terminated
Evan
Women are the devil.
I celebrate my choice of DVD with another strong coffee. I'm going to do nothing but want to piss soon. I chose Terminator 2. The one where Arnie is the good guy and has to fight that bloke whose arm can turn into dangerous weapons. Enough action to keep me awake with the adrenaline of the plot. Moving right to the other edge of the sofa, well away from where Rachel is sitting, I rest my arm on the chair arm and settle down to watch it.
Throughout the film, I can see her keep turning to me. From the corner of my eye, I see the frustration on her face that I've not fallen asleep so she can win this battle of her staying the night. It's become a simple competition to me now. I can't even remember the main reasons behind it anymore. I shouldn't really give a shit if she does stay the night, I've still buggered things up, but hey I'm male, competitive, and she is not winning this. No way.
All is well until the metal man melts and Rachel starts to cry. She fucking starts crying? What the hell?
The bad guy is being destroyed. This is where you punch the air and celebrate as he becomes drops of metal. Hell, I know that in a few minutes he’ll manage to drag himself back together before the definite ending of the film.
Rachel shuffles along the sofa towards me and throws her face onto my arm, wetting my arm with her tears. She raises her head and sniffles. "This is so sad. He can't help it. He's a robot that's been programmed to kill them. Why can't they just reprogramme him? Why do they have to melt him down?" Then once again, she throws herself onto my arm with noisy sobs.
"Er, there, there. It's only a movie, Rachel." I pat her head, not knowing what else to do. I've never seen such an emotional reaction to an action flick and wonder if she's due her period, as that's when my mother would go a bit crazy.
After a couple of minutes, she lifts her head but remains snuggled into my side. She presses closer to me and fastens her hands around my arm.
"Sorry about that. Thank you. I don't know what it is about that film. It gets me every time." She looks at me, and I realise that she's snuggled up with her blowjob gaze fixed on me. Shit, how do I get her back to the other edge of the sofa?
Perfectly, that’s when a fart decides to make an appearance. Sometimes coffee has that effect on me. I let a silent, but hopefully deadly one out.
Rachel lifts herself a bit, and I can see she’s trying not to breathe in. Ha, take that and move right over there.
"Oh, Evan. I'm sorry I've wet your shirt. If you take it off, I'll go and hairdryer it for you."
What? Damn this woman.
My arm is rather disgustingly wet from her watering eyes, and God forbid her nose ran.
"I'll get another one," I tell her. I need to move away from this smell I’ve created, it’s lingering.
"I'll do it. I saw where you kept them."
She leaves the room and goes upstairs. What is she up to? I doubt this is just to escape a potent fart smell.
She returns with a new lounge top for me and leans over. "Let's take this one off then." As she moves closer, I see quite clearly that while she was upstairs she has removed her bra, so as she leans towards me to take off my shirt I get a direct view of her tits.
I leap back on the sofa. "Get to the other side, now. I get what you're doing. You're trying to seduce me again. Not a chance. Even if you have got a great rack."
She backs off pouting.
"Give it up, Rachel. Give me the key. Let’s get you a taxi and we can all go to bed and go to sleep - separately."
She tilts her chin upward. "I don't think so, Evan. I think I'll stay right here. You go up though if you want. If you're tired."
"Me. Nah, I'm absolutely fine." I try to stifle a yawn but the more I think about it, the more it makes my face stretch and hurt with the force of it.
"Great. We'll have a good catch up chat then, because really, what sort of a woman am I that sleeps with a man she doesn't know that much about anymore? It'll appease my conscience if you answer a few questions."
I sit back. This is going to be a long-arsed night. Maybe I can bore her with my answers?
"Fire away."
"Why did you never come around when we had barbecues and stuff? I was always stuck there with my family and yours, unless Mum let me have a mate round. I felt stupid."
I shrug. "It wasn't my thing to hang around with the folks, the neighbours, and the little kid from next door, so I stayed home instead."
Translation: You started wearing vest tops and cut off shorts, and I wouldn't have needed a kebab stick at the barbecue cos the meat could have hung straight from my cock.
"What made you train as an architect?"
"Seriously? You want to know why I do the job I do?"
"Yes, it’s part of who you are."
"It really isn't," I tell her. "A teacher suggested it. I couldn't be arsed to look around, so I applied. Job done.
Translation: I had a stupid teenage idea that I'd build you a house with lots of garden outbuildings so you could run your own business.
"When did you lose your virginity?"
"I was eighteen." And it was all your fault.
"How many lovers have you had?"
"Hey, this Q&A," I interrupt. “Is there only you that can ask the questions? Perhaps I want to know stuff about you?”
"Like what?"
"Like, what time are you going home."
She sighs. "I've told you. I'm going nowhere. Now, how many lovers have you had?"
I have a think. One a week since I was eighteen and now I'm twenty-five. So roughly 7 x 52. Jesus! That many!
"Bout, erm… fifty?"
"Fifty?" she says. "I've only slept with three people."
Thank goodness I lied, but as her words hit home, I feel my fist clench.
"Three people? I thought you'd only been with Callum."
"No. First, I got drunk and had a bit of an experiment with one of my college mates. I'm counting it as we did a bit of kissing and foreplay and she did stay the night at mine. We laughed about it the next day, realised we needed dicks in our lives."
I've gone still as a statue. Dear God, please, please, please, take this visual from my mind. Rachel getting it on with another woman. Jeez, I can see it now in full porno style glory. I'm going to have to go to the bathroom in a minute and rub one out. Imagine shagging Arnie instead, quick, think of Arnie with his battered Terminator head. Come on, son, down you go, down you go.
"Anyway, then I properly lost my virginity to Tony, my driving instructor. We did it in a country lane in the back of the car. I felt so dirty."
If I knew where to find this instructor, I would punch his lights out for taking advantage of a young woman.
“Of course, it comes out in my sexual fantasies now, where it’s not with Tony, and it’s hot.” She winks.
Terminator head. Terminator head.
"Then, of course, I slept with Cal, but you know that already."
"Yes. Well, thank you for letting me know. Next question, more coffee? I think we need more coffee." I run out of the room.
* * *
Rachel
I'm dying to laugh. Well, my fake crying fit didn't work so I thought I'd make up a lesbian lover and a sex in the country fantasy instead. He doesn't need to know that I've only slept with Callum. Not at the side of all the women he's slept with and fifty, I think, is a very conservative estimate on his part. There's no wonder he knows exactly what to do in bed. He's had so much bloody practice. I feel inadequate at the side of him. Maybe I should have had lots of lovers so I would know how to put a condom on with my mouth etc. I should have tried sticking my finger up his bum. I've heard men like that. I'm just so bloody, well, virginal-like. Don't get me wrong, Callum and I did it in different positions, we went down on each other. It's just wasn’t very scintillating. I had thought it was alright until tonight. Now I realise what more I could expect from being the lover of Evan Hale. I want an apprenticeship as his sex slave. That tent in his shorts before he escaped to the kitchen was hilarious. I'll have to think up some more sexy scenarios for when he returns.
His pathetic attempts to get me away from him are amusing. Does he think Callum never farted? We all trump; that’s not going to shift me. Wait til he cops a load of me after garlic bread.
I turn the TV over from the DVD channel back to the usual Freeview. There's nothing much on at this time in the morning, but then I see the fitness channel. Come on, you must have seen those sometimes. They sell fitness machines that look like bad sex toys. This is perfect. I sit back and wait for Evan to return from the kitchen. I'm a lot more relaxed now as well, without my bra. I hid the kitchen key inside it upstairs, so I no longer have an uncomfortable key in my knickers. I relax against the sofa, ready to play.
* * *
Evan
Rachel has put on some stupid sales channel. A man and a woman have a piece of plastic between their thighs which they are opening and shutting. Yep, basically, it’s like fitness porn. The woman is fit, in more ways than one, and she's clenching her thighs for all she's worth, while the cameraman zooms in on her pelvis. I mean, I wouldn't even want payment for that job.
“Can you switch this over, Rachel? It's a little boring, to be honest.”
Rachel puts her legs on the couch and starts clenching them together, then letting them fall apart and clenching again. "Hmmm, I might buy one. I can see how it can tighten your core."
Help me God, this is almost impossible. I really need you right now.
"Sit up and turn the channel over." My words come out a little harsh.
"Okay." She rolls her eyes at me, then settles on a channel selling clothes. I've read about these in the papers lately. Some of them have been noted to look a bit peaky in the nipple department.
"You can see her tits through that top, can't you?" exclaims Rachel.
I look and gulp. "Erm, yes. She must be cold."
"I'm not, I'm flipping roasting," Rachel says. "It must be all that hot coffee, or you've got the heating on." She stands up, peels off her jeans and lays on my sofa in just her panties and tee-shirt. The tee-shirt that I now notice has pointy nipples poking through it, just like the woman on TV.
Rachel looks at me, a glint in her eye, and then she swings her legs back up on the sofa and does the thigh clench thing again. "Do you think I've got the movement right, only I could do with working on my thighs."
I can't even answer. My mouth is so dry.
It's no good. My blood has drained from my brain and into my once again tented todger.
Rachel 11,000. Evan 0.