Best Served Domestically

It was shortly before March break at Mohawk College, and 22-year-old Part-Pinoy Canadian digital media student Glenn Hickey was trying to survive the latest harassment scheme from a Belgio-Canadian harridan his age who claimed to have "popped (his twin sister) Grace's cherry," something Glenn would rather not know about.

"What's the matter, Glenn? Is Grace's cherry not a flavor you want to hear about? Your lack of investment doesn't seem very brotherly of you. But I suppose you're too focused on Ashleigh Sanchez's peach!"

Glenn clutched his licorice colored hair, glared his emerald eyes, and gritted his teeth, his bronzed complexion perspiring through his chinos, plaid shirt and skate shoes as he turned towards the slender harpy in the skinny jeans, drab T-shirt, and combat boots, her ear-length platinum blonde hair curling against her forehead above her cyan eyes, her maple wood complexion belying a woman who weaponized social interactions.

"Please, kindly stop talking about my sister as if she's still one of your conquests, Claudia. I don't care what went on between you two, but Grace deserves better than you airing her private laundry."

Claudia Nassar smirked at Glenn.

"I'm sure there's some private laundry that Ashleigh would love to share with you. Maybe I'll ask her."

Glenn gritted his teeth.

"You will ask no such thing. Ashleigh and I are acquaintances, and as attracted as I am to her, I respect her boundaries."

Glenn walked to his communications class, trying to pretend nothing happened.

...

After communications class, 21-year-old Business Student Ashleigh Sanchez approached Glenn near his locker. Her athletic breasts were pressing into Glenn's chest, giving him an erection, prompting him to cross his legs. Ashleigh had a complexion the color of flan, eyes the color of dark coffee, and chin-length straight caramel brown hair that had an aloe scent from her shampoo, and was wearing a jean dress with a pair of fishnet stockings and closed wedges. Glenn still couldn't believe that someone as charismatic as Ashleigh was actually invested in his art, or his existence.

"Hey Glenn, I know you've been working hard on that digital art project. I figured you could use some inspiration. Check your school email as soon as possible."

Ashleigh walked away slowly, unaware that the "digital art inspiration" she had sent was actually a means to humiliate her attempted conquest, and a means to cunt-block Ashleigh herself.

...

As Glenn was checking his email in the library, he happened upon the email Ashleigh had mentioned.

Glenn was caught off guard to find an image of Ashleigh in her dorm room, wearing fishnet stockings, closed wedges, and nothing else. Before Glenn could close the unexpectedly graphic image, Glenn's communications professor, Duane Hammond, happened to notice.

"Glenn, I hope you have a reasonable explanation for why you possess intimate photos of a fellow student on your school computer."

Glenn couldn't believe it. The woman with whom he was painfully infatuated had used school equipment to effectively humiliate and betray him, whether she knew it or not. Glenn saw Ashleigh leaving the H wing washroom, his voice cracking and tears flowing down his face as he tried to leave his Professor's presence.

"Excuse me a minute professor. I need to talk to one of my classmates. Alone."

Glenn confronted Ashleigh after composing himself.

"You embarrassed me."

Ashleigh furrowed her brow, then kissed Glenn on the collar.

"What do you mean I embarrassed you?! I would think you would be flattered by receiving such privileged images from an attractive woman like myself! I'm giving you priority access, and your response is suboptimal!"

Glenn gritted his teeth. It was abundantly clear now to Glenn that Ashleigh had potentially only pretended to be interested in him as a person because she wanted him sexually.

"You embarrassed me on my school email! Who told you it was a good idea to send unsolicited intimate images on a school server?! Don't ever talk to me again!"

Suddenly, Ashleigh noticed her treacherous advisor walk down the stairs, started charging her and throttling her, eyes and lips quivering as she realized just how permanently she had been cheated.

"CLAUDIA, YOU BITCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST CUNT-BLOCKED ME!"

Claudia tried to resist.

"You should really know better than to think with your pussy, Ashleigh. You don't try to stick something in a tailpipe just because the engine is lubricated."

While Campus security and Professor Hammond tried to break up the brawl, Glenn made his escape, not wanting to stick around and watch his tormentor be physically assaulted just because of his former crush receiving bad advice, even if she had brought it on herself.

"Later, Professor Hammond."

...

Later, in the Art Gallery of Hamilton, Glenn was looking at the "Horse and Train" painting by Alex Colville. Glenn thought about how even though he could often see things coming, he was very much established in his tracks, and sometimes the best he could do was lean on the horn. Suddenly, Glenn heard a middle-aged female voice behind him.

"Things aren't always as inevitable as they seem, you know."

The voice came from a slender woman with ear length dishwater blonde hair, a maple wood complexion, cyan eyes, and a perky figure underneath her blue blazer, white and black windowpane blouse, and green khakis, accentuated by her whiskey t-strap flat shoes.

"What do you mean by that, Mz.-"

The woman held out her finger.

"Just call me Sandra. I'm Sandra Nassar, and I am a curator here. What brings you to the Art Gallery of Hamilton?"

Glenn told the technical truth.

"I'm a digital media student at Mohawk.

Sandra raised her eyebrow.

"My daughter, Claudia, is in the Automotive Service Technician program."

Glenn bit his tongue before changing the subject.

"I take it you don't believe in fate or God, Sandra."

Sandra glanced at the painting.

"I believe that people have choices, even if you count for external circumstances. For example, my brother could have gotten to know his current wife better before marrying her, but they impulsively decided that they would familiarize themselves together after their civil wedding. My brother says they were 'meant to be together'. We'll see what their intentions are years down the road."

Glenn contemplated the events of the day, while maintaining discretion regarding the participants.

"Kind of like some women will take bad relationship advice, and then the advisor is caught off guard by their own consequences?"

Sandra smirked.

"Some people believe that the flies should only come after their deaths. It never occurs to them that the flies don't care about their priorities. Perhaps we can discuss your priorities as a digital artist at my Stoney Creek Townhouse. The gallery closes soon, and we won't have anyone interrupting us."

Glenn supposed that he couldn't afford to alienate someone who could have a major impact on his career, even if she was related to his nemesis. Besides, she was attractive and charismatic.

...

Sandra drove Glenn in her Jaguar to her modernist townhouse on Midhurst Heights, where she invited him in for decaf coffee, removing her blazer and shoes. As they sipped their beverages without their footwear, Sandra subtly inquired about Glenn's relationship status.

"Does your girlfriend also have an interest in digital art?"

Glenn thought about how devastated he had been to find out that his former crush Ashleigh had effectively been pretending to be interested in his work to get into his pants, and how Claudia had exploited her lust by convincing Ashleigh to send unsolicited intimate imagery to Glenn's email to indirectly humiliate Glenn. Rather than admit the whole truth, Glenn told a white lie.

"Let's just say the woman I wanted to be my girlfriend turned out to have ulterior motives, and had that used against her by someone else."

Sandra's face remained nonchalant as she placed a hand on Glenn's lap.

"Is that so? Everyone has ulterior motives, to a certain extent. They just aren't always what you think they are."

Glenn felt himself becoming erect and crossed his legs, then hesitantly put his hand on Sandra's arm.

"Are you speaking from experience, Sandra?"

Sandra sniffed Glenn's hair.

"Perhaps from her perspective, you had ulterior motives yourself. Perhaps what are honest motives to you are convoluted to her."

Glenn considered the ramifications of what Sandra was suggesting. Was Sandra suggesting that Ashleigh reducing Glenn to a sex object was somehow more earnest than Glenn treating Ashleigh like an actual person, albeit a person he was attracted to? Glenn dismissed the thought as he followed Sandra into her bedroom.

In the bedroom, once they disrobed, Glenn went down on Sandra as she lay on her bed, his tongue circulating like the wheels of a train around her labia and clitoris.

"Keep your motives honest, Glenn," commented Sandra. "Don't convolute the circumstances with your affection."

Glenn squeezed Sandra's firm breasts and buttocks as he continued his oral stimulation. Sandra rubbed Glenn's hair and shoulders throughout the exchange. Before Sandra could reach an orgasm, she pushed Glenn away.

"I'm choosing to defer my gratification, Glenn. Let's paint each other's canvases now."

Sandra sat in Glenn's bare lap as they both crossed their legs, with Sandra ascending Glenn's erection with her pussy, both participants oscillating vertically as they explored each other's bodies like sculptures. Glenn felt his arousal build like the pressure of a locomotive as he savored the fact that he was engaging in an affair with the mother of a woman who had been tormenting him. Sandra herself felt her slot eagerly envelop Glenn's dick like a Clydesdale devours hay. As the sex partners reached a canter, and began to blow off steam, it occurred to Glenn that he and Sandra were going to be keeping each other a secret for as long as possible, much like an artist's unfinished posthumous masterpiece.

...

The next day, as Glenn arrived home on the HSR, his sister Grace detected the familiar scent of decaffeinated coffee, but not just any decaffeinated coffee; the specific decaffeinated coffee that Claudia used to carry unmarked in her backpack.

"Good morning, Glennito. I don't suppose you had a late-night study session with my former significant other."

Glenn paused. He hadn't mentioned anything about what Claudia had claimed to Grace, nor could he figure out how she knew he had been anywhere near her mother's house.

"I didn't see her or anyone related to her last night, Gracita. Why do you ask?"

Grace adjusted her licorice-toned braids and the top button of her housedress.

"That's a very interesting thing to say for someone who didn't see anyone related to her, Glennito. I didn't ask if you saw anyone related to Claudita. Is there anyone related to her that I should know about that you might've seen? Is that why I smell presumably expensive decaf coffee?"

Grace sipped her Tsokolate as Glenn came up with an excuse.

"I was just discussing digital art with one of the local curators, that was all."

Grace stirred the beverage with her spoon.

"I can tell you're lying to yourself and me, Glennito. Use your common sense. If my former significant other Claudita could lie about her mother's financial status out of shame, what else do you think she was lying to me about? If Claudita thought I could be bribed with money to get back together with her, what does that say about her mother?"

Glenn brushed off the comment.

"It's just a professional connection."

Grace rolled her eyes. Her brother was being naïve.

...

The affair continued for several weeks, until one day during one of their encounters, Glenn heard the door turn, and Sandra advised him to hide in the walk-in closet. Glenn could hear Claudia's voice through the closet door.

"You humiliated me, Oumie! You, and your fucking Jaguar! I had my own car, which I bought with my own money from my work at the garage! But no, you had to show up with Tantine Liz from Brussels to our date with that damn car and disturb my shit by waving as you drove past, even though I told you not to be there! You barely talk to your brother because he eloped with a woman he barely knew while vacationing in Monaco, but at least I can trust Tonton Louis not to flaunt his assets! I mean, he was discreet enough that we didn't find out about his plans until after the documents were signed at the Monte Carlo Mairie! The least you can do is try and find some way to convince Grace that we're supposed to be together, even if you have to disinherit me to do it!"

Glenn caught a glance as Sandra tightened her bathrobe.

"Your former paramour got a restraining order against you last I checked. You think a little unpaid severance is going to get Grace back? You should've thought about that before you started your little double life. Say, aren't you friends with her brother, or so I've heard from your professor? Why don't you ask him to intervene on your behalf?"

Glen tensed up in the walk-in closet. He hadn't disclosed his connection to Claudia, never mind implied that they were friends. Professor Hammond must have either severely misread the situation, or Sandra had missed the Professor's sarcasm. Meanwhile, Claudia's voice began to crack.

"Why would I ever do that?! Why would he ever do that?! He already knows more about me and Grace than he ever wanted to, even if I lied about the exact nature of our relationship because seeing his face just rubs in the fact that I'm not with her! Every time I look at his face, I'm reminded of the face of his sibling who I'm not with anymore! Grace was never supposed to be just another notch on my bed post, no matter how much I try and pretend she was! She was supposed to be my everything! All that wealth meant absolutely nothing to me, and I thought if she knew about my connection to you, she wouldn't be with me for the right reasons! I would give all of the money in the world if I had it to get her back, but now I know she wouldn't take it! I WISH THERE WAS SOME OTHER WAY TO PROVE THAT I CAN'T EXIST WITHOUT HER, BECAUSE THE MONEY WAS AS WORTHLESS TO HER AS IT WAS TO ME! I WISH THERE WAS SOME WAY TO PROVE TO GRACE THAT I KNOW WHAT A BITCH I WAS! I WISH SHE WOULD ACCEPT MY DAMN APOLOGY! I WISH I HAD NEVER WITHDRAWN THAT CASH IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

Claudia was crying like a shrieking falcon now. Suddenly, she noticed the men's clothes in the corner.

"Let me get this straight... all this talk about Grace being one of my so-called conquests from that little weasel, and my Oumie decides to get in his pants for some reason. Real nice."

Glenn decided that he needed to leave, consequences be damned.

"It seems like I'm in the middle of something very tense. Have a nice day."

...

When Glenn got home to the Hickey house, Grace asked him a question that he didn't expect.

"I wonder what Claudita had to say for herself."

Glenn sighed.

"That's the thing; she wishes there was some other way she could prove, verbatim she 'can't exist without you'. That family is weird; you were right."

Grace stopped drinking her beverage, unsure how to react to the news that a pathological liar believed her existence was worthless without Grace existing alongside her.