Chapter Seven: The Horse Fair
A few weeks (and some tender parts) later, Scorlett went to visit Column in his priesty, little, Irish shack. It was the first time she had ever ventured to his bachelor pad, after being distracted by Lord Fenton the first time, so she was excited to see his humble dwelling and then write about how much better her house was than his in her diary that night.
When she arrived she couldn't help but feel creeped out by all of the tacky Catholic paraphernalia that was plastered all over his walls. Multiple Jesus statues watched her as she fetched them a cup of tea out of his Jesus teapot, Jesus teacups and, of course, Jesus tea cozy. She could feel all the saintly eyes on her and suddenly felt very ashamed, what with all the kinky stuff her and Fenton were up to in the bedchamber lately.
"Here's your tea", she set the cup down in front of Column.
"Thanks", he sipped the tea and waggled his brow at her ass as she sat down on the next seat parallel from him. "So, what's new with ye lately?"
"Had a baby, got my uterus pulled out, along with other numerous body parts. Grandmas an idiot, she should know C-sections don't start above your belly button".
"I hate when that happens", Column sighed.
Scorlett gave him an odd look but continued anyway, all of a sudden feeling repulsed by the very creature she had found so deliciously sexy when she first met him. I guess nothing could compare to the Fenton now.
"I want to get a good piece of horse flesh", she thought back to her horse ride with Lord Fenton last Wednesday, they went bare back (and not just on the horse either). Scorlett blushed and continued, "Where can I get one?"
Column briefly thought of mentioning that she could find it in the form of his genitalia, but he kept his mouth shut. "How about I take you to a horse fair next week?"
"Sounds wonderful", Scorlett said through gritted teeth.
The horse fair was a big event in Ireland, the finest pieces of horse flesh were pumpin' their great loins through generations of tough, heavyweight champions, and I mean those badboys could drink you under the table, and go home and bang yo mama. The sweet air filled with the smells of horseshit, fat, boxing men, stick in an apple, and an abundance of redheads made Scorlett woozy with delight. Column, on the other hand, was focused on one thing, and one thing only, he knew she had been seeing an anonymous English man in his absence and wanted her full attention back on him. He played the flute from a passerby, he preached with passion in front of an unamused crowd, he tamed a wild bucking bronco, and even snuck into the bushes and ate a small, stray orphan selling newspapers…but anyways, the point is, she was not impressed. Not only unimpressed, she hardly noticed anything he was doing. All that filled her puny, little brain was recollections of boozed up boob grabs in the lobbies of hotels, wild blonde hair, and a sly smile on the face of that Lord Fenton; even that strong sturdy shaft, the one not only down below, but the one he used in role play night, spanking his pony Scorlett-whipping her into shape.
"That's the stuff dreams are made of", she cooed.
"What was that Scorlett? You say something?" Column asked concerned.
"Oh no, sorry, I was just –AHHHH!"
She screamed so loud Column pulled out a gun and fired three quick rounds into the air in terror and surprise. The crowd paid no attention.
"Oh my god, Column, that's my ex-husband...he's eyein' that white horse, the one over there that's so beautiful it could be in a fantasy of me riding it in a white fuzzy nightgown…" She trailed off, bug eyed and gazing at the tall man at a nearby corral.
He turned to see a man with a prominent, proud mustache and a straw hat, wearing a heavy, blue suede suit, and sporting a bullet hole in his chin the size of Texas.
"Glory be to god, Scorlett, that's him? Why... he's beautiful...there's somethin' so familiar about him, I can't quite put my finger on..."
Column's mouth dropped as Scorlett abandoned him to go up to the tall, hairy man. Memories consumed the love struck priest, the only two he's ever loved, were once married.
Scorlett strutted over to Butthoarder, her eyes blazing, her chest heaving at just the thought of him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mustache sensed a beast approaching, and not of the horse variety. It was Scorlett, he could smell and see her from a mile away. All of those months he thought he had finally been rid of her, and she shows up. And in Ireland too…what the hell?
"Why, hello there Mr. Butthoarder", she smiled through pointy chompers.
"Why, Scorlett, is that you? Why good golly miss Molly, shoot me down and call me a dolphin raper, what are you doing here?" Scorlett was surprised that Butthoarder didn't run away screaming like half the men in her life did.
Mustache furrowed and then gave a small growl.
"Down boy", Rhett hissed through gritted teeth.
"Well, I'm just here for some good horse flesh, you know? No better horse flesh then here in Ireland", Scorlett giggled to herself. Of course that phrase was true for the horses and the hot, anonymous sex she had with a certain British Earl.
"Indeed that is so; I'm here for the same reason as well".
"Oh, you're having hot, steamy sex with a British Earl too?"
"Uhhhhhhhh?"
"Ruuuuhhhhh?"
"Ohh, ooopps, teehee, just ignore that comment", Scorlett snorted with laughter. "Anyway what kinda horse flesh you looking for then?"
"I was thinking about getting this white horse", Rhett smiled sticking his hand out into the corral so the horse would come over to him. The horse saw his hand, gave a winy scream and ran off in the other direction.
"Don't get a white horse…they stain too easily", Scorlett said seriously.
"Umm, excuse me, what do you mean by that my dear?" Mustache perked up with interest.
"They stain, well I mean white does blend with white, but you can tell after a few goes on it".
"A few goes?"
"A few romps on the horse I mean-Ohhh, oops, forget I said that".
Even though it wasn't night time and the sun was still shining brightly, the whole fair seemed to go quiet and crickets came out for a five second serenade.
"I must be going…talk to you later, Rhett", she gave a disgustingly sugary smile and strutted off back to a gaping Column.
Rhett stroked his chin, his brow furrowed in thought, and then him and Mustache shared a confused look.
They both pondered the thought of staining a white horse, then burst into immature laughter together, and resentfully Mustache smiled a little at the joke.
Column was standing now, as sexily as he could, half leaning trying to be cool against a fence post that bent as soon as he touched it. Like his own gravitational pull threw the post almost to the ground. Scorlett ignored him and hurried past him, to strut her stuff away from such a blimp, such a beached whale of a man. She needed to show Rhett that her ass hadn't completely lost its shape after childbirth, and the weight gain that accompanied it.
Column didn't take it too personally as he had caught the eye of another, a Mr. Butthoarder, their twinkling eyes met and they shared a sexy little smile. Until Column winked, bringing back memories from the time they shared a man cave in Mexico. Those hot, sticky nights in nothing but rompers and baby oil. They were crazy back then, and so was Column's heart, he fell for him almost immediately.
They met while gunrunning in Mexico and for a secretive closed mouthed exchange. Then a sudden rare Mexican hurricane hit up in the mountains and they were forced to take shelter in a cave for 3 months. They survived only on rainwater and 38 chocobars Column had bought from a small boy in town, who he later made into a stew in the back of a dirty bar. Butthoarder was lonely and so was Column, but there was one difference between their sexual encounters, Butthoarder was lookin' for some fun, and Columns heartstrings got caught up, and he got hurt...after they made it out of the mountains, they parted ways, and never were to speak of what horrid, kinky man sex they had up there again.
Their gaze broke, and Column's heart cracked, he rubbed his nipple longingly at Butthoarder, and when he looked away, Column felt as shot down as that little boy in Mexico.
Mustache looked at Column as well, trying to recall all of the memories Butthoarder and he had shared. Mustache could remember the face, but that wasn't what was bothering him, there was something about that man that gave him the creeps, something not so inanimate about one of his body parts….and then Mustache remembered. He saw the curly, sandy corkscrew hairs flap in the mind and Mustache gasped. It was Column's Curly Qs, how on earth could Mustache forget those sadistic Curly Qs? It was all coming back to him now, when Butthoarder and Column were locked away in their Mexican cabin, Mustache and Curly Qs had also experimented on each others bodies, and it was an experience that Mustache thought he had finally forgotten…until now.
