A funny thing happened.. pt 2 - Sex Stories

A funny thing happened.. pt 2

... gave a wry little smile. "Sim, it's ok, you know? You have permission to check out my boobs every now and then." Well, shit! Where had that come from? I flashed back to Jack's story about trying to tell Sim about that dance captain. I wasn't getting cast as Gracie Graceful any time soon either. His reaction was surprising as well: "God damn it!" All of a sudden he was angrier than I'd ever seen him; angry at himself, apparently. "Gin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...shit..." He turned away, like he was getting ready to leave. I grabbed his arm. "Sim, seriously, don't worry about it. It's not like it's never happened before, and, well hell, I mean, they do cover a certain amount of territory, right?" That got him; he chuckled a little. Then: "Yeah. But it's creepy, and...I don't know. Makes me feel like I'm ten and I'm sneaking a peek at my Grandpa's National Geographics or something." "National Geographics?" "If the old guy ever bought a Playboy, I never found it." "So, what, you'd look for pictures of...? "And I'm like twice your age. It's...impolite." Now it was my turn to laugh. "I suppose. Although Miss Manners might have had the decency not to call you on it. How old are you anyway?" "Hm? Oh, 48." He'd said it casually; not coy, not defensive, no bullshit. He didn't make me promise not to tell anybody. And in our world, asking age was considered a hell of a lot more impolite than checking out somebody's cleavage. "Ok, so you're not twice my age. I'm 26. Look, don't run off." ...

... I dropped his arm, "Please? I haven't really had much of a chance to talk to you." He gave me that wry little smile again; shrugged. "Alright, alright," sounding a little like Tevye, "I'm sorry, though." "Would you stop apologizing, for fuck's sake? What is there to be sorry for?" He flared a little. "I don't know: sneaking a peek? Over-reacting?" "Fine, forgiven. Not like there's much of anything to forgive. Now will you calm down? And maybe give me a little more of that weed?" "There's a thought." He relit the pipe, took another hit himself and passed it over. I drew in a lungful, and then...maybe it was the pot, but I decided not to drop the subject. "Sim, I've got to say I don't get it. You spend half the show with your hands or your face on my chest. What's the problem? Does your girlfriend not like it when you have to get...um...physical with other actors?" "You're not going to let this go, are you?" "Well, I will if you want me to, but...look, I'm comfortable around you. I like you. I'd like you to be comfortable with me too, you know?" "Wow. Tell you the truth, being comfortable around you is...um...challenging for me." That hurt, and it must have shown on my face, because he hurried on: "Ah shit, Gin, that came out wrong. I'm sorry. And I like you too. Really. You're a terrific lady, a dream to work with and...but...look, you do know that you're absolutely beautiful, right? It was the strangest compliment I had ever been given. Most guys who say something like that ...