Love is a beautiful thing, but done right, it can also be painful. To observe the two naked lovers in my dark oak hallway of mirrors and paintings, beside the mock orange tree, was reminiscent of some renaissance portrait of the first humans in the garden of Eden. Fern reached out a hand to touch Paulo’s – now somewhat more inflated – cock, fingering it approvingly.
Paulo’s eyes met mine as I stepped out of the doorway.
“Fern looks quite beautiful, doesn’t she Paulo?”
Paulo started to laugh in the hysterical manner men do when they are trying to hold back a herd of fury.
“Mistress, this is very funny. I see the irony, but please – tell me. There’s a key, right?”
“Why of course, there’s a key. Every lock has one. What is your point?”
He motioned to the lock fastening his fair Fern’s virtue. Fern waggled her hips at him, giggling. Presumably she was enjoying this as much as I was. It is always the nice girls…
“Oh.” I tittered, “That. Why yes of course.”
I reached in my pocket for something fit for the purpose. I found it. A silver dime, around the same shape and size as the key. Only a glint of it between the tight grasp of my fingers. Paulo was practically bouncing on the spot now. I crouched down in front of Fern, meeting her eye to wink at her, taking my time.
Then accidentally dropped the dime through the grate of the air vent, where it rolled and disappeared into a soft descent into what presumably terminates as decades of dryer lint sediment.
“Whoopsie daisy…” I sighed. “Silly me.”
“There’s a spare? Surely there’s a spare, Mistress?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“How about your other keys?”
I explained to him that wouldn’t work. I had – after all – ordered this belt from a Chinese Wholesale site, and you know my escapades with them. There was nothing for it, I declared. I’d have to order another from the vendor. On the bright side, I smiled, it shouldn’t take more than two to three weeks to arrive.