“He was wooing me. And I was letting him woo. I wanted the woo. I deserved the woo. I needed the wow that would surely follow the woo, but for now, the woo? It was whoa.”
“Fucking Wallbanger,” I hissed, frozed on the spot.
His grin slid off as well as he played place-the-face for a moment. “Fucking Pink Nightie Girl.”
“You done with work?
Yep, at home waiting for you.
Now that's a nice visual...
Prepare yourself, I'm taking bread out of the oven.
Don't tease me woman...zucchini?
Cranberry orange. Mmmm...
No woman has ever done breakfast bread foreplay the way you do.
Ha! When you coming?
Can't. Drive. Straight.
Can we have one conversation when you're not twelve?
Sorry, I'll be there in 30
Perfect, that will give me time to frost my buns.
Pardon me?
Oh, didn't I tell you? I also made cinnamon rolls.
Be there in 25.”
“I moaned like a whore in church.
To be fair, I’d never actually heard a whore moan in church, but I had a feeling it sounded a lot like the unholy sounds pouring forth from my mouth.”
“Simon does commando. God bless America.”
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
“How thoroughly you own me, Nightie Girl,” he said, leaning in to whisper this part in my ear. “And I know I love you enough to want you to have your happy ending.”
“Get your ass over here right now, you motherfucking scary movie pusher.”
“Sweet dreams and thin walls... Mother of Pearl. He'd heard me.”
“You gonna bang my walls, Simon?” I laughed.
“You have no idea,” he promised.”
“Peeling apples, just peeling apples. Didn’t feel your boobs. No, no, not me”
“Hi, pot. It’s me, kettle,” Sophia snapped back.
“Hi kettle, you have about thirty seconds before this pot kicks your ass.”
“Have you seen this guy yet?"
"Nope. My peephole is getting a workout, though."
"Glad to hear at least one hole is getting some action around here.”
“You know those moments when everything is exactly the way it was meant to be? When you find yourself and your entire universe aligning in perfect synchronization, and you know you couldn’t possibly be more content? I was inside that very moment, and fully conscious of it.”
“Now you listen here, mister,” I said, trying for a more adult tone. “I’m not going to spend every night listening to you try to crash you girl’s head through my wall with the force of your dick alone!”
“The girl next door was meowing. What in the world was my neighbor packing to make that happen?”
“I’m gonna try to steal home.”
I smiled. “Silly Simon, it’s not stealing if I wave you in”
“The right woman for you wouldn't want you to change anything about your life. She wouldn't rock your boat, she'd jump right in and sail it with you.”
“My shirt bunched up around my waist, and the feeling of his hi-there against my hoohah was indescribable.”
“Beneath the sheet—which was already lower on his hips than should be legal —
He
Was
Still
Hard”
“I wouldn’t say I know him, but I’m familiar with his work.”
“And Caroline? Speaking fo thin walls?" he said, as he opened his door and looked back at me. He leaned in his own doorway, thumping his fist on the wall.
"Yes?" I asked a little too dreamily for my own good.
His smirk reappeared and he said, "Sweet dreams".
He thumped the wall one more time, winked, and went inside.
Huh. Sweet dreams and thin walls. Sweet dreams and thin walls...
Mother of pearl. He'd heard me...”
“Why do all men seem to think they need to rescue a woman? Are we not capable of rescuing our damn selves? Why do I need to be rescued? I don’t need a man to rescue me, and I certainly don’t need no wallbanging, Purina-fucking, listening-at-my-wall-like-a-goddamn-psycho coming over here to rescue me! You got that, mister?”
“Thump
“Oh, God”
Thump Thump
Unbelievable…
I woke up faster this time, because I knew what I was hearing I sat up in bed, glaring behind me. The bed was still pulled safely away from the wall, so I felt no movement. But there sure as hell something moving over there.
Then I heard ……hissing?
I looked down at Clive, whose tail was at full puff. He arched his back and paced back and forth at the foot of the bed.
“Hey, mister. It’s cool. We just got a noisy neighbor, that’s all,” I soothed, stretching my hand out to him. That’s when I heard it. “Meow”
I cocked my head sideways, listening more intently. I studied Clive, who looked back at me as if to say “T’weren’t me”.
“Meow! Oh, God. Me -Yow!”
The girl next door was meowing. What in the world was my neighbor packing to make that happen?
Clive, at this point, went utterly bonkers and launched himself at the wall. He was literally climbing it, trying to get where the noise was coming from, and adding his own meows to the chorus.
“Oooh yes, just like that, Simon…Mmmm….Meow, meow, Meow!”
Sweet Lord, there were out-of-control pussies on both sides of this wall tonight.”
“I’m done with easy.”
“You should print that on cards.”
“Print this—why do you still have clothes on?”
“It breaks my heart the way young girls pick themselves over, never thinking they're good enough. You make sure you always remember, you're exactly the way you're supposed to be. Exactly. And anyone who says otherwise, well, poppycock.”
“I started to roll my eyes, but that hurt. The right one was pressed so firmly against the peephole, you see.”
“I panted like a whore in church. The Church of Simon... where I was dying to kneel before him.”
“Even in utero and after birth, for every moment of every day, our brain is processing the nonstop set of incoming signals from our senses. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste—all of the raw sensory data that will result in these sensations enter the lower parts of the brain and begin a multistage process of being categorized, compared to previously stored patterns, and ultimately, if necessary, acted upon. In many cases the pattern of incoming signals is so repetitive, so familiar, so safe and the memory template that this pattern matches is so deeply engrained, that your brain essentially ignores them. This is a form of tolerance called habituation.”
“His voice was a muted roar and his face was still the mask of a beast. Gone was the kind, patient male who had carried her for miles, gone was the gentle soul who had healed her wounds so tenderly. In his place was a monster—at least that was how he looked to Sophie. “I”
“Well, get the coffer out," said Tobie roundly. "You find his clean clothes and I'll cut his hair round his cap and wash his ears out. Then, when we get to the Palazzo Medici, you imitate his voice and I'll sit him on my knee and move his arms up and down. Where is the problem?”
“The people welcome a new da yas if they were certain of liking it, the shopkeepers pull up their blinds serene in the expectation of good trade, the workers go happily to their work, the people who have sat up all night in night clubs go happily to their rest, the orchestra of motor-car horns, of clanking trams, of whistling policemen tunes up for the daily symphony, and everywhere is joy.”
“Nur hat der Paul dieses sein Denkvermögen genauso ununterbrochen beim Fenster hinausgeworfen, wie sein Geldvermögen, aber während sein Geldvermögen sehr bald endgültig zum Fenster hinausgeworfen und erschöpft gewesen war, war sein Denkvermögen tatsächlich unerschöpflich; er warf es ununterbrochen zum Fenster hinaus und es vermehrte sich (gleichzeitig) ununterbrochen, je mehr er von seinem Denkvermögen aus dem Fenster (seines Kopfes) hinauswarf, desto mehr vergrößerte es sich, das ist ja das Kennzeichen solcher Menschen, die zuerst verrückt sind und schließlich als wahnsinnig bezeichnet werden, dass sie immer mehr und immer ununterbrochen ihr Geistesvermögen zum Fenster (ihres Kopfes) hinauswerfen und sich gleichzeitig in diesem ihrem Kopf ihr Geistesvermögen mit derselben Geschwindigkeit, mit welcher sie es zum Fenster (ihres Kopfes) hinauswerfen, vermehrt. Sie werfen immer mehr Geistesvermögen zum Fenster (ihres Kopfes) hinaus und es wird gleichzeitig in ihrem Kopf immer mehr und naturgemäß immer bedrohlicher und schließlich kommen sie mit dem Hinauswerfen ihres Geistesvermögens (aus ihrem Kopf) nicht mehr nach und der Kopf hält das sich fortwährend in ihrem Kopf vermehrende und in diesem ihrem Kopf angestaute Geistesvermögen nicht mehr aus und explodiert.”
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