Once Bitten, Twice Shy

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY
By Shirley Heelas1

She bit my nose! Can you believe that? Without a thought, without a twinge of guilt, she took the sides of my head in her hands and bit my nose!
After everything I had done for her. These ten years of selfless devotion. Nothing was too good for my princess. Nothing was too much trouble. Money no object. Yet she did such a terrible thing. And on her birthday too.
I had loved this woman from the moment I met her ten years, three months, two weeks and two days ago. It had been love at first sight.
Friends and colleagues had warned me that on her side it had been lust at first sight. Oh no, not lust for my body, … although I believe that was present. My princess may be many things but she`s not that good an actress. … It was her lust for my millions they were worried about. I had no such qualms. I just knew she was perfect for me. Not a perfect size ten. She was, and still is, a very cuddly size eighteen. But she made me laugh, and still does. … Well, maybe not today when my nose disappeared into her mouth.
And only one minute after I had presented her birthday gift. … With trepidation. Not really knowing if she would like it or not. I had wracked my brains trying to think of what her present this year should be. Would she appreciate the effort I had gone to? Would she see the funny side?
It hadn`t been easy. Finding the company capable of creating such a work of art had been relatively easy, using the vast resources of the internet.
But there had been all of the physical discomfort involved. … And latex is quite an unpleasant experience, let me tell you!
But it had come out much better than I could ever have envisaged. Well worth the not inconsiderable cost.
I thought she would cherish it. … At least for a while. I thought it would go white with age in a glass case in the dining room, proudly exhibited to dinner guests and other visitors.
I at least thought she would marvel at it, maybe photograph it, ask me how I had come up with the idea and how I`d made it a reality. But oh no, that wasn`t her reaction at all.
I remember her face as she pulled the ribbon and the bow fell away on top of the box. I remember vividly her bemused expression as she peered down into the box, not sure what it was she was looking at.
And then the smile growing in intensity, and her eyes widening and sparkling as she pulled out the surprise. She looked from my face to its perfect likeness, then back to me. Then she looked at both again, obviously marvelling at the incredible piece of art held in her hands.
“I had a mould made”, I explained. “Had to sit and suffer with straws up my nostrils while the latex set.”
I think she only uttered one word, “Incredible!” Then those luscious red lips of hers encompassed the perfectly formed nose. … And then it was gone!
Well, she never could resist chocolate.2