1 comments/ 21823 views/ 4 favorites Silver Lake Angel By: Odeon Cuthbert's restaurant hid on a tiny street near the Riviera county club, where the entire block thrived under a canopy of red maple leaves succumbing to the early fall. A wind picked up that evening, but the leaves still had enough guts to hold on and stain the evening light a brilliant crimson, inviting Kim to breathe deeply and flow lightly up the path to the restaurant, with her arms appearing to drag behind in the wind. Prospects of an early fall had initially depressed her, since she wouldn't be returning to U.C. Davis in San Diego as planned. With two years still to go on a journalism degree, she found herself unable to cover the living expenses and having to take a year off to stay with her dad and work. In a way it felt like her life went on hold, and she'd never been a very patient person. Then she met Avery that Spring and quickly fell in love that Summer. In fact, as of two weeks ago they'd been living together in his new Silver Lake condo. It was a beautiful two story unit, and it all seemed so spontaneous and perfect. The condo offered only two slots for parking, and to make a spot for her Chevy Caprice, Avery unloaded his Scion TC for six-grand over Craig's list earlier that week, and that meant celebrating with a pricey dinner at Cuthbert's followed by drinks at Valentine's. He always had money and gestured to pay, but Kim was a real stickler about splitting expenses. Thankfully, the easy six-grand made a great excuse for her to say fuck-all to her principals and let her boyfriend pamper her for once, and as shallow as it sounds, their extravagant evening helped her forget all about San Diego and her college degree. She'd slipped on a tight grey dress for the occasion, which ended above the knees and clung to every move she made. If anyone paid attention, and they had, the lack of panties or a bra was clearly evident in the occasional jiggle of her modest chest, and the way the material flowed flawlessly along the natural curve of her lower back and out and over her derriere. On a fuller figure it might have been too much, but on her it seemed a stylish choice. Catching her passing profile in the large front window of Cuthbert's, she had to admit her wonderful tight ass was the bomb. The grey fabric had the characteristic of lightening towards a copper when stretched, accentuating its volume all the more. Where her boobs blossomed in the front, the same grey fabric expanded just enough for the color to appear burnished away, especially where her tiny nipples softly poked through. The grey of it also made her white skin appear more colorful––even a little pink in her face––and that ignited her steel-blue eyes. When they stepped through the Victorian doors of Cuthbert's, she was stunned, horrified, and a little amused. Avery hadn't just taken her out for an expensive meal––he'd taken her to the expensive meal. They were the youngest by at least ten years, and the male attire ranged from suit and tie to suit and tie, while the ladies were draped in simple designer statements that looked pricey to say the least. As she scrutinized the room she could hear the stiff conservative babble and thought she'd just discovered where millionaires celebrate their anniversaries. And if Kim's sexy little number wasn't embarrassingly out of place at Cuthbert's, Avery's loud-ass attire was. He'd worn a red, Asian-patterned, silk smoking jacket with a black lining. Under it, his trade mark county style shirt and bolo tie. His plain black slacks were fine, but peeking out of the bottom were Ali Boulala, leopard-print, skater shoes, and they really were a scream. It was a fabulously fun and tacky get up, yet inside Cuthbert's it just seemed tacky. But she'd come to expect this kind of thing from Avery, and loved it, so she grabbed her crazy man's arm with pride, and followed the hostess to their seats. Avery typically knew her as a tee-shirt and jeans girl, and after sitting down to eat, she felt his eyes travel her knockout figure through every course of the meal, as well as the those of their beef-cake blonde waiter. Avery had made it clear the dress was his favorite, and just for him she'd used a tad bit of eyeliner and shadow, and a dusty rose lipstick, something she hadn't repeated since their first few dates eight months ago. And her loose, caramel, suede boots––dear god, she'd hadn't worn those in over three years! She slowly became aware that all the stuffy men in the room must have had a pulse, because she was getting stares, and they weren't appalled stairs, they were the meet-me-later kind. She'd grown a little self conscious by the time food arrived, and couldn't take more than a few bites of her Portabella Linguine, despite the fact that it tasted and smelled of heaven. By the end of dinner, and after drinking half bottle of wine, however, she'd grown comfortable being the sultry center of attention––in fact, it became a bit of a turn on, and she wondered why she'd deprived herself of looking so good when it left her feeling so warm and alive inside. After dessert, Avery started to say something, but his mouth froze on the first syllable, and bent into an 'oops' of a smile. "What?" "Nothing." "Oh no you don't." "It really isn't anything." "Bullcrap! It's always the things you wanna say but don't that truly mean the most." "What was that?" Then, with a slight country twang in his voice, "Mama always said, 'It's those things you wanna say but don't that truly mean the most." He'd always do that––pick on her for sounding like a mother giving advice to a twelve year old. Admittedly she had a bad habit of doing it, but only because she hadn't heard from her mother in thirteen years, not since Kim was nine, not since a drunk driver took her from Kim, and she adored what little of her mother's sagely advice she could still recall. "Ha ha, funny guy, but now you'd better come clean! What's on your mind?" "Yeah... Well OK then––who in the room would you do?" Oh god, he wasn't going to play that game on their classy night out, was he? Now she was sorry she'd pressed him. "I can't believe you." "Come on, we're around money, one of these guys could pamper you for the rest of your life, so who would be the lucky guy?" "Unbelievable. I haven't even forgiven you for the pictures, and now you are going to ruin our evening with games?" "Not the pictures again! When did you turn so uptight, anyway?" He still didn't understand why she was mad about that, and she was growing convinced he never would. It happened the day after she'd moved into his condo. She opened his laptop to check her email, and after launching the minimized browser she got the shock of a lifetime as the window revealed a page of full-on hardcore porn. Nothing outrageous, just a young girl getting thoroughly worked over by two guys, but the shocking part––the girl in the image could've easily been mistaken for Kim! She called to Avery, who'd obviously closed the computer in panic and left the room when he heard her coming. He waltzed back in as if nothing was wrong, then looked at the laptop in front of her and slapped his hands to his cheek, poorly acting surprised. "Wow, Kim, you checkin' out some porn? Let me get in on some of that." He then pulled up a chair and dropped down beside her. She gave him the evil-eye for as long as she could, and then they both burst out laughing at the awkwardness the situation. Which was what exactly? Was he fantasizing about her in a porno? That night she tried to engage him in conversation about it, but every time she'd start, he'd repeat her words in his 'mama always said' voice. "Mama always said, 'If a man goes looking at porn that's his own dang business.'" "Damn it Avery! My point is-" He started tickling her before she could finish. He was impossible, and she finally ran into the corner screaming. As quickly as she could, she blurted out, "What you do is your damn business, but I don't want to know about it, and if I ever catch you again, there's going to be a problem!" As they waited for the bill to be dropped off at their table, he prodded her for an answer. "Come on Little Kim, who in the room would you do?" An extremely wicked smile welled up on her smug face. If he truly wanted to spoil the night with his games, then she'd show him who was uptight. "The waiter!" "Our waiter?" "Yep!" The guy was a total tool, and she knew that would piss Avery off. "I don't buy it." "Let's just say I know his type." "Yeah, well so do I. He has frosted hair, Kim! I betchya he drinks five-thousand-grams of Mega-Mass-Multi-Muscle-Maker-Protein-Powder every day. I betchya he shaves his pecks! He isn't even close to your type." "I didn't say he was my type. I said I know his type." "And you'd do his type?" "Did you get a look at the size of his hands? I dated a cute Romanian guy like him my freshmen year, and I can still feel the o-la-la he gave me." She closed her eyes and dreamed for a moment, then slowly and cruelly stated, "His dick was soooo god damned big." She allowed a serene sexed up expression to flow across her face. Then to accentuate her point, she circled her hips gently in the chair. "And the things he could do with it, my god!" Her eyes then opened to find the beefy hand of the blonde waiter setting the bill in front of Avery. Crap! Her pale cheeks burned red and she bit her tongue in order to painfully manage a polite smile. She sooo much hoped their waiter hadn't heard that, but given how Avery laughed, there wasn't a chance he'd missed it. Their waiter dropped the leather wallet containing the bill, and apologized for interrupting as he poured the last of their wine. He then looked at Kim as if every dirty little secret she kept was penned across her face. "Now I'll let you get back to where you were, ma'am." As soon as he left, Kim shot Avery a real nasty evil-eye. "You skeezy shit-head!" On their way out of Cuthbert's, Avery asked her if she would like to know who he'd choose, and then softly danced towards the hostess's station before she could answer. The hostess happened to be a young pretty Brunet in a nice black coat with an empire waist, a style that granted a woman of any age that little girl appeal, and made this already young missy seem an off-limits fifteen. He began to ask how one might get a hold of the recipe for their risotto, but she claimed they never hand that out. He continued to persuasively flirt until Kim realized the girl was completely charmed by him. She'd forgotten how smooth he became when he really turned it on, and the way he spoke and moved for the hostess took her back to the day Avery had won her over. At the time, she'd just returned to LA to live with her dad and take a job in the records office of UCLA, a fulltime version of the job she performed while going to U.C. Davis in San Diego. Avery came in to ask her about his records and to say her Dark Funeral tee-shirt was wicked. It quickly became clear he was schmoozing her to fudge in some non-transferable credits and prevent having to complete bullshit-credits courses. As harmless as it sounded, doing it could cost her a job, and so she told him no way. But he kept at it, "If you do, I might let you come back to my place and browse my records department. No Dark Funeral, but I have some vinyl I know you'll freak over." "Really? Let me just call up your record and have look-see, then." Kim had always been cold and shitty to the spoiled brats who thought college was a birth right, especially after working so hard to pay her own tuition. Avery was different, though, he wore a leather jacket with a Porsche patch on the front, but the rest of his attire consisted of an un-tucked country-style shirt that could have only come from a second hand store, brown Dickies pants, and worn out converse shoes. These clothes mocked the jacket. Most of the students downplayed their clothing, but his appearance was like a big 'fuck you' to rich boys in sports cars. And he'd walked in there with such a cocky unorthodox way of doing things, and did it with a head of gorgeous black hair, that she simply found him too damn handsome and fun to hate. She couldn't believe she was actually considering risking her job to do this rich boy a favor, but it also gave her a perfect opportunity to play with him, and that she couldn't resist. After entering in his name, she exclaimed, "Twenty-six and your still in college?" She read a bit more, "Film? Isn't that like the most expensive major ever? Surely daddy can just buy you a few more credits, can't he?" He needed those credits, so he took it on the chin and laughed it off. And then, even more unbelievable than risking her job over this guy, she said yes to his invitation to lunch. That was seven months ago, and they'd been partners in crime ever since. Avery had certainly charmed Kim into fudging his record, and that same charm was yielding results from the hostess. The young girl finally left for the kitchen and returned with a folded piece of paper. The way she looked at Avery while placing it in his palm made it seem as though she'd offered her phone number instead of a recipe. As he escorted Kim out the front door, he asked, "Still want to go for drinks at Valentines?" "Oh you bet you're sweet ass, funny guy. You should know better than to push your luck when my shit looks this gud!" She threw her ass into his hip and he had to side step to keep from falling. He recovered, got the door for her and, acting as if her bottom posed a serious threat, gave her plenty of space to pass through. He laughed the entire cab ride over to Valentine's, but she crossed her arms and legs and shook her head. "So," he began, suppressing his giggles, "whaddya think about cooking me up some risotto tomorrow night?" She snorted laughter and then hit him in the arm, warning him he was sooo in for it. "I can't believe you're jealous! You're only twenty-two, smart, the most beautiful girl in LA, and you have me. Did you really think I was going to grab some ground beef when I already have a perfect rib-eye in the bag?" "A rib-eye? I'm a rib-eye in the bag? Well too bad rib-eye doesn't go very well with risotto. You know, you should have stopped at the most beautiful girl in LA, I'd actually considered forgiving you." "OK, you're not a rib-eye––you're my little metal-head chickie-chick!" He pinched her nose and she gave in laughing again. He could always get her. He would always wear her down in the end. And if it wasn't some magic thing that he said, then it was just the beauty of his face––his translucent blue eyes, not a cloud between her and his soul, hollow angular cheeks, like someone they'd cast as an enemy spy, his thick rich hair, which she loved to fondle and smell and style, and of course his maddening smile that beamed out of his light five-o-clock shadow. She both hated and loved him for being so utterly charming. He'd hijacked her world, and she hadn't been prepared to fall for Mr. Right so soon. Damn, damn, damn Avery for being so charming! Valentines was on busy Sunset Blvd in Hollywood, where bright lights hit from almost every direction and giant billboards loomed overhead. It still had a great vibe, just in a glitzy, sleazy, rock-star kind of way. They exited the cab directly in front of the bar, and just as it began to pull away, she shouted, "My purse!" Avery bolted after the car, sprinting into the street and coming up alongside the driver's side window, playing it super serious like some action star trying to retrieve a time-bomb. The guy finally stopped half a block away, and Avery recovered her purse from the back seat. Afterwards, he sauntered back completely composed as if the incident never occurred, black slacks gliding over his Ali Boulala, leopard-print, skater shoes and her grey leather bag slung over a shoulder like it belonged to him. She was laughing hysterically––he was such a madman. He returned to her side, and when she reached a hand out for her purse, he said in a feminine voice, "Uh-uh, girl, it's my purse now." He pressed it against his red, satin, smoking jacket, right at his stomach. "See, I match." As she conceded to let Avery carry her purse, she also became aware of a guy walking around from the parking lot, and who now made a point of quickly getting ahead of them and opening the door for her. He was a tall blonde, maybe six-two, with a cleft chin and wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket. As she walked past he stared her down with the most intense green eyes, and if he wasn't so utterly handsome she might have been pretty creeped out. He let Avery in too, and after Avery stepped inside he turned to the guy and opened Kim's purse. "Now let me see, I think I have some change in here." Kim snatched her purse from him and apologized to the guy, and thankfully he appeared to have a sense of humor about it. Gawd, Avery could be sooo horrible! The tall blonde followed them in and took a seat at the bar, pulling off his jacket to reveal a toned lean body, with a back strong enough to shape his thin tee-shirt. As Avery walked her to a booth, she marveled at the guy, still impressed by the way he'd made such a big deal of getting the door for her. "That was unexpected. Maybe we should dress up a little more often." "It's all you, babe. I tell ya how much I love that dress. Gurl, seeing you look this hot is worth a three-hundred-dollar dinner any night." She hadn't pulled her eyes from the tall blonde, so Avery put his hand in front of her face. "Mama always said, 'It ain't polite to stare at people just because they look different than ourselves.'" "Different is right," she hummed. "Muscles and manners!" "Hey, who ran faster than a speeding bullet to get your purse?" "Well, well, funny guy, don't tell me you're finally jealous?" "Not of Mr. tee-shirt and jeans over there." Valentine's was an old bar, the walls were covered in pictures of stars from the forties and fifties, most were signed headshots, but several were taken from inside the bar in its heyday. When they reached a booth, there, below a framed picture of Ingrid Bergman smoking a slender cigarette and sipping from a half full tumbler, was Tony, and her hope for a romantic follow up to dinner shattered into little fragments of stupid girl dreams, which she'd gather up, stuff into the barrel of a pistol, and shoot through her head. Tony's hair lacked a single direction, his mutton-chop sideburns stood straight out like Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, and he wore a lettered green tee-shirt, reading, 'VIRGINS PLEASE PROCEED TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE'. He had a pint of pitch black beer and grew real happy when he saw them. "Man, you guys took forever. I've already down one of these." He held up the big pint, and being only an inch taller than Kim, about five-six, the pint looked huge in his hand. "Look at you two all dressed up. Wow, Kim. I mean, wow! You are like, I don't know, coming off the pages of a magazine!" Avery reached over to him and the guys slammed fists like the two best friends they were, and then Tony congratulated Avery on selling his car. "Hey, so you tell me to come out and beers are gonna be on you, and so far I've had to shell out for two five-dollar pints. What's up with these trendy prices?" Tony had good features and wasn't truly a bad guy––just no immediate charm. It also seemed as if he'd had it in for her, being the one who pointed out to Avery the resemblance between the porn star and his girlfriend, and that was grounds for a serious whooping as far as she was concerned. Avery asked what she'd be drinking and she said she'd decide at the bar, then set her purse down at the booth and followed him. On the way she leaned into his ear. "How could you invite him along tonight?" Silver Lake Angel He made an ugly show of visibly clenching his teeth, and quickly explained how Tony called earlier and had been dumped, which left him totally depressed. "Let's just have a couple of drinks, try to cheer him up, and then we can make an excuse to go somewhere else, OK?" Great! Once again he'd put Tony before her. And given the circumstances, what could she have said about it without coming off as a complete bitch? Avery had really been hit-and-miss all evening. He leaned over the mahogany wood bar and asked if she wanted a martini. "No way," she said, squeezing in beside him. She was already feeling the wine from dinner, and pointed to a Truchard Vineyards cabernet on the shelf against the mirrored wall. As Avery talked with bartender, who slowly poured a headless Guinness, the guy on the next stool turned to face her. It happened to be the familiar face of the man who'd held the door for her. His legs were spread slightly and his eyes wouldn't let up. It became uncomfortably clear he wanted her, and she sensed something very animal about him, which made her grateful to have Avery beside her. Finally deciding it would ease the situation if she spoke, she smiled and broke the silence with a chipper, "Hi!" But he only continued to stare at her like he knew her, or at least acknowledged her as a hot piece of ass. He finally waved a hello instead of speaking, and that only elevated the tension. She slid one of her suede boots backwards, but Avery was there and her ass bumped into his, the mere touch of their bodies making her feel safe again, and she looped an arm around his waist and he mindlessly hung one around her shoulder. The guy had a friendly face––he just exuded sex, but now that she was safely in Avery's arm, she could admit it was a little exciting to be in his presence. Add to it the vulnerable condition of being panty-less under a tight skirt, and she was met with a surprising lurid thrill. Panty-less and sandwiched by men––one pure animal and one pure love. The guy held up his drink––a martini. "Should've gone with one of these!" His voice had a kindness to it she didn't expect, and it gave her enough courage to respond. "Well, if I was a whopping two-hundred-pounds I could probably handle that right now, but I've had an early start at dinner." She instantly realized how flirty and awful that sounded, but it was too late. "One-eighty-five," he corrected. "Oh! Sorry." "Don't be." The drinks were ready and she headed back to the booth with Avery. Tony had put away most of his pint in their absence and had a sleepy gloomy look on his face. She didn't waste anytime and inquired as to what the hell happened with his girlfriend Sue. "I don't know, you know, Sue seemed nice, seemed like things were great, then she springs on me there's someone else. But didn't you guys think she was nice?" "Of course, man!" "Kim?" "Not anymore." "You're right. Fuck, the first decent girl in years and I end up getting told she's leaving for a fucking Porto Rican club manager. I'm tired of settling for pigs. It's just, I don't know how much lower my expectations can get, you know. And Avery's always throwing away these hot, crazy, wild chicks I'd give my left nut to keep around. Well not you, Kim––I mean you're totally hot––and I mean you're a total keeper––you're just not the type Avery's always kept in his stable. Fuck, you know what I mean. Or when I do meet someone I totally click with, like Jenny Swanson, Avery ends up banging her." She knew he would to bring that up. For a guy who demonstrated little guilt with her, Avery was a total sucker for what he'd done to Tony clear back in high school, and boy could Tony milk it. "Wasn't this Jenny Swanson completely in love with Avery, though?" "Well, that's what Avery's always said. I never really had a chance to ask after she spit in my face for calling her a splayed leg skank." "Didn't she tattoo your name on her arm, Avery?" "Yeah, with pen ink and a thumb tack." "I don't know, Tony, sounds like she might have been a little in love with him." "Doesn't really matter. I mean we were perfect for each other, even better than Sue and I, but it doesn't matter." Avery held up his fist. "I was wrong for getting with her. I feel like dirt for that, man. Always have! And you know my offer still stands." A little wine dribbled down Kim's chin when she heard that, while Tony bumped fists with Avery and halfway smiled. She wiped her chin and sent Avery the most evil vibe she could conjure, since his offer to Tony was an open invitation to bang his girlfriend should an opportunity arise. Of course they'd made this arrangement before Kim was ever in the picture, but still... Tony snapped out his hands towards Kim, and completely smiling said, "Maybe if you'd stop dating super models I'd actually have a shot." The guys laughed, and she tried to find some flattery in it somewhere, but just couldn't. Suddenly, they were all caught off guard as a figure appeared at the end of their booth. Kim turned to face a large pewter belt buckle reading S-M-O-K-E. It was the blonde with the cleft chin, and he held two martinis, sipping from one and offering her the second slender-stemmed glass, carefully balancing the clear liquid inside the shallow cup atop. She accepted, saying, "Why thank you!" Avery and Tony were starring at the guy in disbelief. "But you know I'll never be able to finish this." He turned to Avery for a moment and pointed his thumb to the bar. "Karl's pouring two Guinness right now. I heard your order at the bar earlier." "Hey man, thanks. What's the occasion?" "You tell me," he inquired. "You two are the ones looking like you've had an evening." "He sold his car," Tony blurted out, and having the news come from Tony made it sound like they were Meth addicts cashing in their lives for cheap drugs and alcohol, effectively killing any further notions of class. "We're not that dressed up." "It's more than the clothes." He pointed to the picture of Ingrid Bergman hanging at the end of their booth. "You two brought in some class, and it's been awhile since this place has seen any. Just thought I'd show my appreciation." This guy was barely thirty, way too young to be living in the past, and given that he wore only jeans, a tee-shirt, and black boots, she hardly felt he was an authority on class, but nevertheless, she wasn't going to let any of that ruin the thrill of being told such a thing. "Well I'm Avery, that's Tony, and this is my girlfriend Kim." Ha, Avery actually felt the need to mention she was his girlfriend. He did have his limits. "Well I'm Ray." "Howdy Ray!" Then Ray did a curious thing, he tilted his head and looked at Kim with one suspicious eye, until he finally pointed to her and said, "Does the name Christina Sabbath mean anything?" Tony burst out laughing, and Avery, after unsuccessfully trying to hold it back, joined him. "No," she said, letting it trail off as she glared towards Avery and Tony and shook her head at them for being such assholes. Ray quickly recognized he'd caused a problem. "Whoops. I kinda counted on everybody being clueless if I'd made a mistake." Avery leaned into Kim. "Christina Sabbath is the porn star who looks just like you." She suddenly felt sick, because this hot guy who'd been so taken with her all night had actually believed she could be a porn star. "Sorry, but I don't actually look like her." The guys were busy laughing again, and Ray gestured if he could take a seat opposite her, next to Tony. She half heartedly shook her head and he sat. "I didn't mean any disrespect, Kim." It was the first time he'd said her name, and his voice gave it a quality she'd never heard before––a stab followed by a hum. He'd even turned her name into sex. She drank from the martini, pushing her wine aside. It was cool and wicked on the throat, and a quarter of it was gone with one sip. "I am sorry. But forget that she makes adult films––she's still one of the prettiest ladies around, period. I couldn't have paid you a higher compliment mistaking the two of you. I mean it." He followed the compliment with a really great smile and she eased up a bit, which was good, because if things had continued to go the way they were she might've cried. She took another long sip of her martini, which also helped to heal the wounds. Ray scratched his head and hesitated for a moment. "I'll tell you something more––she was the one whose beauty I-Sly couldn't resist. She set off his whole scandal." Tony overheard, and cried out, "Bullshit, I'd have remembered that. Gimmie your iPhone Avery!" Avery handed it over and Tony started fumbling with it. Within minutes he'd found something. "Holy shit, it is her!" "I-Sly's a big celebrity," Ray said across to her. "You've heard about it, right?" She jiggled her head yes as she took another good size sip. Avery and Tony were both huddled to the iPhone, looking at the pictures. She couldn't believe this was happening, again! "Oh man," Tony laughed, "So I-Sly let's them film on his estate where he keeps all his cars, and like in the movie plot she's washing them for charity, but then two chauffeurs start hanging around checking her out and end pulling a train. I-Sly's watching all this off camera, and at some point he says he just couldn't take it and had to get some of that." Then in Tony's very horrible rapper impersonation, "I'm gowna make me a big controbution to cherty." Avery held up the iPhone for her. "Wanna see what you'd look like doing a famous rap star?" On the little screen glowed a close-up of Christina Sabbath with her mouth stuffed and a slobbery chin. I-Sly was one rapper she hated––'Blah, blah, bitches-and-hos, blah, blah, bitches-and-hos!'––so Avery's comment really hit a nerve. She looked away and finished her martini, then set the sleek empty glass down and pushed it towards Avery. He understood, and she let him out of the booth to get her another while fetching the two Guinness still waiting for him at the bar. When she sat down again, Ray grabbed her hand. "When I'm tense, this works." He pressed both of his large thumbs into her palm. She began to pull away, but hesitated when she felt the hard round tips grind into her meat, which forced her shoulders to drop and her spine to go limp. Tony still had Avery's iPhone and stared wide-eyed at the little screen. He'd found another group of pictures featuring the same girl and occasionally felt the need to describe the images before him. "Man, I don't care what they're paying her––she's earning every single penny." So Kim let Ray massage her hand during their semi private moment, and he continued working wonders. His arms were lean and strong, the muscles rolling like snakes as his thumbs mashed her hand like a small lump of clay. Her eyes closed, she couldn't help it, and her head fell against the laminated seat cushion. Fuck Avery and Tony! Why was she even letting them get to her? The whole thing reminder her of being eleven and coming home to find her two brothers and their friend watching a porno movie in the living room. The curtains were drawn, allowing the TV to illuminate the whole area, and beer bottles were all over the coffee table, so the bottom of the screen was obscured by their tops. Albee was four years older than her and Josh was five, and although she typically felt herself incredibly mature to be caring for a house full of men, she'd become a complete child in this situation. When she tried to say something, Josh snapped. "This is the birds and bees, Kim. If mom were still alive she'd explain." The big TV had a lady getting her hair pulled by a guy who was shoving his penis into her so hard she screamed. Then another penis was pushed into her mouth and choked her so she couldn't scream anymore. "I know about the birds and the bees, but why are they hurting her?" "Because she wants it." Albee and their friend laughed. "No she doesn't." "It's all about the birds and the bees, Kim! You'll understand someday. And it's what men like, so get used to it quick if you ever want to find one, twerp." Twerp was the one name she hated the most. They'd called her every derogatory, sexist name they could think of, but twerp struck a nerve. It made it clear she was the youngest, something she couldn't compensate for, and the youngest always gets bullied around. Being a girl just added to the thrill of it. That day haunted her for weeks. She hated her brothers––all boys, and she obsessively cut the hair from the heads of her old dolls. Then one night, as she lay in bed, the sights of the porno replaying on her dark ceiling, her hand moved into her panties, and she touched herself. Her steel-blue eyes instantly tore around the room when Ray's thumbs dislodged from her palm. Avery carried over two martinis and set them down, then went back for the Guinness. My god, this was getting out of control! Across the table Ray peered right through her, the only one aware that she was starting to smolder inside. She'd been wrong, he wasn't a sexual animal––he was a maestro of sex––a fucking Hollywood Don Juan! He didn't prey upon her desire, he filled her with it. "Guys, I mean come on. Look at this!" Tony scratched his mutton-chops along his cheek, and held up the iPhone with yet another picture of Christina Sabbath in action. "She looks just like Kim! I mean exactly like Kim!" Avery returned with the last of the order, balancing two shots of tequila in between the pints. Kim got up to let him slide back in. "What I'd miss?" "Nothing. Tony's little wee-wee is still getting off on a girl who he thinks is me." "Just look at her." "You sick little Italian! I'm a blonde. She has dark hair." "She's dyed it, come on!" Avery sat down. "Well, does the carpet matches the drapes?" "No carpet! She has a tattoo on her ass, though––a carrousel horse. What about it, Kim? Got a tattoo?" "If I say 'no' are you going to believe me?" "Avery, does she have a tattoo or what?" "Will you even believe me at this point?" "Then give us a peek, Kim!" "Are you even for real, Tony?" Avery grabbed her hand and tilted his head towards her in defeat, with a subtle expression that she took to mean she should just get it over with and shut Tony's silly ass up. She returned a look that read, 'Really?' He kissed her cheek and touched her thigh. "Then fine!" Avery was always in for the daring, and for the first time since they'd arrived, she felt they were aligned on something. And the idea of showing her ass to this Ray character just seemed so out there. She brought her knees up on the padded bench seat to kneel, putting her butt just above the table. It left her facing the open bar, and when no one was looking, she placed one hand over her crotch in order to keep her tight dress down, and grabbed the hem around back with the other. She then peeled the skirt up her back, exposing her panty-less flesh. The way she arched her back jutted out her ass, making it rounder, and fuller, and so very powerful. And nowhere was there a tattoo, just clean, smooth, white, skin. She noticed Ray, whose eyes were fixed on her treasures. He smiled towards one side of his face in a way that tilted the cleft in his chin. She didn't just feel naked, she felt spread wide open. "Fucking awesome, Kim!" Tony shouted, loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear, and Kim brought her dress down in panic. "Satisfied!" She plopped her butt on the seat again, feeling oddly proud and seriously turned on. "Yeah, well it could be one of those temporary tattoos." He was just being funny now. Avery then whispered into her ear, saying she was too fucking hot. From across the table, and without using words, Ray told her the very same thing, and she wished she could do it all over again. "You could have mentioned temporary tattoos before I showed you my ass." "What? Am I stupid? That just made my night!" She took a big sip from her fresh martini, and when she set it down, Ray pushed it away. "Maybe another one of these is a bad idea." His boldness took her breath away. Even Avery had noticed. And she probably would've been pissed about it, except he was right––the first one had just now started to hit her. An unsettled silence followed as she let it go and Tony went back to browsing images on the iPhone. "Let's see if we can't figure out how to prove this Christina Sabbath thing once and for all." Ray then spoke up, "Hey Tony, look up Ray Smoke on that thing." A minute later Tony hit pay dirt, and shouted, "No fucking way, dude! You're a porn star!" Everyone appeared shocked, especially Kim. "Holy crap, dude, you're like twelve inches!" Tony held up the iPhone, and there was Ray, a huge dick weighing on the hands of a pigtailed brunette. "Eleven and a quarter!" "Christ man!" Avery shook his head in disbelief. "Where are you hiding that?" "Ha! Well, Kim showed us hers so I thought I might as well show you mine." The sight of it left Kim's cheeks a scarlet red and suddenly ashamed of playing into his hands. Seeing all the images of Christina Sabbath with overly endowed lovers, and then having unintentionally toyed with a real tool of the trade, well that would surely blur her own persona with Christina's in a way Avery and Tony would never let go. Her stomach sank as something lewd crept through her like a parasite. She suddenly got a head rush, putting her hands on the table and closing her eyes. Maybe it was time Avery took her home. As the blood rushed past her ears she barely made out Tony's voice. "Dude, I'm sitting next to guy and looking at pictures of his cock––how wrong is that?" This time Ray laughed the hardest. "Wait, here's your bio, dude. 'A Los Angeles native born in1978, Ray Smoke has become one of the more sought after male stars in recent years. Shooting less than four films a year has earned him only ten films to his credit, but they are all ranked high in Hustlers top fifty, with 'Schindler's Tryst' coming in at number two. Avoiding the raunchier side of the industry, his films lean more towards the erotic than hardcore, and he appears to consistently invoke genuine performances from his costars. In an online interview, Sasha Grey said that Ray Smoke was the performer she'd most like to work with again.' Fuck, you did Sasha Grey?" "Yep!" "Mother-fucker!" Avery nudged his hip against Kim, and she got up to let him out. She asked if he was ready to go. Without answering, and without warning, he pulled her around to the alcove leading to the restrooms, the only private area in the bar. She was still a little dizzy when he started to kiss her hard. He forced his tongue into her mouth and pushed his hand through her short blonde hair. Her tongue quickly took to the warm intruder and curled against it. The kiss brought her completely back, and when she opened her eyes, Avery's face was practically touching hers, as he held her shoulders and pressed her against the wall. Releasing one shoulder he brushed her long bangs from her right eye. "I know I've been a little bit of a jerk tonight. And I know I sometimes have trouble taking things seriously. And I am sorry if I let things get carried away. But I love you, baby, and I've never told you this, but I've never said those words to another girl." He certainly looked serious in that moment. His lip even trembled. Her boyfriend was always such a relaxed cool guy, so she loved when he grew that intense. "I love you too, sweetie." "So I know you're aware Ray's been working you all night." "I think everyone's aware of it. You could have said something––do you just not care?" Silver Lake Angel "I care––but you're not some wimpy chick. I don't think there's a man alive you couldn't handle. In fact, you shine your brightest in these situations. You're my partner in the crazy. I love that! And sometimes, like tonight, it's just so fucking cool to watch you do your thing, and it's like I'll destroy the flower if I try to touch it. Sometimes I gotta just let you shine, baby." God, if he only knew what part of her was really shining out there. His lips brushed hers, and he spoke against her mouth. "And I saw him make you feel something, baby." Or had he known? Of course, Avery could read her worst thoughts––and the scary part––he loved them. She closed her eyes. "Promise me you won't be mad." "Promise." She opened them. "There's just something about him." His hand came off her shoulder and she felt a finger under her dress, touching her. She looked into an autographed photo of Clark Gable, where she could see a reflection from the other room in its glass, and made sure no one was coming. He spoke into her ear. "He stands like a goddamn statue." With one stroke his finger slipped inside the folds, revealing how wet she'd become. "You're human, babe, I completely understand." "You don't. It's scarier than that..." Avery's finger slipped in deeper. "Uh! It's like when I look in his eyes there's nothing other than sex. Every word, every thought, every glance––all sex." She suddenly focused on Clark Gable's eyes in his photo, and realized they were identical to Ray's. Ray was a blonde Clarke Gabble with a cleft chin. "Uh!" How many women had fallen to those eyes? "Uh! God, what are you doing to me, Avery?" "Loving you!" He licked her lips. "I do understand. You know I grew up a spoiled brat. And more than anything I spoiled myself with girls. Sluts! The sluts that wore plaid skirts, spiked heels and tube tops. The kind I'd snag at clubs or raves, and then sneak into my room at three in the morning. My parents hated it, and that was the best part." The finger dipped in and out and in and out. Avery's touch had always been different. It felt beautiful, pure and special. It could rearrange her darkest desires into innocent games. Her mind became a blur and her knees grew weak. "I thought I'd out grow those nasty girls, but even after I stopped giving a shit what my parent's thought, I still had the need. Nothing gets me hotter than the thought of a girl who'll do anything. And you're such a supreme closet freak, baby. You've done all the things the other's have, but you hide it so damn well. You're my dirtiest little secret." She was biting her lip and had to stop him or else she'd come. He backed off her completely, and her eyelids behaved as if she'd been asleep. "So quick, baby, what's the craziest thing you've ever done?" "I don't know." "Well I want you to do something tonight. Will you?" "I don't know." "I want to invite Ray back to the condo. A fucking porn star with a bat bigger than Jose Conseco, we gotta party with him." "You're being crazy, Avery." "And I want you to tell him you are Christina Sabbath." "I can't do that." "You have to. Just pretend for one night!" "You know what will happen if I do––at least tell me you know." "And let him think he's the only one who's wise to it. It'll be a trip, baby––and a freak opportunity like this ain't coming around again." "And what about Tony?" "Leave him in the dark. But if he ends up wanting to play, that's up to you. He hasn't mentioned Sue since he started looking at the iPhone. Have you noticed? He's loosened up like I haven't seen in months." "But Avery-" "Let's just say Ray's my gift to you, and whatever you decide with Tony is a favor to me in return." "This is crazy!" "This is fun! This is fucking living, baby!" Out in front of Valentine's Kim waited with Avery and Tony as they tried to hail a cab, while Ray went around back to get his bike. She held his helmet at her side, and Tony, drunk and thinking he was being quiet enough for her not to hear, leaned towards Avery's ear, and said, "I can't believe you're going to let her ride with that dude." "Well, why the fuck not? Really, why not? Like the world just goes around and around and around, Tony. Everyday it's the same merry-go-round ride. Boring, boring, boring. So if I even smell excitement––I'm on it! I sex crazy, man, and I believe everybody should have their fun." Tony laughed, or made a noise that sounded like, "Pah!" He then scoped out Kim, and said, "Come on! That? You're letting that get on a bike with a porn star? Eleven inches of porn star! Eleven and a quarter! Sasha Grey, dude––banged Sasha Grey!" "If I don't drink it up like an aphrodisiac, I'm doomed. I'll never have the balls to unleash myself, man! And neither will she! You gotta refine your primal urges, Tony, not discard them." As he stood there on the Sunset Strip in his red, satin smoking jacket and leopard print skater shoes, and as his light eyes took on the color of a red neon sign and his shady chin sparkled with it, and as he philosophized about his insane desire for them to chase their primal urges––Avery appeared larger than life, larger than the faces on the signs stacked against the sky, and larger than the wilderness of dreams that awaited them both. Kim couldn't think of a cooler man alive. When Ray pulled his bike around to reveal a moped, everyone keeled over and lost it. "Less of a cop magnet, if you know what I mean." About ten minutes into their ride, Kim waved Ray to the side of the road. They'd just turned off Sunset Blvd. and were heading down Eiffel Street towards Avery's condo in Silver Lake, so he veered the buzzing Moped towards an open spot in front of a Mission Style house, put his boot to the asphalt and cut the engine. He turned his head around until Kim could see his profile, and she pulled his helmet from her head. "I wanted to talk to you before we reached our condo. I've decided there's something you should know." "Yeah?" She reached around and slid her hand along his thigh. "We have something in common." "Yeah?" Her hand moved close to the bulge along his inner thigh. He looked down at her hand very near to his breeder bar. "We don't have that in common, do we?" "No!" She laughed, sounding more cute an easy than she intended to. "But it plays an important part." She wouldn't touch the toy, but she squeezed the thigh meat right next to it. "So what is it then?" "I'm Christina Sabbath!" He turned his head completely around to face her, sporting a puppy dog grin. "Seriously?" "Seriously!" "Why the secret? Avery wouldn't understand? Is he why you quit the business?" That was the most she'd heard him say all night, and he sounded star-struck. Then euphoric warmth enveloped her, as she grasped how powerful a simple name could be, especially one so soaked with sexual potency––and she now owned it. "Avery doesn't know. But I quit before he came along." "Then why?" "I don't know. I was afraid people would recognize me on the street." "Or in a bar?" "Ha! Yeah––or in a bar." His hips moved as if there was a discomfort and she realized his cock was stiffening in his jeans without any place to go. She pulled her hand away and apologized. He just laughed. "This is why people don't do it on Mopeds." "Then let's get going." "OK, but what happens next?" "We'll find out soon enough, won't we?" She put on his helmet as he pedal-stared the engine, and then the buzzing bike zipped down the road. Avery's condo sat at the peak of a crescent hilltop, with tiled roofs running down all sides and then back up the neighboring hills. Palm trees filled in the gaps between roofs, and in several places glowed blue, illuminated by swimming pools hiding underneath. Avery's was one of four adjoined condos with backyards full of Joshua trees and licorice plants. The winds had died, but they'd left a view of the stars and a sweet smell from the riled licorice. A raised Jacuzzi sat in the middle of the yard, and most of the neighboring hill could be seen through a short, iron-post fence along the back. The Jacuzzi was on the fritz and took hours to heat up, so Avery left it on while they'd had dinner. The controls were mounted on the wall next to the back door, and Avery flipped the lights off so the water went black, but the jets continued to rumble the surface and throw off steam. Tony, Ray and Kim ran towards it, with Kim reaching first. Tony slowed down and stopped about halfway through the yard. "Are there any extra suits?" "Yeah right!" said Kim, as she kicked off her suede boots and peeled her tight grey dress up and over her ass, then from the top hem lifted it completely above her head. She set it on a glass table in the little nook next to the Jacuzzi. The yard was completely dark, but the moonlight seemed especially attracted to her white skin and revealed her nudity as she climbed up the wooden steps and sunk inside. It took Ray a little time to get his boots off, and then he climbed the steps and dropped his pants at the edge of the Jacuzzi, belt and all. Kim stared upwards, his meat hung impressively between his legs, exactly as the pictures on the phone had promised. It was ridiculous looking, and embarrassing to behold, but at the same time she felt playfully excited. He dipped in beside her as Tony stood at the base of the steps. "You coming, Avery?" "I'll get drinks first. Beers?" While looking at Ray, she answered, "Just water for me." Earlier, when Ray had pushed her martini aside, like he'd determined her buzz was right for his liking, it had twitched loose a little submissive thrill, which she'd hope to revisit. She'd be the perfect Christina Sabbath for him. "Water," echoed Ray. "Beer, man! And make it one of your Duvels." Tony finally got the nerve to get in and then Ray asked if they'd be up for a party favor. He reached out and grabbed a joint from the pocket of his piled up jeans, lit it up, held the smoke in tight, and waved to Kim for her to come close. Covering her tits, she lifted herself halfway up and then sat on his lap. She had to slide down before her breast returned to the dark water, and it left her head alongside his. A hand combed through her wet hair, leaving a spiky trail, and then he lifted her head, bringing her face closer to his. He pressed his lips to her mouth, and blew the smoke inside her. His breath, mixed with the harsh smoke, rushed to her chest, and apparently his lung capacity was greater than hers, and she couldn't accept it all. She rolled her head away and shifted her body, snuggling against him like a big chair. Her bare ass was on his thigh and her back was against his chest, and they felt sooo comfy. Tony took the joint as Ray passed it his way. "Avery's going to be right back, Kim." She laughed, letting the smoke go, and then coughed in rapid hiccups. It jerked her whole body, and Ray rubbed above her breasts, calming her lungs underneath. "I don't know if you noticed," said Ray, "but I'm pretty sure he's OK with this." "You think so? I don't know, man." Tony took his hit, and passed it back. The tip fired up as Ray inhaled and then he repeated his routine with Kim, and this time she accepted only half of Mr. Mighty Lung's offering. She was getting very high, and Ray's other hand moved up and down her thigh. Tony was handed the joint again. "You sure Avery's cool?" She only smiled. "What about you, Kim, are you cool with it?" She extended her leg until her foot touched Tony's knee. He jerked it, but then let her touch. Tony passed the joint as her big toe pushed the little hairs on his leg, barely grazing the skin, and freeing the little trapped bubbles that infested everything in the Jacuzzi. Ray took the joint and touched it to his tongue, snubbing it out. His other hand moved between her legs, and she made it easy for him. The pot, the water, the touch, it almost relaxed her straight to sleep. She slid low enough that her head was against Ray's chest, and her hair was in the water. She turned to rest her cheek against his peck, and saw Avery stepping out of their condo, completely naked. Their neighbors in the other three condos were all easy going, a gay couple, a straight couple, and lady who hung paintings out to dry in the yard. As long as they kept the Jacuzzi lights off, they didn't seem to mind a little skinny dipping, but Avery was crossing the entire yard in the buff, and that was really pushing it. Ray now had a finger inside of her, moving slow and gentle, and as Avery swaggered down the path, carrying two beers in one hand and pinching two glasses full of water in the other, she worshiped the site of his body. She simply loved his broad shoulders, his angular pecks, and the sexy divot on the side of his ass. At six-feet tall and a lean one-sixty-five, he was something else. He didn't have large muscles, but he seemed to have them nestled everywhere, especially along his back, which created beautiful ink blot patterns as it would move. She thought of the time one of his ex-girlfriends had spent an evening with them, Bria, and as she and Kim fooled around on the bed, they both looked up at Avery leaning naked against the wall. He'd taken a break to watch the action, settle down some, and prolong the evening. But neither of the girls could stand to have his beauty out of the mix, so they broke apart and crossed the bed towards him, meowing and scratching the air like two naked cats. He'd looked sooo incredibly beautiful that night, like an angel on ecstasy, and as he approached the Jacuzzi, he appeared that way again. Tony pushed her foot away as Avery climbed the steps. She giggled, but Ray's magic finger took hold of her breath and her giggle fell into a sigh. She had no idea if Avery knew a really good finger-fucking was going on under the black water, but he must've assumed it after she'd sighed. He handed out the drinks, and then placed his feet in the water, sitting on the edge. She grabbed his calf, pinching it. Ray's finger was big enough that it started to feel like real fucking, and then suddenly there were two. Her cheek circled his peck with the water bubbling against her face, and she squeezed Avery's calf harder. Avery set his hand over hers. "Fucking gorgeous night, huh?" Ray's two fingers suddenly got very frisky and increased their speed. "Got that right! And thanks for letting me share it with the three of you." He spoke so coolly he couldn't possibly be the same guy who was frigging the life out of her right then. Oh god, she couldn't not let what was happening show on her face. Avery was OK, she knew that, but she was about to lose it front of Tony, and that made her feel so weirdly self conscious she couldn't stand it. She panicked and moved her hips forward, losing the two magic fingers. She stood up on the wood seat, a flood of water streaming off her body and wetting everyone. She stepped up to the edge, and then jumped down into the yard. With wet bare feet, she lightly but quickly tip-toed up the path to their backdoor, dripping water the entire way. Fifteen minutes later she'd heard Nick Cave's Tender Prey album start from downstairs, and it gave her a chill. She'd just had a long nerve building conversation with herself in their silver swing-arm mirror about what she would and wouldn't allow for the remainder of the night. As the first song played, featuring Mr. Cave's thicker-than-molasses, sorrowful voice, singing how the mercy seat is waiting, she decided it high time to get back to the party. She pulled a pair of army shorts from a black lacquer dresser, grabbed her hoodie off the chair by the bed, the black one with the giant gear and skull on the back and the Arch Enemy logo over her right breast, zipped it over herself, combed her bangs partially in front of her face, and then headed down the spiral staircase to the boys. To take advantage of the view, their living room was set to the backside of the condo, with a large window forming the back wall. There were a wad of towels on the tile around the sliding glass door, and the boys had all returned to their pants, but apparently shirts were optional. She felt a little at ease seeing everyone at least half clothed. Tony sat in the throne, which was a large carved wooden chair they kept against the wall. Next to him were two large speaker cabinets with a record player squeezed in between, Avery being an extreme vinyl enthusiast. As she circled her way down the steps, Avery discovered her, just as ole Nick. Cave reached a most desperate place, singing, "AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO DIE!" "Here she comes. Here's my gal." He sat cross legged, pulling albums from his collection and handing them to Ray. Ray was seated on the edge of the couch, using one hand to comb his wet hair back. He looked her way, shocked to see a brooding, unisex, high-school girl in her hoodie and army shorts standing on the stairs, but then he leered, and Christina Sabbath whispered inside Kim's head, "Busted!" The spiral stairs were in the front corner and next to the throne, so Tony stared point blank at her baggy jacket when she reached the bottom. "Where'd your tits go?" Her lips swung to the right and she rolled her eyes. "Fuck you!" "Avery, man, you should buy your girlfriend some more tight dresses, dude." "Why, so you can look at my tits all the time, you sick little Italian?" She went straight to the couch, sat down on the cushion with her back against the armrest, and stretched her feet out, placing them on Ray's lap. He scooted over some, so they were better balanced, and then maneuvered into a really fantastic foot massage. The heel of her foot pressed against something that couldn't have been his leg, and she wondered what it could possibly––yeah right–– she'd pressed her heel against his cock. She stroked it gently, rocking her ankle, while his fingers splayed bones and tendons, and his thumbs burrowed at her arch. Avery pulled an album with a black cover and headed for the stereo. Tony caught sight of it coming his way. "Man, you're going to play Misfits right now? I'm high, dude! I'm mellow!" "Nooo! Leave on Nick Cave." She made her eyelashes butterfly. "You love the Misfits." "Not after a Jacuzzi!" "All of you––prisoners of comfort!" "Shut up babe, and come here." Avery tossed the album on the coffee table and came to her for a kiss. He then lowered himself and spun around, sitting against the front of the couch. She moved a hand over his shoulder and began to rub. She could feel Ray growing under her heel as he kept grinding heaven into her feet, and now Avery was rolling his head while she kneaded his back and neck. Nick Cave was spewing morbidly about Deanna's soul, as Ray's hands moved to her other foot, leaving her free one to touch his confined sweetness with her toes. She gently brushed it, the motion beginning at her knee, and the three stayed like that through another song. Avery leaned back to kiss her again, and she whispered in his ear. "Tony hates me right now." He looked, and Tony, still in the throne, watched them with a face devoid of life. "He thinks I'm fooling around on you." Avery put his face down, so his mouth was to her ear. "That's not what it is." He nipped her lobe. "He has a crush on you. He's totally jealous." Avery then pushed himself up, and saw her agile toes brushing Ray's gentlemanly assets. "I thought I felt the couch moving." He reached down and placed his hand between her breasts, flattening out his fingers. He then pinched the zipper on her hoodie and began to tug. He took it all the way down, splitting her jacket open and exposing a gutter of flesh. The inside edge of her tits were visible, a dip from her rib cage to her stomach, and a mild depression around her flat belly button. Avery then asked Ray to join him outback, and, really, what could Ray say. Before getting up, he reached down the front of his pants and shifted himself into a better position, and then he followed Avery outside.