"Hooked"
Lap Dance
"Hello, this is Jason."
"Hey, its me," her voice greeted him from across the chain. Light and lilting, cool and reassuring, soft and seductive, and a thousand other equipment besides, the pronounce on the other finish of the make a call was, as clichéd as it might be, the harmony that could appease his savage beast.
Cradling the make a call against his shoulder, Jason continued on his quest for that indefinable file folder hidden somewhere in the down of a hundred identical file folders on his desk. Dave had long-since lost interest in teasing his friend about it - he desired more of a challenge. Sitting with his feet propped up on his own counter, directly behind Jason's, Dave peered over the sports page and just shook his head.
bottomless slut
"Hey you," she almost purred back, completing the long-standing hoax between them.
"Dave says so long," Jason said, dutifully relaying the letter.
"Hi David," she replied in that repulsively sweet, flirty 12 day old schoolgirl variety of voice that women modest for friends of their mothers, modest babies, dogs, and guys they truly really really didn't resembling. While David had never met Alexandra's look after, nor was he a trivial child (at least not technically), that still not here two rather plausible explanations for her tone.
"Hi David," thought Jason, turning to his supporter and mimicking the accent to the unsurpassed of his abilities, knowing how it perturbed him so. David merely "harrumphed" and snapped the dissertation in front of him.
Turning back to his writing table, a smile creeping across his visage, Jason began restacking the folders into tidy minor piles that quite lacked any sensation of order or orderliness.
"What's up?" Jason asked the touchtone phone....."
"Thursday," she replied generously with a barely laugh. His ineptitude, in turn, manifested itself in many uncommon ways, one of them being an almost biblically balanced ability to increase by two and, at epoch, triple book. The fact that he was still booming was testament enough to how much his contacts liked him, or at least tolerated him. Alexandra, too, took it in step these days, but not before she had tried to "adjust" his behavior by trade Jason a Palm Pilot which he, of track, promptly lost. Yup, there it was: "Thursday, 7pm, watch game with D"." Without even looking, Jason could tell Dave was nodding his head in that "damn exact we are" type of way.
"Oh, OK," was Alexandra's answer. One of the things that Jason loved about her was that she wasn't the sort of woman to be as long as between a chap and his links. She wasn't the sort of woman that would get jealous or mope if her boyfriend chose to go out with his friends instead of her.
It merely wasn't in her to be that complete about it.
"Rain restrain?" Jason asked. Maybe tomorrow dark," she replied in a carry some weight of fact rank of way.
"So, what ARE you gonna do tonight?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'll find something to do."
"Wait... you're at family?" Jason asked, a modest stunned.
"What time is it?" he asked, looking around for a timer.
"Four."
"Oh."
"I immediately felt like imminent home early. So what're you burden?"
"You be knowledgeable about, just laying around, watching TV."
"Ask her what she's dressed in," Dave called from behind the newspaper.
"Dave wants to recognize what you're in," Jason without protest repeated into the phone.
"Oh, just one of your ashen dress shirts." Jason asked, a tone of bolt from the blue in his pronounce. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going away.
"And nothing else."
It took Jason a go along with to recover from this last trivial revelation. When he finally did, all he could congregate was "Hmmm..." and a doze of his head.
"So?" Dave asked from behind him.
"Huh? What? Oh, sweats. Gray ones. Dave, not believing him but knowing that this wasn't the time to press, shook his rule and went back to the document.
"I guess I'll very soon have to find... something to do... to for my part tonight," she held in that seductive species of way that could only wish one thing.
"Well, fall on, let me call you back," believed Jason.
"OK." He could almost try the smile break out across her countenance before the cable went dead.
Crap! Jason planning as he hung up the touchtone phone. For a minute he just sat there, employee still on the receiver, staring uncomprehendingly ahead.
Spinning around in his chair, Jason looked at his acquaintance, his face a mixture of hangdog guilt and transitory resolve.
"Dave..." Jason ongoing tentatively.
"No, don't 'Dave' me. You be in this world with the teenager, for Christ's sake. You see her every lone day." Dave said, drawing out the last three lexis for dramatic look.
"I see you every unattached day, too."
"That's not the top."
"Well, what IS the central theme?"
"The central theme is, when's the last instance we went out, got a couple beers, and watched the sport?"
"Monday."
"Huh? McDougal's? Steelers/Jets? Remember?"
"Oh, yeah, appropriate."
Undaunted, Dave unremitting, "I can't judge you're blowing me off for a teenager!"
"Dave... Oddly enough, he didn't have a lot of success with it.
"No, our whole lives we've acknowledged each other. Since we were babies we've famous each other," Dave graze him off, preliminary to build up a have control over of steam, "Differentiate me: what does she have that I don't?
With a heavy sigh of defeat, Dave believed, "Better yet, don't. At least give me a wisdom. Make one up if you have to, but I believe you owe me that much."
"Dave, my boy," Jason believed as he hurriedly gathered his belonging and stuffed them into his bag, "I got three language for you."
"Yeah, what's that?" Dave asked disdainfully. Dress. Shirt."
A moment passed between the two before Dave spoke. With a slur shake of his rule and a signal of his shoulders, Dave's tone faded and he thought, "See ya tomorrow, pal."
"Thanks Dave, you're the preeminent," Jason clapped his ally on the shoulder and started stuffing things into his bag again. When he had ruined packing up for the dark, Jason turned and started walking towards the entry. "We still on for golf on Saturday?" he called at Dave over his shoulder.
"Yeah, sure. I'll call your desk." Dave deadpanned.
"Well, I do have the legs for it," were the last terminology Jason heard from Dave as the winch doors slid put down the lid.
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