Not to be read by anyone under 18, unless your a hot chick.
In which case my address is:
6669 NE 89th St.
Seattle, WA (not really, but you can still drop by and see who lives there if you want)
The following is completely fictional. Any resemblance to reality is entirely coincidental. Contents of this story are merely creative license, not unlike a TV show or movie that uses real people in fictional settings and situations. However, if you do have video or pictures of events similar to the ones described below, feel free to forward them to me for closer examination. Feedback, comments, praise, criticism,
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Chapter 10 was supposed to be out on the 13th, but I must have submitted it too late because it didn’t make it into the update. That means I’ll probably wind up with two chapters in the same update. Read #10 first if you haven’t already because this one picks up right where it left off.
“If I had those golden dreams of my yesterday, I would wrap you in the heavens.” – Bad Company ‘Feel Like Making Love’
Adventures In Radio #11 – Broken
After picking myself up off of the side of the road, I crawled back into my car and drove to the nearest hospital. Limping my way towards the door of the hospital, I saw someone running out towards me. Seeing that he was wearing a white coat and a stethoscope, I made the logical assumption that he was a doctor.
“Are you OK?” The doctor asked in a high pitched voice when he was closer.
Shaking my head no, I could feel my legs getting ready to give out on me. Feeling blood trickling down my chin, and my eye starting to swell shut, I lifted my head to look at the doctor. First thing I noticed was that HE was actually a SHE, and a pretty young she at that. With a plain, unremarkable face, I gathered that she had spent most of her life in the pursuit of becoming a doctor and not on learning the best ways to apply makeup. She was pretty, but in the natural way that someone like Vanessa Carlton is. She had straight black hair, that was pulled back into a ponytail that ended just below her shoulders.
“Come on, lets get you some help,” she said, putting her arm around my waist to help me walk. I could smell cigarettes on her, so I guessed that she had either been out here having a quick smoke, or she had been outside taking in the fresh night air with the smokers. Since non-smokers rarely hang out with smokers while they’re smoking, I assumed that the first option was the more likely one.
As soon as we were inside the hospital, I found myself on a gurney being wheeled into an exam room. I was slipping in and out of consciousness, so it was no surprise that the next few hours were little more than a haze. I remember surfacing long enough to get a shot in the ass, and then coming to long enough to see a doctor stitching up the cut on my forehead. Outside of that, all I remember are visions of rabbits hopping into a shredder.
Waking up the next morning, I opened my eyes to the sight of the doctor from last night standing over my bed looking at my chart.
“Good morning, Mr. Tozier,” she greeted me, an Irish accent in her voice that I had completely missed the previous night.
“Morning,” I managed to say.
“You were in pretty bad shape last night,” she said, stating the obvious. “It seems you have a concussion and a hairline fracture in your ankle. I’m surprised you were able to walk, let alone drive, last night.”
“I wasn’t far away,” I said.
“I don’t care how far away you were, you should have called an ambulance. Instead you chose to drive, where you could have passed out or lost control at any minute. It wouldn’t have taken much for you to have killed yourself and who knows who else while you were driving around,” she said, lecturing me.
“Sorry, I just needed a doctor and didn’t stop to think about whether I should drive or not. I just did it. Besides, my phone broke,” I said, irritated at her.
“It looks like you’re going to be here a few days, is there anyone you want called?” She asked, apparently done giving me the third degree.
“Yeah, you should probably call my mom. She’ll be hysterical that I’m in the hospital, but she’ll be even madder if I don’t tell her. If you bring me a phone, I’ll make the calls,” I said.
“There’s one on the table next to the bed when you need it,” she said before turning and walking out of the room.
Finding myself alone in the room, I reached over to grab the phone off the table. The mere act of twisting my body around to reach for the phone sent waves of pain through my bruised body. Fighting the pain, I grabbed the phone and pulled it onto my lap. Not sure whether I should call my mom first to let her know what happened or work to let them know that I wouldn’t be in, I let my fingers do the walking to see which number they’d dial first.
Holding the receiver to my ear, I wasn’t all that surprised to hear Matt’s voice pick up the phone and say “Hello?”
“Hi Matt, it’s Richie,” I said. “Can you tell Kenny that I’m not going to be in today?”
“What, are you too tired from fucking Beyonce all night or something?” He asked rhetorically.
“No, I’m in the hospital, dickface,” I told him.
“Why are you in the hospital, and why’d you call me dickface?” He asked, concerned.
“I got the shit beat out of me last night,” I answered. “I’ve got a concussion and a broken ankle. They want me to stay for a couple days.”
“That sucks,” Matt said, stating the obvious. “Do you know who jumped you?”
“Not really. All I know is that it was one of Jay-Z’s entourage,” I answered.
“You little fucker,” Matt said, laughing. “Guys only beat guys up for touching their wives or girlfriends, so I guess that answers the question of if you were able to get into her pants.”
“Yeah, I got into her pants but it cost me quite a bit. It seems he’d been following us and then made his presence felt with extreme prejudice,” I explained.
“That just might teach you to keep it in your pants,” Matt said.
“Yeah, I think I’ll be more careful next time. I have to call my mom now and listen to her have a cow about her baby boy being in the hospital. Be sure to tell Kenny I won’t be in for a couple days,” I reminded him.
“I will, and be sure to get better man,” Matt said.
“I’ll sure as hell try. Later,” I said as I hung up the phone. Picking it back up, I steeled myself for the next call I had to make.
“Hello?” My asked as she picked up the other end.
“Hi mom,” I answered.
“Hi Richie, why are you calling this early? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I’m not going to be able to make in to work for a couple days,” I said, trying to play it cool.
“Why not? What’s wrong?” She asked, the concern already showing in her voice.
“I’m in the hospital,” I responded.
“What happened? Did you get in a wreck?”
“No, I got in a fight last night. I managed to crawl back into my car and get to the hospital, but they say I have a concussion and a fractured ankle. They want me to stay a couple days, but I’m fine. No need to worry,” I tried to assure her.
“My son’s in the hospital and I’m not supposed to worry?”
“I’m fine mom,” I repeated. “You and dad can visit me tonight after you get off work. I can manage fine.”
“I’m on my way out the door now, and I’ll call your dad from the car. What hospital are you at?” She asked.
Giving her the name of the hospital and trying once more to assure her that I was fine, I found myself unable to waylay her fears that her only son was on his deathbed. Hanging up the phone, I shook my head at my mom’s inability to accept the fact that I was in good hands.
The next couple days flew by in a haze of painkillers and visits from friends and family. My mom spent most of the time in my room and the rest of the time drinking vending machine coffee in the waiting room. My sisters dropped by with their kids, and of course everyone had to sign my cast. Matt and a few guys from the radio station dropped by to make sure I was fine, and then left to go find some beer to drink and loose women to chase. The best part however, was when Elisha stopped by in between filming episodes for the new season of ’24.’
“You better get well soon,” she told me as she sat on the edge of my bed wearing low rise jeans and a pink tank top that came down to just above her belly button.
“I will, but I think I may need some tender loving care,” I said, still able to flirt in my condition.
“Well, we’ll just have to see if we can arrange that,” she said, winking as she picked up the pen that was sitting on the table. “But first I want to sign your cast.”
“How many guys can say that they’ve had Elisha Cuthbert sign their casts?” I asked as she leaned over to sign it. When she leaned down, her jeans lowered enough that I could see the waistband of a white thong peaking out over the top. A similar white bra strap was peaking out from under the shoulder strap of her tank top.
“A couple, but not too many recently,” she answered.
Putting my hand on her thigh as she sat back up, I said “I’m glad you came. I wish I wasn’t in the hospital for this visit, but you’re better to look at than my mom’s worried face.”
“You think I’m going to let you sit in the hospital without at least visiting you? You’re my way of promoting the show,” she said, flashing me that patented smile of hers.
Squeezing her thigh, I responded “I guess that’s what I get for letting you run rampant over my show for the last year. At least you want me for something other than my mind.”
“Yeah, I just want you for your radio show and your body,” she said, breaking into a laugh.
“They’re letting me out tomorrow, you gonna come by and see me before I go?” I asked her.
“I’ll be here,” she said. Getting up, she leaned down and kissed me. “I should be getting back to the set. Today’s rehearsal, but I thought I’d come by and see you in between rehearsals. When I get back we’re going to rehearse the next script.”
“OK, don’t forget to drop by tomorrow to see them wheel me out of here,” I called after her as she reached the door.
Looking back at me, she smiled and nodded before opening the door and walking through it. Before the door could fully close, my mom caught it and walked in.
Looking through the window, she saw Elisha walking down the hall toward the elevators and commented “She’s cute, who is she?”
“That’s Elisha,” I answered. “She’s an actress on that ’24’ show I’m always watching as you call it.”
“You’ve got an actress visiting you in the hospital? Does she know you’re only on the radio?” She asked, downplaying my job as she took a seat in the chair next to the wall.
“Yes mom,” I answered, shaking off the tone in her voice. “She’s coming back tomorrow to see me out of here.”
“She must really like you. Have you and her, you know?” She asked, making a slight jabbing motion with her hand in the same way that every guy does when he’s telling his buddies about how he fucked some chick the night before.
“Mom! I’m not going to talk about that with you,” I said, my cheeks starting to turn a deep shade of red at being asked about my sex life by my mother.
“What, everyone does it. It’s been almost a year and a half since you and Jennifer broke up, and I hope it hasn’t been that long since you’ve gotten some,” she said, undeterred by my embarrassment.
“I’m not having this conversation. I must be dreaming, yeah that’s it. I’m having a nightmare about my mom grilling me about my sex life,” I said, clenching my eyes shut tightly and covering my ears with my hands.
“Fine, don’t tell me. I was only trying to help,” she said. “Do you want anything while I’m at the vending machine?”
“No, I’m fine but you should probably get some sleep,” I told her.
“You’re probably right. I think I’ll go home and have dinner with your father. I can bring you the leftovers if you want,” she offered.
“No thanks mom, I can survive on hospital food for tonight.”
“OK, well I’ll be back in the morning to pick you up,” she said as she stood up. As she crossed to the door, she said “See you then.”
“See you then, mom,” I agreed as she left the room.
Deciding that I could use a nap since the painkillers were starting to make me drowsy, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. As I slept, dreams of getting the shit kicked out of me filled my head. Waking up a couple times in the night in a cold sweat, I half expected to see Jay-Z’s buddy standing over my bed waiting to finish the job.
Opening my eyes the next morning, I had to turn my head away from the sunshine streaming in through the window. The nurse must have been in earlier and opened the curtains because I certainly didn’t remember them being open the night before.
“Knock, knock,” Elisha said as she opened the door and peeked in. “Are you decent?”
“No, but you’re welcome to come in anyway,” I answered, my mood brightening considerably with her arrival.
“They’re finally letting you out of this place today huh?” She asked, the sunshine hitting her at such an angle so as to bathe her in an almost heavenly glow.
She had on a light yellow dress and one of the spaghetti straps was creeping across her shoulder and threatening to fall down her arm. She had her hair pulled up and a silver barrette held the cluster of hair tightly to the top of her head.
“Yeah, I finally get to go home. Good thing I broke my left ankle so I’ll still be able to drive. I could get rides to and from work from Matt, but I’d go nuts not being able to go anywhere at night. I’ll probably still spend more time at home, but it’ll be nice to do something besides watching endless hours of reality TV,” I shrugged.
“Are you dropping hints that I should keep you company?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t trying to, but yes you should keep me company. You promised me tender loving care, remember?”
“I’ll have to come over tonight,” she said, tucking a couple loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I can make you soup.”
“Soup is for people with colds. I think you’re supposed to feed steak or something to people with broken ankles,” I pointed out.
“How about take out Chinese?” She asked, offering a compromise.
“Pork fried rice, chow mien, and egg rolls,” I told her. “I’ll put my order in now so you don’t have to call me tonight to see what I want.”
“That’s pretty smart of you, but how do you know I’ll remember all that?” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to me.
“You memorize stuff for a living. If you want, just imagine that Jack’s ordering Chinese and wants fried rice, egg rolls, and chow mien in the next episode. If you can’t remember one line for a few hours, then you shouldn’t be acting,” I said, putting my hand over hers.
“So if I don’t get your order right, you’re saying that I should quit acting?” She asked, leaning down to look me eye to eye.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” I said, lifting my head to kiss her.
“You think you can just tell me to quit acting and then kiss me?” She asked, smirking as she pulled her head back.
“I said you should only quit acting if you can’t remember one line for a few hours, and then tried to kiss you,” I corrected her.
“Then I think you should quit radio if you can’t remember to play more LL Cool J,” she said, leaning down to kiss me. The smile on her face after she broke the kiss showed that she seemed to think she was being pretty funny.
Licking my lips, I said “Strawberry lip gloss, nice touch.”
Shrugging, she leaned in closer and said “I couldn’t decide between strawberry and cherry.”
“What perfume are you wearing?” I asked, smelling her neck.
“I’m not wearing one. You must be smelling my raspberry body wash,” she answered.
Lightly kissing her neck, I said “I like it. I think we better stop now before I throw you down on the bed and do unspeakable things to you.”
“What’s wrong with that?” She asked, almost purring as I continued to kiss her neck.
“Because my mom will be here any minute and I don’t really want to have her walk in while I’m doing those unspeakable things,” I said, forcing myself to stop kissing her.
“OK, I guess I’ll leave then,” she said, leaning back down to kiss me ever so lightly. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” I said, giving her hand a quick squeeze before letting go.
“What time should I come over?” She asked, standing up.
“Any time is fine. I’ll leave the key under the mat for you in case I don’t answer the door,” I said.
“I’ll be there,” she said as she crossed to the door. Opening it, she waved at me before walking out.
A few minutes later, the doctor came in and had me sign a few papers before they could release me. After that was done, they sat me in a wheel chair and wheeled me out to the front desk just as my mom was walking through the door.
“It looks like I’m right on time,” she said, seeing me.
“Perfect timing as always mom,” I said, grabbing the cane they’d given me to help me walk as I stood up.
“Have they checked you out yet?” She asked, hugging me.
“Yeah, they did it just before they wheeled me out here. All that’s left is for you to drive me home and then you can go back to work,” I said, limping my way to the door.
“I have to take care of you,” she insisted, following behind me.
“No you don’t,” I said gruffly, “I’m fine. Besides, I have a date tonight”
“With that Elisha girl?” She asked.
“Yeah. She’s coming over with dinner, and I don’t need my mommy chaperoning,” I said.
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone,” she sighed.
“Good, now lets go home. Did dad pick up my car for me?” I asked as we reached her car.
“Yeah, it should be sitting in your driveway,” she answered.
“Then lets blow this popsicle stand and get out of here,” I said, opening the passenger side door and climbing in.
+ * +
“You sure you don’t need me to make you lunch?” My mom asked as she pulled up to my house.
“No mom, I can make my own lunch,” I said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek as I opened the car door.
“I worry about you, that’s all,” she said.
“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I promise,” I said, getting out of the car.
Waving at her as she backed out of the driveway, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys. Flipping through my keys as I walked to the front door, I found the right one and inserted it into the lock. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside and immediately started cleaning. There wasn’t a whole lot of cleaning to do since I hadn’t made a mess in the last couple days, but you should always at least make it look like you made an attempt to clean up before a woman comes over.
When the beer cans were picked up and the garbage taken out, I started a load of laundry and plopped myself down on the couch to watch some TV. Being Sunday, I found a Raiders game and promptly started rooting for the other team to break Rich Gannon’s knees. When that failed, I decided that I’d settle for a good groin pull from Charles Woodson or Jerry Rice.
As the fourth quarter started, the Raiders were winning and there was no sign of a massive injury to make it worth my time. So I turned off the TV in disgust and hobbled my way into the kitchen to get a beer.
Walking back into the living room, I flipped the TV back on to see if beer was enough to lighten my mood. As the TV came on, the first thing I saw was a bunch of players standing around.
“Injury,” I screamed at the TV.
The perverse part of me that grew up watching my dad want Joe Montana to drop dead in the middle of the field, especially when they were playing his beloved Rams, actually hoped that it was one of the Raiders star players about to be carted off the field on a stretcher. No such luck though, as it turned out to only be a scrub who was merely playing because the Raiders were winning and didn’t want to risk having something like that happen to one of their big name players.
“Fuck you Al Davis,” I screamed at the TV as the cameras showed the Raiders’ owner in his private box pretending to be concerned. I emphasized the statement by changing the channel so I could watch something that wouldn’t be hazardous to my health.
Not finding anything on TV, I grabbed a plastic bag to wrap my cast in and went to take a shower. It wouldn’t be good to have a woman over when it’d been a few days since I’d bathed myself. I certainly wouldn’t want someone who smelled like that to put the moves on me, so it was pretty obvious that Elisha wouldn’t either.
I was just getting out when I heard the front door open. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I limped to the bathroom door to see who it was. When I saw Elisha closing the door behind her with a bag of groceries, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. She was still wearing the yellow dress from earlier, but she had let her hair down and it hung down around her shoulders.
As I was hobbling out of the bathroom, Elisha saw me and said “Hey there.”
“Hey babe,” I returned, walking over to her to give her a hug. “Did you think I couldn’t go grocery shopping or something?”
“I decided not to get Chinese food. Instead, I’m going to make you my famous seafood pasta. I hope you don’t mind the menu change,” she said, unpacking the bag of food onto the table.
“I guess I’ll have to get my egg roll fix another day then,” I answered.
“If you want, I’ll go out and get you some egg rolls,” she offered.
“No, you’re staying right here. I’ve been watching the Raiders win, so I need someone to cheer me up,” I told her.
“Then make yourself useful and cut up the fish,” she said, handing me a knife.
“Let me put on some clothes first,” I said, making my way into the bedroom. Rummaging through my drawers, I tossed on a t-shirt and pair of denim shorts. Going back out into the kitchen, I sat down in a chair and set to work on cutting up the fish.
When I had everything cut up to her satisfaction, I handed it to her. While she was cooking the seafood, I got out a pot to boil the angel hair pasta in.
“I can handle it from here,” she told me, shooing me out of the kitchen.
“Fine, I’ll go find a football game to watch,” I said, limping out of the kitchen.
“It should be done soon so don’t get too engrossed in the game,” she hollered after me.
“I won’t,” I promised, sitting down on the couch.
I watched the game, but my mind just wasn’t into it. My thoughts kept drifting to the attack and wondered if I could have at least put up a resistance. ‘No, then he probably really would’ve killed me,’ I thought, forcing my mind back to the game.
“It’s ready,” Elisha said, leaning around the corner of the wall that separated the living room and kitchen.
“Good, I’m famished,” I said, grabbing the cane to help me stand up.
Sitting down at the table, I set the cane down against my leg. Elisha took my plate and scooped out some angel hair pasta for me.
Spinning some around my fork, I raised it to my mouth as I watched her sit down across the table from me. Chewing on the pasta, I said “This is really good.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling. Getting up, she asked “Do you have any wine to go with this?”
“There should be a bottle of white wine that my mom gave me a few weeks ago in the fridge. My parents aren’t exactly big drinkers so she gave it to me,” I answered.
Grabbing the bottle out of the fridge, she asked “Was that your mom that was going into your room right as I was leaving yesterday?”
“Yeah, she thought you were pretty cute,” I said, grinning as she dug a corkscrew out of a drawer.
“If I’d known that was her I would’ve stuck around for a few minutes to meet her,” she said, opening the bottle of wine.
“You almost got to meet her tonight,” I told her. “She insisted on taking care of me, but I told her that I already had a nurse lined up for tonight.”
“That’s too bad, I would’ve loved to have met her,” she said, pouring a glass of wine for each of us.
“You can meet them next weekend if you want,” I offered. “My nephew has a football game. The whole family will be there for you to meet and be grilled by.”
“Sounds like fun,” she beamed.
“Just wait until my three year old niece decides that you’re fun to play with. She’ll drag you all around the place to look at flowers or dogs or something. Then we’ll see how fun you think it is,” I said.
“She’s the one in the picture on the wall of your computer room right?” Elisha asked.
“Yeah, she’s the cute one,” I answered between mouthfuls. “My nephew’s the future lady killer, and I’m the big goof ball in the picture.”
“Yeah, but I like goof balls,” she said, grinning.
“Thank god for small miracles,” I said, sticking my tongue out at her. “You really want to meet my parents?”
“Yeah, aren’t girlfriends supposed to meet their boyfriend’s parents?” She asked, catching me off guard.
“Girlfriend? I didn’t know you were serious about me,” I said, trying to hide my shock.
“We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year Richie. Don’t tell me you thought I was just a fuck buddy,” she said, her eyes narrowing as her voice rose.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that you never mentioned anything about this before,” I tried explaining. “Guys tend to assume that it’s not serious until the woman holds them down and squeezes some kind of commitment out of them.”
She sat there staring at me for a moment and just as I was beginning to think she was going to storm out, she shrugged and said “I guess I should have said something earlier. You don’t mind being my boyfriend do you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m the envy of just about every straight male out there,” I answered. “I get to be Elisha Cuthbert’s boyfriend.”
“Good, now finish your pasta so I can give you that tender loving care I promised you,” she said, winking at me as she ate a piece of shrimp off the end of her fork.
“What kind of tender loving care did you have in mind?” I asked. When I felt her bare foot stroking my leg under the table, I said “Oh, that kind.”
Without saying a word, she looked at her plate and kept rubbing her foot up my leg. Just as I picked up my glass of wine to take a drink, she pressed her foot against my crotch and I had to fight not to spit wine across the table.
Putting my glass down, I reached under the table and grabbed her foot. Stroking the bottom of her foot with tips of my fingers, I watched her as she tried to suppress a giggle. Lightly running just my fingernails along the bottom of her foot, she involuntarily jerked her foot back and smacked her knee against the bottom of the table.
“Shit,” she said, seeing her glass tip over and spill wine onto the table. Grabbing a towel, she put on a serious face and said “Look at what you made me do.”
“What I did? You were the one playing footsie with me,” I protested.
“If you didn’t tickle my foot, I wouldn’t have knocked over my glass,” she stated, matter of factly.
“Fine, I’m sorry I made you spill your wine,” I said, trying to appear as apologetic as possible.
“At least you admit it was your fault,” she said, pursing her lips tightly. Breaking into a grin, she said “I rented a movie for us.”
“You didn’t rent Ferris Beuller again did you?” I asked.
“I thought you liked it,” she said, looking a little sadder than she really should have.
“I do, but I can only watch it so many times before I start hearing Ben Stein saying ‘Beuller … Ferris Beuller’ in my head at night,” I answered, mimicking Ben Stein’s signature monotone voice.
Laughing, she said “No, I didn’t rent Ferris Bueller again. I rented ‘Chicago’. You can watch Catherine Zeta-Jones and I can watch the rest of the movie.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me, but ‘The Two Towers’ would’ve been more my speed,” I said, getting up. Grabbing my plate off the table, I carried it over to the sink and rinsed it off.
“I could have gotten that for you,” she said, rinsing her own plate off.
Putting my plate in the dishwasher, I said “I can do stuff on my own, you know. I’ve got a cast on one leg, I’m not in a wheelchair.”
“Sorry, I forget that you’re still capable of doing stuff on your own,” she said, grabbing my arm and leading me into the living room. Pushing me down on to the couch, she said “Sit down and I’ll put the movie in.”
I watched as she went back into the kitchen to grab the movie. When she came back into the room, I had my foot up on the coffee table. While she was loading the DVD into the player, I asked “Have you seen this movie yet?”
“Yeah, it was good,” she answered, inattentively.
“Was it worth all the Oscars? Oh who am I kidding, the only movies that are worth the Oscars are the ones that don’t win the Oscars,” I said sarcastically.
“Titanic was worth the Oscars,” she said, sitting down beside me once the movie was loaded.
“There were two good things about Titanic. Kate Winslet and Kate Winslet’s breasts,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“I guess I know what not to bring over next weekend,” Elisha said, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“I’ll watch it with you, but I can’t promise not to drool over Kate,” I said, putting my arm around her.
“Why drool over her when you can have me?” She asked, smiling brightly.
“That’s a very good question,” I answered, absently caressing her shoulder and upper arm with my fingers.
The movie went on and I found enjoying it quite a bit. It wasn’t as good as ‘The Two Towers’, but I could see why it won all the awards. It was everything that the Academy tends to go for, and was actually a worthier movie than most big winners tend to be.
“Wasn’t that a great movie?” Elisha asked when it was over. She grabbed the remote and turned off the movie.
“It was quite good, but I don’t know if I’d call it great,” I said, pulling her onto my lap.
“I don’t care what you think, that was a great movie,” she said, poking me in the chest.
“Maybe we can watch it again later and see if I change my mind,” I said, grabbing her hand so she couldn’t poke me any more.
“Why not watch it again now?” She asked, grinning.
“I was hoping we might be busy for a little while,” I said, resting my hand on her knee.
“How long is ‘a little while’?” She asked, wiggling her ass against me.
“Long enough that I won’t have to watch the movie again,” I said, drawing a playful shove from her.
“I guess we’ll be busy for a while then, won’t we?” She asked as I started to slide my hand up her thigh.
Slipping under the hem of her dress, my hand squeezed and stroked her smooth skin on it’s trek up her thigh. I leaned my head forward and kissed her neck just below her ear. When my hand reached her crotch, I was mildly surprised to not find any panties blocking her snatch from my hand.
“You little slut,” I whispered into her ear, dragging a finger along the length of her slit. “No panties? Didn’t your mom teach you to always wear underwear?”
“Yeah, but I knew they’d be coming off soon anyway,” she answered, her face flushing from a combination of my discovery and the excitement of my finger on her pussy.
“I guess that’s one less article of clothing I have to take off,” I whispered, blowing lightly into her ear.
“Uh huh,” she said, grinding her butt against my rapidly hardening cock.
Slipping my index finger into her, I kissed my way down her neck and to her shoulder. Working my way back, I kissed my way up her throat so I could kiss her mouth. Still working a finger in and out of her cunt, I let my thumb brush against her clit.
“Ungh,” Elisha groaned into my mouth, instinctively hunching her hips against my hand.
“Should we move this into the bedroom, or is my dirty couch good enough for you?” I asked, slipping my finger out of her.
Elisha groaned in frustration at my having stopped. Sliding off my lap, she sank to her knees between my legs and answered “Your couch isn’t very dirty tonight. You must have cleaned it.”
“You seemed disgusted when you found the half eaten piece of pizza between the cushions last week, so I figured I should at least make the effort to sanitize it,” I said, grinning.
“That was thoughtful of you,” she observed, unzipping my shorts. “You deserve a treat for that.”
“Considering the way you love to suck cock, you’d be getting as much of a treat as I would,” I grinned, looking down at her as she fished inside my shorts and grabbed hold of my cock.
“I don’t have to if you don’t want,” she offered, letting go of my cock.
“I want my treat dammit,” I said.
The moment the words were out of my mouth, she was pulling my cock out of my shorts. Her eyes glimmered with excitement as she started stroking her hand up and down the shaft. I noticed her other hand creep down her stomach and slip under her dress. The fabric of her dress was moving from the motion of her hand on her cunt.
Tilting her head to look up at me, she ran the tip of her tongue along the underside of my cock from my balls to the crown. Locking eyes with me, she kissed the head and let a little saliva slip from her lips to moisten my cock. Her hand worked the saliva into the shaft while she continued to jerk me off.
When she finally opened her mouth and took the head of my cock in, I moaned and narrowed my eyes to further enhance the sensations. I could feel her sucking on just the head while her tongue swirled around, caressing every inch. Resting my head against the back of the couch, I gave in to feeling and let her do her work.
While she worked her mouth further down my cock, her tongue became more demanding as it danced around against my shaft. When my cock bumped against the back of her throat, she applied as much suction as she could and started to work her way back to the head. Pulling her mouth off, she moved down and sucked one testicle into her mouth.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned, opening my eyes and looking down at her.
She winked at me and switched to my other testicle. Sucking it into her mouth like the other one, she stroked it with her tongue.
Her hair dragged along my thighs as she licked her way back up the underside of my dick. She stopped when she reached the head and curled her tongue around as much of the crown as she could.
“You ready?” She asked, satisfied that my cock was adequately lubricated.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“Good,” she said, standing up and turning around.
Spreading her legs, she put her hands on the coffee table and bent her knees so she could lower herself towards me. Putting a hand on the small of her back just above her waist, I helped steady while she brought her pussy down against my cock. Holding it straight up with my free hand, I guided her cunt down on my dick.
Feeling the head of my cock press against her opening, she wiggled her hips to tease me. When I lifted my hips to get it in her faster, she gave in and sank down onto me fully.
With her ass pressed against my pelvis, I let go of her back and grabbed the skirt of her dress and pulled it up. Letting go of the table, she lifted her arms up to allow me to pull her dress the rest of the way off. After a moment of savoring the initial penetration she slowly lifted herself up, clenching her pussy muscles around the shaft as she did so. When just the head was still seated in her snatch, she dropped herself back down as quickly as she could.
“That’s it, fuck my cock,” I told her.
“You like that?” She asked, getting into a nice rhythm.
The sight of her ass moving up and down while she rode my pole was amazing. When she closed her knees, her pussy tightened up to such an exquisite degree that I had to fight to keep from cumming on the spot.
Reaching around her, I put my hands on her stomach and pulled her back against me. Grabbing a tit in either hand, I kneaded them as she moved her hips in small circles in my lap. Tweaking her nipples between my thumb and forefingers, I leaned my head forward and kissed her neck.
Out of nowhere, she blindsided me by saying “I love you.”
Not knowing exactly what to say, I hesitated for a moment. When she stopped moving on top of me, I said it back to her “I love you too.”
“Ohh,” Elisha moaned, arching her back so she could fuck my cock.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” I whispered into her ear, each word accompanied by a rush of air blown into her ear.
“Yeah,” she mewled, her body quivering as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.
“Then cum all over my cock,” I told her, reaching one hand down to rub her clit.
The added stimulation sent over the edge as she bellowed “Fuuuuck.”
Her pussy gripped my cock in a deathlock while her body shook in ecstasy. It was too much for me as I pulled her down tightly to me and blew my load into her cunt. The orgasm was so intense that my bad leg jerked and accidentally kicked the bottom of the table.
“Ow fuck,” I screamed as pain shot through my ankle.
“Are you okay?” Elisha asked, sliding off to my side.
“Yeah, I just kicked the table with my broken ankle,” I said, willing myself to forget the pain.
“You never did tell me how you broke it,” Elisha said, nuzzling her head against my shoulder.
“Some guy beat the shit out of me,” I said, giving her the stock answer that I’d been giving everyone.
“Did he mug you?” Elisha asked. “Did you report it to the police?”
“No, he wasn’t mugging me. He was just kicking the shit out of me,” I said.
“Why?” Elisha asked, concern written all over her face.
“He didn’t like me. He was a friend of Jay-Z, and he caught me fucking Beyonce,” I answered, knowing what was coming.
“What?” Elisha asked, her concern turning to outrage. “You fucked Beyonce?”
“Yeah,” I admitted sheepishly.
“You really did think I was just some fucking chick that you could call over and service you whenever you wanted didn’t you?” She screamed, her face was red with anger as she got up off the couch.
“No I didn’t,” I pleaded as she picked up her dress. “If I had known you wanted anything-.”
“That’s fucking bullshit Richie,” she snorted, cutting me off as she pulled her on dress. “You said you loved me. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have fucked someone else even if you didn’t think I wanted to be your girlfriend.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she glared at me so I shut my mouth. When she headed for the door, I got up and tried to follow her but the cast hindered my movement. By the time I got to the door, she was already out of it and starting up her car.
I stood in the doorway for several minutes hoping against hope that she’d come back, but she didn’t. Giving up, I closed the door and limped over to the stereo. Grabbing a CD at random, I popped it in and wasn’t surprised when The Rolling Stones come on.
“She confessed her love to me, then she vanished on the breeze. Trying to hold onto that was just impossible. She was more than beautiful, closer to ethereal. With a kind of down to earth flavor,” Mick Jagger sang on ‘Anybody Seen My Baby’, and for the first time I really knew exactly what those lyrics meant.