Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Monday, April 18, 2011

My Clandestine Dalliance

Vicks VapoRub and Val,
sitting in a tree:
K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
First comes love,
then comes marriage,
then comes Val
with a baby carriage.

Okay, we haven't progressed quite that far in our relationship. No stinky little bundle of joy for me. But things have been heating up between my new love and me. Vicks caught me at a vulnerable time. I have been feeling less than attractive. Over the past three days, the dark circles under my eyes have grown more pronounced. I had hoped that the new red tint around my nostrils would draw attention away from my eye bags. A furtive glance in the mirror revealed that I was sadly mistaken.

Vicks has been in my life off and on since childhood. I had a tendency to overlook him in those early years. Even when he was right under my nose. This time, however, I sought him out. I didn't have to go far. Vicks, ever on the lookout for a prime opportunity, had ensconced himself behind the vanity mirror in my bathroom.

We resumed our on-again, off-again relationship slowly at first. I deeply inhaled his signature scent. That really got my juices flowing. Vicks always knew how to make me hot. Try as I might to resist his slimy advances, I knew we were destined to spend the night together. My chest ached for Vicks.

Throwing caution to the wind, I ripped off my blouse. And foundation garment. Before you could say Holly Robinson Peete, Vicks was all over me. Our melding was as good as I remembered. Emboldened, I crept into bed next to Hick, the sticky essence of Vicks still clinging to my flushed skin. Hick remained unaware. Perhaps it had something to do with the CPAP machine shielding his nasal passages.

For now, Vicks and I bide our time. Our rendezvous are always furtive. Behind closed doors. In the privacy of my home. Though I can't imagine life without him, I refuse to be seen with Vicks in public. Some things are better kept private.

A lady reveals nothing.

10 comments:

knancy said...

Now you can say you're an author of a "romantic novel". Not that you may want to do that, but in the same breath you could also say it was based on a true story.

P.S. I hate romantic novels, but I loved your historic novelette.

Val Thevictorian said...

knancy,
My mini-bodice-ripper thanks you. And reminds me that this is why I don't write fiction.

Josh Hoyt said...

Wow that was steamy. Great job on the romance novel. I hope you get feeling better soon.

Val Thevictorian said...

Josh,
Thank you so much for the well-wishes. Again...this is why I don't write fiction. It doesn't flow for me. It's like trying to bat lefthanded. I have to think of every single move and make adjustments to my adjustments.

Linda O'Connell said...

Vicks often needs a helping hand, but he always gets the job done. You are funny.

Val Thevictorian said...

Linda,
Thanks. Vicks always rubs me the right way.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

Brings to mind a radio station I used to listen to on the way to work. One of the female dj's would render what what was called a "moist romantic reading" in which she would read to the listeners a totally innocent passage in a breathy voice. I suppose it is all in the delivery, right?

Val Thevictorian said...

Kathy,
Well, I don't know. I've never been on the radio. I will try some breathy typing and see how that works out for me.

bettyl said...

How mentholating!

Val Thevictorian said...

BettyL,
Indeed!