"I am happy now that George calls on my bedchamber less frequently than of old. As it is, I now endure but two calls a week, and when I hear his steps outside my door I lie down on my bed, close my eyes, open my legs, and think of England."
The age of irony had folded back upon itself.
It wasn't George.
It wasn't her bedchamber.
And it wasn't one or two calls a week.
Rather it had been almost a month.
The guy was cute enough. A trace of the rebellious bad boy.
That had been her go to type in College. Even then, she wanted nothing to do with the real thing. Just the image. Leather jacket, maybe a slouch and a sneer. Attitude. But tempered with a smile and a little confidence.
That was a while back. And she had paid for her taste in men. The most costly experiences seem free and easy at the time.
So now, here she is, in bed with the best immediate prospect, and he is basically clueless.
And wouldn't shut the fuck up.
"This might sound odd, but I get really turned on by quiet."
"And I like it on top. Especially with a guy that is built for it."
She needed at least two solid minutes.
She wasn't thinking of England - never been to the UK, oddly enough.
She was thinking of Mickey Rourke. Young. In Diner. Body Heat.
Yes.
Tonight it would take Mickey. Minimum.
______________________
The phrase originated in the diary of Lady Alice Hillingdon
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asia rein
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Comments
Funny, I watched 9 & 1/2 Weeks, last night.
Something from the dark side.
Unspeakable acts, &c.
It's there. Save it for a story, Cathy GF. :)
Diner also.
I dunno what women like, but speculate that a certain type would go for young Mickey.
bwwwahahahahah ;D almost peed myself
I once (ok, more than once) dated a dummy. I have thought those exact words. You know when you are out at dinner with them and their lips are flapping away, and you are thinking "oh god, you so cute, if only you would just. shut. up."