Simpsons Porn Story: Unexpected Connections Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: The song I use in this chapter and a bit in Chapter 6 is “Something in the Air” by Lila McCann. I do not own this song.

So, then I say to the guy, Yasemwa watu wale ni wageni, Mr. Smithers recited.

I listened intently. What does that mean?

Say, they tell me those people are strangers! Mr. Smithers and I began laughing at his humorous anecdote as I caught a glimpse of Mr. Burns staring at us with covetous eyes. He had been staring at us like that the entire night, and I tried to ignore it.

Oh, Mr. Smithers, I cant believe you did that! I exclaimed.

Sometimes I cant either! he replied, impeding his chuckles. He sighed happily. Oh, Miss Simpson, Africas an interesting place. Ill tell you that.

I smiled and stared giddily at my nights companion. He was so worldly and refined and so darn smart. Id never met anyone like him. And just as I was about to ask for another interesting story, my mom approached our table and made her presence known with her trademark grunt.

Why, hello, Marge! Mr. Burns said gleefully, looking my mom up and down in a perverted way that I sorely disliked. Are you coming to sit with us?

Hello, Mr. Burns. No, I just needed to talk to Lisa.

Oh, please. Just let me stay here. Dont ruin this. Please. Sure, Mom. What did you need?

As Mr. Burns and Mr. Smithers began to talk, my mom lowered her voice and said, I was just wondering if youd like to come sit with your family for the rest of the night.

I was afraid she would ask me this. I didnt no how to respond. In the past, I would have sycophantically obeyed her and gone against my own wishes for what my family wanted or needed. I had sacrificed my personal happiness for that of my familys all my life. But I wasnt sure I could do it this time. MomI I looked into her wide, concerned eyes. I

She looked down. Oh. I see, she said, keeping her eyes to the ground. Well, if you change your mind, theres always a seat for you at the Simpson table.

I nodded and tried not to meet her eyes. Thanks, Mom, I whispered.

She nodded and walked off, back to a family thatwithout meshe really couldnt relate to. I sighed with guilt, but tried to push it out of my stomach. Which actually proved not as difficult as I would have thought when my favorite song began to play. I gasped. Oh, this is my favorite song!

Mr. Smithers turned from Mr. Burns to me. Really? You like Lila McCann?

Do I! I exclaimed, watching all the couples out on that shiny dance floor, wishing Mr. Smithers and I were one of them. I sang along quietly, Under a harvest moon, love is about to bloom. I looked over at Mr. Smithers and, completely swept away by the moment, did something I never thought I was bold enough to do. Mr. Smithers, would you like to dance with me?

He looked surprised and unsure. He hesitated, and then smiled. Well, sure, Miss Simpson. Why not?

Of course, we stood far apart as we danced, but I didnt care. My hands were in his, the music was ideal and my first slow dance with a boy was with one I truly liked. It was perfect. I listened to the lyrics of the song and internally beamed. You never see it coming, no. There isn’t a warning, no reason, not a sign. But you can feel it everywhere. There’s something in the air.

As Mr. Smithers and I danced, I felt my mothers concerned stare, my brothers delighted and deriding one, and Mr. Burns almost envious one. Ignore them. Ignore them, I told myself.

But I couldnt ignore one couple: a middle-aged worker and the most beautiful woman in the room. The woman Mr. Smithers suddenly couldnt stop staring at. Finally, the couple was dancing next to us, and the eyes of the womans met Mr. Smithers. Maggie? he said with shock. Is that you? I watched the scene with curiosity and envy and anger at the possibility of my perfect moment being ruined.

The woman smiled slyly. Hello, Waylon. Its been a long time.

Mr. Smithers hands linked with mine began to perspire. M-Maggiewhatwhat are you doing here?

As you can see, I have a date. Its not like I came to see you. Dont worry about that, she said, her green, catlike eyes speaking nothing of her true feelings.

Mr. Smithers continued to falter in his speech. ButI mean

And I see you have yourself a date too, she said, looking down at me, smiling mockingly. Going for the younger set instead of the older set this time, Waylon? Hm. And her age isnt the only thing that is wrong about her for you, now, is it?

As his face turned red with ire, Mr. Smithers said, Maggie, please, lets try to be civil, shall we?

Of course, we shall, she said unconvincingly. It was nice talking to you, Waylon. Have a good life, and tell Mr. Burns I said, Hello. This last bit was delivered with obvious edge and hatred, lacking her veil of affected civility. At this point, she took her dates hand and left the dance floor.

Mr. Smithers sighed deeply. Im sorry, Miss Simpson. I think I need a drink. We began to walk off the dance floor together when I asked pryingly, Ex-girlfriend?

Worse. Ex-wife, he replied, pouring himself a drink and sitting down anxiously with it. He looked at me sadly and said, Maybe you should go sit with your family for the rest of the night. I dont think Ill be very good company.

I hesitated, then nodded dejectedly. Okay, Mr. Smithers.

Thank you for your company for the better half of the evening, Mr. Smithers said. Ill see you at the plant?

I smiled weakly. Yeah. Ill see you.