Flaws And All by Nikki Winter

 
     
    Chapter One
     
                “Wait, are you actually stating you’re not excited about being able to finally fuck your husband after an eight-week hiatus?”
    Samara Blackwell-Antonelli took a quick glance around the small café that she and her older, louder, sister were currently sitting in and…yup, there were stares. She glared across the table. “Say it louder, Nyssa. I don’t think those currently residing in Narniaheard you.”
    Why did she do this to herself? Telling her sibling things was a natural inclination, but Jesus Christ at the moment she would rather being doing anything else…like taking a fist to the ovaries.
    “All I’ve been hearing from you for weeks on end is how much you miss the D, need the D, want the D, and now the D is in your hands and you’re not gonna take it?” Nyssa sat back, rubbing her temples as if they were publicly discussing her vaginal demands. “I feel like pieces of the sky are about to start falling on my head.”
    “How about we make it lumps of dirt?” Samara hissed. “Stop announcing to the world how much I’ve been longing for the use of my spouse’s sexual organs.”
    Nyssa’s arms flung out as she bellowed, “It’s a cock! Call it a cock! You’ve been married for what three years now? I think you’re allowed to refer to it as a cock!”
    “Sweet Jesus…” Samara’s forehead hit the table as eyes swung in their direction. “Why is God punishing me? Why are we related? Why was Jane Lynch not chosen for the role of my sister?”
    “Because no one else would do it better than I do.”
    “I’m going to argue that point because Jane Lynch does everything better than you do.”
    She should’ve seen that pinch coming.
    “Ow!”
    “Stop your whining and tell me why you’re suddenly uninterested in a certain Italian’s salami,” the other woman prodded.
    Samara sat up, eyes narrowed on her sister. “It’s not that I’m uninterested, it’s just that I prefer that my husband notgo screaming into the night the moment I get undressed.” There. She said it. She was insecure. For nine longmonths and two weeks of extra time Samara had shared her body with one of the most beautiful human beings she’d ever have the pleasure of knowing—her daughter. Beautiful? Yes. Angelic? No.
    Gianna Samantha Antonelli had come into the world screamingher outrage about being kicked out of her comfortable, but very cramped, living arrangements in her mother’s womb.  At a full nine pounds and ten ounces, she’d managed to beat her older brother’s record of being the heaviest goddamn baby Samara had ever seen. When Samara’s water hadn’t broken on its own after a week and a half past her daughter’s due date, her OB/GYN decided it was time to induce. The relief from that choice was forgotten during her hours of labor and delivery where there was continuous screeching in her husband’s face that consisted of, “I don’t love you anymore!” “I can’t believe I let you touch me!” and “If you ever put your cock near me again by God, I will peel it like a plantain!” Of course afterwards there were more reasonable comments like, “Look at what we did,” “She has your eyes,” and “You know I didn’t really mean it when I said I’d stab you in the face, right?”
                    Her husband, her Luciano, saint that he was, had held off from doing more than brushing his mouth against her own or the occasional backrub since their new resident made it very clear she was nothere for their shit. Gianna was demanding in three areas—time, food, and attention. So help you God if you were to get slack in even oneof those. So Luc had patiently held out, giving Samara glances every now and again that distinctly said, “Why can’t I play with my favorite toys?” and “Why does baby Jesus hate me so much?” It was nice to know she was desired. The issue was, Samara wasn’t