A shy reference librarian, and a college student who was disowned when she refused to submit to conversion therapy, meet in a bookstore. He's been waiting his whole life for her. Meanwhile, she's starting her whole life over. What ensues between the...
Our first real date in months - he took me to see The Addams Family, which just came out this weekend. I am enthralled. This is perfect, absolutely perfect.
We are snuggled up against each other, at least, as far as we are able to around the armrests. I wish they were the kind that could be lifted out of the way, but the seats, while well-cushioned, lack certain conveniences and comforts, movable armrests being one of them. We press as close together as we can, though.
A large tub of buttered popcorn sits between us. I've been gorging myself on it.
So, Gomez was a desperate, howling demon in the night when he was making love to Morticia, was he?
"I wonder if I could make you howl like a demon?" I murmur.
"I think I'll leave you wondering on that count," he replies.
I nestle in closer; he tries to wrap his arm around me, but it doesn't work very well around the seats, so we settle for bumping up against each other. I stroke his shoulder with my right hand, brushing my face against my wrist so that I can feel the black silk scarf he gave me caress my cheek. The favor of his love.
Next weekend is Thanksgiving. Four days of weekend, rather than two. Four whole days of food. Roast turkey. He's having me handle the turkey, although he's doing all the side dishes. He says roast fowl is a fairly easy dish to learn cooking technique from. I'm a little nervous about the possibility of botching the main course of our holiday dinner, but my mouth waters at the thought of eating turkey.
Gomez is fencing with Tully now. I've always wanted to learn how to fence.
Magister reaches into the bucket, fishes out a couple of pieces of popcorn, and holds them to my lips. I nibble the proffered popcorn and then suck the butter from his fingers. Slowly, I run the tip of my tongue along the tip of his index finger, then take the finger into my mouth and fellate it. I hear his breath quicken, and I smile.
We scream with laughter at Wednesday's expression as she electrocutes her brother, and at what she thought their little "game" ought to be called. The people sitting immediately next to us give us strange looks and seem to shrink away from us. That might be the wisest course of action, all things considered.
Now Gomez has Fester in a headlock and chokehold. Fester is pleading for mercy.
He apparently forgot the secret "password."
"Uh oh! Bad thing to forget!" I mutter. Password? Safeword is what Gomez and Fester are talking about here, and we both know it.
We snicker.
How can the people in the theater not get it? Are they blind?
They must be blind.
We clutch at each other, alternately howling with laughter and wiping tears of mirth from our faces. The jokes in this movie really only make sense if you're a complete pervert. Otherwise, they're just gratuitously weird.
The movie is about us.
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