melting into his.
‘Mary,’ she said, slightly embarrassed. ‘Mary Pierce .’ *
Jezzy and Adrian
Shirley MacL aine was giving Jack Lemmon one of those looks, her face totally feline and her eyes twinkling like a minx. The look on Jack’s face was indescribably brilliant, one which had helped to make this movie a true classic. The light of the LCD screen lit up the living room as Jezzy and Adrian watched The Apartment for perhaps the twelfth time. It was close to 10pm. Jezzy wore bright red sweat pants, a white shoe string strap vest and no bra. She didn’t need one as her breasts were small and sat up nicely. Her hair fell in dark blonde clouds around her shoulders. She reached for the popcorn, thinking that it should come with a side of toothpicks because it always got stuck in your teeth and you always had to try to pick it out when the guy was looking the other way. Dating was so fucking stressful. You had to think about every little thing all the time. It made her tired. Physically . M entally.
Adrian suddenly laughed at Jack. ‘I Love Jack, there’s never been anyone like him. He’s funny, sexy, charming, he’s just superb.’
Jezzy thought that Adrian’s musings of Jack were a little too over eager.
Adrian wore a green, stretched out, baggy T-shirt and jeans. He had a tiny butt, a slender waist and a very spotty back. Fuck, thought Jezzy, feeling as if she were clinging to the greasy rim of a well, from the inside. She was in way too deep now. His hand reached for hers. Large hands with fingers that were muscular from decades of piano playing. He began to stroke her stomach. Her body was taut and pale, but she’d always had a little rounded tummy. She hated it. Men seemed to like it. Adrian’s finger traced around her belly button, disappearing slowly beneath her waistband. Sweatpants were invented for this, thought Jezzy. She was already wet and had been since the start of the movie, just from watching him, a slight smile paying across his lips, watching the TV. The light from the screen flickered across his face, dark shadows disappearing into the furrows of his cheeks. As he laughed, his teeth seemed to glow. The credits began to roll as his middle finger slid inside her. She used her muscles to squeeze him from inside, already feeling full as she had always been small and tight and had been doing pelvic floor exercises for as long as she could remember. His other hand cupped her face and his warm tongue moistened her lips. Breathing her name, his breath smelt of coffee and popcorn. He lightly kissed her nose, around her mouth, down to her throat, as his finger probed inside her. She pulled at his T-shirt, wanting to see his flesh, reaching in for his small, hard nipples, like tiny ball bearings. The TV light sent beautiful shadows across his body. He had a row of three small moles on his chest, just beneath his left shoulder. She knew she would have to look at them every time they fucked face to face and the thought made her feel sick with familiarity. His tongue eased down her neck towards her breasts. Real, soft tits and deep pink swelling nipples. He took one between his teeth, letting it grow inside his mouth. Shit. She’d done it again, allowing herself to be bewitched by him. Could she ever get away like she had once before?
*
Meringue
Sunshine streamed through the windows of the little apartment just below Sunset, east of Crescent Heights. The sky looked as crisp as a bright blue cracker, as if it had preened itself to be cast as The Big Blue in a new Paramount epic. Across Hollywood, casting directors were sifting through headshots, achingly perfect 8’ x 10’s were plunging into garbage cans by the dozen, some hitting the trash without having even met the eyeline of the Casting Director. Still, there was promise in the air, after all this was Los Angeles: unknown one minute; Queen of the Universe
‘Mary,’ she said, slightly embarrassed. ‘Mary Pierce .’ *
Jezzy and Adrian
Shirley MacL aine was giving Jack Lemmon one of those looks, her face totally feline and her eyes twinkling like a minx. The look on Jack’s face was indescribably brilliant, one which had helped to make this movie a true classic. The light of the LCD screen lit up the living room as Jezzy and Adrian watched The Apartment for perhaps the twelfth time. It was close to 10pm. Jezzy wore bright red sweat pants, a white shoe string strap vest and no bra. She didn’t need one as her breasts were small and sat up nicely. Her hair fell in dark blonde clouds around her shoulders. She reached for the popcorn, thinking that it should come with a side of toothpicks because it always got stuck in your teeth and you always had to try to pick it out when the guy was looking the other way. Dating was so fucking stressful. You had to think about every little thing all the time. It made her tired. Physically . M entally.
Adrian suddenly laughed at Jack. ‘I Love Jack, there’s never been anyone like him. He’s funny, sexy, charming, he’s just superb.’
Jezzy thought that Adrian’s musings of Jack were a little too over eager.
Adrian wore a green, stretched out, baggy T-shirt and jeans. He had a tiny butt, a slender waist and a very spotty back. Fuck, thought Jezzy, feeling as if she were clinging to the greasy rim of a well, from the inside. She was in way too deep now. His hand reached for hers. Large hands with fingers that were muscular from decades of piano playing. He began to stroke her stomach. Her body was taut and pale, but she’d always had a little rounded tummy. She hated it. Men seemed to like it. Adrian’s finger traced around her belly button, disappearing slowly beneath her waistband. Sweatpants were invented for this, thought Jezzy. She was already wet and had been since the start of the movie, just from watching him, a slight smile paying across his lips, watching the TV. The light from the screen flickered across his face, dark shadows disappearing into the furrows of his cheeks. As he laughed, his teeth seemed to glow. The credits began to roll as his middle finger slid inside her. She used her muscles to squeeze him from inside, already feeling full as she had always been small and tight and had been doing pelvic floor exercises for as long as she could remember. His other hand cupped her face and his warm tongue moistened her lips. Breathing her name, his breath smelt of coffee and popcorn. He lightly kissed her nose, around her mouth, down to her throat, as his finger probed inside her. She pulled at his T-shirt, wanting to see his flesh, reaching in for his small, hard nipples, like tiny ball bearings. The TV light sent beautiful shadows across his body. He had a row of three small moles on his chest, just beneath his left shoulder. She knew she would have to look at them every time they fucked face to face and the thought made her feel sick with familiarity. His tongue eased down her neck towards her breasts. Real, soft tits and deep pink swelling nipples. He took one between his teeth, letting it grow inside his mouth. Shit. She’d done it again, allowing herself to be bewitched by him. Could she ever get away like she had once before?
*
Meringue
Sunshine streamed through the windows of the little apartment just below Sunset, east of Crescent Heights. The sky looked as crisp as a bright blue cracker, as if it had preened itself to be cast as The Big Blue in a new Paramount epic. Across Hollywood, casting directors were sifting through headshots, achingly perfect 8’ x 10’s were plunging into garbage cans by the dozen, some hitting the trash without having even met the eyeline of the Casting Director. Still, there was promise in the air, after all this was Los Angeles: unknown one minute; Queen of the Universe
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