggression. “Okay, whatever. Just… Tell her I’m looking for if you see her, ‘kay? And to check her messages.”
You don’t say a thing. He walks away dissatisfied, leaving you continuing to daydream about a slow, extended sit down on Shaun, top to bottom. You wonder, could you strangle the life out of him with your anus alone if you flexed?
Happy thoughts aside you’ve got a session to finish. The largest man you’ve ever seen deferentially yields his squat rack to you when you bat your eyelashes.
It’s raining a warm summer rain when you leave the gym. You hop in your increasingly cramped car and drive home. We’re staying at mine again tonight.
I look up from my phone as you enter, hanging your keys on a hook. “Are you cheating on me, babe?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Who or what on this earth could possibly compare to you?”
You’re already striding over to me. You place a firm, possessive kiss on my lips. “Good boy.” You lick my lips and pull at my collar. “Come, I’m still warm and have ideas about backsides.”
I look stricken. “I would, my love, but regretfully you’re about to get a visitor.”
A knock happens to overlap my last words. You raise an eyebrow and cross the hallway to the door. A figure stands out there, visible in the rain through the frosted glass.
You open the door. Rainclouds make it dark in the late summer evening. The hallway light illuminates the pale face of Lucy, mascara trickling down from her eyes. Her hair is wet-through and she is wearing no coat."
“Raven,” she says, her voice firm despite everything. “I want you to take me. All of me. Don’t argue.”