“Are your ellipses (...) implying something significant or do you just enjoy abusing grammar for no reason?”
“I honestly think you’re the most insane and infuriating woman I’ve ever met. I knew from the moment you gave me a tour of my own goddamn apartment that you were a special brand of psycho.”
“This is hardly love.”
“Then it’s hardly lust.”
“Then we’ll just call it us.”
“You can ride my cock until you’re not mad anymore, and I can tongue your pussy until you can’t think anymore.”
“Thank you, Professor Weston... <— How about those ellipses? Did they fit there)
—Gillian”
“If by ‘sexual favor’ you mean, did I fuck her against her office window until she couldn’t breathe, or did I ask her to get on her knees so she could suck my cock until she swallowed my come, then yes. But not in exchange for clean test results. She’d already promised to pass me after the way I ate her pussy.”
“I need to fuck you again. Preferably the second we land in London, but I’m not opposed to doing it after you get finished serving either.”
“Spare me the goddamn ellipses.” He hissed.”
“We’ll always be fucking, Gillian” He smiled, biting my lip before tossing me onto the bed. “That’s the best part of us.”
“Until this ends, my cock is the only cock you’re allowed to have, your mouth belongs to me, and if you’re ever wet and in need of pleasure, you’ll wait until I’m available to give it to you.”
“Thank you for your attempt at trying to be thoughtful while stealing shit from me.” He picked up a crossword booklet from a chair and tossed it into the trash. “And for filling out my fucking crossword puzzles without me having to ask. I’m not sure how I’ve ever survived this long without you.”
“You agreed to the terms, but I’m going to re-iterate them in more serious and final words for you. Until this ends, my cock is the only cock you’re allowed to have, your mouth belongs to me, and if you’re ever wet and in need of pleasure, you’ll wait until I’m available to give it to you.”
“Well, enlighten me, please.” She looked up and scratched her head. “In the event of something unfortunate happening to you, who would you like us to call first?” “A funeral home.”
“You’re a goddamn thief and a liar, Gillian...” he whispered against my mouth as he slid his hand between my thighs and tore off my soaked panties. “A goddamn thief and a liar.”
“What will it take?” he whispered, looking upset that we’d been interrupted. “What will it take for what?” “For you to leave with me.”
“He pulled me up and onto the bed, locking me in his arms as he kissed my lips.
He ran his hands against my bare back and whispered. “Even if I do like you…”
“I think you do.”
“Shut up, Gillian.” He bit me. “Even if I do like you - which I don’t, you’re going to have to come up with a much better reason that that to get me to stop fucking you…”
“You don’t need to like me to fuck me,” he said. “You just need to like fucking me.” He stepped closer, letting his forehead touch mine. “And from the way you still come every time we meet up, it’s clear you still like that.”
“I’d heard a lot of bullshit in my life, but “I have to be your only one” might’ve secured itself in the number one spot.”
“Are you fucking someone else?”
“We haven’t spoken in weeks.” I grit my teeth. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, and this is the first thing you ask me? How about, ‘Hello, Gillian. It’s been a long time since we last spoke. How are you?’”
“Hello, Gillian.” He mocks me, locking his eyes on mine. “It’s been a long time since we last spoke. How are you?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “Are you fucking someone else?”
“Have you brought anyone else to my fucking condo?”
“You know… if it weren’t for a certain mark of honor on your profile, I would have had you fired weeks ago, when you allegedly told an entire group of passengers to ‘Get the fuck off my plane’ when you thought they were taking too long to disembark.”
“That wasn’t allegedly. The clip is on YouTube.”
“Subject: Charlotte
How’s your week going so far? (Mine is very stressful and hectic)
Subject: Re: Charlotte
This email isn’t about fucking. (Emails are only supposed to be about fucking.)
-Jake
Subject: Charlottoe (The Correct Email)
Meet me in Terminal C when you land. Gate 15.
-Jake.”
“We need to be far more careful. There was a video of us kissing in the hallway via security camera.”
My eyes widened. “Do you not hear yourself, Jake? Is that not the perfect reason to end this?
“No, and I’m still waiting for you to give me an acceptable one. Are you finished?”
I was silent for a few seconds. “I’m not attracted to you anymore.”
“A reason that doesn’t insult my intelligence.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Tell me the truth.”
“I like you.”
He blinked.”
“Her pussy just fell on your dick?”
“I need your help.”
“That’s a given, sir. You are a sad, sad soul.”
“Dallas-Emily: More of YOU. I like you A LOT and I know that with your career, you’re alone a lot (as am I) and I feel like the two of us have a real connection. J. Weston: We do not have a connection, Emily. Dallas-Emily: If we don’t, then how come the last time you were in town, we talked for HOURS and you treated me to a five course dinner? J. Weston: We spoke for twenty minutes and I bought you a”
“I just bet Dad another thousand that you’ll be back by this Christmas.”—I”
“Oh, Gillian...” Her voice was soft. “You are a disappointment. But that’s okay. Everyone can’t be great and I love you all the same. It’s not the end of the world if—” I”
“Later in life, I learnt that many things one may require have to be weighed against one's dignity, which can be an insuperable barrier against advancement in almost any direction. However, in those days, choice between dignity and unsatisfied curiosity was less clear to me as a cruel decision that had to be made.”
“We are two women who have recognised that we cannot control the world. We are players in this game but we do not choose our own moves. The men will play us for their own desires. All we can do is try to survive whatever happens next.”
“It is finished. The tale is told truthfully, and truth is no heavier, no more beautiful than lies. Yet there is something that makes me love the truth, and that love made me wander and worry until the truth was given to you, like a gift. For this in the end is what we have. The love of something. Wild ponies. A kiss salted by tears. The scent of raspberry syrup in a bottle. Oranges. Two lost children who come to your house in the dark forest. There is much to love, and that love is what we are left with. When the bombs stop dropping, and the camps fall back to the earth and decay, and we are done killing each other, that is what we must hold. We can never let the world take our memories of love away, and if there are no memories, we must invent love all over again. The wheel turns. Blue above, green below, we wander a long way, but love is what the cup of our soul contains when we leave the world and the flesh. This we will drink forever. I know. I am Magda. I am the witch.”
“No one can ever love us quite so much as we love ourselves.”
“My wife has been killed by a machine which should never have come into the hands of any human being. It is called a firearm. It makes the blackest of all human wishes come true at once, at a distance: that something die.
There is evil for you.
We cannot get rid of mankind’s fleetingly wicked wishes. We can get rid of the machines that make them come true.
I give you a holy word: DISARM.”
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