It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon, and you’re spending it watching television with your fiancée. Warm and toasty under a blanket, you look up at Mark. He’s sweet and has a lot going for him; a ton of girls would be thrilled to marry a guy like him.
But that doesn’t stop the occasional doubt from creeping in.
The two of you watch a show that he likes and you don’t, but you don’t mind. The show breaks for commercial and, suddenly, as if you’ve just been dunked in a vat of freezing water, your heart stops. You take a hard swallow and think not again.
It’s him. And this this time you’re not sure if you can handle it.
He stands at about three-foot five, although his essence is much larger. A long, slender body covered in orange fur and black spots that you can lose yourself in. And a soft, but not fat, white stomach that you just want to curl into after a bad day.
There’s no way around it, Chester Cheetah is hot.
In a panic, you consider scrambling for the remote. But you can’t let Mark suspect a thing. He can’t know. Nobody can. They won’t understand. You just have to sit there and take it; and not in the way that you want.
In this commercial, he’s disguised himself as a student in a classroom. But Chester, ever the goof, has forgotten to conceal his beard. His white, wispy brush that signals that has the experience that you need in a partner. He knows what you want, and he knows how to give it to you.
You look at Mark’s beardless face. Can he satisfy you for the rest of your life in ways you know Chester can?
Chester rips off his school clothes, unveiling himself to the world. God, he’s so cool. Stylish shoes, sunglasses, and no clothes; a timeless and unbeatable style. What’s he hiding under those sunglasses? An assured confidence? Or maybe a hidden vulnerability that only you can understand?
No! This must stop. Chester isn’t real, and he probably never was. You need to compose yourself. Deep breaths. Think of Mark, the love of your life, the man you’re going to marry. You love him because he’s a compassionate, thoughtful human. Without fur. Although…wouldn’t it be nice for him to have a little fur? Just enough for you to feel on your bare skin in the candlelight.
There’s no point, Chester is just too cool. He’d never go for a girl like you. He’s a three-dimensionally animated spokes-cheetah for a child’s snack, and what do you have? A mortgage and a master’s degree? That’s not cool. He could have anyone, human woman or cartoon animal, that he wanted. Pining over him is just no use.
“You want to watch something else?” Mark asks as you find yourself wondering how many ways Chester can use his tail.
“Um…” You hesitate. Chester is generously tossing bags of cheetos to children in the classroom. Generosity with cheetos, the very thing that sustains him, shows that he must be a generous lover. Mark isn’t generous. He hardly even goes down on you anymore.
“Babe?” Mark asks.
Something is wrong; he’s noticed your hesitation. Can he sense your flamin’ hot loins? You need to think of something. Fast.
“Hand me the remote.” You say, muting the TV when he does.
“What are you-” He starts before you jump on top of him.
You glance behind you. Chester is gone, replaced by a fucking yogurt ad or something. Someday, perhaps, you’ll get what you so desperately desire. But not today. Today you make do with what you have.
Mark smiles up at you. “The usual, or…”
You smile. He’s learning.
“Get the orange hoodie.”
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