As in the previous chapter, this story is intended to be read as a script. Remember: all feedback is welcome!
Have fun!
*
Lorelei and Rory are having breakfast at Luke's, when Lane storms in and puts on her apron, without saying anything to anyone, just mumbling to herself in an angry, aggressive tone. Luke, sensing trouble, watches her for a minute as she clears a few tables, then takes her notebook and walks up to some waiting customers: an elderly couple.
"Welcome to Luke's dinner, can I take your order please?" she asks, with an obvious fake cheerfulness in her voice.
"I simply don't know, everything looks so good..." the old lady says.
Lane starts tapping her pen on her notebook, trying to get the couple to speed up their order.
The old man says: "Could we have another minute young lady?"
Lane: "How long does it take you to read the menu, there are like ten items on the damn thing!"
Luke puts down his notebook and storms over to Lane's table, immediately apologizing to the couple for Lane's rude behavior while he forcefully yanks her away from the table.
Lane: "Hey, what is your problem?"
Luke pulls her behind the counter and says: "I could ask you the same question, this is a place of business... my business; do you know how a diner works, let me spell it out for you: we give the customers food and they give us money, that money I need to buy food, gas and clothes... it's usually a good idea to treat customers like decent human beings so they would want to come back and buy more of my food. Your behavior is not exactly helping in that area right now, so either get it together or pack up and go home!"
Lane becomes hysterical and shouts: "Me, me, me... that's all you men think about; what about me, what about my needs, why doesn't someone ask me what I want... noooo, Lane'll be all right, she'll work, clean, wait on me hand and foot and take all the crap I give her, because Lane is a push-over, she won't make a fuss!"
Luke grabs her by the arm and says: "That's it!" as he literally drags her behind him, up the stairs; she doesn't stop screaming all the way till they reach his office upstairs. He slams the door shut, releases his grip on her arm and says: "Listen, you're a damn good waitress, so I am going to give you one last chance; you're not getting out of this office until we've resolved whatever it is that's bothering you!"
Without missing a beat, Lane starts ranting again, pacing up and down his office: "It's Zack, we've been fighting for three days straight now, well, fighting is a big word considering he prefers to sulk on the couch playing the same accord on his guitar over and over again, instead of having a adult conversation... I can't take it anymore, at least when I lived with my mother I was being yelled at all the time; at least there was some form of communication going on, but now it's like I am living with a guitar-playing mime!"
Luke: "Dare I ask what the fight was about this time?"
Lane, taking just enough time to breath: "That's just it, I don't think either of us can remember... I mean I get mad at him like every other day for something: for not putting the toilet seat down, for masturbating on the bed that we both sleep in, for not cleaning up the empty pizza boxes, for buying beer when there's hardly enough money to buy vegetables..."
Luke, realizing that she's not going to stop talking any time soon, decides to handle things his way and walks up to her, reaching for her apron and undoing the knot in the back, then pulling it over her head and dropping it on the floor.
Lane: "... playing video games for hours and then complaining that I don't put out; maybe if he helped me with the dishes once in a while, or picked up a broom once a week I might be more in the mood to help him out, you know..."
Luke steps in front of her -- stopping her pacing -- and grabs the hem of her T-shirt with both hands, pulling it up and over her breasts, then over her head; although Lane raises her arms to facilitate him, she just continues yapping without as much as a hint of protest.
Lane: "... but instead he spends every waking minute of the day in that garage, practicing with Brian... I mean, I am also in the band; why does he get to practice whenever he wants and I am stuck doing all the housework and all the chores..."
Luke reaches his arms around her and unclasps her ruby red bra, gently sliding the straps off of her shoulders, then the whole bra down her arms until it falls onto the floor.
Lane: "... the band hasn't had a decent gig in like forever, but still he insists on practicing every moment of his free time like he's going to Woodstock or something..."
Luke reaches down, unbuttons and unzips her jeans, then squats down, trying his best not to go crazy from her insistent yapping. As she first lifts up her left foot, then her right one - allowing Luke to take off her shoes and pull her jeans off completely -- Lane continues: "Maybe if we were making some money from our gigs, but we're barely breaking even; it sure isn't enough to compensate for all the beers he's pouring down lately!"
Luke gets back up and looks her up and down for a while, undoing his zipper and taking out his half-hard cock, tugging on it until it's completely erect and throbbing.
Lane, standing there in nothing but her white socks and her rube red panties: "You'd think that for someone who's got nothing else to do all the day long than to play guitar and drink beer, he'd be able to remember our anniversary; I would have settled for some flowers or a box of chocolates, but nothing: not even a freaking card!"
Luke puts his hand on her naked back and guides her to the table, where he gives her a little push so that she leans forward, both hands on the table; he pulls her panties down to around her knees and then uses his right hand to guide his throbbing cock in between her ass cheeks, probing for the entrance to her pussy.
Lane: "On the other hand, I should be used to it by now: he forgets every birthday, every anniversary; he even forgot about Valentine... and then he tried to get out of it by saying that it was just a commercial conspiracy and that it wasn't rock-'n-roll to buy stuffed animals or chocolates for the misses..."
Once he finds her pussy, he roughly penetrates her in one big push.
Lane: "And heaven [moan] forbids he should do anything that's [moan] not rock-'n-roll [moan]..."
After getting his whole cock inside of her, Luke establishes a slow, steady pace, focusing on depth instead of speed.
Lane: "And then this morning he [moan] had the audacity [moan] to ask me if it's [moan] the wrong time of the month [moan] because [moan] I am [moan] physically un- [moan] -available..."
Lane's accommodating demeanor is huge turn-on for Luke, causing his dick to grow even thicker and provide Lane with more friction and pleasure; she, however, doesn't let up and although she's constantly gasping for air, she just continues her monologue.
Lane: "With Zack it's [moan] always me, me, [moan] me and never [moan] about [moan] anyone [moan oh god] else... maybe my mom [moan] was right [moan], maybe I [moan] should forget [moan] about [moan] men, love [moan] and sex [oh fuck] all together and devote [moan] my life to [moan] selling Antiques!"
Luke pushes her flat on the table and puts his hands on her waist, holding onto her as he slams his cock into her, as deep and as hard as he can.
Lane: "Or maybe I should [moan] just grab a bag pack and [moan] go and see something [moan] of the world [ooohh fuck yeah]; I use to daydream [moan] with Rory [moan] about all the [moan] places we'd be [moan] visiting when we [moan] got older, but [moan] we never [moan] got around [moan] to it... we always figured we'd start [moan] in Mexico [moan] and then..."