Love’s Gamble

Chapter 6

The alcohol was starting to have a real effect on them now. They were starting to act properly drunk and it would have been a rather funny sight for anyone that would have watched as an objective observer.

“You know what?” Freema slurred. “I am tired of these long TV shows. A show should last about twenty episodes and be done with it. I mean, has any show stayed good after the fourth or fifth season? I don’t think so!”

“I know!” said Ken, dragging out the long word in order to underscore the vehemence with which he was agreeing with the point that Freema had raised. “There is no art anymore, all TV shows are just ways to earn money. I mean, if you want to make a good show you focus on the plot and try to tell a decent story, you do not fill it up with frivolous sh*t, you do not turn it into the garbage that we see on television today.”

“Finally someone agrees with me,” said Freema. “I have been saying this for so long and yet nobody seems to agree with me. They all think that I am insane or something, that I do not know what I am talking about. I am sick and tired of people that settle for the same old recycled garbage.”

“It’s all the same,” said Ken. “It’s all the same everywhere. There are no good movies anymore. People just make adaptations of comic books or novels or TV shows! There is nothing original left to watch and it is so frustrating because I grew up watching all of these amazing movies that were shot so well.”

“Me too,” said Freema. “I still remember the first time I watched The Usual Suspects. What an amazing movie that was! And completely original. You do not get stuff like that anymore. All you get is the recycled garbage that they know the masses are going to buy into. I am so done with all of this crap.”

“I wish I could make a movie,” slurred Ken. “I have a feeling that I would be good at it.”

Freema sputtered and laughed and said, “You do not know the first thing about making movies.”

“I do too!” said Ken. “Okay, maybe I don’t. But it is never too late to learn!”

“That’s the spirit,” said Freema with a wide smile. She gave Ken a look of admiration. Pretty soon it became a look of adoration. And then, before she even knew what was happening, she started kissing him hard on the lips. He moaned as he felt their lips make contact and he ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her back.

Freema got on top of him and straddled him as she kissed him. Ken ran his hands up her silky thighs, enjoying the smoothness of them. He looked at her as she pulled away, and they were both gasping. “What was that?” he gasped. It was a rhetorical question, Freema knew. She had just blown his mind, and she noted this fact with no small amount of satisfaction.

She chuckled and said, “That was a kiss. Ever have one of those before?”

Ken chuckled back and said, “I most certainly have. I have just never been kissed quite like that before.”

Freema brought her lips closer to Ken’s ear and said, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“I mean that kiss was fu*king amazing!” said Ken. “It blew me away. God damn, I have never been kissed like that before.”

Freema loved how alcohol loosened Ken up. She loved how this mild mannered gentleman was completely confident about absolutely everything now that he was too inebriated to remember to be self conscious. He was himself right now. He was Ken Ahn, earnest, kind, gentle and excitable Ken Ahn in all his glory and Freema wanted to taste him. He was the person he hid under all of those insecurities and Freema really liked what she was looking at. She wanted more, so she gently pressed her lips to his again and enjoyed the flavor of his mouth.

There was a sweetness in Ken’s lips that Freema absolutely adored. It was the sort of sweetness that fit in with the rest of his personality. In a lot of ways, Ken’s kisses were reflections of Ken himself. They were aspects of him just like his voice and his touch and his gaze and his inability to take his anger out on anybody but himself. His kisses represented absolutely everything good about him, and Freema was starting to understand why she felt so strongly about this man. There is only so much one can do when one is faced with the kind of person that simply can’t help but be this sweet.

“You want to come back to my place?” Freema whispered in Ken’s ear. Ken nodded, looking at her with a look of such intense vulnerability that it was like a palm clenching around her heart and sending her into a fit of intense emotion. She was not used to feeling this way, but she did not care at all. It was better than the void that she had to come to see as normal. It was better than the vacuum that had been her soul not all that long ago. She wanted to feel, she wanted to feel with Ken, and she was desperate to have him inside her. She was starting to see what she had been missing out on for so long. She did not stop to think that she was starting to get really emotionally invested a little too soon. Such things were not for her to think of right now. All she wanted in this moment was Ken’s lips on hers, Ken’s co*k inside her. All she wanted was to feel his touch and know that she was the one that he wanted to touch, that she alone brought fourth this intense desire from within him.

They got up and Freema led Ken out of the restaurant. Ken, unlike Freema, did have a driver’s license at the moment so he drove them to her place. They were drunk, they should not have driven, but people that were feeling such intense emotions were rarely rational. Such emotions take hold of you, they take over you, they make it so that the only thing you can possibly feel is this, the most extreme form of passion that there is.

They entered Freema’s apartment. It was a dump, to put it mildly. It was not well decorated, it was drab, and it was fairly dirty because Freema was too lazy to properly clean up. She had wanted to clean up in case Ken ended up coming over, but she had not had the time. Or rather, she had been simply too lazy to actually take the time out to clean her place, and she really regretted it now. She turned to look at Ken. He was looking around. He did not look particularly disgusted or anything like that. Instead, he was looking at the apartment with vague interest. He gave it no more than a cursory glance. He then looked at her and smiled, and it was the most beautiful smile that Freema had ever seen.