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The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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His Girl Friday
By fishingnuns

 


A/N Hi all, I'm trying to get inspired for my FOB story, I'm sorry that I am the slowest updater in the world, but I thought I'd try my hand with some TAI fiction and this sprang into my mind. Please let me know what you think!

XOKM



His Girl Friday

This was the last time. She swore to herself that she'd stop using him as a crutch. She walked to his door ? it was Monday. He opened the door, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

         gHey h her voice was small, betraying her insecurities. He held the door open for her, gesturing for her to enter his small, one bedroom apartment. Without any ceremony ? there was no need for ceremony anymore ? she opened her long jacket and exposed the lingerie that was bought for someone else.


         He unclasped her bra ? one hand ? and pushed her back onto his small bed. He kissed and caressed and she moaned and writhed, and within the blink of an eye ? which lasted an eternity ? it was over. She pulled on her underpants, her bra and her jacket, left while he slept on the couch, and left.

         She hated herself. It would never happen again. She walked home and wrote in her journal. That had been the last time, she wasn't this type of girl. She called her boyfriend, and made plans for the weekend.


         It was Tuesday. It was the last time, she promised herself. She braced herself and knocked on the familiar door. He opened the door, wearing the same shirt from the day before. He looked like Hell. But when he saw her, he smiled, exposing the sarcastic, sexy vibe that first attracted her to him. He motioned for her to come inside.

         Today she was dressed. She slowly exposed her skin, skin that was meant for someone else, wearing clothing bought to arouse someone else. She was with him, but thinking of someone else entirely. She was wracked with guilt and pleasure simultaneously, and somehow this made it better, and worse.

         She dressed when it was over, and she hated herself. She walked to the bus stop and made the journey home. She answered her messages and reassured the him that mattered most. She watched a movie and she cried. She cried because she was a terrible awful person,and she hated it.

         Wednesday came the same way Monday and Tuesday had, but this time it was really the last. She knocked on the door, entered the apartment, reached heights of guilt/pleasure she had never imagined possible and left full of self hatred. She trudged home and called her man.

         Thursday was more of the same. This time it would really be the last. His self satisfied smirk excited her in ways other men never could. They connected on a purely animalistic level and it worked perfectly for them. They were the worst and best for each other, the darkness and the light.

         She hated herself again. It was Friday night, and she was painstakingly applying cosmetics while her hair was in curlers. In fifteen minutes she would put on the guise of the perfect girlfriend, and she would be locked in an apartment having a sexy, amazing, guilt ridden time. This was the last weekend it would happen.


         And on Monday morning, she would march right over to his house and tell him it was over. So as Mike picked her up and fed her an amazing dinner and took her to his apartment for the weekend, she was thinking of William, and as William takes her on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, she pretends that it's going to be the last time, and she hates herself.

         And when she hears their newest CD, and track number three plays, she realizes William has turned their situation, his complete betrayal of a friend, into a song. And she cries, because she hates herself, and she vows that this will be the last time, as she parks her car, and walks up to his front door. It's Monday.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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