You stare blankly at him, wondering why he's telling you that, but after the day you've had your brain is fried. "Fine by me. If it takes longer to get it right..." you shrug, and a huge grin overtakes your face. Your first real job!
Vaguely you know the black man's face had turned into a grin as big as yours, which probably means it's his first gig too. Oh well, that might mean a bunch of retakes, but at least you'll get on film eventually.
Sauntering out of the building you have an extra wiggle to your step, brought on by the sexy situation you'd just been in, no doubt, or the thrill of success. You're conscious of men watching you and then of a hot feeling between your legs. "Good thing cured leather doesn't shrink when wet," you mutter, giggling at the thought.
Flagging down a taxi you head home to your apartment, thoughts of celebration in your mind. Should you stay in and celebrate with drinks or a movie? Celebrate with some friends, or maybe even find a club to let out some of the excitement? On the other hand, maybe you should play it tame, stay home and make sure you get all the sleep you need for tomorrow. |