(Untitled)
A buzzing noise intrudes on Josh's afternoon nap, making him twitch and cling to the dream he's having. Jerking awake, he stumbles out of bed, lurches into the dresser and stubbs his toe. Whoozy and disorientated he grits his teeth against the pain and leans his head against the wall, trying to get his heart rate back down to normal. The noise has
( Read more... )
By the time Josh is bespectacled and dressed, Nic is puttering about the kitchen pulling plates and cutlery out. "Beer?" Josh opens the refrigerator and kisses Nic on the forehead before handing him a cold bottle.
Josh knows this Nic, he's the one that leads him astray whenever they go clubbing around or are hanging out at a studio filling time during the boring lulls that permeate so much of the filming. Not that Josh minds, just he's not really feeling up to much mischief today. Of course, the fact that food has been provided -- Josh's favorite too -- make him think that Nic may not be about to drag Josh anywhere. Good. Hopefully it will stay that way, or at least Josh intends to do his darn best to make sure it does.
Nic is looking flushed and happy and Josh feels a burst of affection. It takes a good minute for him to realize that he is grinning inanely at Nic and that Nic, in return, is blatantly laughing at him.
Reply
Actually Nic thinks that Josh looks ten different kinds of adorable with his specs on, but, uh, nevermind. He balances his plate - he can never get used to the american eating-out-of-the-carton thing - and his beer, and scoops up the bag in his other hand to head to the little living room.
If it can be called that. But there is a couch, and there is a table for his feet, and after Nic's swallowed his first five mouthfuls, he puts the fork down.
"Fuck I'm hungry. I got up at six and I haven't eaten. What've you been doing?"
Reply
Josh grabs one of the cartons and prods at the noddles with a fork. "Been around. Not working much, but that's cool. My sister's coming to visit again." He sighs and stretches, his joints cracking. "Better. So, what's in the bag that's gotten you all flighty?"
Reply
Josh snorts.
"In vif bag, " Nic jams his mouth with noodles and fishes out the first tape, "we have Black Beauty Rides Again, Horny Housewives Seventeen, and last but not least, Bend Over, Boyfriend - When Cheerleaders Go Bad." He beams.
"What will tickle your fancy, Nancy?"
Reply
Selecting a tape, he pushes it into the VCR and then throws the remote at Nic, "Okay, we might as well take the opportunity to mock and deride sad straight fuckers for paying good money to watch this shit."
Reply
He fast-forwards through the beginning of the 'plot'. "You have to, you know, give Johnny credit. He does attempt to make something with a story." Nic burps. "Sorry. And if there isn't a story, there's at least something stylish. Or funny. Like the helium balloon thingy--oh wait, here's some fucking about to happen."
On screen a tarty waitress has been plonked on a table by a bloke in a chef's hat and apron. She's crunching on a carrot while she pulls her tits out.
Reply
Reply
"Hmm." The waitress is moaning pathetically now while the chef paws at her tits. "Shaving is bad. Stubble is very bad. Waxing is not so bad." He's thinking about Keira and her experiments with artistically manicured pubic hair.
"Although, I had my chest waxed once and that was the single most painful experience of my life--oh yeah, give it to her, mate." Stud Chef has one of the girl's legs held up in the air for maximum gratuitous genitalia viewing.
Reply
"Had this director once who wanted me to shave my balls." Josh gestures to his groin. "But I thought, why suffer weeks of torment as the hair grows back? So I told him to go fuck himself."
The camera angle switches to underneath the action and Josh tilts his head to one side. "Now, here I can see the point of shaved balls, you know? Because hairy scrotum viewed from below is so not aesthetically pleasing. Sorry."
Reply
They both crack up as the chef gives the waitress the patented slap-and-jiggle on her butt cheek.
"I never," snorts Nic, "ever, understand that--oh, look, he's pulling out, come-shot alert, bet it's on her tits." The guy on screen starts stroking his cock and grunting.
"I fucking hate pull-out come-shots. Pisses me right off." He frowns at Josh. "Why can't we just have a come-dribble shot, ay?"
Reply
"What? No facial? I feel so cheated."
The scene on the tape shifts to the restaurant proper, where several patrons are sat at conveniently spaced tables. Huge breasted waitresses in skirts so short they look like napkins lean over taking orders.
"Oohhh! Orgy!" Josh leans his head against Nic's shoulder and shifts even further into the couch, rubbing Nic's thigh distractedly.
"Nic baby, please save me from the scary shaved people."
Reply
"It's alright, sugar," Nic buries his fingers in Josh's hair, "I think there's some cocksucking coming up soon. We can grade technique--move your elbow, you bony git."
Nic points. "Look, she's taking two at once! Can you do that, Josh?" he asks, primary school teacher voice.
Reply
The camera pans around the restaurant, stilling briefly on numerous couples as they writhe and twist in a variety of -- in Josh's opinion -- dull positions. Finally the camera shifts to a woman on her knees licking and pumping the cock of an overweight guy wearing nothing but the top half of his chef's whites. "Woo! Hoo! Finally, we have cocksuckage!"
Josh adjusts his glasses. "So, Mr Stark, how about we set the scoring parameters?" Tapping Nic on the knee he gestures to the screen, "I suggest adhering to the system used in ice-skating competition, which means 6.0 is the highest score attainable for each of the two main criteria, technical merit and artistic interpretation. The scores are then averaged out to give the final tally."
Nic dissolves into choked laughter and Josh adopts the most superior expression in his arsenal. "You may think me anal, Mr Stark, but I am merely ensuring a fair and free vote is carried out in this competition." Josh clambers off the couch and disappears into his bedroom, "I'm gonna go find paper and marker pens so we can do this properly."
Reply
"Fuck you," Josh calls back mildy.
Nic fast-forwards to see if it gets more interesting -- at least, if they get more cock. Josh probably has his limits. Two girls are busy giving head to three guys at the bar, perched on bar stools, alternating between them.
"Here, you Tonya Harding fan, lets rate this," he says as Josh lopes back in with his stationery.
"Mmmm, nice pen."
Reply
Josh clears the leftovers out of the way and begins to carefully write a series of numbers on the paper. Glancing up at the tv screen, he's momentarily mesmerised by the action. Blinking he points his pen at Nic, "And for your information, I was always more of a Nancy Kerrigan guy. Of course, Nancy's nowhere near the goddess that Michelle Kwan is."
He settles back and gestures at the screen. "Okay, First contestant up, marks for techincal merit?"
Reply
"I had no idea," he says, "you. You probably get off on World Champs or something. You disappoint me, mate. I didn't think you were the sequins and sparkles sort of homo."
He ducks from Josh's swipe.
"Okay then." Contestant number one, precariously balanced with her ass in the air, has more enthusiasm than technique. She's too fucking yappy for Nic's taste.
"She gets a three-point-five. The other one, not so bad. Careful technique. Pulls down when she licks up. I like that... maybe a five?"
Nic turns to Josh, holding his bits of paper up. "Like this, chief judge, y'nutter?"
Reply
Leave a comment