Not to be read by anyone under 18, unless you’re a hot chick.
In which case my address is:
6669 NE 89th St.
Denver, CO (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,
death threats, nude photos, etc. can be sent to voodoojoe2000 at yahoo dot com.
For personal use only. Feel free to distribute to friends, enemies, lovers, friends you hope to one day be lovers, enemies that used to be friends but you wish they were lovers, whatever, just keep my name and e-mail address on the story or I shall hunt you down and make you write the whole damn thing out by hand.
Okay, so I said the series was done. Actually, I do believe I said #13 was it “for now,” but some people don’t read the fine print too well. I wouldn’t hold your breath expecting a new chapter every month, or even semi-monthly, from here, but I’m not going to say that this is it.
When I decided to do this thing, I checked the movie calendar and two names popped out at me, Anne Hathaway and Kirsten Dunst. I couldn’t decide between them, so I played Russian Roulette like in The Deer Hunter. Actually, I just had FD tell me which one to do. If you have any problems with being robbed of seeing Anne’s sweet melons bouncing around as Richie fucks her, take it up with him. Those of you happy that you get to see Kiki’s sweet melons bouncing around while Richie fucks her can thank me and forget all about FD’s role in the selection process.
The celebs of choice for this piece of fiction are Anna Paquin, Joss Stone, Kirsten Dunst. Codes are (MF, cons, oral, anal).
“Times have changed and times are strange
Here I come, but I ain’t the same
Mama, I’m coming home”
– Ozzy Osbourne ‘Mama, I’m Coming Home’
Adventures In Radio #14 – Reloaded
“You wanted to see me boss?” I asked the tall black man behind the desk. His name was Robert Johnson, or Bob as he liked his friends to call him. That’s what I normally called him, except when I felt like being a smart ass, like now.
“Quit calling me boss,” Bob said, shaking his head as I took a seat across from him. I’d started calling him ‘boss’ not long after starting at the station and it quickly became a little joke. I’d call him ‘boss’ and he’d tell me to stop calling him that.
“Sure thing Bob,” I said, grinning.
“I just thought I’d tell you that I’m being put in charge of the syndication division in Los Angeles,” Bob said.
“That’s great,” I said, reaching across the desk to shake his hand.
“Yeah it is, but I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you as well,” Bob said. He put on his best poker face, except this time it actually worked and I couldn’t tell what he was about to tell me.
“If you’re going to tell me I’m fired, please don’t try to follow it up by telling me the good news is that now I can spend more time sitting on my ass watching Gilmore Girls than I already do,” I joked, seriously hoping I was as far from the mark as I thought I was.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Bob said, laughing. “We’re very happy with the ratings. In fact, I want to take you with me.”
“You want to syndicate me, with what I’m guessing would be a big, fat raise? So what’s the bad news?” I asked, not quite sure what the downside might be.
“The division is trying to consolidate by moving as much of the talent to LA as possible. There are some who won’t go, and have high enough ratings that they won’t have to of course, but from here on out anyone who gets the chance will have to move to LA to do it,” Bob answered, hitting me in the face with the one thing that would make me turn the opportunity down.
“I see,” I said, realizing that if I took the job it would mean that I’d have to pack up and leave Anna behind. She had school here in New York at Columbia and there was no way I could ask her to leave it all behind for me.
“I know what it would mean for you and Anna, so I’ll give you some time to talk it over with her,” he offered. “I’d love to have you come with me, but I certainly wouldn’t fault you for staying put.”
“Thanks Bob,” I said, standing up from the chair.
“Don’t thank me. If it were up to me you would’ve been getting this chance six months ago,” Bob said, grinning as he shook my hand.
“So you’re saying the man has been holding me down?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Bob said, laughing at my joke.
+ * + * +
As I opened the door to the apartment, I saw Anna straightening up a few things. She had on a long Pink Floyd t-shirt that had once been mine but had been usurped shortly after I moved in. I tried to argue about it since it was one of my favorites, but I had to agree that she looked much better in it than I ever did and gave in. It was long enough that at first glance it almost looked like she wasn’t wearing any shorts underneath it, but as she stretched to dust the top shelf of her shelf of movies my favorite pair of boxers peered out from beneath it.
“Hey there, Kiwi,” I said, using my pet name for her as I wrapped my arms around her from behind. When we’d come back from New Zealand she’d made a crack about my having been so comfortable there. I in turn called her “my little Kiwi” and the name had stuck.
“Hey there, yourself,” Anna said, turning around in my grasp to face me.
“I got a job offer today,” I said, trying my best to smile.
“That’s great,” she said, hugging me tightly. As if reading the stiffness in my posture, she looked up at me. “What’s the bad news.”
“Who said there was bad news?” I asked, kissing her on the end of her nose.
“You did,” she replied. “You may not have come right out and said ‘baby, I’ve got bad news’ but it’s written all over you.”
“No one can read me like you,” I conceded. “They want to syndicate me, but I have to go back to LA if I take it.”
“Oh,” she said, instinctively reading the situation the same way I had. She pressed her cheek against my chest and clung to me.
“Bob gave me a couple days to think about it,” I told her, even though I was already leaning towards staying right where I was.
“Take it,” she said quietly.
“What?” I asked. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them.
“Take it,” she repeated, lifting her head to look at me. A tear rolled down her cheek as we locked eyes.
“No,” I said, shaking my head in defiance.
“You have to.” She said it in such a way that it broke my heart to hear it.
“I’m not going without you, and I can’t ask you to leave school for me,” I told her.
“It’s what you’ve wanted since you came to New York, you have to go for it,” she said. “Besides, I won’t be in school forever.”
“I know, and I can do it then when you can come with me,” I insisted.
“What if the chance never comes again? I don’t want to be responsible for something like that,” Anna said, standing on her tip toes to kiss me.
“You’ll come visit me won’t you?” I asked her. There was no point in fighting her, so I resigned myself to my fate.
“Only if you come visit me,” she returned.
“It’s a deal,” I said, lifting her up off the ground. Her legs scissored around my waist and her ankles pressed against the top of my ass as she rested her head on my shoulder.
“Take me to bed,” she said, and order with which I was only too happy to comply.
As I laid her down on the bed, I wiped the tears from her eyes. Laying on top of her, I kissed her as her hands went between us in search of my belt. Grabbing her hands and pinned them to the bed above her head and continued kissing her. I wanted to take it slow and drive her into a frenzy. Nothing did the trick for her more than being forced to lay there while I let the anticipation build up inside her. As my tongue slid into her mouth she eagerly accepted it and let her own tongue caress it.
“Please,” she panted when I broke the kiss.
She was almost there, but I wanted to turn up the heat another notch before I really started. I ran my tongue along the edge of her ear and felt her shudder beneath me. Suppressing a grin, I moved down to her jaw and planted little kisses along it until I reached her chin. Letting my tongue go back to work I lightly dragged it down her throat with little kisses mixed in.
By the time I reached her collarbone she was squirming and pressing herself against me. I’d pulled this act many times before and it never ceased to spur her on like nothing else. Her whole body seemed to react like it was on fire and just wanted the release that only the act of love could seem to quell.
I myself was feeling the extreme need as well, but I wasn’t quite ready to let her off the hook just yet. Clutching both of her hands with one of mine, I let my newly free hand stroke her face. When my thumb came near her mouth she leaned her head to the side to suck into her mouth, knowing that whenever she did that it inevitably made me forget about teasing her.
“You had to do that, didn’t you?” I whispered into her ear.
She grinned around my thumb and nodded as she continued sucking on it. Lightly sinking her teeth into the knuckle, she narrowed her eyes and rubbed her crotch against my raging hard on.
“It’s not going to work,” I told her through gritted teeth.
Despite what I’d just said, my objective was already starting to fade from mind. It was being replaced by the image of her naked body eagerly taking me inside and then pushing me on until she exploded in climax.
“Fuck,” I groaned, desperately trying to hold onto my last shred of willpower. When her tongue started to wrap itself around my thumb inside her mouth, it was gone.
With a sudden urgency to just get her naked, I let her hands go. When my hands grabbed the hem of her shirt, she squealed in delight at having won the battle and arched her back to allow me to take it off her.
Anna rarely wore a bra when she was just bumming around the house cleaning stuff, so I wasn’t exactly surprised to find those perfect white mounds of flesh naked before my eyes as I peeled the shirt off her. Tossing it onto the floor beside the bed, I grinned down at her as she cocked an eyebrow and then subtly nodded her head.
“I don’t have a clue what you want,” I told her even though I knew damn well what she wanted. She was silently urging to play with her nipples, but I much preferred to hear her express that desire vocally.
“My nipples,” she clarified. “Suck on them, please.”
Tilting my head to the side, I held off for a couple seconds just to make her squirm again. When her hands made their move to grab the back of my head and pull it to her chest whether I wanted it or not, I stuck out my tongue to tease her and complied.
“Ooh,” Anna cooed as I flicked my tongue across the nipple in my mouth.
Her hands grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled on it until it started to gather around shoulders. I broke off the contact with her breast just long enough to peel it off over my head and then immediately went back to suckling. After what I thought was a sufficient amount of time sucking on her nipple, I switched over to the other while I let my hand trail down her stomach.
“Fuck me,” Anna hissed in my ear as my hand slipped under the waistband of the boxers she was wearing.
“I will,” I promised her, letting my fingers stroke her pussy.
“Now,” she said impatiently, pressing her cunt against my probing fingers and clutching my head to her chest.
“In a minute,” I said, using the break between each word to flick her sensitive nipple with my tongue.
“Please,” she begged, starting to shudder under me and I knew her orgasm was coming fast.
“Cum for me, then I will,” I told her, dipping two fingers into her snatch.
“Please,” she repeated, biting her lower lip.
After almost a year of making love to her, I knew the signs and I could tell that her climax was just about there. I wanted to enjoy it and savor every moment since I really didn’t know how many more times I’d get to do this to her, but the throbbing in my pants made me glad that I wouldn’t have to wait too much longer.
“Ohhh,” she moaned, her legs clamping together around my hand as her whole body seized up in ecstasy.
The sight of her cumming all over my fingers grabbed at my heart. She was just so beautiful, and seeing her pleasure written so obviously on her face took her to another level. There was just no way I was going to be able to give up being able to look at her every morning.
“Now,” she said, sliding her boxers off to entice me into giving her what she wanted.
“Now,” I agreed, fumbling with my belt.
By the time I got pants off, Anna had her legs spread with her knees bent. Her hand traced circles around her belly button as she stared at me with those big brown eyes filled with anticipation.
Grabbing her legs, I lifted them up and moved in to position myself at her entrance. Before entering her, I leaned down and planted a kiss on her pouty lips. When she grabbed the back of my head to return the kiss I pushed my way into her and she moaned into my mouth.
Setting an agonizingly slow pace I ignored her little moans of protest. I was bound and determined to take as much as I could possibly stand before giving into my lust. My dick wanted me to sprint, but my head wanted a marathon. In battles like this, my dick almost always wins, but my hope was to prolong the battle long enough to have her screaming for me to quit teasing her.
“Fuck me harder,” Anna whispered into my ear, hooking her legs around my waist. When I didn’t respond the way she wanted, she used her legs to try and pull me into her harder in hopes that would spur me on.
“I don’t think so,” I said, pulling out of her. Grinning at her groans of frustration, I straddled on of her legs and put the other one against my chest as I realigned myself with her pussy.
She scrunched up her face at me in a scowl because she couldn’t use her legs in this position, but the scowl didn’t last long when I penetrated her to the hilt. I immediately pulled back out and gave her a couple quick, short strokes before settling into another nice, easy rhythm.
“Harder,” she whimpered, her fingers clawing my back.
Finally unable to take any more of the slow stuff, I let her leg drop. It dropped as far as my waist where Anna wrapped it around and used her heel to pull me into her.
“So close,” Anna moaned, wrapping her arms around my neck to pull me down so she could kiss me.
Her breasts flattened out against my chest and her nipples rubbed against me as me tongue snaked it’s way into her mouth. The gentleness of mere seconds before was gone as we both worked our way toward our respective orgasms. Anna was first, her cunt clamping down on my cock and pushing me over the edge into my own.
“I love you,” she whispered as I pulled out of her.
“Love you too, Kiwi,” I told her.
“I’m hungry,” she said, snuggling up against me.
“Want me to get you something? I think there might still be some fruit left,” I offered.
“No, there wasn’t much left and I ate it for breakfast,” she said.
“I could order a pizza,” I said. “Vegetarian of course, unless you want to join the dark side and have some pepperoni.”
“That sounds good. The vegetarian, not the evil pepperoni,” she said. I started to get up to go order the pizza but she grabbed me and pulled me back down to the bed “It can wait a little bit.”
+ * + * +
A couple weeks later I was packed and almost ready to leave for the airport to catch my flight to LA. I say I was almost ready, because I was never going to be fully ready to leave Anna behind. I knew it had to happen, but that didn’t mean it was any easier.
“Mr. Tozier, your cab’s here,” Brian, the doorman, said through the intercom on the wall.
“Tell him to hold on a minute, Brian. If he has to start the meter, then so be it but I won’t be there for a few minutes,” I told him. My bags were packed and sitting by the door ready to go but I wasn’t going to leave before Anna got home so I could say goodbye to her in person.
“He said he’s starting the meter, Mr. Tozier,” Brian said, reporting back.
“How many times have I told you to call me Richie?” I asked Brian, even though it really wouldn’t matter any more.
“Sorry Richie, force of habit,” Brian apologized. “Oh, and Ms. Paquin is on her way up.”
“Thanks Brian,” I said.
A minute later Anna came hurrying through the door, probably expecting to find me already gone. When she saw me standing there she heaved a sigh of relief and rushed into my arms.
“I was hoping the taxi out there was for you,” Anna said, giving me a hug.
“You know I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” I told her.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t still worried you already left,” Anna said, pulling back to look at me.
“I’ve still got a few days until I have to be there. I can stay if you want,” I offered. My new show didn’t start until Monday but we’d both agreed that it’d probably be best if I left a few days early to get myself settled back in LA and see the family.
“No, your mom is expecting you,” she said, even though her eyes said she wanted me to stay just as much as I wanted to stay.
“She’ll understand,” I shrugged.
“Just remember what the Rolling Stones said,” Anna said.
One of the things I love about Anna is that we always seem to be on the same wavelength, and despite all the Stones songs I knew exactly which one she was talking about. “I know, I know. You can’t always get what you want, but neither of us are getting what we want.”
“Take the chorus another step,” she said. “You can’t always get what you want / But if you try sometime, yeah, / You just might find you get what you need!”
What can I say, I knew I was beat. How do you argue with the Mick and Keith and company? Answer: you can’t.
“Call me when you get there so I don’t spend my time watching CNN looking for news of a plane crash, okay,” she said, more of a command than a question.
“I will,” I promised, picking up my suitcases. “If you feel the need to get away from it all, LA is nice.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, giving me anther hug.
“If you keep hugging me, I’ll never get out of here,” I told her.
“Yeah, no more or I won’t be able to let you go,” she agreed.
After exchanging our goodbyes I finally left and took the elevator down to the lobby. Brian held the door open for me and even offered to carry one of my suitcases to the waiting taxi.
+ * + * +
“United flight 316 to Atlanta now boarding,” I heard come over the loudspeaker as I stepped through the doors and into the air conditioned airport.
Checking in at the ticket counter I was informed that the flight was thirty minutes late. Shrugging, I checked my luggage except for my carry on with my cd player and a selection of music in it before heading for my gate.
After getting through security, where I had to empty my pockets and turn on anything electronic no matter how unlike a bomb it looked, I finally made it to the gate. Plopping myself into a chair I pulled out my cd player and flipped through the music I had on me. I couldn’t decide between trying to drown out everything with the loudest, angriest, most violent music I could find and putting on some blues to do some proper brooding. In the end I decided a crowded airport wasn’t the place to mope, so I popped in Master Of Puppets and went for the security blanket of the extreme adrenaline rush Metallica always provides.
I was busy providing air guitar to the opening of Welcome Home (Sanitarium) when someone plopped down next to me. Without even bothering to look over, I tried to put on my best ‘not interested in talking’ face and went back to the tale of a man locked away against his will on the pretense of insanity that was pouring into my ears. It obviously didn’t work because I kept hearing a female voice with a British accent trying to penetrate the haze of Metallica surrounding my brain no matter how much I tried to turn up the volume to block out the offending voice.
“Excuse me, what?” I asked, trying to be polite despite the fact that I been trying to sit there nicely without disturbing anyone, quite unlike the person sitting next to me.
“Nothing, I was just saying how I hate flying,” she said, trying to pass it off as if she’d just been talking to herself despite the fact she’d had to have been talking pretty damn loud to get past Metallica playing at full blast. No one talks that loud unless they’re trying to be heard by someone other than themselves. Since there were only a handful of people around and I was the only one close that would’ve required shouting to hear, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I was the one she was trying to disturb.
“Music helps me,” I said, holding up my cd player and then making a show of turning the volume back up in hopes that it would get her to leave me alone.
“I don’t have any batteries,” she said, pulling the headphones away from the ear facing her.
“Go buy some,” I suggested, starting to get highly irritated by the fact that she just wasn’t taking the hint. “A magazine or a book might work too.”
“A magazine might work,” she said. “I think I’ll go see if I find something to read. Want anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, just wanting her to go away. She was hot in her green tank top and short denim skirt, but I wasn’t in the mood to flirt and trying to get between me and Metallica is a capital offense in my book.
I have no idea how long she was gone, since I had the cd was on random play, but I was in the middle of Battery when she fell back into the chair beside me. She had a couple small plastic bags with her, one of which had the outline of a magazine visible inside it.
“I thought about buying a paper, but they only the New York Post left and I don’t like it much,” she confessed, earning some grudging respect from me for that stance even though she once again was holding my headphones away from ear so she could talk to me.
“Think you’ve got enough to keep your mind busy during the flight?” I asked her, hoping she’d say no and go away again.
“I don’t mind the flying part, it’s just the leaving the ground part that makes me nervous,” she said. “I’m Joscelyn by the way.”
“I know who you are,” I said. So what if she was better known as Joss Stone, it wasn’t like a newcomer like her would get much of a reaction from someone like me who’s met musicians like Liz Phair and Michelle Branch, both of whom I considered to be more talented and neither of whom have as yet mangled a White Stripes tune. Hell, I even met half the Stripes last Halloween and had the honor of meeting the other half not too long ago.
“You do huh?” she asked me, her curiosity seeming to be up because I didn’t care if she was the least bit famous.
“It’s kind of my job to know who you are,” I told her, but not elaborating on exactly what my job was.
“What are you, a journalist?” Joss asked me.
“Something like that,” I replied, not bothering to acknowledge that I was only technically one in the absolute loosest sense of the word.
“What paper do you work for? It isn’t the New York Post is it?” she pressed.
“I don’t work for the Post,” I assured her, still not answering her main question.
“Good,” she said, seemingly satisfied that I wasn’t some right wing whacko under Rupert Murdoch’s control.
She let go of my headphones and fell silent for a few minutes. Just long enough for me to hold out hope she’d lost interest and I could get back to wrapping myself in Metallica. It wasn’t meant to be, however, because just when I was starting to relax she grabbed my headphones again.
“I’m getting nervous just thinking about taking off,” she said.
“Sex always calms me down,” I said, expecting her to slap me and then leave me alone thinking I’m just a big lecher out to score with seventeen year old pop stars.
“It’s worth a try,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Come on.”
“What the…?” I started to ask before I was yanked out of my seat. My cd player had been sitting with my bag on the chair next to the one I had been sitting on but it yanked the headphones off my head and clattered to the ground behind me. I opened my mouth to yell at her that she probably just broke the one thing that was going to keep my mind off Anna on the flight to LA, but thought better of it since it might make her not want to fuck me. No sense in losing my cd player without getting some kind of reward for it in return, I figured.
“Over here looks good,” she said, dragging me around a corner and away from the hustle and bustle of the main artery of the airport.
Before I could voice any complaints, I was pressed against the wall. I looked down to see her hitching up her skirt before hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and drawing them down her legs.
“People,” I said as she finished taking her panties off.
“Where?” she asked, holding her panties in her hand as she spun us around so my back was to whoever might stumble upon us. “I don’t see anyone.”
“They could come by any minute,” I said, suddenly wondering why I was seemingly trying to talk her out of what she so obviously wanted. The answer, of course, was Anna and how it almost seemed like cheating on her to be fucking someone mere hours after the official break up, but those thoughts vanished when Joss reached into my shorts to grab a hold of my cock.
“I’ll be quiet so they won’t hear,” she whispered as she lifted herself up and locked her legs around my waist while lining my cock up with her pussy.
“Sweet fucking Jesus,” I hissed as I felt my cock slide into her velvety cunt. Sure it was a highly blasphemous thing to say, but it was the only thing my mind could think of at the moment. The way Joss handled herself I could tell she wasn’t even close to being a virgin, but she was still only seventeen and her cunt had that smooth tightness that seems to gradually soften once a woman gets out of her teens.
“Fuck me,” Joss demanded into my ear.
Gritting my teeth against the fire enclosing my cock, I pressed her against the wall of the alcove we’d taken cover in and pulled out of her. My inward thrust drew a moan from her, which she sought to cover up by biting into my shoulder. Grunting in pain at the teeth sinking into my flesh, I channeled the energy into fucking her even harder.
My hands grabbed her thighs as I pounded into her. There wasn’t a whole lot of tenderness to it, just good old fashioned fucking. Even if I wanted to take it slow, Joss probably wouldn’t have let me with the way she was pressing her shoulders against the wall to shove her cunt onto my cock with every plunge I made into her.
“Yeah,” Joss gasped as my hands drifted up her legs to grab her ass.
Unsure of how much longer I could go on at the pace we were on, I grabbed one of her hands and put it between us. When she got the hint and started to frig her clit with it I let my hand wander back to her ass.
“Oh fuck,” Joss moaned, biting down on my shoulder again, even harder this time.
Oddly enough, the pain from her chewing on my collarbone mixed well with the intensity of the pleasure coming from my cock. It spurred me on and I hoped that her moan and the renewed vigor in her biting meant she was close to cumming. As great as it felt to be inside her, I was starting to get tired from holding her up and doing the thrusting.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured so softly that I almost didn’t hear her over the noise on the other side of the wall.
“If you don’t cum soon, I won’t be able to help you,” I warned her, feeling myself approach the point of no return.
“Cum in me,” she said. Just as she said it, she sank her teeth back into my shoulder and let out a strangled cry that thankfully was muffled by my flesh in her mouth.
Taking her at her word, I let myself go and a couple quick strokes later I buried myself into her to the hilt. Biting my lip to keep myself from screaming I unloaded into her cunt. My hips jerked as my balls emptied.
“You’re right, I do feel calmer,” Joss said, unlocking her legs from my waist and letting herself drop to the floor.
“Glad I could be of service,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“You know, you never did tell me what paper you work for,” Joss said, pulling her panties back on.
“I never even said I worked for a paper,” I said, zipping up my fly. Glancing down, I uttered a couple choice words when I realized the front of my pants was covered in out combined juices.
“Then do you work on the telly?” she persisted.
“I’m in radio,” I finally told her figuring she wasn’t going to give up and that I owed her at least a kernel of knowledge after the spirited fucking she’d just given me.
“I’m supposed to do an interview on a radio show next week,” Joss said, probably thinking that meant we had something in common. “His name’s Richie something-or-other. Last name starts with a ‘T’ I think. He’s supposed to be a real cad that can’t keep his hands to himself, so I guess I’ll find out for myself.
I almost choked on my laughter at that. It was news to me that she was going to be on my show, but then it made sense that they’d have a booker working ahead of time to get guests scheduled rather than wait until the day before I had to hit the air to start lining them up.
I momentarily thought about trying to salvage my image, but decided any progress I made in getting her to think that “Richie something-or-other” wasn’t a womanizer would be wasted the moment she walked into the studio and found out who I really was. Then of course she’d connect the dots and probably think I was even worse than I really am even though she’d been the one who’d insisted on taking a ride on my joystick. So, I instead chose to leave it as one big surprise for her to walk in and see me sitting there all smug.
“The plane should be just about ready to board,” I said, glancing at my watch.
Without even bothering to see if she was following, I took off and jogged back to the gate. Picking up my cd player off the ground I was relieved to find out that it wasn’t broken and also hadn’t been stolen. Collecting my bag off it’s chair I tossed it over my shoulder and handed my ticket to the attendant.
“You don’t give a girl a chance do you?” Joss asked, sitting down in the seat next to me on the plane.
Shit, I thought to myself, I’m never going to lose her.
“I didn’t want to miss the flight,” I told her, putting my headphones on.
“You haven’t even told me your name,” she said, staring at me.
“That’s what makes me the mysterious stranger,” I said, ignoring her stares as I changed discs.
“Are you going to tell me or not?” she asked.
“Shh, they’re doing the safety demonstration,” I told her. I didn’t really care about the demonstration, but I hoped it made her even madder.
“Fine,” she huffed, pulling a copy of People magazine out of one of the plastic bags she’d brought back her little shopping excursion.
A few minutes later after we’d taken off I noticed she still hadn’t said anything. Glancing over at her she had her nose buried in her magazine but otherwise showing no effects whatsoever from the take off.
“We’re off the ground,” I said, poking her with my elbow.
“I don’t care,” she said, ignoring me. “Tell me your name or go to hell.”
“Feisty, aren’t you?” I chuckled. “You were too mad to even get nervous about leaving the ground. Unless you were lying about not liking to fly, that is.”
“Huh?” she asked, leaning over me to look out the window. It didn’t escape my notice that her breasts pressed against my arm, most likely on purpose, as she did it. “I didn’t even feel us move.”
“Told you that you just needed to get fucked. The part about making you mad at me was a bit of an improvisation, but it seemed to work too,” I whispered to her, causing her to blush slightly.
“Well it worked,” she said, suddenly remembering why she was mad at me.
Shrugging, I turned my cd player on and let Black Francis tell how he wants to grow up to be a debaser. Every so often during the flight Joss pulled my headphones away to plead with me to tell her my name. Each time I just grinned and sent her even further into a tizzy over why I wouldn’t tell her.
+ * + * +
“Want to share a taxi with me?” Joss asked me as we stepped off the plane.
“If my mom’s not waiting to pick me then sure,” I said.
“Your mom’s picking you up? The rumors about radio not paying well must be true,” she said, obviously meant to tick me off.
“It doesn’t,” I said, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to check my messages. Good thing I’d gotten one of those national packages without roaming charges or I’d be paying out my ass for calls made until I switched back to an LA number.
“I’m going to the bathroom while you wait for your mom,” Joss said, adding a sneer at the end to once more try and needle me. Once more, it went to no avail.
By the time I got done checking my messages I learned that word had gotten out about my return. Matt had called to invite me down to the studio tomorrow to watch him interview Kirsten Dunst and Elisha wanted to welcome me home with “dinner or drinks or something” as she put it. Somewhere in the back of my head I figured those two calls were related, or at least the latter had learned from the former that I was coming back. The final call was from my mom letting me know that she couldn’t get away from work so I’d have to find some other way home but my car was sitting in my driveway if I needed it.
“Guess I should call Anna,” I said to myself, looking down and finding my fingers already halfway through dialing her number.
“Hello?” Anna asked when she answered.
“Hey there Kiwi,” I said, immediately grimacing because I’d called her by my pet name.
“Are you there?” she asked.
“Just landed. Mom couldn’t get away from work so I’m about to go find a cab,” I explained.
“You’ll see her later,” she assured me, even though I already knew if I hadn’t seen my mom some time today then it was only because she’d suddenly died or something.
“Yeah, living on the other side of the country from her baby should have her breaking down doors just to hug me by now,” I said, laughing.
“I’ll let you get your cab,” Anna said.
“Okay, talk to you later,” I said.
“Call me this weekend if you want,” Anna suggested.
“Will do,” I said before hanging up.
“Ready to go?” Joss asked me as I was pocketing my phone.
“Lets go,” I said, nodding my head. “My car’s at my house, so I can give you a ride to your hotel if you want.”
+ * + * +
“Wow, you really must not make much money if you don’t have a tv,” Joss said, looking around my barren house.
“I’ve been living in New York for almost a year and I told my sisters to go ahead and take whatever they needed. The one caveat I gave was they don’t touch my music or they die,” I explained, rolling my eyes.
As expected just about everything was gone. I might’ve thought a burglar had gotten it but the music I’d left behind was still sitting there in their cd towers just the way I left them. There’s just no way someone could break into my house and not be tempted into stealing my shameful copy of Macarena.
“There doesn’t seem to be a year’s worth of dust,” Joss said, raising an eyebrow at me as she ran her finger along the top of the entertainment center.
“My mom must have dusted for me,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change before I take you to your hotel.”
I grabbed my suitcases and headed into my room. I didn’t have all my clothes or belongings, but that was mainly because I couldn’t fit them all so Anna had agreed to ship me the rest. Even with most of my stuff gone I still had enough clothes to get me through a couple days and my washer and drier hadn’t been liberated by one of my sisters, so I had more than enough to survive until my stuff arrived.
“You going to tell me your name yet?” Joss asked, peeking her head through the door as I stood there in just my boxers.
“I don’t know, what are you going to do to get that bit of information?” I shot back.
“I didn’t earn it back in New York?” she returned.
“No, that was to help you calm down, remember?” I pointed out, grinning. “Now you’ve gotta work on learning my name.”
“Lets go then,” she said, pulling off her tank top.
“You don’t hesitate in getting what you want, do you?” I asked her, my eyes too glued to her tits encased in a little green bra to look her in the eye.
“No I don’t,” she said, her turn to grin as she worked on taking off her skirt.
“Then who am I to complain?” I asked no one in particular as I watched her get naked in front of me.
I’d already experienced what it felt like to be inside her, but it still didn’t diminish the awe I felt seeing that tight little body of hers come fully into view. Her breasts were perky and there was little, if any, sag to them once the bra came off. She had a nice dusting of light brown hair topping her pussy that just screamed to be fucked, again.
She struck a pose when she was done undressing and then giggled at the way my boxers tented in front. When I shrugged she quickly knelt in front of me and pulled my boxers down. Looking up at me with a smile on her face, she grabbed my cock and stroked it.
I snarled slightly as she teasingly ran her tongue along the underside of my shaft. When her lips parted and enveloped the head of my dick, I laced my fingers in her hair and pulled her mouth even further onto me.
After taking as much of my cock into her mouth as she could, she increased her suction as she pulled off. Her tongue ran along the crown when just the head was left in her mouth. Pushing her mouth back down, her tongue massaged the shaft all the way until it bumped against the back of her throat.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I told her when she looked up at me with an irresistible mix of innocence that was at complete odds with the way she was handling my cock. It was the kind of look that told me to fuck her while also projecting naiveté in an utter contradiction.
“How do you want me to look at you?” Joss asked, jerking my cock with her hand while her mouth was busy speaking. God, she was going to be the death of me, but in my heart I knew it was going be a ball seeing if I was right.
“Just get on the bed,” I told her.
When she laid down on her back on the bed, I grabbed her ankles and pulled her toward me until her ass was at the edge. Spreading her legs, I let my fingers trace through the patch of light brown hair at the top of her pussy before moving down to very lightly run over her pussy lips.
“Uhh,” Joss grunted, pushing her hips up trying to get more of her cunt in contact with my fingers.
“You want my fingers inside you, don’t you?” I asked her, spreading the lips of her pussy.
“Please,” she groaned.
“Like this?” I asked her, extending my finger into her.
“More,” she begged, biting her lip as she lifted her head to look at me.
“More, as more fingers? Or more, as in put the rest of this one finger in you pussy?” I asked, even though I had a pretty good idea what her answer would be.
“Both,” she moaned as I started to push my index finger inside her right next to my middle finger.
“Or would you rather a nice hard cock in there instead?” I asked her, fucking her with the two fingers.
“Cock,” she gasped, meeting each thrust my fingers made into her with her hips.
When my fingers slipped out of her she made a small grunt of complaint but she silenced it when she felt my cock press against her pussy. As I eased inside her, I was once more struck by just how tight she was but it didn’t stop me from teasing her. I put just the head in her pussy before pulling it back out.
“Don’t tease me,” she begged me, her face crinkled up in frustration.
“I’ll tease you if I want to,” I informed her, running the head of my cock along her folds before pushing back inside.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, trying to hook her legs around my waist.
I caught her legs before she could get what she wanted and held them to my chest as I slowly fed my cock to her pussy. About halfway I stopped and started to give her small strokes until she begged me to give her everything. Grinning with my tongue caught between my teeth, I complied and slammed the rest into her in one smooth motion.
“Fuck,” Joss gasped, her hands grabbing onto her tits to play with her nipples.
Putting my hands on the backs of her knees, I set a nice slow pace. Every few strokes I’d pull out completely just long enough for her to give me an imploring look before plunging back in.
“Harder,” she moaned, her hips meeting every one of my thrusts, eyes laced with intensity and concentration.
Wanting to tease her just a little bit more, I did the opposite of what she wanted. I slowed down until I was barely inching my way in and out of her. After a couple strokes like that I finally gave in and started fucking her for everything she was worth.
“Yeah,” she screamed, her eyes rolling back in her head as her pussy found itself being pummeled to her delight.
“You like my cock in your tight little pussy?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she moaned, nodding her head.
“Then roll over,” I told her, pulling out of her.
She looked a little agitated at the maneuver, but quickly rolled over onto her hands and knees nonetheless. Dropping to her elbows, she hitched her ass in the air and spread her legs for me.
Seeing that firm ass and her positioning, I got me an idea. Running my fingers over her pussy, I collected some of the juices clinging to her slit and moved them back to her asshole. As my finger pushed against her anus her head dropped and what sounded like a cat’s whine came out of her throat.
“Tell me your name first,” she whispered as I aimed my cock at her rosebud.
“It’s Ed, short for Edward,” I told her, giving her my middle name instead of my first name like she wanted.
“Ohh fuck,” she groaned as I pressed my cock into her ass.
When my cock was firmly seated in her butt I grabbed onto her hips and started pushing until the cheeks of her ass were pressed against me. The fact that she’d relaxed so quickly and hadn’t cried out in complaint told me she was either a very fast learner, or she’d been fucked in the ass before. Either way I wasn’t going to complain because it meant I didn’t have to be so careful to not hurt her.
“Someone likes it up the ass, don’t they?” I asked her as started pulling out.
“Yeah, fuck my ass,” she grunted, reaching one hand underneath her to stroke her pussy.
“Like this?” I asked her, slowly fucking her ass.
“Harder,” she moaned, her fingers occasionally slipping inside her cunt to rub my cock through the walls of her snatch.
“Harder, huh?” I asked, driving my cock into her ass with enough force that her butt cheeks rippled and undulated.
“Uhh, yeah,” she moaned, her forehead resting on the bed as both her holes were filled.
Since she was concentrating on her pussy, it allowed me to focus on her ass. She didn’t seem to want me to take it slow, and her moans sure seemed to indicate she’d cum soon whether I took my time or not, so I decided not to.
“Oh, so close,” Joss moaned, pushing back to meet my insistent thrusts.
“Such a bad girl, wanting to cum with my cock in your ass,” I teased her, not bothering to slow down since my own orgasm was closing in.
“Bad girl,” she agreed, nodding her head slightly as another moan was torn from her throat.
“I want you to cum. Do it, just fucking cum with my cock in your ass,” I told her.
“Cumming,” she screamed, her anus clamping down hard on my cock.
Giving her a couple quick strokes, I too felt my orgasm hit me. With one last furious lunge into her ass I grunted and my balls unleashed their load into her butt.
“You know, you don’t look like an Edward,” she said after I’d pulled out and we were curled up in my bed.
“You’ll have to talk to my parents about that one,” I said, not bothering to tell her that I wasn’t really an Edward.
+ * + * +
We must have dozed off because my eyes opened to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Glancing around, I wasn’t surprised to see that there wasn’t a clock anywhere in sight. Instead, I picked up my watch off the table next to the bed and looked at it. After deducting three hours for the time difference to get six o’clock in the afternoon I figured that the only knocking on my door would be my mom wanting to welcome me home.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I yelled, scrounging through my bag looking for something to put on. After all, I sure wasn’t going to answer the door naked if I thought my mom would be on the other side.
Figuring it would be pretty obvious that I’d been sleeping, I grabbed a green pair of sleep pants with white pictures of Hawaiian tiki statues on them that my sister had sent me for my birthday. The enclosed card had informed me that my niece had picked them out just for me so I kept them around even though I’ve always been more comfortable in a pair of boxers when I slept.
“My baby’s home,” my mom said, throwing her arms around me when I pulled the door open.
“Nice to see you too mom,” I said, returning the hug.
“You’ll come to dinner won’t you?” she asked me.
“I’m a little tired from the flight to do it tonight, and Matt invited me down to the station tomorrow so I’ll probably end up hanging out with him tomorrow night. I’ll be there on Sunday though if I don’t make it before then,” I promised her.
“Okay,” she said, a little disappointed at my answer. “Sorry about Anna, I really liked her.”
“Me too mom, but it was something that had to happen,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Try to come over and see everyone before Sunday, but I understand that you want to get settled in,” she said, making me grit my teeth at the tone of her voice and the guilt that it was laying at my feet.
“I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything,” I told her. I was already planning on going over there on Saturday, but plans change and didn’t want to have call and tell her I found something more important. God knows that my life would be damn near unlivable for months if I did that.
“Okay Richie, just remember that everyone misses you,” she said, once more dropping a load of guilt on shoulders.
“I miss them too,” I told her, shutting the door when she’d turned the corner into the driveway.
“Why’d she call you Richie?” Joss asked me from the doorway to the bedroom.
“Richard Edward Tozier, at your service,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “You might know me better as ‘Richie something-or-other’ as you called me at the airport this morning.”
“You’re the one I’m supposed to be talk to next week?” she asked.
“I guess so, unless another Richie with a slightly weird last name came to town since I left,” I answered her. “I understand if you want to get dressed and leave.”
“I’m hungry, you’re buying me dinner,” she informed, turning on her heels to go get dressed.
I was left standing there wondering just what the hell was up with her. Every time I thought her figured out, she did the complete opposite. I’d just lied to her and basically admitted to using her and rather get mad and throw something she was making me take her out to dinner.
+ * + * +
“What is it with people waking me up?” I grumbled to myself as I reached for the ringing phone.
I’d taken Joss out to dinner like she wanted, but the moment we got to her hotel, she kissed me on the cheek and then jumped out of the car to leave me alone. I’d already fucked her twice, on two different coasts, and experienced all the holes she had to offer, yet she’d once again left me wondering about her. Instead of getting another crack at her, I got to go home alone to change the sheets and make the bed.
“Hello?” I asked, holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” Matt said on the other end. “You get my message inviting you to come down to the studio today?”
“Yeah, what time is it?” I asked, remembering that my alarm clock had been pilfered and not wanting to make the effort to remember what I’d done with my watch when I got home.
“I go on the air in a few minutes,” Matt answered. “I take it you just woke up?”
“Yeah, my show will be taping in at six in the morning so I’m sleeping in while I can,” I said, drawing a laugh from Matt. “I’m getting up now, so I’ll be there shortly.”
“Alright man, just make sure you don’t miss Kirsten,” Matt said.
“I’m not going to miss my second favorite comic book babe without some debilitating injury happening to keep me away,” I said.
“I thought Kirsten was first,” Matt said.
“Dude, I just spent ten months in New York with Anna Paquin. I think that elevates her above Kiki,” I snorted.
“How is Anna by the way?” Matt asked.
“She was fine when I talked to her when I got here yesterday. She’s a fighter, and got a Circuit City in her apartment to help her kill time if she needs it,” I replied.
“I gotta go, Kenny’s starting to panic because I’m not in the booth yet,” Matt said.
“Okay, see you in a bit,” I said, hanging up the phone so I could get ready.
I threw on a pair of black denim shorts, a black t-shirt that simply said “Springer guest #200” in white across the front, and a pair of sandals before heading out the door. Sticking my keys in the ignition of my car, I was assaulted by a horrible Chingy song playing at high volume.
“I see Mark was driving my car,” I said, laughing as I turned the volume down and flipped over to listen to Matt.
“This is Anna Paquin, and you’re listening to Matt Miller on KPLA,” came the very familiar voice from the radio.
It was a promo that Anna had cut when we’d come down for my mom’s birthday in February and hearing her voice was like a dagger to the heart. With a pang of regret, I flipped over to a classic rock station and soon was grooving to the sounds of Cream’s Sunshine Of Your Love.
+ * + * +
“And I still haven’t found I’m looking for,” I sang to myself as I walked into the studio during a commercial break. U2 had been playing when I’d turned off the engine so it was stuck in my head.
“You’re slipping man,” Matt told me.
“Why’s that?” I asked, slipping into an empty chair and grabbing the headphones hanging from the microphone.
“You’re singing a song I actually know, that’s why,” he responded, laughing.
“Sorry, maybe I should’ve come in rocking Move It On Over,” I said.
“No, I think you already tried that one. Thorogood, right?”
“It was written by Hank Williams, but I know the Thorogood version,” I answered. The kid was coming along nicely after all.
“Thought so,” Matt said, pretty pleased with himself that he’d remembered.
“Okay, how ’bout ‘baby please don’t go, baby please don’t go, baby please don’t go down to New Orleans.’ Is that better?”
“Isn’t that the new Aerosmith song?”
“Yeah it is, but when I sound like I swallowed a canister of helium while I’m singing it, it means I’m singing it the Budgie way,” I returned.
“Oh, then carry on,” he said.
“How’d you manage to steal Sarah away from Craig?” I asked, waving at the cute blonde at the board on the other side of the glass.
“He’s nicer than Craig,” came Sarah’s response in my headphones. “Fifteen seconds guys.”
“If all it took was being nice, I would’ve had her replace you while I was still here,” I joked to Matt, enjoying the way Sarah blushed when she heard my comment.
“We’re back, and the prodigal son has returned. Joining us is the much missed Richie Tozier,” Matt said when the final commercial had ended.
“Where’s Kiki? I was promised an audience with Mary Jane,” I said.
“She’s in with Kenny,” Sarah’s voice chirped in my ear.
“Then tell her to hurry up because I’m not talking until she gets in here,” I said.
“You won’t talk huh?” Matt asked me. When I nodded and crossed my arms across me chest, he took it as a challenge. “In that case, AC/DC sucks and Stevie Ray Vaughn is a hack.”
“That’s dirty pool,” I said, not willing to let gross misstatements like that go unchallenged.
“I know, but it got you to talk didn’t it?”
“You at least owe me a beer for that, and don’t complain about being broke either,” I told him.
“Here’s Kirsten, are you happy now?” Matt asked me as Kirsten came walking into the studio. She was wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt, a pair of flip flop sandals, and looked completely stunning.
“I’m always happier when I’ve got beautiful women to look at,” I answered.
“Matt’s right about AC/DC you know,” Kirsten said, tucking her hair behind her ears before slipping on her headphones.
“What did I ever do to deserve this kind of treatment?” I lamented.
“Aww, you know you’re my favorite DJ,” Kiki told me, her cheeks dimpling as a smile creased her face.
“Yeah, probably right up there with Howard Stern on your list,” I sneered.
“No, you’re at least a notch or two above Howard,” Kirsten replied.
“If you really thought so you wouldn’t make those kinds of comments about AC/DC,” I told her.
“Now that we’ve cleared up where Richie stands on your list, tell us about the movie,” Matt told Kirsten.
“Well, it’s called Wimbledon and I play the bad girl of tennis in it,” Kirsten said.
“So you’re kind of like Jennifer Capriati in it?” Matt asked her.
“You could say that,” Kiki replied. “Basically it’s about a British tennis player, played by Paul Bettany, who’s about to retire, but he takes one last shot at winning Wimbledon while also trying to win my character’s heart.”
“What I want to know is, how does Paul Bettany get lucky enough to spend his days pretending to make out with you and then go home and make out with Jennifer Connelly for real,” I pondered.
“Yeah, he’s not even all that good looking,” Matt put in.
“You’ve been checking him out or something?” I asked Matt.
“What I meant was that he gets to do all that, yet you don’t exactly hear him being mentioned as a sex symbol or anything. Getting to pretend to be the lover of someone like Kirsten and then going home to someone like Jennifer Connelly is more something for Brad Pitt,” Matt clarified.
“Whatever you say, but I still think you’ve been checking him out,” I said, grinning as Matt scowled at me. “All your explanation did was make me think you’ve been checking out Brad Pitt as well.”
“I was merely making a point that he’s more of a normal guy, which is a good thing. It’s heartening to know that guys who aren’t pretty boys can get hot chicks,” Matt tried to clarify.
“He may be kind of average, but that’s by Hollywood’s standard. That’s kind of like saying Jose Lima is average, but that’s really only by Major League Baseball standards. He may not be able to get Albert Pujols out, but he could still probably strike me out on three pitches,” I shrugged, putting my feet up on the console. “You pretty much have to be at a certain level of attractiveness to even get a speaking role, so by virtue of that he’s not exactly a hunchback with hairy moles covering his face.”
“You might want to put your feet down before Kenny sees,” Sarah squawked into my headphones, knowing that putting your feet up on the console happens to be one of Kenny’s big pet peeves.
“Are you two having fun talking about good looking men?” Kirsten said, teasing both of us.
“Hey, he started it,” I said, pointing at Matt. “He’s the host, I’m just the annoying guest here to bother everyone else.”
“And you’re doing a mighty fine job of it,” Matt said, pushing my feet off the console.
“Fine, then go ahead and play that Jojo song I know is due to come up in the next few minutes and be done with it,” I told him.
“Richie’s not bothering me, I like watching you two bicker,” Kirsten piped up.
“You saw the cd when you came in didn’t you?” Matt asked me as he started playing Jojo’s Leave (Get Out). “Anyway, we’ll be back in a few minutes with more Kirsten Dunst and today’s Top 5 List.”
“I’m psychic, didn’t you know?”
“Then what am I thinking right now?” Matt asked me, trying to test me.
“You’re thinking of your girlfriend over there,” I replied, pointing at Sarah. “She looks great naked in your head too.”
“How did you know we’ve been dating?” Matt demanded. “I never told you that.”
“Sarah’s been staring at you like she wants to come in here and take you on top of the console since I came in,” I replied. “When you flinched when I flirted with her, it made it pretty easy to figure out that there was something there.”
“What about the song?” Matt asked.
“I know the stuff that Kenny puts on the play list like the back of my hand. I also happen to know what’s popular. It was only a matter of time before Jojo came up,” I explained.
“When did you get so insightful?” Kirsten asked me.
“I’ve always been pretty good at reading situations. It’s when women are flirting with me that I have the problem,” I explained. “But Anna helped me out a lot with learning how to read women.”
“Sorry to hear about Anna,” Matt said.
“Sorry about what?” Kirsten asked both of us.
“Richie’s back in LA, but Anna’s staying in New York,” Matt responded, looking at me to see how much I wanted him to divulge.
“Oh,” Kirsten said quietly.
“By the way, I’m not the prodigal son,” I told Matt.
“What?” Matt asked, just staring at me.
“When you introduced me, you said that the ‘prodigal son has returned’ but that’s not correct. The prodigal son refers to someone who goes off and squanders everything. I’m actually better off now than when I left, Anna notwithstanding,” I explained. “If I were the prodigal son then I’d be coming back in rags, and you better swallow that crack about my clothes that’s on the tip of your tongue before I make you swallow your teeth.”
“I’d never make a joke about your ratty shorts,” Matt said, breaking into a grin.
“You’ve got about thirty seconds,” I told Matt, hearing what I was pretty sure was the final commercial coming through the headphones.
“More like twenty,” Sarah trilled into my ears over the commercial.
“You have different commercials here than in New York. You can’t expect me to know the exact time,” I shrugged, explaining to Sarah why I was ten seconds off.
“We’re back with Kirsten Dunst and the long lost Richie Tozier,” Matt announced into the microphone when we came back on the air.
“How come I got second billing there? I’m sure the listeners would much rather listen to me than a beautiful, young Hollywood actress,” I joked.
“Maybe about ten percent of the male population, but I think even the women out there would prefer Kirsten to you,” Matt shot back.
“Damn, you’re really busting my chops today. This job is really going to your head, you know that?” I said, smirking.
“He knows the audience would rather listen to you than him, so he’s compensating,” Kirsten told me.
“She’s beautiful and can stick it to Matt as well, I love it,” I chuckled.
“Lets do the Top 5, shall we?” Matt asked, shifting topics.
“I should get to object since you stole the concept from me,” I told him.
“You stole it from High Fidelity, so don’t even pretend it’s a Richie original,” Matt responded, picking up a sheet of paper from in front of him. “Anyway, Top 5 Things Wrong With Spider-Man 2 is today’s topic.”
“There was nothing wrong with it and you know it,” I said, snatching the paper out of his hand and crumpling it up. Without looking I tossed the wad of paper over my shoulder at the trash can in the corner. “Now where’s the real list?”
“You missed,” Matt observed as the paper bounced off the wall and to the floor at the side of the can.
“It’s been months since I took that shot and I was in that chair the last time I did it,” I told him.
“Okay, Top 5 Movies Of The Summer is the real list for today,” Matt said, pulling out another piece of paper and passing it to Kirsten.
“Honorable Mention is The Manchurian Candidate,” Kirsten read from the list.
“Not as good as the original, but Denzel is always worth the admission,” I said.
“Not always, but close,” Matt said.
“Number 5 is Collateral,” Kirsten read.
“Tom Cruise should play more bad guys. He’s just so good at it,” Matt said.
“Should be #2 or #3, but it’s your list so I’ll hold my complaints for the movie I know you’ll leave off,” I told Matt.
“Number 4 is Anchorman,” Kirsten said.
“I try to hate Will Ferrell, but I can’t,” I said, shaking my head.
“He’s a funny guy, and I’m still laughing my ass off over Elf,” Matt said.
“Dodgeball is number 3,” Kirsten said, rolling her eyes.
“Now Ben Stiller, there’s someone I have no problem hating,” I said, joining Kirsten in the eye rolling.
“He’s hilarious,” Matt said, trying to defend his choice.
“Whatever,” I shrugged, not agreeing with him in the least.
“Number 2 is Shrek 2,” Kirsten announced.
“What can I say, I’m a sucker for the big green ogre,” Matt said.
“I’ll give you Shrek, but if you had tried to put him at the top I would’ve had to boycott the list out of respect for the greatest superhero movie ever,” I told him.
“Number 1 is Spider-Man 2. We were really proud of the movie and the reviews it’s gotten have just been amazing,” Kirsten said.
“As if there was any doubt where Spidey would finish,” Matt smirked.
“You forgot Fahrenheit 9/11 but I already knew your conservative leanings wouldn’t let you acknowledge it,” I informed him.
“It was just there to make Bush look like an idiot,” Matt said, his turn to roll his eyes.
“Bush is an idiot,” Kirsten told him.
“That’s why I didn’t like the movie. If you want to see Bush look dumb, just watch CNN,” Matt shrugged.
“You could watch Fox News, but they’d start kissing his ass so bad you’d think he’d just found the weapons of mass destruction instead of dropped his dog on it’s head,” I groaned.
I saw Matt reaching to put a cd in. Raising an eyebrow I looked up and saw Kenny standing next to Sarah heatedly telling her something. It didn’t take much to know that Matt was being ordered to cut to something other than a political conversation. Gritting my teeth, I took my headphones off just as Christina Milian’s Dip It Low hit them.
“Leaving already?” Matt asked, seeing me start to get up.
“I’m not a big fan of being muzzled,” I replied, nodding toward Kenny.
“Wait up,” Kirsten said to me as I reached to open the door. “I’ll walk out with you.”
+ * + * +
After leaving the studio, I decided to go grocery shopping so I’d actually have food in the house. Actually I needed some beer to put in the fridge, but it makes you sound like much less of an alcoholic if you use food as an excuse.
Wandering around the store, I tossed whatever looked good in the cart. A loaf of bread, some hamburger patties, a box of frozen waffles, and some other assorted necessities made it in before I made it to the beer aisle.
Once in the beer aisle I was having trouble deciding what kind to buy. Domestic or imported? If domestic, then did I want Budweiser, Miller, Coors, or a micro brew? If imported, should I go with Corona, Heineken, Guiness, Molson? And then there was the choice between regular and light.
“Here,” a familiar female voice said as a 12-pack of Corona was shoved at me.
“Are you stalking me or something?” I asked, smiling as I turned around to face Kirsten .
“What, a girl can’t go shopping?” she returned, pointing at a cart loaded with mostly healthful foods compared to my greasy buffet of chips, meat, and cheese products. “I needed a few things and I saw you standing there deep in thought on my way to the check out counter so I figured I’d help you out.”
“Beer is a tough decision,” I said, putting the beer in my cart.
“I kinda guessed that by watching you,” she said. “So, how are you doing?”
“Not bad, my new show starts on Monday,” I answered as we pushed our carts down the aisle.
“No, I mean about Anna,” Kiki corrected me.
“It hurts, but there’s not much I can do about it,” I replied truthfully.
“You know what you need?” Kirsten asked me, turning the corner and motioning me for me to follow her.
“You’re not going to tell me to put the bacon away are you? Because I’ve been without it for almost a year and I’m likely to bite anyone that tries to get between me and my fatty breakfast foods,” I told her.
“No, nothing like that,” she said, turning another corner and into an aisle with freezers on both sides. “You need ice cream.”
Looking where she was pointing, I saw that she had indeed taken me to the ice cream aisle. Shelves and shelves of the cold, sweet goodness were staring back at me. I opened a freezer door and grabbed a carton of pralines and cream only to have Kirsten snatch it out my hand before the door could even close.
“First rule of a heart break ice cream binge is that it has to have chocolate,” she informed me, putting my choice back. Studying the case, she finally saw what she wanted and opened the door to get it. “Here we go, death by chocolate.”
“But I really like pralines and cream,” I protested as she shoved her choice into my hands.
“Then get some if you want, but only chocolate will make you feel better,” she said.
“So you want me to go home and overdose on chocolate ice cream? How is that going to make feel anything but fat when I’m done?” I inquired.
“Second rule: don’t question why it works, just know that it does,” she said, dismissing my concerns.
“Okay, okay,” I said, putting the ice cream in my cart. “Any more rules I need to know while I’m at it?”
“Not really, but it helps to have someone to talk to while you’re bingeing,” she replied. “Because Matt probably wouldn’t be much help, that’s where I come in. Oh, and I get to hold the carton.”
“You just want free ice cream, huh? If you wanted me to buy you ice cream, all you had to do was ask,” I told her.
“Shut up and go pay for your stuff,” Kirsten said, rolling her eyes at me.
+ * + * +
“Spill it,” Kirsten told me, plopping down on my couch with the ice cream in one hand and two plastic spoons in the other.
“What do you want to know?” I asked her, sitting down next to her and taking the spoon she offered me.
“Was it messy? Messy break-ups suck,” Kirsten said, cringing.
“No, it was a very friendly thing. In a way, it actually hurt more because of it,” I replied. “There wasn’t the closure that you get after screaming obscenities and throwing things at each other.”
“So what happened then?” Kirsten prodded, dipping her spoon into the ice cream.
“I was offered a syndication contract, but I had to move back here to get it. I wasn’t going to take it because Anna has school in New York, but she told me to take it. It was kind of one of those ‘if you love something, set it free’ type of things,” I responded, taking a big scoop of ice cream myself.
“She’s only got a year of school left doesn’t she? Is she going to come out here when she’s done?” Kirsten inquired.
“Yeah, she graduates in May but I don’t know if she’ll move out here or not. She’s got a great place in New York and she’s happy there,” I replied, feeling the magic of Kirsten’s ice cream binge idea starting to work.
“Sounds like you’re planning on spending the next year living like a monk waiting for her to decide what to do,” Kirsten pointed out. By this point she’d slouched down on the couch with her feet on the coffee table and the hand holding the ice cream resting on her stomach.
“I was planning on having a couple flings and then deciding what to do,” I responded. “You know, a rebound relationship or two. No commitment, just hot, sweaty, dirty sex.”
“That’s good. You’re not ready for another serious relationship yet, but hot, sweaty, dirty sex is a good thing to aspire to,” she said, smiling as she licked her spoon clean.
“Who says I’m not ready for a relationship?” I asked her, digging into the ice cream.
“You did when you said you just wanted a fling without commitment,” she responded, her voice cranking up a notch in surprise when the ice cream slipped off my spoon to land on her shirt right between her breasts. “Geez, that’s cold.”
“Sorry about that,” I apologized, scooping the ice cream up. I was about bring it to my mouth when she grabbed my hand.
“You have to at least buy me dinner before I let you eat ice cream off my chest,” she said. She then sucked the ice cream off my spoon and let my hand go.
“Then lets go get something to eat,” I suggested.
“I was joking about having to buy me dinner first,” she said.
“I’m hungry and all this sugar on an empty stomach is making me a little edgy,” I explained. “I’d cook something but the pots and pans didn’t survive the looting that claimed everything else around here.”
“I’m not going out to eat with a big, brown ice cream spot on my shirt like this,” she said, pointing at her chest.
“It’ll give guys a handy excuse to stare at your chest. They’d stare whether it was there or not, but this way they can say they were just trying to figure what the spot was,” I said, grinning. “If you want, you can wear one of my shirts. They’re probably a bit big, but one of them should work.”
“Fine, but I’m not wearing that Vanilla Ice shirt I know must be lurking in there,” she said, crossing to my bedroom door.
“Give me a little credit here. I got rid of the Vanilla Ice shirt long ago. Even if I didn’t, Anna wouldn’t have let it through the door,” I joked.
“Then you won’t mind if I shred it if I happen to find it,” she smirked, closing the door behind her.
“Geez, you’d think someone who was in a Savage Garden video would appreciate bad music,” I muttered, just loud enough for her to hear through the door.
“Don’t start with me,” Kirsten yelled.
“Why not? You gonna hurt me or something?” I hollered back.
“I’ve got a Neil Young shirt ready to be torn apart,” Kiki answered.
“You win, just don’t hurt the shirt,” I whined, wanting to charge in there and rescue it but at the same time not wanting to be accused of being a pervert in case she was half naked. Actually, the possibility of her being half naked was another reason I wanted to charge in there but I managed to fight the impulse.
“Thought so,” Kirsten said triumphantly, coming through the door wearing a black t-shirt with the Mets ‘Mr. Met’ mascot pissing on a Yankees logo that I’d picked up outside Shea Stadium after a game early in the baseball season.
“You were bluffing about the Neil Young shirt, weren’t you?” I asked her.
“Maybe,” Kirsten said, her cheeks dimpling as a grin crossed her face.
“Don’t expect anything fancy,” I told Kirsten as I shut and locked the door behind us. “I’m still just a lowly DJ after all, and we’re not exactly dressed for fine dining.”
“That’s okay, I feel like slumming tonight anyway,” she said, smirking with the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. “We’re taking my car though. I’m driving, you’re paying.”
+ * + * +
“So, why’d you become a DJ?” Kirsten asked me after we’d finished eating. We were sitting in my favorite almost-dive Mexican restaurant. She had half a margarita sitting in front of her, I had an almost empty glass of Tecate warming beside my empty plate.
“I guess you could say I just lucked into it,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I lifted my glass of beer and stared at her over the rim before taking the final couple gulps.
“I’ll bite,” she sighed. “How’d you ‘luck’ into it?”
“My dad’s an accountant and when I was sixteen he happened to do the taxes for Gary, the manager at the station before Kenny. Gary was a great guy, so he put me to work. Mostly grunt work like racking tapes of the shows in the archives, organizing the music, delivering mail,” I explained. “Not exactly glamorous stuff, but I thought it was great. All my friends worked at McDonalds or Taco Bell while I was working in a radio station.”
“But how’d you get on the air?” Kirsten persisted.
“I’m getting to that. Sheesh, find some patience will ya?” I teased her, catching the waitresses attention to have her bring me another beer. “Anyway, one Saturday I was there and the DJ didn’t show up so Gary had to throw someone in the booth so it wouldn’t be dead air. I happened to be the first one he could grab on his way there.”
“It does sounds like you lucked into it,” she said.
“I sucked big time since it was my first time, but when the DJ who was pulling the shift got fired, Gary let me spend a couple hours a day in there on the weekends. Eventually I got better and it became a permanent thing,” I shrugged, taking the beer from the waitress.
“Wow, that’s pretty good. You pretty much went from the mail room to the board room. I’m impressed,” Kirsten said, nodding her head in approval.
“Like I said, I lucked into it. Someone was going to get the shot, I just happened to be the one tossed to the wolves,” I said, downplaying my accomplishments.
“Maybe, but you survived and flourished when most people would’ve failed,” she pointed out.
“It’s a job that lets me watch incredible amounts of television and spent tons of time listening to music. I’m really only qualified for what I’m doing, so that’s more proof of how lucky I am,” I said. “No other job would give me money for knowing who Veruca Salt are, or that the name of their first album, American Thighs, is a reference to AC/DC’s You Shook Me All Night Long.”
“Who are Veruca Salt?” Kirsten asked me.
“They had a modest hit in the mid 90’s with Seether, then a smaller hit a couple years later with Volcano Girls. A few years ago Nina Gordon broke off and released her solo debut, Tonight And The Rest Of My Life. Veruca Salt is still around last I checked, but it’s not the same without the dual hot chick combo of Nina and Louise Post,” I responded.
“You always give more information than is needed, you know that?” Kirsten said, taking the final sip of her margarita.
“Hey, I could’ve told you they named themselves after the bratty rich girl in Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, but that should be pretty obvious,” I said.
“Oh yeah, that’s really obvious,” she said, rolling her eyes but grinning to show she was just giving me a hard time.
“Well, there’s always the fact that they were discovered at the South By Southwest music festival and signed to Minty Fresh Records. That certainly would’ve revealed me for the geek I am,” I shrugged.
“If you get paid for that stuff, then you obviously work your butt off,” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s not work. It’s called getting paid to sit on my ass while soaking up pop culture like a sponge. Plus I get to meet people that even the rich and famous would die to meet,” I said, grinning.
“Would you like anything else?” the waitress asked us. “Maybe some dessert?”
I was about to say no, but I saw the glimmer in Kirsten’s eyes at the mention of dessert that made me change my mind. “Why not? The mud pie sounds good to me, how ’bout it Kirsten?”
“Chocolate,” Kirsten said, nodding her head as her eyes glistened over the thought of more chocolate.
“You’re definitely a woman,” I mused. “Give you chocolate and you starts drooling like Homer Simpson staring at a doughnut.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I’ll let you eat ice cream off my chest like you wanted to earlier,” she said.
“Is it working?” I asked her, just testing to see her reaction.
“The dessert was a nice touch,” she confessed.
“Sorry about earlier,” Matt said from next to me.
“Don’t worry about it. Not your fault. Kenny’s the one who shut it down,” I said, looking up to see Sarah standing beside Matt.
“Sit down before people start thinking we’re rude,” Kirsten told them, motioning to the empty chairs at the table.
“That’s okay, we’ll find our own table,” Matt declined.
“The lady told you to sit, and you don’t want to piss her off. She can hurt you, you know. You don’t want to find yourself being denied entrance into Spider-Man 3 do you?” I asked Matt.
“Fine,” Matt said, pulling out a chair for Sarah and then taking the other seat.
“Anything else?” the waitress asked, eyeing Matt and Sarah as she set the mud pie in front of Kirsten.
“Matt always has the chicken burrito, and Sarah looks like a taco salad kind of girl,” I said, looking at Sarah to see if I right.
“Alright then,” the waitress said when Sarah nodded.
“Nice shirt,” Matt told Kirsten as he watched her tear into the mud pie. “I never figured you for a Mets fan.”
“I am from New Jersey after all. It’s either the Mets or Yankees there. But it’s not mine, it’s Richie’s,” Kirsten responded.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I told Matt as I tried to sneak my spoon through Kirsten’s defenses to get some of the chocolate goodness. “I’ve been a good boy.”
“I guess that answers whether or not you learned to root for the Yankees while you were in New York,” Matt said.
“Hell will freeze over before you catch me wearing pinstripes,” I snorted. “The Mets have the better Matsui, and they’ve got some nice young players. They also don’t have Jeter drawing praise for managing to win rings with the highest payroll in the league around him.”
“I’m going to go powder my nose,” Kirsten said, pushing away from the table, the mud pie little more than a smear of chocolate on the empty dish.
“Don’t even ask it,” I told Matt as he stared at me, his mouth opening to ask me whether I’d fucked Kirsten or not. “I told you, I’ve been a good boy.”
“Then why is she wearing your shirt?” Matt asked.
“She got ice cream on hers, so she’s wearing one of mine. It’s called being nice,” I replied.
“Were you eating it off her or something?” Matt asked.
“The carton was resting on her stomach, but we were both fully clothed and it wasn’t some kinky sex thing. It was just two people eating ice cream,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Uh huh, yeah, okay,” Matt said, the sarcasm dripping off his words.
“If he says nothing happened, then nothing happened,” Sarah told Matt. “Besides, Richie’s good looking, and sorta charming, but not enough to get someone like Kirsten into bed.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” Matt told her, virtually choking on his laughter. “We’ll have to watch X-Men tonight so I can show you who he’s been living with the last ten months. Maybe then you’ll believe what he’s capable of.”
“I’ve heard the rumors about Alyssa Milano, but I don’t believe them. I just don’t believe that Richie could get someone like that to sleep with him,” Sarah said.
“Want to come back to my place with me so you can see why they fall all over me?” I asked her, flashing her my best smile as I reached across the table to lightly touch her hand.
“No thanks,” Sarah said, but the way she glanced at Matt and blushed told me that if he hadn’t been there she would’ve taken me up on the offer.
“See, that’s what he does,” Matt told her, frowning at my attempt to pick up his girlfriend.
“Okay, so maybe he’s a charmer but he’s still no Jake Gyllenhaal,” Sarah informed us.
“You know, in some ways Jake’s no Richie Tozier,” Kirsten said from behind us.
“Of course, but only in the good ways like not spending all summer trying to figure out whether Chloe Sullivan is really dead or not,” I told Kirsten.
“You ready?” Kirsten asked me, picking up her purse off the back of her chair.
“Sure thing,” I said, standing up. I pulled out my wallet to fish a fifty out and toss it on the table in front of Matt. “That should cover ours, and feel free to use whatever’s left for your own dinner. Consider it a congratulations on the new girlfriend gift, or an apology for leaving early this afternoon and taking your guest with me. You know, whichever you think is more appropriate.”
“You can buy me a beer tomorrow for the apology instead,” Matt informed me.
“I’ll see you on Monday. I can buy it for you then,” I told him.
“Why am I seeing you on Monday?” he asked me.
“You’re probably going to be my new producer whether you want to be or not,” I said, grinning.
“You know something I don’t, don’t you?”
“I don’t know anything for sure, but I do know that my show is getting the morning slot. So either Al leaves with me taking his slot or he’ll slide back and take someone else’s spot. My guess is you’ll be the one to draw the short straw since you’re the low man on the totem pole,” I explained. “Lucky for you, I need a producer so you can tell Kenny you’re joining my show and make it easier on everyone.”
“Why hasn’t anyone told me about this?” Matt asked me.
“Don’t ask me, ask your boss,” I snorted. “Like I said, nothing’s concrete, but I’ve been around long enough to guess which way the wind is blowing. My guess is you’ll get the call tonight or find out tomorrow, but I’d be prepared to take my offer if I were you. I know I’m not as easy on the eyes as Sarah is, but my show pays better.”
“If you’re paying more, then I won’t even wait for Kenny to decide. I’ll take it now,” Matt said.
“Then I’ll see you on Monday if I don’t see you this weekend,” I told him before escorting Kirsten out.
+ * + * +
“I live the other way,” I told Kirsten as she took an apparent wrong turn.
“I know,” she said, not bothering to elaborate.
“Are you going to kidnap me and force me to pleasure you in ways I can’t fathom?” I asked her hopefully. “If so, then count me in.”
“Shoot, you just ruined it,” Kirsten joked. “I can’t kidnap you if you’re willing to go along.”
“Then where are you taking me?” I asked her.
“You’ll see,” she told me, not taking her eyes off the road.
“It’s not one of those ‘dig your own grave’ situations like you see in the movies, is it?” I asked her. “You know, the ones where the bad guy takes the good guy out into the middle of nowhere to ice him, but only after the good guy has to dig a hole big enough for his body.”
“Don’t be silly, I didn’t bring a shovel,” she said.
“Nothing good ever happens when someone takes me some place but won’t tell me why. My mom always took me to the dentist that way. She’d load me into the car and then, bam, I’m getting this huge needle stuck into my gums. I haven’t trusted anyone that won’t tell me where we’re going since,” I told her.
“You can trust me,” she said. The tone of her voice was so sweet that I instinctively felt the urge to fling myself from the moving vehicle.
“You are going to kill me, aren’t you? Either that or you’re going to break my legs and force me to write you a novel like Kathy Bates in Misery, I just know it,” I said, eyeing her warily.
“Come on Richie, you’re a DJ so I’d make you play music for me,” she said as she pulled up in front of a really nice house. “We’re here.”
“Where’s here, and there wouldn’t happen to be a large cage built into the basement would there?” I asked her, reaching for the door handle.
“This is where I live, and no, there’s no cage. Well, at least none that I know of. I don’t go down there much so my brother might have built one lately,” she said, opening her car door. “If you want, you can stay out here. I need to unload the groceries, but I could leave the radio on for you if you’re too scared.”
“Promise not to abuse me?” I asked her, reaching for the handle to open the door.
“Scout’s honor,” she said.
“You weren’t a Boy Scout,” I pointed out.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Well, for one thing you’re not a boy,” I told her.
“Will you just get out of the car and grab a bag?” she snorted, walking around the back of the car to the trunk.
“Sure, why not?” I said, getting out of the car. Walking around to the back of the car, I grabbed a bag of groceries and waited for her to close the trunk before following her into the house.
“The vegetables go in the fridge,” Kirsten said, thrusting a couple plastic bags at me.
“Yes ma’am,” I said, nodding my head and obediently following her orders.
After I’d put them away I turned and saw her reaching over her head to put a box of cereal into the cupboard. Her jeans hugged her ass and I made damn sure to enjoy the view for the few seconds it took for her to close the cupboard and turn back around.
“Now we get to go have some fun,” Kirsten declared when everything was put away.
“Fun?” I asked her, wondering what kind of fun she was talking about, and whether it included getting naked.
“I’m going to go change and then I’m taking you dancing,” she replied.
“You should know that I dance a little like Elaine on Seinfeld. George once described it as a ‘full body dry heave’ and that’s a pretty solid description of how I dance,” I told her.
“That’s okay, but I’m going to have to take you home to change first,” she said, leaving me standing in the kitchen.
+ * + * +
“If you wear that shirt, I’m leaving you here and going alone,” Kirsten informed me when she saw me pull out my beloved black shirt with blue skulls all over it. Compared to her emerald green slip dress, I had to admit that it did look a little off the wall, but it was still my favorite shirt.
“Then what can I wear that won’t have you peeling out of my driveway in a hurry to get the hell away from me?” I asked her.
“This one looks nice,” she said, pulling out a short sleeved black shirt with a subtle brown hexagonal design on it out of my closet.
“Figures you’d pick something my mom gave me,” I snorted, pushing her out of the room so I could change.
+ * + * +
“If I’m going to dance, I need some liquid courage,” I informed her as we walked through the door of the club and she started to pull me straight to the dance floor.
“Okay, but hurry up. I want to dance,” she said, depositing me by the bar.
I watched her just to see where she wound up sitting, not to watch the way the dress moved as she walked or the sight of her legs extending out of her calf high boots or anything, before ordering a Jack and Coke. When it was set in front of me, I took a quick gulp and let the whiskey burn a path down my throat before going after her.
“Ready yet?” she asked me when I set my drink on the table.
“You’re never fully ready to make an ass of yourself, but I’m close enough,” I said, holding out my hand to her.
She tugged my hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor. My mind was put slightly at ease when I saw a guy really making an ass out of himself because no matter how bad a dancer I am, I’m not that bad.
“You’re not as bad as you think you are,” Kirsten told me when the song was finished.
“Maybe it’s just the partner then,” I told her, getting the dimpled smile I was after.
A slow song started and she didn’t even hesitate to wrap her arms around my waist. Slow dancing is something I can actually do, so I shrugged and enjoyed the way her chest pressed against me as we danced.
Every couple songs we’d take a break for a song before she dragged me back out there. As much as I normally hate dancing, I had to admit that I was having fun. Whenever a song she liked came on, her face lit up and it was worth every bit of energy expended just to see her having fun like that.
“Ready to go?” she finally asked me after a couple hours.
“Yeah,” I replied. I was having fun, but I was also starting to get tired.
“Then lets go,” she said, dragging me out by my hand.
+ * + * +
“Want to come in for coffee?” I asked Kirsten when she pulled into my driveway. “Luckily no one took my coffee maker.”
“Sure, I’d love some coffee,” Kirsten warmly accepted.
“You can play music if you want,” I told her as I closed the front door behind us. I had plugged some speakers into my portable cd player to get me through until I got out to do my electronics shopping spree.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she hollered at me from the living room while I set about making coffee.
“About what?” I asked her, wondering which cd had roused that kind of reaction from her.
“The Spice Girls? I never would’ve thought,” she said, sounding completely amused.
“Pull it out and look closer,” I told her, pouring water into the coffee maker so it could start to percolate.
“Oh, well that’s more like you,” she said.
“My friend borrowed it a few years ago and lost the case. When he gave it back to me he stuffed it in the case for his Spice Girls cd and I haven’t bother to change it to an empty jewel case,” I explained. The moment I walked into the room I heard the opening of Rick Derringer’s Rock And Roll Hoochie Koo start, letting me know that she’d popped in the cd in question.
“I love this movie,” she said.
“Yeah, Dazed And Confused is a definite classic. I’m more into it because of the music, but it’d still be a great movie even without having Sabbath, ZZ Top, Nugent, Nazareth, Skynyrd, and Kiss on the soundtrack,” I responded.
“The Runaways?” she asked, looking at the list of bands that appear on the soundtrack on the front cover. “Who are they?”
“Lita Ford and Joan Jett were part of the band, but neither of them really had a whole lot of success until they left to do their own thing. The song of theirs on here is pretty good though,” I said, flipping forward until Cherry Bomb started.
“That’s all you’re going to give me? What happened to giving ten times the details needed?” she prodded.
“Well, they were teenagers put together to basically be sluts on stage. They were on stage what everyone now knows the Go-Gos to have been behind the scenes,” I explained. “They really were the forerunners to a lot of what the riot girl movement of the 90’s, led by the likes of Courtney Love and L7, wound up being. You could also make a case for them being an early attempt at a girl version of the modern boy band.”
“There you go. There’s the Richie I know,” Kirsten said, smiling.
“It’s actually kind of fitting that they wound in the cd case of a pretty direct descendant group like the Spice Girls,” I added after a couple moments of thought. “Our coffee should be ready by now, I’ll go check.”
“You almost sounded like you wanted to leave the room there,” Kirsten told me when I came back with mug of coffee in each hand.
“Why would I do that?” I asked her, handing her one of the cups.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were embarrassed,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Well, I do tend to go into geek rather easily,” I shrugged.
“What the hell is this?” she asked me as the next song started with a very 70’s electronic, almost disco-ish opening.
“This is Sweet,” I replied, not really wanting to elaborate for fear I’d go into über-geek mode again.
“The song’s okay, but I wouldn’t call it sweet,” she said. Her face had a blank expression on it, and I knew that she had no idea that she’d completely meant what she’d said.
“No, the band is called Sweet,” I said, trying hard not to laugh.
“If you laugh, I’m out of here,” she frowned.
“I’m not laughing,” I said, barely controlling the gales of laughter gathering like a storm in the back of my throat.
“You’re about to,” she pointed out.
“No I’m not,” I said, taking a sip of my cover to cover the smirk that crossed my face.
“Just do it and get it over with,” she sighed.
“I’m not gonna laugh,” I told her, starting to get a handle on my mirth. “Why don’t I change the cd?”
“Sure, but you’re just going to laugh quietly when your back is to me so I can’t see,” she said.
“No I won’t,” I said, doing exactly what she said I would the moment I turned away from her. “What do you want to hear?”
“I don’t know,” she said from right behind me. She reached out and grabbed a cd and handed it to me. “This looks good.”
“I thought you agreed with Matt when he said Stevie Ray was a hack,” I said, taking the cd from her hand and popping it in.
“You also told Matt you weren’t going to have sex with me,” she whispered into my ear, making the temperature in the room shoot up several degrees.
“I didn’t know I was wrong about that one,” I coolly replied.
“Do you want to be?” she asked me.
I started to turn around to face her, my brain trying to come up with an excuse not to sleep with her. As you might have guessed, Anna was the only thing that came to mind as to why I shouldn’t want to fuck a beautiful woman like Kiki. Even that argument was silenced before I could voice it though when Kirsten grabbed my head and brought it down to kiss me.
“We both need a little rebound fling so why not have one together?” she asked me when she broke the kiss.
Her proposal made so much sense that all I could do was nod and let her lead me to over to the couch. Pushing me down onto it, she straddled my lap and leaned in to kiss me again. My hands wandered over her back and her arms went around my neck as she pressed herself against me.
Breaking the kiss, I let my lips trail down her neck. When I gave the hollow of her throat a kiss, she moaned into my ear and momentarily drowned out the sound of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s guitar.
While my mouth was busy on her neck, my hands strayed further down her back to ass. The satiny fabric of her dress did little to hide the firmness of her rear end as I gripped it and held her against me. Slipping my hands under her dress, I found her ass bare except for the small string of a thong parting the cheeks.
“So hard,” Kirsten panted, grinding against my crotch.
“Yes it is,” I agreed, nibbling on her earlobe.
Slipping my hands under her thighs, I lifted her up and twisted around so I could lay her down on the couch. Grabbing the waistband of her panties, I tugged them down her legs before slipping them off over her sandals.
“Leave them on,” I told her as she tried to kick her shoes off. I was more concerned with the time it might take her to get them off than anything else, but they did look pretty good on her.
Shrugging at my request, she instead shifted her focus to getting her dress off. I tucked one leg underneath me with the other planted on the floor while I watched her squirm out of her dress. When she had dress of she dropped it on the floor and made quick work of the clasp of her ice blue bra.
Laying there completely naked, she brought her knees up until her ankles touched her thighs and beckoned me to her with one finger. Doing as she asked, I scooted forward so I could lean over her to kiss her.
When the kiss broke, she clawed at my shirt and pulled it off over my head. Before my shirt hit the floor she was already reaching for my belt. Being a little impatient, she fumbled with it for a moment before finally getting it undone.
Pulling away from her, I kicked off my shoes and socks before deliberately taking my time taking my pants off. Finally kicking my legs out of my pants, I settled back onto the couch. Her knees were pressed together in the air, but her feet were apart so I still got a nice view of the pouty lips of her pussy peeking out from between her legs.
Leaning down, I kissed her knees until they started to pull apart. Wedging my hand in between them, I pulled them apart even more, letting my lips kiss the skin of her thighs as it was revealed.
“Please,” Kirsten begged, grabbing my hair and trying to pull my head down to her pussy.
Stopping completely, I looked at her and smiled while shaking my head. When she sighed and let go for the moment, I continued my trek. As I approached my destination, I briefly wondered if I should start over or not. I decided not to though, mainly because Kirsten likely would’ve torn my head off the next time she tried to pull it to where she wanted it.
“Yes,” Kirsten hissed when my tongue lightly brushed across her labia.
I made a couple long swipes over the length of her pussy gathering up the juices that were already starting to flow from her. Finding her clit, I flattened my tongue against it and moved it in small circles and then dragged my tongue across it. Bringing my fingers into play, I slipped one into her wet hole. As I worked another finger into her I sucked her clit into my mouth.
“Oh God,” Kirsten moaned, grinding her ass into the couch.
While her clit was in my mouth I swirled my tongue around it. As I let go of her clit I let my teeth gently graze over it, drawing a loud gasp from Kirsten.
“Cum for me,” I told her, working two fingers in and out of her snatch.
“So close,” she said, humping her hips up to meet the thrusts of my fingers.
Seeing her grit her teeth, I took it as her challenging me to make her cum. Curling the fingers in her pussy a little, I ran the tips along the wall of her cunt. When her whole body shook, I let my mouth latch onto her clit again and rode hung on for dear life as her orgasm took her over.
“Oh God, oh fuck,” she moaned, her body writhing out of control. “FUUUUUUUUCK!”
When she settled down, I sat back on the couch and licked my fingers clean. After a few seconds her eyes started to open, but she still looked dazed from her climax.
“My turn?” she asked me, a little shakily.
“You want more? I guess whoever said women were insatiable was right,” I remarked.
Before she could answer, I got up off the couch and went into the kitchen. Grabbing the ice cream out of the freezer, I grabbed a couple plastic spoons and headed back into the living room.
“Oh no,” Kirsten groaned when she saw what was in my hand.
“You promised,” I told her, sitting down next to her.
“Give me that,” she said, snatching the carton and spoons away from me.
She set them down on the coffee table so she could turn her focus on me. Kneeling in front of me, she grabbed my boxers and tugged on them. She pulled them down my legs with one hand while groping behind her for the ice cream.
“Shit,” I screamed when she pressed the cold carton against my cock, practically jumping out of my skin.
“Now you know what it feels like,” she told me, setting the carton on the floor.
“You’ll pay for that,” I told her.
“We’ll see,” she said, smirking as her hand grasped my dick.
Stroking my cock, she leaned in and ran her tongue the length of my cock. Reaching the top, she let the tip trace its way along the crown before moving back down the shaft. When she reached the base she licked each one of my balls before sucking them into her mouth, one at a time.
“Yeah, suck my balls,” I groaned.
Almost as if to spite me, she chose that moment to let the nut in her mouth pop out so she could return to the shaft. After she’d licked her way back to the tip, she opened her mouth and took it inside.
Grunting, I threaded my fingers through her hair. I pulled her down onto my cock as her tongue swirled around it. When she got as far as she was going to get, I relaxed and let her work her way back up.
She increased her suction to the point where it felt like she was trying to suck my cum straight out my balls as she pulled her mouth up the shaft. Reaching the top, she swirled her tongue around the crown before blowing across the head in preparation of the return trip. The tip of her tongue stuck out of her mouth between her bottom lip and my cock, guiding her mouth back down my dick. When I hit the back of her mouth, she stopped momentarily to let her tongue caress and stroke me inside her mouth before pulling back off.
“God, but you can suck cock,” I groaned as she bobbed her head up and down, picking up speed as she effortlessly switching between sucking on the downward strokes and letting her tongue massage my cock on the way up.
After a few more minutes of that, I pulled her completely off me. When she gave me a quizzical look, I motioned with my head for her to lay down on the couch. As she did so, I grabbed a spoon off the table and the ice cream off the floor.
“You aren’t serious are you?” she sighed, rolling her eyes.
“I told you I was going to make you pay,” I told her, positioning myself between her legs.
Getting just a little ice cream on the end of the spoon, I scraped the small dollop off on her nipple. After her gasp of surprise had subsided, I bent down and licked until the bottom of her nipple was exposed. Lightly running the tip of my tongue along the exposed bit of nipple, I started following the curve of it, pushing the dollop of ice cream along in front of my tongue.
“Oh God,” Kirsten moaned as I chased the ice cream around her nipple.
The heat of her breast was starting to melt the already slightly warm ice cream. A brown drip started to break from the rest and slide down the contour of her tit. Before it could reach her stomach, I quickly lapped at it with my tongue and traced it’s route back to the main blob.
Deciding that it was time to end the little play, I clamped my mouth down over her nipple and sucked the ice cream off. After a few moments of sucking and licking the area around the nipple to make sure I got it all, and to make sure it warmed up sufficiently, I grabbed the ice cream to repeat the process with the other nipple.
Grabbing her shoulders I slid her closer to me as I warmed her other nipple up from the ice cream. My cock hovered at the opening of her pussy so I hunched my hips and slowly pushed my way in.
“Fuck,” Kirsten moaned, holding my head to her chest while trying to use her hips to get more of my cock inside her.
Still sucking on her nipple, I arched my back further, rolled my hips, and drove the rest of my dick into her. The position wasn’t the most comfortable, with my back arched like that, but the feel of her pussy wrapped so tightly around my cock made it worthwhile.
After taking a moment to let both of us appreciate the sensations, I slowly withdrew. When just the head was left in her, I pushed my way back in, a little faster than my withdrawal but still very slow and easy.
“Fuck me,” Kirsten whined, grabbing the hair on my head and pulling my mouth off her tit.
“I am,” I replied, smirking as I continued my long, slow strokes into her pussy.
“Harder,” she said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.
Without missing a beat, I grabbed her hands and pinned them to the couch just above her head. When she hooked her legs around my waist and tried to pull me into her, I slowed down even more.
“Please,” Kirsten begged, pushing her hips up to meet my thrusts halfway. With her back arched, her tits jiggled each time our bodies came together.
Grinning down at her, I gave her a couple shard strokes before slowing back down. Putting her hands together, I pinned both of them down with my left hand and let the fingers of my right hand trace their way along the curve of her arm. When they arrived at her shoulder they traveled down her side until reaching the curve of her breast.
“Mmm,” Kiki murmured as my hand enveloped her tit.
Pinching the nipple between my fingers, I finally gave her what she wanted and increased the pace of my thrusts. Letting her other hand go, I cupped her other tit as well.
“Fuck me,” Kirsten moaned, locking her legs around my waist.
I tried holding her tits as I fucked her but there just wasn’t enough support unless I wanted to put my weight directly on her chest. Since I didn’t want to do that, I grudgingly moved my hands to the couch beside her. Once braced properly, I began fucking Kirsten in earnest.
Gritting my teeth, I locked eyes with Kirsten and watched her green eyes sparkle. When she clenched her eyes shut, I moved my gaze lower so I could watch her tits giggle and bounce as our bodies crashed into each other.
“Oh God, oh fuck,” Kirsten moaned, her body starting to quiver as she grabbed my shoulders.
I could feel my own orgasm quickly approaching so the signs of the onset of her climax was a good thing. Altering my position slightly, I drove into her from a different angle. It must have worked because after a handful of strokes from the new angle she went rigid beneath me.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” Kirsten screeched, her fingernails digging into my skin.
When I felt her snatch clamp down on my cock I tried to think of box office grosses for the Bond films. It bought me a couple seconds before I couldn’t take any more. With a loud grunt of pleasure, I let go and came inside her.
+ * + * +
“So, Matt’s a Republican?” Kirsten asked me as we basked in the afterglow of sex on the couch.
“No, I said he has conservative leanings,” I replied. “You gotta understand something about Matt. His parents are old money and Republican to the bone, and you can’t grow up in that atmosphere without it rubbing off on you a little. He’s far more liberal than I give him credit for, but on a lot of things he still tends to lean to the right.”
“If his parents are rich, then why is he working in a radio station?” she asked.
“He’s the black sheep of the family. They wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer, and his act of rebellion was to major in communications in college and then go to work in radio,” I explained. “They cut him off for a while, but when they realized he enjoyed what he was doing they finally accepted it. They don’t send him big checks any more, but at least now he’s invited to family functions once in a while.”
“That’s terrible,” she said.
“It’s not so bad nowadays,” I shrugged. “When he first came to work at the station they wouldn’t even speak to him except for holidays. Now they even let him house-sit when they’re out of town. They’ll never be an exceptionally close family, but they’re working on it.”
“I guess I should be going,” Kirsten said, sitting up.
We both got up and I grabbed my clothes. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out my cell phone. Seeing that there were a couple missed calls I turned the ringer back on. Just as I was setting it down on the coffee table it rang, the riff from Liz Phair’s Supernova cutting through the quiet.
“Hello?” I asked, holding it to my ear as I turned off the music.
“Richie?” came a familiar voice out at me.
“Hi Elisha,” I responded.
“I called a couple times and was starting to think that you were avoiding me,” she said.
“I had the ringer off,” I explained. I looked up to see Kirsten fully dressed and picking her purse up. With a wave of her hand, she slipped out the door, closing it behind her.
“You work quick, you know that?” Elisha asked me.
“What makes you say that?” I asked her in return.
“You had your phone off and a door just closed. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you had a woman there,” she said.
I wanted to make a crack about it being a good thing it didn’t take a genius to figure it out or she never would have gotten it, but I bit my tongue. It was merely the fact it seemed like she was giving me the third degree that made me want to lash out, so I didn’t.
“I’m sorry, about everything I did to you, but I’m not going to apologize to you for anything I’ve done after I didn’t come back to LA like I told you I would,” I said.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I was just trying to give you a bad time,” she said. “It took me a while, but I understand why you did what you did. It wasn’t just about me versus Anna, it was about your career.”
Actually, it was mostly about the two of you, I thought to myself. But I had to acknowledge that they were pretty even at the time, more even than I would’ve admitted then. It was the fact that being with Anna meant being where my career could go forward, while being with Elisha would’ve meant staying the status quo if not going back to square one with another station that had tipped the scales.
“I just missed you when you weren’t here,” she continued. “The sex was great, but I missed being able to hang out with you.”
“I missed you too,” I confessed. I didn’t really miss the sex that much since there never seemed to be that connection I felt with Anna, but it was kind of nice doing stuff with her and then getting a blow job afterward.
“Did you like last season of the season?” she asked me, breaking the tension that had appeared out thin air.
“I didn’t really watch it,” I admitted.
“Do you want to? I can bring the DVDs over,” she offered.
“I don’t know if that would be good,” I replied.
“We can hang out and watch them together, as friends,” she said. “Just like before, except I’ll leave before we do anything stupid.”
“Fine, but I’m going to have to do some shopping beforehand,” I said, looking at all the holes in my entertainment center where my electronics had once sat.
“Okay, well let me know when you want to do it,” she said.
“I will,” I told her before hanging up.
As I set the phone down I was assaulted with misgivings. Was Elisha telling the truth about just wanting to be friends with me? I’m not the kind of person that women want to be friends with. Sure I can be funny and charming, but I’m not the type of person that people miss overly much if they only know me as well as Elisha did.
Shrugging off my paranoia, I grabbed my clothes and phone and went into the bedroom. Tossing the clothes in the pile of dirty clothes I’d already started, I set my phone on the table next to the bed and then crawled between the sheets to sleep.