“Right, we’re going on a little holiday,” he said. “Jimmy says he knows a perfect place. We’re going.”
“Jimmy?” I started protesting.
Jimmy the centaur could reliably be said to be a bit of a banana skin. Tread carefully with him. The last time we tried organizing a centaur-human swingers party, he failed to mention that centaur poo wasn’t magical and did not disappear on it’s own and while centaurs were half people and only half horses, they still pooped like horses. The lady whose garden we were using wasn’t best pleased for all the extra manure. Not sure how thrilled she’d be to host another party any time in the near future after all the havoc Jimmy’s buddies wreaked in her garden.
“Yes. Jimmy. You need a break,” Mike was staring at me very serious,”and Jimmy messaged me a while back about a beach holiday possibility. We’re taking it.”
“A beach holiday?” I was struggling with processing many different feelings at the same time. My body was so so tired. I could hardly lift a fork and the mere thought of a sunny beach somewhere was like a warm cuddle from Santa; it immediately made my muscles relax and a warm, comfortable feeling rush through me. But it was Jimmy.
“Look, I know Jimmy’s a bit of… an idiot,” Mike said kneeling beside me, “but I’ll be there, babe. You know that. I’ll take care of you.” he held my hands in his big bear-like paws. My little black hands looked so tiny there, cupped safely in his.
“Yeah, yeah, I know you will,” I said smiling up at him. “I’m just not sure how relaxing it’s going to be with that big walnut prancing around.”
“It’ll be good,” Mike grinned. “Just need to pack some food. Jimmy says they only get human-food shipments once a week if there’s humans around, so pack our own in case they haven’t gotten it yet.”
“Wait.. what? ‘Human food’… where the fuck exactly is this place?”
aked and sexy and some slight tomfoolery is involved.
sandy papas 