Willingly she gave him her taint.
His love was plausible.
But she didn't care, cause his rod weren't baint.
He looked at the writing and sighed, circling the doggeral with a bright red pen. The most talented unknown writer of her generation, the writer that was going to establish him as the best editor of his generation, was also the most difficult bitch he'd ever had to deal with. Refused to make any changes, challenged every suggestion he'd made. They'd had their share of knock down, drag out, screaming fights. Both of them reducing the other to tears and slamming doors. But the make up sex, Christ! He still felt guilty about that; their relationship was supposed to be strictly professional. While he had always fantasized about an affair with an older, more experienced woman, he had never envisioned willingly involving himself with someone so volatile. For one brief moment in their initial coupling, she was so aggressive with her tongue, that he had feared for his manhood.
He sighed again, letting his eyes wander from the manuscript towards the clock. She'd be here any minute; there was a plot hole he had to discuss with her, a point that didn't seem plausible. It was late, he was too tired to fight. Or to make up.
His reverie was cut short as he sensed a new presence in the room. She stood in the doorway, her hand gently knocking on the door. She smiled at him, a smile that always reminded him of a tiger smiling at its prey just before it ripped it to shreds. He tried to steel himself, tried to maintain the upper hand. She entered the room and sat in the chair opposite him.
"You wanted to see me?"
Even when she was being incredibly polite he always sensed an undercurrent of contempt in her voice.
"There's a problem with chapter twelve, you have Gomez doing something completely out of character. It needs to be re-written."
He saw her eyes begin to flash, her body stiffen. He rose from behind the desk and stood in front of her.
"I'm not fighting you about this. I'm your editor and I have your best interests, and the best interests of your work, at heart. You need to start trusting me on these decisions." He paused, letting his eyes fall to the floor. "You should know by now that I'd never do anything to hurt you."
He looked back up, saw her bend over and place her face in her hands. She took in a deep breath as she sat back up, looking him straight in the eye.
"It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that . . "
He saw her struggle with her emotions, was shocked to see her usually fierce exterior soften to a core of vulnerability. She let her gaze drift off to the side.
"All my life, since the time I was little, I've been told to sit down and be quiet, that no one was interested in what I had to say. When I began to write, when I began to get positive feed back on what I had to say, it was exhilarating. I felt so alive; finally I'd found my voice. So I became very protective of my words; I didn't want to ever be in a position again where no one listened to me. I know I can be difficult." She looked back at him, a small smile appearing on her lips.
"You'd be much easier to handle, darling, if you were just difficult. You're quite the pain in the ass most of the time."
She laughed, her smile widening as she rose from her chair, wrapping her arms around his waist, letting her head drop against his chest. He felt his arms automatically return the embrace. They stood together for a minute before he kissed the side of her head.
"What's a 'taint'?'
She laughed again, that slightly mocking tone returning to her voice.
"You've never heard of a 'taint'? It's an inimate part of your body, honey."
He scowled slightly.
"I've never heard it called that."
She laughed again, letting her hand slip between his legs, gently beginning to caress the smooth part of his body behind his sack. He gasped, then felt his body begin to relax, a curious mixture of arousal and calm enveloping him. He struggled to make his voice audible.
"But whys THAT called a 'taint'?"
She let her hand continue its work, her lips gently kissing the side of his throat.
"Because, it 'taint' the front, and it 'taint' the back."