Read It Out

You start reading aloud. “Alison Brie is climbing the stairs in a tight miniskirt. The camera tracks along behind her, focussing on her ass. She stops for a second to adjust her shoe, and the camera lens bumps repeatedly into her bottom until she starts climbing again…”

“No, not that part,” says Alison irritably. “But while we’re there, don’t you think that this is just a little gratuitous? And a bit creepy that the script uses my real name?”

“Umm, I don’t recognize this section,” you stammer. “I think Michael Day might have added it himself.”

Begrudgingly, you have to recognize the genius of this unexpected script revision. No-one has ever broken the fourth wall in such an inventive way before.

Alison sighs, then reaches over and flips the page, giving you a clear view down her cleavage. Her close proximity and delicious perfume make your head spin.

“Here. Tell me what’s wrong with this.”

You read aloud again. “Alison is bent over the back of the couch, one foot on the floor and the opposite knee resting on the couch back. Her upthrust ass and spread legs are an open invitation. Standing behind her, Michael caresses her breasts, then pulls her panties down and off. He discards them out the window where they flutter down eighty floors like a sexy lace butterfly.”

The paragraph seems just as poetic as when you first wrote it. The only change is that Mr Day appears to have named the male character after himself.

“It seems pretty good to me,” you shrug.

“Oh really?” says Alison, getting angry. “Well John, leaving aside the fact that the air conditioning on a modern skyscraper precludes you from opening the fucking windows on the eightieth floor, have you ever actually tried this with a real woman?”

You have to admit that you haven’t. Japanese body pillows with girls painted on them probably don’t count.

“Right,” sighs Alison, rolling her eyes. “Let’s give it a go, shall we?”

She bends over the couch, her right knee resting up on the back, her sexy butt thrust toward you. “Come on, try it, Mr Smarty Hollywood script-writer!”

Dazed, you get up and stand behind her, not sure what to do. The Rottweiler in the corner lets out a menacing growl.

“Don’t worry about Adolf, he’s harmless,” says Alison.

"I’m bent over the couch. Now follow the script.”

“Ms Brie, have you been drinking?”

“Do it!”

You get behind Alison, lean forward and tentatively cup her tits in your hands. This presses your cock against her firm ass. Your penis twitches and you hope that she didn’t feel it.

“Now, pull my pants off and chuck them out the window.”

“Literally?”

“Sure. The whole world has seen my ass already and you’re obviously someone who needs to be drawn a fucking picture.”