“How much of our lives are in the movies?
How much of the movies are in our lives?”
(Anonymous)
“Nothing is as certain as death and
taxes.” Joe Black reflected, as the movie dragged on about certainties in life.
Paul Murray stifled a yawn and wondered again how he had let Peggy drag him out
to the movies. He was a busy man and movies did not usually make his schedule
unless the movie was a prelude to sex. In this case it was. Peggy was his
regular girl- though he kept others on the side whenever he got bored of her.
She was good enough for a laugh and in the sack, but Paul always liked to keep
his options open.
Peggy Milsap sat
to the right of Paul in the darkened theatre, desperately trying to hold back
the tears as Brad Pitt steamed up the screen. Paul glanced at the tearful Peggy
then back to the screen to watch Brad Pitt confess his love to another beauty
that one could actually conceive of dying for. Not that Paul would have died
for anything- or anyone for that matter. He certainly would not have died for
Peggy even though he believed he loved her, but only occasionally, in moments
of weakness. He was instantly grateful
he hadn’t married her, although he had nearly asked a year ago. Paul knew that
he would never dare marry Peggy or any other woman; he could not afford such a
character flaw in his life or professional career. Unless, of course, he did actually run for office- then maybe he would
chance it. But it was unlikely, Paul Murray had far too many skeletons to hide
to make a very public run for elected office. No, it was better to remain where
he was; especially since he knew where the real power lay.
He stifled another
yawn wanting to look away from Brad and his all-to-beautiful partner engaged in
the love scene. He looked to his left at the couple, five or six seats down,
all snuggled together as they watched the movie. Disgusted, he looked back at
Peggy, wondering if he could stand such an entanglement. He wondered as to why
they were still together. He found no reasons intellectually, so he appraised
her physically instead. Peggy for the
most part was a plain woman in appearance, slender and small. She had a round
doll-like face with a narrow nose and small mouth framed by straight black
hair. Her mouth was sweet to kiss but had left no lasting impression. On her
nose rested a pair of full-rimmed glasses, librarian size and shape. Peggy only
wore them when she went to movies or to read. She reads too much, Paul thought,
as his eyes wondered on down. He glanced briefly at her slim arms which were
crossed under her breasts- the only feature that he could see at that moment
that held much interest and longing for Paul.
Paul
gazed at Peggy’s breasts, which were pushing hard against her tee shirt. Her
nipples protruded against the flimsy bra that Paul made her wear when they went
out. Paul smiled, Peggy’s breasts were small and hard; he realized at that
moment, in the dark, that was why he stayed. A low fever of desire rose inside
Paul as he stared. Paul now satisfied with this newfound answer relaxed and
sighed. A fresh feeling rolled over him as he looked back at his sole reason
for staying, something stirred deep down inside of his being. Paul purred.
This purring noise
was deeply “guttural,” a sound-like that of a lion looking at his next meal.
Peggy gave him a look of real surprise. Her face had reddened from her tears
and now a fresh blush came into her cheeks and she almost smiled. Her smile
froze on her face, like a tongue on frozen metal, as she saw where Paul’s gaze
was glued. Her frozen smile melted into a grimace of disgust, her arms quickly
cutting off his view.
“Paul!” she hissed
almost to loud to be a whisper.
“Paul!” she
repeated lower with sharper inflection.
Paul snapped out of his reverie like a rubber band freshly
sprung. He looked into her icy expression.
“Yes my sweets?”
He managed to choke out.
“Would you get me
a Pepsi” She quickly added, “diet please.”
“Okay Honey.”
