People call me BC. Big Cat. A nickname I've had since I was a boy. However, during my years at art college I was known as 'Fluffer'. These are my diaries of that time. Fluffer's tales.
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It had to happen. And it had to happen on the very day Liv broke my heart to avenge Pearl. Just after I'd tossed our surprise two-month anniversary meal in the bin, as I guzzled champagne straight from the bottle, Imogen called.
The last time I'd spoken to my ex was over two years before when she'd dumped me--by boasting about the mind-blowing oral she'd received in Berlin from her sister's boyfriend.
"Oh, hello!" Somehow she even managed to make that sound aloof: air hair lair!
I hadn't thought about her in months. So much had happened since I last saw her I felt demolished and rebuilt, then demolished again.
Not her, not now. "Imogen."
Her laugh, God, that soft cackling laugh. It still flipped my stomach. How could something so whimsical, so fucking tinkling, exist in the same universe as women who seduced you, then knocked you down and spat your cum in your mouth?
I thought of Sara. I thought of Anne-Marie, Fleur, Orla, Charlotte, Mazzy, of Guapa. I constructed a girl wall between us. But Pearl, Liv and Xanthe knocked it down.
I still couldn't hang up. Imogen's laughter drifted in the telephone's crackling void and that was my life now. That empty, buzzing space where anything might happen.
"So, BC! How are you? Or should I say Fluffer!" Again with the laugh, she was on a speakerphone in a very echoey place. Water sloshed in the background.
"Brilliant. What's that noise, you in a boat?"
"Actually, I'm in the bath."
Her naked body flashed into my head. She was a statuesque pre-Raphaelite redhead with skin like moonlight-- or so I used to say. She was elegantly proportioned and willowy, but my fucked-up wits recreated her by morphing Liv and Xanthe together
"And I just popped into your mind?"
"Well, yes. You did." She shifted in the bath, each splash conjuring the image of a wet, stirring limb. A flash of creamy, squirming snakes. Of cum-slicked tongues.
She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I met someone you know the other day. Fleur?"
"Fleur? Where?"
"In... um... in Berlin."
"Right."
"You know we're old school friends? We couldn't believe it, meeting there of all places."
Fleur's warm, sad smile. "How is she? We had a surprisingly good time fixing up her Grandma's."
"She told me! That was the other weird thing, finding out you two met. We simply couldn't believe it."
"I'm surprised she mentioned me."
"Me too!" The little laugh. The seductive one. Where did that come from? "She asked me why I was in Berlin, and I told her... Oh God this isn't still difficult for you is it?"
"Nope." And I meant it, I think. I didn't care about the "excellent tonguing" Imogen got there. If that hadn't happened, Sara would never have shown me what to do, and Fluffer would never have existed.
"Goody! I suppose I was boasting about the reason for visiting Berlin and, well, you-know-what, and she was smiling in that smug way, you know when people have something even better to tell you and they are just waiting for you to shut up so they can impress you?"
I swigged fizz. I liked where this was going. "Mm-hmm."
"So she was telling me all about this tall 'gateaux-de-boeuf' and how she'd just enjoyed the best sex of her life and you know what?"
I felt like bloody King Cock. "Nope."
"Turns out it was you!" She laughed and splashed. "Actually you! Can you believe it!"
"Not shitty old me! Surely she must have been joking!"
"Well I did wonder." Imogen could put me in my place better than anyone I'd ever met.
"So what did she say?"
"I'm not telling you that."
"God I wish I'd heard the conversation."
"I bet." She puffed a long sigh. It quivered.
"Imogen are you... jealous?"
"No..." Her voice sounded small. I kept my mouth shut, let the silence draw her out. Sure enough, she sighed again.
"No, not jealous. Pleased actually. For you. But..." She moved in the water and I heard something rub against the base of the tub. "That wasn't a fart by the way, it was my bottom. No I mean, rubbing on the bath."
"OK."
"Oh, Fleur did make me sad BC! Regretful. That Sara could show you this great thing and that you would blossom into... into something I wanted. I could have shown you what Sara did. What girls like. Then we might still be together."
"Was our relationship that superficial?"
"Sex isn't superficial. it binds you, doesn't it?"
"I dunno. I've had all the best sex of my life in the last couple of years and been dumped by most of the girls. They never felt bound to me. I bet you're not actually with Cunni-Berlin-Gus are you?"
"God, no. Well I... visit him sometimes, but I'm engaged to a lovely little man. Awful sex, but I do love him, the saggy old puppy. So yes maybe it was never going to work out with you and me."
"Um... Does 'The Puppy' know you're talking to me now?"
"Of course not, donkey, he's away on business."
"I see. Rich?"
"Of course!" She slurped at something. "Embarrassingly."
"So why are you calling me, Imogen? And how much have you had to drink?"
"I was just... thinking about you that's all. Half a bottle."
"What were you thinking?"
A little laugh. There's a noise cats make, not quite a purr, not quite a meow. "Tell me about the best sex you've had since we split up."
"Fucksake. No."
"You'd tell Sara. Go on tell me. I want to hear. I've been driving myself bananas thinking about it."
Fluffer's life came back in a lurid jumble. Even if I did tell her, where to start? Certainly not with the most recent. I sighed, but it came out as a growl. I was so done with sex. It made everyone behave like such assholes.
"Oh please, BC! Just your single favourite... position, then!"
Fuck it. I'd give her what she wanted and then she'd go away. Anne Marie popped up to help. "Position? OK... There was a girl who sort of squatted... on my mouth?"
"Yuk!" Imogen roared with laughter. "That was your favourite!"
"I'm hanging up."
"No! Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. No, tell me, why was that so good?"
"Just her lips, pressed to mine. No other contact. And she was all blossomed, right above me." Silence. "Hello?"
"No. I see, go on. Was she wet?"
"Are you?"
"I'm not telling you that."
"Bye then!"
"OK, OK! Hang on..." Splashing. "Yes. I am a little wet. And not just from the bath."
"Well then, yes. She was wet. Dripping."
"Did you like it?"
"Loved it. I licked her juices from her hole up over her clitoris."
"Listen to you, mister expert! You know where the clitoris is now."
"I know you're touching yours."
"So, she..."
No denial, interesting. "Came? Of course. I tried to put it off as long as possible, but then sucked her clit until she just..."