Cushion for the Pushin'Mature

Apparently, the showers there worked fine. She was also shocked to find out that the penthouse was called house for a reason. It was huge!  This was not the best circumstances to be so excited over little things but she never thought she would see one and frankly even if she made it out, she’d probably never see one again. She was thinking about a solid chest and Kenny G while sitting on a sweet white couch, probably getting it dirty, and listening to the shower run.

Trying to forget about what kind of woman that made her to even think like that, she tried the TV and fuck it all if it didn’t work. Who decides these things? The showers work, the electricity works, but the TV wouldn’t even turn on. The shower shut off and now there were just shuffling noises. She leaned back on the couch and tilted her head to the side, gazing out the tall window into the night. The moon seemed larger there but it was hard to tell if it really was or if it was an illusion. He'd been in there for a while. Even she managed to reduce her normal shower time to ten minutes.  What could take a man so long?

 

The door just made a slight click as it opened but her head snapped in that direction making her wince and cup her neck. Maybe her surprisingly nimble roll earlier wasn’t so nimble or maybe she was just scared. It was too easy to feel lulled by the view outside. So far up that you don’t notice the empty streets below. Her grip on the remote tightened as she tried to adjust from that sudden feeling of panic. Then she saw him and she could only stare. She knew those eyes. She’d seen them so many times that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed them before. Something about him had changed to bring them into focus. He was clean, obviously and he’d shaved, but why… his hair. He trimmed his hair and it had been down over his eyes before.

She opened her mouth to say…something. Honestly, whatever it was- was lost because he didn’t wait for her to speak. He just walked over to where she was sitting, grabbed the remote and sat next to her. There was a moment of silence, completely awkward silence, before he leaned to the side and said, “You’re not my type.” Then he promptly pressed the power button on the remote and the LED screen popped on with a bright flash and gust of sound.

“What! Why?” The words burst out of her mouth and there is a moment where she considered grabbing the remote and throwing it through the stubborn screen.
            “You really want to know? I like a little more cushion for the pushin’, to be honest. You’re breasts are alright, I’m not a fan of plastic anyway, but I need a little something to grab on to.”

He didn’t. He didn’t just… Just as she thought she might explode from anger, it diffused and she closed her eyes and said simply, “The TV. It wouldn’t turn on for me.”

His hands stopped making the rounding gestures in which he had been trying to explain the exact size and shape he preferred and fell to his lap. He looked at her silently for a moment, the sly smirk gone from his face. “It won’t. You don’t belong here and everything here knows it.”

The End

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