Quirks & Kinks by Laurel Ulen Curtis Read Free Book Online Page A

commented.
    The screen cut to a silhouette shot of Mike just as I uncovered my eyes. “There’s something euphoric about combining two positively emotional experiences.”
    Editing perfectly transitioned to a darkened image of Abby, just as her voice called over the airwaves. “I don’t get pleasure from the clothes or personas like Mike does, but it didn’t take me long to realize I got gratification from his delight.”
    “Aww, that’s kind of sweet in a freaky way,” Ashley noted.
    “I know.” It was. I’d been slightly mystified by my growing understanding (so unlike me) the more I’d talked to Abby during filming. She wasn’t into clowns. Not at all. But she was into Mike. And love like that was something I couldn’t help but get behind.
    “Can you imagine the day he dropped this bomb years ago?” Ashley asked, sinking into the arm chair, sitting sideways, and throwing her legs over the arm.
    Laying back into the couch, I giggled, changing my voice to as deep of a timber as I could manage. “Well, uh, Abby, you see, I’m um . . . Well, I’d really love it if you’d honk my nose and call me Bozo.”
    “You want me to what?!” Ashley shrieked dramatically, playing along as the part of Abby.
    “She obviously got over it,” I remarked, watching the screen with a sort of detached attention as a white-faced Ryder pretended to sink between my legs. We’d evidently missed the rest of the intro and Ryder’s lead in to Red Nose Day while we were having a little reenactment of our own.
    “Understatement of the century.”
    We watched in silence for several seconds before Ashley’s eyebrows made an attempt to climb into her hairline. “Did he just—”
    “No,” I lied, reliving the moment when Ryder had run his stupid red nose up the line of my sex and inhaled. It hadn’t been for show, but I wasn’t certain he was doing it because he genuinely wanted me either. He just seemed to get some sort of sadistic pleasure out of making me the epitome of uncomfortable.
    Of course, I hadn’t exactly let it slide, getting mine back by threatening to maim the next seven generations of his family with ragged shards of glass and “bumping” an elbow directly into his balls as soon as Howie had yelled cut.
    There was a necessary level of intimacy when you were shooting scenes like that. And then there was a flagrant abuse of that necessity. Ryder’s actions fell well within the latter scenario.
    Airing on a network like TLE (The Learning Experience), it wasn’t unexpected to have a show that pushed the boundaries in both subject matter and propriety, but this wasn’t that.
    Major editing did a great job of making everything feel real without making it necessary to move to a network like Skin-e-max, but my personal experience made things easier to notice. And I’d noticed that Ryder’s actions made me look appropriate.
    I watched as we portrayed the day that Mike had approached Abby about his desire to take their show on the road, making love (as clowns, of course) on a remote piece of property he owned. How the thought of her as a pregnant clown only heightened his excitement.
    I could see my cynicism in the face of trying to be understanding of the man I loved. Which, from talking to Abby, pretty much nailed how she was feeling when he’d actually approached her that day. But she’d gone through with it, hoping not only to please Mike, but knowing that once the baby came there would be a significant decrease in their role playing opportunities.
    Unable to watch Ryder’s smarmy attempt at compassion during childbirth, I grabbed the remote and forced the screen to black.
    “Hey!” Ashley snapped, surprised at the abrupt ending.
    “Sorry,” I semi-apologized. “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
    She chuckled. “He’s not exactly convincingly sincere, is he?”
    “No,” I agreed. “He’s much more plausible as a creepy clown.”
    “Well,” she murmured into the crickets of our silent