‹ Prequel: Baby & the Bone: Vol. I
Status: doubtful
Baby & the Bone: Vol. II
VAL
So around four in the morning, Lil lets herself into my cabin, no “hey,” no “how are you,” no “my scumbag brother sent me over here to fuck you in exchange for drugs.” Through her off-white t-shirt, I can see her nipples, the size of pennies and rose pink.
But at this point, I’m not sure I want it anymore. It’s the way she’s already getting under my skin, and I just want the sex to be over with. It’s the one-sided feeling of anticipation and the sticky summer air. I know Lil’s probably soaking in something Dior J’adore or another, but she only smells almost sweet, like sour citrus fruits. And her sweat stains are the size of planets.
She’s slipping. Lilian Paradis’s unblemished reputation is slipping.
This entire time, she hasn’t taken her eyes off me once. She raises an immaculately arched eyebrow. “What are you waiting for?”
I know you’re waiting to hear all the gory bits and details, you sick perv, but there’s not a lot I could tell you about this next part of the story. We fuck, both of us putting in a half-assed, maybe 7-minute long effort while A Tribe Called Quest plays in the background. But what did you expect? What did I expect?
It’s shitty, I know. If you had asked me then, I probably would have answered, “No... I had no idea that fucker Kirby actually meant it…”
Now, I don’t know anymore. You don’t think I wanted to tell her “fuck off,” to throw the pills in Kirby’s smug fucking face, to write the both of them a 300-word essay on the moral wrongs of sibling prostitution? But you know Lil and come on. I know there’s no excuse, but you’re telling me you wouldn’t have done the same?
What happened next? I offer her a cigarette, and she flips her hair, ignoring me. She leaves my cabin completely composed and unmarked; it takes me a few seconds before I notice she’s gone.
Oh, you mean, what happened next... I know I’m gonna go to hell for making jokes this soon, but Christ, if Lil had known she’d be sentenced to death by Green Apple Smirnoff, she’d roll her eyes and say, “Ugh, gag me much?”
But at this point, I’m not sure I want it anymore. It’s the way she’s already getting under my skin, and I just want the sex to be over with. It’s the one-sided feeling of anticipation and the sticky summer air. I know Lil’s probably soaking in something Dior J’adore or another, but she only smells almost sweet, like sour citrus fruits. And her sweat stains are the size of planets.
She’s slipping. Lilian Paradis’s unblemished reputation is slipping.
This entire time, she hasn’t taken her eyes off me once. She raises an immaculately arched eyebrow. “What are you waiting for?”
I know you’re waiting to hear all the gory bits and details, you sick perv, but there’s not a lot I could tell you about this next part of the story. We fuck, both of us putting in a half-assed, maybe 7-minute long effort while A Tribe Called Quest plays in the background. But what did you expect? What did I expect?
It’s shitty, I know. If you had asked me then, I probably would have answered, “No... I had no idea that fucker Kirby actually meant it…”
Now, I don’t know anymore. You don’t think I wanted to tell her “fuck off,” to throw the pills in Kirby’s smug fucking face, to write the both of them a 300-word essay on the moral wrongs of sibling prostitution? But you know Lil and come on. I know there’s no excuse, but you’re telling me you wouldn’t have done the same?
What happened next? I offer her a cigarette, and she flips her hair, ignoring me. She leaves my cabin completely composed and unmarked; it takes me a few seconds before I notice she’s gone.
Oh, you mean, what happened next... I know I’m gonna go to hell for making jokes this soon, but Christ, if Lil had known she’d be sentenced to death by Green Apple Smirnoff, she’d roll her eyes and say, “Ugh, gag me much?”