You know what awkward and inaccurate history leads to?
Makeouts. So you should avoid bad history at every opportunity.
Anita sits in her hotel room and decides that she is the one who cannot be trusted. Well, yes, but… no. There are no endings to that sentence. Ignore me.
I touched the gun in my robe pocket. It was smooth and hard and reassuring, but it wouldn’t help me now. Violence I understood; sex gave me more problems.
There is something VERY wrong with you.
And sex giving you problems? Are you unable to read back what you thought about guns?
Anita complains about how she doesn’t want to sleep with JC but wants to see him naked some more. JC comes out the bathroom and goes right up to plonk a kiss on her lips. A pulse moves around in his neck and Anita wishes to touch it. She breaks away and licks all the way down his neck. She seems to enjoy this immensely, so she alls to her knees to lick his nipples.
I licked water off his chest, and let myself do something I’d wanted to do for months. I ran my tongue over his nipple, and he shuddered against me.
Not only do I dislike the mention of YET MORE NIPPLES but she just licked bath water off him. MMMM soapy. Bloody. Dirt. Old skin. Nice.
I licked water off the centre of his chest and ran my hands along his waist up the damp curve of his back.
There are few thing more erotic than licking bath water off your lover.
They indulge in a little mutual stroking, buttock squeezing, ignoring the annoying swing of the gun as it tries to vainly get them both to involve themselves in the plot.
He ate at my mouth and I felt something sharp, painful. I jerked back and tasted blood.
I touched my mouth and came away with a spot of blood. “You nicked me.”
He nodded. “I am truly sorry.”
“I’ll just bet you are,” I said.
Don’t get self-righteous now, Anita. You could have said ‘i do not wish to kiss you, man with teeth full of sharp fangs that have already pierced my skin tonight. Could you call an ambulance for the massive gushing wound on my arm where I slit my wrist?’.
Sigh. I wish you guys watched Being Human. The vampires on Being Human have fangs that work realistically – they’re canines that were designed to rip into skin and flesh, not create pathetic dainty holes. I’d like to see Anita kiss a BH vamp with fang on and get out of it with just a little cut. You only see one human fed on by BH vampires live afterwards, because biting into arteries and veins with human teeth is not a very safe business.
JC is now kneeling on the floor – since when? – and Anita bemoans that she has now cheated on Richard. She asks that JC dress immediately.
I touched my finger to my tongue. It was still bleeding. That’s what I got for French kissing a vampire.
No, that’s what happens when a vampire thinks French kissing involves chowing on someone’s tongue.
JC asks for a hair dryer, as this is the only luxury hotel in the world that appears to not provide hair dryers. JC takes it and goes back into the bathroom. Anita thinks whether he is naked in there while drying his hair. This makes me think that he is actually trying his pubes and I dry heave.
When he finishes, they lay down on the bed together to talk. JC announces that he loves her, again, and then lets her watch him fall dead as the sun rises.
I knelt beside the bed and stared. I knew dead when I saw it, and this was it.
You don’t. We all know about how Anita can’t tell if things are dead or not.
I checked his wrist, and there was no pulse. No blood moved in his body.
Unlike your wrist. i am not letting this go until it is addressed.
But I knew death when I saw it. It gave necrophilia a whole new slant.
No, it doesn’t. Necrophilia is a desire to have sex with a dead body. JC, despite walking and talking and being a twat, is a dead body. It is still necrophilia, no matter how much you dress it up.
There’s a knock at the door. WHO MIGHT IT BE?
I don’t care.