Time for some reality checks, wonderful and otherwise.
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The One With Realizations
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It was now spring, and Britney had not been at the Café for two of her regular shifts in a row. I felt excited, as it likely meant that she had had a couple of auditions. Hopefully, she would get some work from at least one of them. I didn't text her to ask what was up because she hated saying anything about any opportunity until she knew whether or not it was going to pan out.
And, good news or bad, I wanted to be there in person for her when she told me.
As I walked toward the shop, I especially hoped that she would be in this morning. I missed seeing her, but more to the point, I had gone ahead and bought tickets to a movie I really wanted to see, and of all my friends, Britney was the one who would most enjoy the film.
Also informing my eagerness to see her was the fact that, in the unlikely event we made it through the film without me managing to get her off at least once, it was a dead solid certainty that we'd definitely get each other off afterward. And the timing was getting tight, since the tickets were now only two days out.
Movie theaters in LA were surprisingly shitty for the most part, mostly old and past their prime. And crowded. But there were a few more modern ones with armrests that flipped up between seats...
I stepped into the café, and saw that Britney was back at work, turned away from the counter as I entered. There were a number of customers sitting around enjoying their coffees and so on, so I refrained from audibly appreciating the view of her from behind. But I sure as fuck inaudibly appreciated it.
"Glad to see you back at work," I grumbled before she had seen me.
"Alistaire!" she exclaimed, whirling around and giving me the most brilliant smile I had ever seen on her lovely face.
"Wow, I assume you had a good audition or two?" I asked. I'd have been super bummed if she had not been happy after two days of missed work.
"Audition? Nope. I had a
screentest
. And there were
negotiations
," she beamed.
"You got a job!" I enthused.
"I got a..." she looked around. "I don't want to, can't really, talk about it here in public," she said in a suddenly quiet tone. "What time are you done with classes today?" There was a gleam in her eye that I, and select portions of my anatomy, thoroughly approved of.
"I am finished with my last class at 1:00," I said immediately. "I can drop my stuff off at my place by 1:30. Tell me where to meet you after that. Back here?"
"I get off at two," Britney said. "I'll just come over to your place as soon as I can get there. Just wait." She paused. "This is really big news, Alistaire. I expect you to be ready to celebrate extravagantly over my achievement," she finished in a voice freighted with meaning.
"Yes, ma'am!"
Yeah. After that conversation, my last class of the day felt like it took fucking forever.
But not as long as the wait after I got back to my apartment felt.
The knock came on my door less than 15 minutes after her shift ended. She had hustled over.
I opened the door wide and bowed to usher her in. "Welcome, Miss Monroe," I said.
"Nope!" was all she said, looking at me and not entering.
"What?"
"I told you I wanted you ready to celebrate extravagantly when I got here," Britney said with a stern grin. "I expected a shitload more nudity than this! I'll be back in three minutes. Use them well."
My own door closed in my face.
Well, this was a new game. She must be feeling awesome. I mused about how fun this was going to be.
Fuck! I had already stood there speculating for over a minute!
I ripped my clothes off as fast as I could, nearly toppling myself to the floor when I stupidly tried to pull off my jeans over my Converses. I had just managed to throw my stuff away from right in front of the door without killing myself when the door rapped again.
With a grin, I pulled it open and was greeted by a much more pleased smile from Britney.
"There we go," she said outright lasciviously, dragging her finger down my half-chub cock dangling before her. "I have plans for..."
She was interrupted by the sound of a deadbolt being opened from Mrs. Dunwoody's apartment right across the hall, and here I was, standing in my wide-open door with my naked dong growing rapidly!
"Eeep!" I yelped and sprang sideways, out of sight of the door across the hall. Britney had frozen at the sound of the deadbolt, but recovered and sprang forward into my apartment. She was through, but my door was still open when my neighbor lady appeared. For a 72 year-old woman, she could move fast.
Britney let the door close behind her and we both sagged.
"Which one was that?" we heard Mrs. Dunwoody ask herself, apparently not having seen Britney's face.
My friend and I giggled at each other.
"Player!" Britney chuckled teasingly.
"I am not a player," I grumbled, but with less heat than my usual denials. It had started to become apparent to me recently that I really had, in fact, become a bit of a player. I had mixed feelings about that epiphany.
"I didn't mean you had to be
nude
," Britney laughed. "I was hoping for, like, a robe or something. But I guess a player's gotta player..."
"You have awesome news?" I asked, trying to change the subject from my player-ness. "Get a national commercial?"
"I got a
role
, Alistaire!" Britney said, rapidly unbuckling the belt of her uniform. "A major supporting role in a six-episode Netflix series! No, better than that! I'm the ingenue. I even get an 'Introducing' mention in the opening credits!"
"Wow," I breathed. Film and Television are hardly my industry, but even dumb old me knew a life-changing, career-launching event. I also said, 'wow', because Britney was making short work of the buttons on the front of her 50's-style uniform.
There was no bra underneath.
Only a girl with Britney's, um, structural reinforcement could have worn that uniform through a whole shift and not have the world know she had omitted a bra that day. The depth and majesty of cleavage that I could see in the rapidly opening dress rather focused my attention.
She grabbed the lapels but did not fully open the dress. "You know," she said, suddenly hesitant, "pretty soon, you won't be the only guy seeing these naked."
"Huh?" I asked, confused. "You mean that guy, Harry? The one I like to watch hit on you at the diner? I thought you've beenhooking up with him for a while."
"Not for a month now," Britney said, distracted.
"So who is the new member of the Luckiest Guys Alive Club?" I asked curiously.
Britney took refuge from her sudden uncertainty in a withering gaze at me. "Nobody. Well, I mean..." she cut herself off. "Look dufus, I have three topless scenes, including one that is meant to be long and steamy as shit."
"Oh, wow!"
"I mean, the script as currently written only calls for two scenes where the girls make an appearance, but my contract has an option for a third to be potentially added in re-writes. My agent, the old horndog, is certain that with a girl that looks like me, they will find an excuse to add that third scene." She paused, looking at me. "I hope you don't disapprove."
I stared at her. "First off, my opinion doesn't matter. You know that. Second, I'm a fan of boobies on screen," I added. I reflected briefly on how much a couple of pairs of really nice boobs, almost as nice as Britney's, and a stray naked dong on screen in a horror movie had contributed mightily to how awesome my entire life had become.
Regardless, Britney was not asking my permission, only respecting my opinion.
"Are
you
okay with it?" I asked. That was my only problem.
She took a deep breath and shrugged her uniform off her shoulders and to the floor as she resumed talking, now regaining her animation. "It's a big step," she admitted. "But honestly, I had already pretty much decided I was okay doing it before I even went to the first audition. My agent told me from the start that the show is going to be drenched in skin for everybody in it, even the male lead. I can't tell you who he is, but I can tell you his ass is out for all to see in Every. Single. Episode!" She giggled. "And I can also tell you that he is nowhere near as hot as he looks on the screen."
She grinned widely. "But he is still plenty hot enough for me to summon some pretty good chemistry with him."
I was ecstatic for her, but my mind was nevertheless drawn to the sight of her boobs in front of me, floating there, perfectly formed in a shape that seemed utterly natural... assuming they were in lunar gravity. Her nipples were sure as fuck enthusiastic about being shown off to millions worldwide.
Or maybe they just wanted to be sucked on by one, apartment-wide. If that was the case, I should not disappoint them. "Go on," I invited, but spoiled the appearance of interest by cupping her tits and bending to suckle an adorable nipple.
"Not much more to tell," she breathed excitedly. Again, what all she was excited about was unclear, but I had to be some of it. "The pay is better than scale, a lot better if they pick up that third scene. And if the series gets renewed for a second season, my salary gets big," she breathed, running her fingers hungrily through my hair as she spoke.
Her hands pulled my face even harder against her breast as she went on. "The story is really good, Alistaire. And Teddy and his production company have produced some major shows already for both Netflix and Amazon. This thing could be a hit. A big one. If it is, I'm going to be a genuine star!"
"Nobody deserves it more," I said, lifting my head and kissing her lips. I could already smell her arousal, and I tucked my fingers into the waistband of the extremely modest undies she always carefully wore under her short uniform skirt.
But she slapped my fingers away. "In a minute, eager beaver! Sit," she ordered, pointing at my lone easy chair. "I really need a celebratory protein snack from you," she giggled.
Britney really did enjoy sucking cock...