Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Originally published at Sythyry. Please leave any comments there.

Adultery Porridge [2 Chirreb 4261]

It was a glorious day, even if the administrative part of it
was frustrating. Ilottat and I were walking all over campus
in the delightful weather of a fine early first-autumn day,
holding hands or having me ride his shoulder as appropriate
to my current shape. Then we had a nice and extremely large
dinner at Candledance, and wandered back to the embassy
intending an evening of me borrowing another Orren outfit or
two, in his most feminine cuts. Or maybe from one of his
neighbors.

Here’s what was lurking there:


Hi there, Sythers. Ysgwyd here — you remember me, the wife
of the guy you’re screwing. I don’t know where to reach you
by the usual way, but I figured my husband would know where
to reach you. Where to reach you to get it to count
… well, actually, I don’t really know that much about Zi
Ri, does he stick his pointy in you somewhere? Where the
dashitzie does it even fit? You’re so little! I
really ought to check his dirty book collection sometime and
find out. Next time I’m in town, if my own bit-on-the-side
is too busy some afternoon.

[The original was rather more explicit. -bb]

She rambled on for another two or three paragraphs in an
incoherent hash of inappropriate familiarity, cheery
vulgarity and barbed little reminders that (1) she’s
Ilottat’s actual wife, and (2) she’s just as traff and
adulterous as he is, just more honest about it.

Ilottat got a letter about twice as long and four times as
disgusting, including a detailed account of her copulations
with a pair of married Cani men who wanted a female but
didn’t feel right about collecting a Cani they weren’t
married to. “I know you really don’t like mammals
that much, but you ought to try getting two Cani
pointies stuffed in you at once. They’re so enthusiastic!
Not like you! I don’t need Zi Ri pornography to get
them going! And they’re not even traff — and not
like you’re not traff, I mean they said they’d never had an
Orren before.”

This didn’t really make for the start of a good evening. I
can’t really figure out how to say what the fight was
about. I guess it wasn’t about what it was about. It was
about how we’re both unsettled by Ysgwyd’s letters, and how
we’re expecting the other one to cheer us up instead of
realizing that we needed to cheer the other one up. It’s
obvious looking at it from afterwards. It wasn’t at the
time.

We didn’t exactly make up either. I mean, we comforted each
other a bit, and apologized a bit, and I flew home. Without
borrowing clothes. Still a bit hurt.

(She writes him this sort of letter a few times a year. This
is the first one she’s written me, of course.)

And tomorrow I go to see Vae again and have The Conversation
a few more times and hopefully get this umbrella spell taken
off. And to cast some random spells to exercise those Nouns
and Verbs.

I’d really like to just write “Classes, dinner with my
boyfriend, studying, bed with my boyfriend — another boring
day.”

I don’t have a boyfriend, though. I’m
borrowing a boyfriend. That stings, a lot.

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