she'd
finally found her ticket to the big time.
Only one problem. He
was
married.
It took him weeks before he told her who he was. When he did, she
acted all surprised, especially when he revealed the identity of his
wife.
Because she didn't throw a fit, he started to feel very comfortable
with her, and soon he was complaining about his famous wife non-stop.
According to him, Lissa Roman was a cold, unloving bitch with the
biggest ego in the world, and his most fervent complaint was that she
refused to help him with his career.
Deidra had listened to a few of his songs, immediately understanding
why Lissa couldn't help him. The man had no talent except in bed.
Of course she didn't tell him that. She told him he was the most
gifted, fabulous, hot, sexy man she'd ever slept with. And he had the
biggest, most admirable cock she'd ever seen. And his wife was an idiot
because she did not appreciate him.
Gregg believed every word - he was a man, wasn't he?
After a while it occurred to Deidra she was not getting anything out
of the affair except a litany of complaints about Lissa Roman. Gregg
was not offering to pay her rent. Gregg was not buying her presents.
Gregg was not mentioning that he would divorce his wife - thereby
ending up with big alimony. He wasn't even taking her out to dinner,
claiming it was too risky for them to be seen together in public.
All they were doing was hanging out in her tiny apartment indulging
in endless sex. Which wasn't a bad thing because Gregg
was
quite a cocksman. On the other hand, Deidra had to think about her
future, and if Gregg wasn't prepared to come up with a plan that suited
both of them
and
some big bucks, she'd better start looking
elsewhere. After all, she wasn't getting any younger, and Hollywood was
chock-a-block with beautiful babes, a new batch arriving every day.
Deidra decided she'd better make a stand, so when Gregg arrived at
her apartment on Thursday night, she was ready.
He entered, complaining. Nothing new about
that
.
Deidra listened for a while, stifling a yawn because it had been a
long day - even though she'd had the pleasure of admiring Brad Pitt
from afar when he'd come into the store with his wife, Jennifer
Aniston. How lucky could one girl get? A hit TV series
and
Brad Pitt. It didn't seem fair.
Gregg fixed himself a Scotch.
Her
liquor, he didn't even
spring for
that
.
He sat down on the couch, still complaining about Lissa, then said
something that
really
got her angry. 'Take off your bra,
babe. Shake those titties an' gimme an eyeful.'
Who did he think he was talking to? A hooker? A stripper? A lap
dancer?
She was suddenly livid. 'Gregg,' she began, in an uptight tone,
'I've been thinking…'
'You have?' he said, interrupting her. 'Clever girl.'
'Don't talk down to me,' she snapped.
He was surprised: it was the first time Deidra had raised her voice
to him. 'What's up?' he said.
'First you ask me to take my bra off, then you treat me like I'm
some kind of bimbo,' she said, steaming. 'I am
not
a bimbo,
I'm your… your lover. And I've been thinking.'
'Don't give me shit, Deidra,' he said, starting to frown.
'What makes you think it's shit?' she said, still simmering.
'Cause
you've got that face on.'
' What face?'
'The face women get when they're gonna say something that's gonna
bug the crap outta me.'
'You come here, we make love, you go home,' she nagged. 'What's in
this for me, Gregg? Are you planning to divorce your wife or what?'
'Jesus Christ!' he said, standing up. 'Who mentioned divorce?'
' I did,' she said defiantly.
'Hold on a minute,' he said, his expression tight and nasty. 'We've
only been seeing each other a few weeks.'
'It's not a few weeks, Gregg. You've been coming over here most
nights for the last two months.'
'What're you doin', counting?'
Her voice rose to a high pitch. 'And
I'm
not getting
anything out of it.'
What the fuck? Why couldn't women keep their pissy little complaints
to themselves? 'Didn't realize you
finally found her ticket to the big time.
Only one problem. He
was
married.
It took him weeks before he told her who he was. When he did, she
acted all surprised, especially when he revealed the identity of his
wife.
Because she didn't throw a fit, he started to feel very comfortable
with her, and soon he was complaining about his famous wife non-stop.
According to him, Lissa Roman was a cold, unloving bitch with the
biggest ego in the world, and his most fervent complaint was that she
refused to help him with his career.
Deidra had listened to a few of his songs, immediately understanding
why Lissa couldn't help him. The man had no talent except in bed.
Of course she didn't tell him that. She told him he was the most
gifted, fabulous, hot, sexy man she'd ever slept with. And he had the
biggest, most admirable cock she'd ever seen. And his wife was an idiot
because she did not appreciate him.
Gregg believed every word - he was a man, wasn't he?
After a while it occurred to Deidra she was not getting anything out
of the affair except a litany of complaints about Lissa Roman. Gregg
was not offering to pay her rent. Gregg was not buying her presents.
Gregg was not mentioning that he would divorce his wife - thereby
ending up with big alimony. He wasn't even taking her out to dinner,
claiming it was too risky for them to be seen together in public.
All they were doing was hanging out in her tiny apartment indulging
in endless sex. Which wasn't a bad thing because Gregg
was
quite a cocksman. On the other hand, Deidra had to think about her
future, and if Gregg wasn't prepared to come up with a plan that suited
both of them
and
some big bucks, she'd better start looking
elsewhere. After all, she wasn't getting any younger, and Hollywood was
chock-a-block with beautiful babes, a new batch arriving every day.
Deidra decided she'd better make a stand, so when Gregg arrived at
her apartment on Thursday night, she was ready.
He entered, complaining. Nothing new about
that
.
Deidra listened for a while, stifling a yawn because it had been a
long day - even though she'd had the pleasure of admiring Brad Pitt
from afar when he'd come into the store with his wife, Jennifer
Aniston. How lucky could one girl get? A hit TV series
and
Brad Pitt. It didn't seem fair.
Gregg fixed himself a Scotch.
Her
liquor, he didn't even
spring for
that
.
He sat down on the couch, still complaining about Lissa, then said
something that
really
got her angry. 'Take off your bra,
babe. Shake those titties an' gimme an eyeful.'
Who did he think he was talking to? A hooker? A stripper? A lap
dancer?
She was suddenly livid. 'Gregg,' she began, in an uptight tone,
'I've been thinking…'
'You have?' he said, interrupting her. 'Clever girl.'
'Don't talk down to me,' she snapped.
He was surprised: it was the first time Deidra had raised her voice
to him. 'What's up?' he said.
'First you ask me to take my bra off, then you treat me like I'm
some kind of bimbo,' she said, steaming. 'I am
not
a bimbo,
I'm your… your lover. And I've been thinking.'
'Don't give me shit, Deidra,' he said, starting to frown.
'What makes you think it's shit?' she said, still simmering.
'Cause
you've got that face on.'
' What face?'
'The face women get when they're gonna say something that's gonna
bug the crap outta me.'
'You come here, we make love, you go home,' she nagged. 'What's in
this for me, Gregg? Are you planning to divorce your wife or what?'
'Jesus Christ!' he said, standing up. 'Who mentioned divorce?'
' I did,' she said defiantly.
'Hold on a minute,' he said, his expression tight and nasty. 'We've
only been seeing each other a few weeks.'
'It's not a few weeks, Gregg. You've been coming over here most
nights for the last two months.'
'What're you doin', counting?'
Her voice rose to a high pitch. 'And
I'm
not getting
anything out of it.'
What the fuck? Why couldn't women keep their pissy little complaints
to themselves? 'Didn't realize you
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