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Guy and the hummer: Thursday

Written by:Irene
Published on November 3rd, 2015 @ 02:52:00 pm , using 813 words
Posted in Guy the invincible

In German the name of this day means The Day of Thunder (Donnerstag) – after Jupiter with his thunder and Thor – with his hummer. Well, Guy never considered himself properly – or even systematically - educated person: ten years spent in a public school, and less than two years in community college – or so to speak, an Italian equivalent – he dropped out because of... let's say, wrong temperament. But still – the names of the weekdays... Anyway – it doesn't matter. For this story, at least.

He was young, ambitious, and penniless. But – life is life, and Guy frequented Tango – a night club not so far from the Verdi-theater, in Florence. Not so good-looking, and – as I already had a chance to mention – not rich at all – what chances did he get there?! But... He looked for someone. For a girl to fill an emptiness of his nights – of course, in his playful imagination. At that time he wasn't a famous porn director – yet; and the girls didn't accept his internal prominence. Simply – didn't see it. At all. What a pity, right? So, he was alone with his dreams...

That evening... Yes, a normal evening – he parked his rusty and beaten FIAT (“Fix-It-Again-Tony”) at the last vacant spot, next to the dirty garbage bin; and walked into the club. Everything was normal. Well... But that girl... The girl he hadn't seen there before. He thought the girl was... just of a kind who'll never fuck you, me, or that boy next door. Never.

Guy gulped another Vodka, and crossed the dance-hall – straight to the her table where she drunk her bloody-Mary. A classic one – by the way: a layer of Russian vodka, covered by a tomato juice.
Guy knew for sure that rather the polite green guys from Sirius would wash his toilet than such a girl would even talk to him – but still smiled, and said as if he addressed a traffic cop: hopelessly but with a smile:

“Lady, I swear, I've never met anyone in my life whom I'd like to fuck more than I want you. Your fantastic image will stay in front of my inner eye when I'll masturbate tonight. Thank you so very much that you exist. “

And that's all. Guy turned around and walked away. Still smiling – all the way to his lonely table. But... He only had enough time to drink another vodka when she already stood right there – smiling as only Ms. L, famous XXX-model, could smile (much later though: she didn't even entered this business – yet):

“You've got your chance, pal. Where did you park?”

And they came to his flat, and had a fuck of their life. Have you ever seen how those baboons fuck? That's the case! I swear, monkeys would be ashamed for the rest of their filthy lives!

Much later – when he got into adult-movie-business all-right – Guy realized that either girl can be charmingly beautiful – or fuckable. Here and there wasn't the case. She could be considered a world-class sex-machine, all-the-XXX-writers' wettest dream. Fantastically dumb – but that doesn't matter anyway with such a … well, exterior.

And that's how it was – an entire month or so. Gradually she explained she's got a guy – much older, rich but... no good for nothing. Could get his orgasm only when she – fully naked – touched his ear with her small fingers. Old psychic trauma – what would you say...

So, this man came. Right there. To Guy's flat. And entered in a way: broke through the door with a huge sledge-hammer. A rail-road-type. Guy knew a thing or two about the doors jumping to the very center of the room – and didn't move. Old man stepped into the kitchen – where Guy and his girl stood. Naked. And Guy had only two rings of pineapple strategically sat on his hard-erected dick. What did he suppose to do? Okay. He said: “Maybe, a cup of coffee?”

Yes, even then Guy understood how well a simple politeness might work. Man was impressed. He node approvingly: “Yes – but strong and as much as possible. No sugar and a drop of a cream, please. And you, Jenny. Sit down - if you please... “

Guy turned to the gas-stove with his butt blinking in electric light, and boiled the strongest coffee for a fellow who found him on kitchen in that exact moment when their mutual lover (kneeling comfortably on a small pillow) ate fruit shish-kabob from his dick.

And what that crazy man did at the moment when coffee was almost ready? Instead of jealous scream and a drama scene, he rose his sledge-hammer, and... removed a top-half of Jenny's skull. In one move. And – said quietly: “I didn't want it. Never. I didn't kill her – my love did. “

End of story. And Guy? Well. Since then he's got a feeling for a drama. A very strong one. That's how he decided to become a XXX-movies' director.

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