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That was just about as enjoyable as any of my sexual encounters thus far in life: over quickly and a lot unsatisfying. No wonder I spent all my time fantasizing about sex with guys I had no chance with. It was safer than being disappointed with the real thing, at least.
Of course, that kiss with Jamie earlier had been anything but a disappointment. It had felt right. Like finally, I was with a man I was supposed to be with, feeling that rush of passion that was just going to get better and better, and how fucked up was that?
With a sigh, I set my ramen cup aside, and picked up my phone and stared at it, telling myself not to, absolutely not to read Ellis’s sexts, but it only took a minute before I caved. I was already miserable, about to be evicted from my apartment miserable, just kissed my neighbor before I was publicly humiliated in front of him and he walked into his apartment with out a backward glance because he didn’t give a shit kind of miserable.
Even though reading Ellis’s sexts to another person would probably make me more miserable in the end since they weren’t to me, I was clearly a glutton for punishment.
I opened the text thread and read text after dirty text, but to my surprise, this time they did nothing for me. It was like my mind and body had finally shut down to the point that nothing could ever make me feel again, so I simply read the texts with clinical objectivity.
Hard cock.
Heaving breasts and pierced nipples.
Lots of licking and sucking and the occasional bite here or there.
Yada yada yada.
I wasn’t even done reading and was about to close the window, that’s how out of it I was, when two words caught my eye.
ELLIS: ...sex study…
That jolted me out of my malaise.
Sex study? What the hell was a sex study?
Ellis had posted a link so I clicked on it.
It led me to a page advertising a study through a nearby university. I skimmed for the most relevant information.
The study involved sex between one girl andthreeguys. Three guysat the same time.The scientists wanted a foursome to identify and articulate the innate societal constraints and comprehensions of blah blah blah.
The words that really caught my attention were: $32,000, which meant $8,000 per participant.
Eight thousanddollars? To be studied while having sex?
Could I do it?
Obviously I’m not doing well financially given I’d been kicked out of my gym and just got served with an eviction notice. I had loans from UCLA, too, and a maxed-out credit card. Temping did not pay the bills the way I’d once hoped, especially after my long term job ended so abruptly, but part of me still hoped to become an actress one day, and temping gave me the most flexibility when it came to auditions (even if Ihadn't actually gone to one in a while).
Needless to say, I could definitely use 8K.
Ellis would lend me the money to get another apartment if I needed it, but while I’d borrowed money here and there from him, I'd hated doing it. I certainly wasn’t going to borrow the kind of cash I'd need to get into a new place. No, the best thing to do would be to move back in with my parents. But that meant leaving L.A. Giving up my acting dream completely.
And I wasn’t quite ready to do that.
The sex study could get me the cash I needed.
But almost as soon as I considered the possibility of participating in the study, I dismissed it.
Yeah right. Me, in a sex study?
I couldn’t even go to my acting audition earlier. The one I was supposed to have gone to instead of the gym.
So yeah, I definitely wasn’t the kind of girl who could have sex with three guys. Perform naked with three penises? Hell, I wanted to be an actress and I couldn’t even perform in front of a casting director.
I set my phone down in disgust.
I considered spending the next few hours searching for more auditions to spend hours preparing for, to then spend hours traveling on five different buses to get to, before finally deciding I’m not going to go inside. Again. But I easily convinced myself against it with the excuse that I’d never be able to concentrate with the racket of my neighbor’s drumming.
