Mark lazily stabbed his fork at the frozen meal, puncturing the plastic before shoving it in the microwave. He set the timer before taking a long sip of his beer, his third of the evening. He tossed the package toward the garbage, already overflowing with similar boxes and the matching dirty trays.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, he scratched at the rough beard on his jaw.
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"Missy... wake up!"
"Who... what is it?"
"It's me, Officer McDonald. Come on, sweetie, wake up!"
"What time is it?"
"Shhhh! It's just after three in the morning. Come on, get up."
"Why?"
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I'd been to this Starbucks many times before. It was my home Starbucks. Sure, I'd seen lots of cute girls there. I do live near Hollywood, so attractive girls are by no means rare. I never approached them though. I wouldn't quite know how. Do you just go up to one and "meow" to let her know the effect her femininity is having? Doesn't she probably already know? I'm not sure if those questions are rhetorical or just pointless, but I know I'd never done it before.
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Nine o'clock on a Tuesday and I'm in bed reading. I feel you in the doorway before I see you. I look up to say hello and the words die in my mouth as our eyes meet. Intimidating is a word most people would use to describe my half of our couple. You're the affable one that everybody loves. You're the perfect boyfriend.
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"Come here."
I've been watching Sarah for the last few minutes. My book closed on my finger, marking my place. She's been, I don't know, bopping? Fiddling? Fussing? Not really doing anything, just, waffling around. She's barefooted in jeans. So,
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Booches was one of the most popular campus hangouts being only three blocks away from the large public university. It was a quiet bar where businessmen, students and professors felt equally at home. The food menu was scant consisting of little more than burgers but the owner always seemed to make everyone feel welcome and he was silent about who met who and did what with whom.
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Lorri woke to a strange sensation. She was completely uncovered, which wasn't that unusual. Her niece routinely stole all the blankets. The difference was that she felt the cool air on every inch of her skin. She never slept naked while at her sister's place. She tried to reach down and feel what had happened and felt an icy shiver run up her spine. Her hands were tied to the bedpost above her. And it felt as though she was gagged as well.
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I couldn't believe this was the guy I'd be working with. I stopped in my tracks at the doorway and furrowed my brows at the script.
TWINK: [Needs to be expressive, bubbly, seductive, cute]
The description listed all of the stereotypical roles of a twink, but this guy sitting beside Dave—or should I say on the same couch as Dave, as they were by no means near each other—was anything but. Dave insists upon introducing his actors in his house beforehand, to sort of break the ice in a relaxed atmosphere (instead of an awkward first meeting on set).
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I had always hated surprises. They made me anxious. I overthink them. He told me he had a surprise for me when I got home from work. I worried about it for hours, wondering what it could be. I thought about things I had asked for recently, everything I could possibly imagine. He hadn't given me any clues as to what it was, so I guess I'd just have to wait. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I left work and started the long drive home. It was torture. Twenty miles of wondering.
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I still remember the first time I laid eyes on Annette. She was standing on my doorstep, looking up at me, a hesitant smile forming on her full lips. She was holding a portfolio under her left arm. With her right hand she pushed a wave of auburn hair away from her eyes.
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