Posted in flash fiction

Stopover

I can’t wait to marry this guy.

Here we are inside his car, parked at what he calls an abandoned road.

“I discovered this place years ago when I was bird hunting. I come here whenever I want to breathe,” he explains.

Isn’t he great? Most guys will bring you to a crowded restaurant on a special day, but my guy brought me to his secret place. How romantic!

I scan the area and see tall wild bushes. A bird crosses the road.

“Baby, this place looks like a setting for a horror movie. We can throw a body here and no one would know,” I joke.

“Oh! Is this place creeping you out? We can go somewhere else.”  His big blue eyes look at me with worry.

 “No, I was kidding. I love that you brought me here. We have the whole place to ourselves and we can celebrate with the birds chirping, the wind singing, and the sun smiling at us. This is like a fairy tale.”

He kisses me on my forehead. He then opens the compartment and hands me a present wrapped with a red ribbon. My heart leaps for joy. I don’t even mind the dagger that is also there.

“Happy first monthsary!”

“An apron… it has a heart icon too. This is so cute! Thanks, baby.”

“I heard that Filipina girls love cooking.”

We both smile. We are so in love.

He holds my face in his hands and starts kissing me passionately. His left hand slowly crawls inside my blouse. He pinches my nipple.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, babe. I got carried away. I know that I am your first white boyfriend and we should take things slowly, but I can’t help it. I want you so much.”

He takes my hand and places it on top of his pants. His dick is hard.

“Monthsary gift, babe? Please!”

“What if somebody sees us?”

“No one passes by here, don’t worry. And, don’t be anxious. I know it’s your first time with a white guy. I know you can take it.”

“But…”

He unzips his pants and grabs my hair.

It starts to drizzle. I can hear the water splash into the roof of the car.

I don’t know if it’s because of the lemon water that I drank or it’s my sweet love turning sour, his cum tastes like expired milk.

“I have always fantasized being sucked by a pretty Asian girl. Thank you for making my dreams come true. I love you,” he says as he cleans up. “I have to go out and take a piss.”

He gets out of the car.

I grab the dagger in the compartment and follow him out.

The sky is dark now. I can’t believe I am doing this again. All I ever wanted is pure sweet love. Whatever. The brown pigment on his nape is a good place to start.

I guess I need to bury another white man again.

Author:

Lynde Grande is a curriculum writer by day and an armchair media critic by night. She is fuelled by junk food and frozen yoghurt. Lynde is currently enjoying life with her lovely partner and two cats in the heart of Sydney. The previous statement is a lie. She is actually an angry and sad potato.

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