Chapter 138: I Swear by the Lamp
Chapter 138: I Swear by the Lamp
After giving Eric the cold shoulder, Aniston leaned against the back of the door triumphantly, waiting for him to knock again. Meanwhile, she turned over in her mind how she should mock and satirize him. Yes, she absolutely must not give him a pleasant face tonight. As for whether she would let him stay overnight, that... would depend on his performance.
The young lady was thinking randomly when, after waiting for two or three minutes, there was actually no longer any movement outside the door.
"Hmph, he must be playing some kind of trick. Don't even think I'll fall for it."
Although she mumbled this in a low voice, Aniston couldn't help but peer through the peephole to look outside. The sound-activated light in the hallway had already turned off, leaving a cavern of pitch-black darkness outside.
Detestable guy, he must be hiding in the darkness waiting for her to open the door on her own initiative. Although this thought popped into Aniston's head, an uneasiness gradually crept into her heart. Finally, after waiting for five minutes, the young lady still couldn't resist opening the door by a sliver to look out. At the same time, she stamped her foot to jar the sound-activated hallway light awake. Restrained by the security chain, however, Aniston could only manage a narrow field of view. There was nothing at all in the empty hallway, and the silence was irritatingly disorienting.
Unfastening the pin of the security chain, Aniston opened the door and stepped out.
A familiar voice let out a low chuckle to the right of the door frame, a pair of large hands lunged forward, and in the next instant, Aniston was slung over a shoulder by her waist.
"Ah!" Although she realized who had ambushed her, Aniston still cried out in alarm, thrashing against Eric's shoulder.
"You bastard, hooligan, scoundrel, help!"
Eric held the lady tightly as he walked into the apartment, turned around to shut the door, and raised his hand to deliver a slap to her pert bottom.
Slap—
Pain radiated from her backside, leaving Aniston both shamed and infuriated. Her body writhed even more fiercely. "It hurts, you jerk! Hurry up and put me down."
Another slap followed, much lighter than the last. Moreover, after the strike, his large hand lingered there, kneading and squeezing unceremoniously a few times. At the same time, Eric's voice rang out, "Baby, stop shouting. If you keep shouting, the neighbors will call the police."
Aniston pounded Eric's back hard a few times. "Who gave you permission to come in? This is, this is... breaking and entering."
"Wow, what a massive charge. You won't take a gun and blow my brains out, will you?" Eric joked as he placed Aniston onto the living room sofa. Having regained her freedom, the young lady immediately snatched up a throw pillow, sat cross-legged on the sofa, and glared furiously at Eric.
Eric walked to the refrigerator on his own accord, flung open the door to glance inside, and smiled as he retrieved a can of beer, lifting it to brandish it toward Aniston. The young lady immediately turned her head away in an affectedly proud manner, defending herself, "It... it wasn't prepared for you at all. I bought it to drink myself."
"Tsk, tsk," Eric sat down on the sofa opposite Aniston noncommittally. He popped the tab, took a few gulps, and smacked his lips, saying, "Mmh, the taste of beer seasoned with love is truly excellent."
"Hmph, now that the beer is finished, you can leave. I still need to sleep." Just as she spoke, a thud-thud knocking sound echoed, and a man's voice rang out from beyond the door, "Ms. Aniston, are you alright?"
Both individuals inside the room froze. Aniston was the first to react. "We woke up the neighbors."
"The one shouting and screaming at the top of her lungs was you, right?" Eric rubbed his nose, countering her.
"That's your fault too," the young lady said, standing up to walk toward the entrance. Eric followed behind her. Opening the door, a middle-aged man and woman stood outside. The man held a baseball bat, while the woman wielded a shotgun. The two stood at the threshold with wary expressions. Only when they saw Aniston open the door completely unharmed did their countenances relax a fraction.
"Ms. Aniston, we heard you crying for help..." The middle-aged man looked at the tall Eric standing behind the young lady, a look of vigilance surfacing in his eyes.
Aniston smiled and opened the door wider, looping her arm through Eric's to strike an intimate pose as she explained, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Bateman, for disturbing you both. I... my boyfriend was just playing a joke on me and gave me a fright."
"Hello, Mr. Bateman. I'm Eric. Apologies for disturbing you both." Eric proactively extended his hand to shake hands with the two of them.
"It's quite alright," Mr. Bateman shook Eric's hand and chatted casually for a few words. Declining Aniston and Eric's invitation to come inside for a cup of coffee, he left with his wife.
The moment the door clicked shut, Aniston instantly released Eric's arm and returned to the sofa. Eric followed and sat beside the young lady, pulling her into his arms. The young lady offered a token resistance for a couple of movements before leaning into Eric's shoulder.
"Janie, have you been in contact with your dad lately?"
The girl lifted her head slightly. "Yes, I have. Why ask about that?"
"What has John been up to recently?" Eric didn't answer right away, posing a counter-question instead.
"I'm not particularly clear on that," Aniston twiddled her fingers, saying, "I just know he's been performing in Days of Our Lives these past few years."
"In that case, help me ask your dad to see if he has any interest in concurrently serving as a producer for a television series."
Aniston was somewhat puzzled. "A TV series?"
"It's that television series we discussed before—the one where you'll be playing a role," Eric explained to Aniston in detail.
"You mean, letting my dad be the producer for Friends?"
Eric nodded. "Jeffrey isn't skilled in this area, and we can't find anyone trustworthy for the time being. Furthermore, I don't want Fox to meddle in this television series, so I thought of your dad."
The young lady immediately became displeased. So this guy hadn't rushed over specifically to see her after all. This was... truly detestable. Breaking away from Eric's embrace, she asked unsatisfactorily, "You ran over here tonight... just for this matter?"
Eric hurriedly pulled the young lady back into his arms. "Of course not. I missed you, so I came over."
With that, without waiting for the young lady to flare up, Eric pressed down onto her crimson lips for a kiss.
"Mmh... you're not allowed to do this, I haven't... mmh..."
Aniston made muffled whimpers, wanting to push Eric away, only to discover that not only had his tongue invaded her small mouth, but his large hand had also flipped up the hem of her nightshirt, sliding up along her smooth skin toward her chest.
His palm quickly covered her warm, soft breast. Following a few expert strokes, Aniston's body trembled slightly, and she quickly went limp. Taking advantage of the momentum, Eric pinned the young lady down onto the sofa.
After a protracted, deep kiss, Eric glanced at the young lady who was left with glazed eyes and flashed a smile. This smile appeared exceptionally detestable to Aniston, so she couldn't resist reaching over to pinch Eric's leg hard.
"Ah! That was a brutal pinch. Watch how I deal with you." Eric cried out in pain. He seized the girl's disobedient hands to pin them above her head, yanked her nightshirt up, and stripped it down from over her head. Her braless upper body was exposed directly in front of Eric. The small pink buds had already erected from the stimulation just now.
The night temperature in April in Los Angeles was only around fourteen or fifteen degrees. Feeling the chill against her chest, Aniston reflexively withdrew her arms to cover the pair of full mounds before her. Her voice turned somewhat soft, "Eric, shall we go to the bedroom?"
"No. I'm very angry, so I want to deal with you right here on the sofa." As Eric spoke, he backed away a fraction, gathered up the girl's legs, and stripped off her pajama pants along with the small scrap of lace fabric inside. A pristine, tender little lamb was completely revealed before him.
Once stripped bare, Aniston quickly curled her body into a ball on the sofa like a cat, protesting, "The one who should be angry is me! You bastard, you still haven't apologized to me for what happened that day. And... and besides, you arranged a movie for that big-breasted woman, yet you make me act in a TV series—talk about favoritism!"
Eric smiled without answering. Aniston knew perfectly well in her heart that if she were to speak up and demand to star in a movie, Eric would definitely voice his agreement. Saying it at this time was more akin to pillow-talk coddling. Ignoring the complaining young lady, Eric stood up and began shedding his own clothes.
A moment later, Aniston, who was curled on the sofa, felt his burning body touch her icy skin. Instantly, she felt an impulse to lean into him. Lifting her eyes to look, she happened to catch sight of that head-bobbing thing between Eric's legs. Although she wasn't so embarrassed as to cover her face, she still let out a soft spit.
Kneeling on the sofa, Eric scooped up a pair of the young lady's long legs to caress and play with them against his chest for a while before parting them over his shoulders and driving forward.
"It seems... a bit dry." The man muttered this under his breath. The thing that had entered a fraction withdrew from the canal once more, rubbing against the two mounds of soft flesh. The young lady, who had been biting her finger ready to enjoy herself, instantly opened her eyes wide, her face flushing crimson. Withdrawing one long leg draped over Eric's shoulder, she used her small foot to slap against Eric's chest with rapid patter-patter strikes. "Bastard, bastard, bastard..."
After venting her anger for a few strikes, the young lady panted and covered her face, explaining in a small voice, "The living room is a bit cold, I... I don't feel it. I already told you to go to the bedroom!"
"It's fine. It'll warm up after moving around for a bit." As Eric spoke, he drove inward with power from his waist. Aniston felt herself instantaneously filled to the brim. Reflexively arching her flat abdomen, she adopted an accommodating posture, while her legs trembled slightly. "You've... you've hit the bottom! Don't... don't go any deeper."
"Don't worry, I know what to do," Eric answered, supporting the girl's waist as he began moving rapidly.
The young lady sucked in a sharp breath from time to time with Eric's movements, chiding, "You bastard, you don't know what you're doing at all. You... ha... you only care about your own comfort."
An unknown amount of time passed before the intense exercise in the living room slowed down. Aniston's entire body lay limp on the sofa, covered from head to toe in fine beads of sweat. Her body wouldn't stop trembling, yet she lacked even a shred of strength to halt Eric's unceasing movements. Her two long legs were draped limply over the man's shoulders.
"Any more and I'll die," like a fish out of water, she gasped deeply a few times before the young lady lifted her head slightly, looking imploringly at Eric, who was similarly drenched in sweat.
The night breeze from the balcony poured into the living room, making Eric feel a bit chilled all over. Looking back at the girl beneath him, a layer of goosebumps had already broken out over her fair skin. Understanding that continuing like this would likely cause her to catch a cold, he came to a temporary halt. He picked up the girl and walked toward the bathroom. After filling it with warm water, the two held each other as they sat into the bathtub.
The satisfied young lady leaned against Eric's chest, enjoying the soaking warmth of the water currents. Her eyes narrowed gently, so comfortable she merely wanted to cry out—if... if she weren't being continuously prodded by that thing behind her, everything would be even more perfect.
Eric applied body wash for the two of them, brushing across the girl's slick body. Looking at the young lady's appearance, he teased, "You're all done, but my engine hasn't cut out yet."
"Mmh... I don't care, resolve it yourself," the young lady soaked comfortably in the warm water, too lazy to even lift her eyelids.
Eric caressed that pair of soft mounds, rubbing the small buds on top as he smiled. "Don't tell me nobody taught you when you were in school that whatever you do, you must carry it through from beginning to end?"
"No, I only remember a story about George Washington and the cherry tree, teaching us to be honest individuals. Before I even had the chance to practice it, that detestable guy who was my desk mate told me there was no cherry tree in Washington's backyard at all, and that the textbooks were all full of lies."
"Alright," Eric smiled, "but the textbook's starting point was still good."
"Educating others by means of deception—it's too ironic. After that, I never had any interest in studying again. I didn't want to look back after growing up only to discover that the education I received was entirely fake—no cherry tree, Edison never saved his mother, Newton was never hit by an apple..."
"I see," Eric nodded.
The young lady lifted her chin. "What do you see?"
Eric gently pinched the small bud in his hand, smiling, "I see that you want to change the subject. Rest assured, young lady, you aren't escaping tonight."
"I want to go to sleep!" Aniston suddenly wanted to stand up, but she was hauled right back by Eric. "Wanting to run? Not a chance."
"It's swollen, it's all swollen!" Aniston waved her arms, screaming as she tried to break free from Eric's embrace.
Eric felt her slick bottom flesh rubbing against his little brother in the water, revealing a wicked grin. "Perfect, there's water here to act as lubrication."
"Mmh, ah?" Before Aniston could react, she was pinned face-down against the edge of the bathtub by Eric. She immediately protested, "It's swollen! This... this position won't do, it's too deep."
"It'll definitely be fine," Eric grinned wickedly, applying a fraction of force to pin the young lady's waist down. He aimed the water-drenched thing into position. Before Aniston had much time to react, he breached the gateway and drove straight through.
"Ooh-wah! Eric Williams, I'm going to kill you!"
"Janie?"
"Get lost!"
"Baby..."
"Don't touch me."
"Let's... apply some ointment."
"Woo, why didn't you just finish me off instead, you bastard."
"I didn't know it would turn out like this either. Before when we were in... uh, it was fine."
"Get lost! Go play with that big-breasted woman's backside, you pervert. I want to break up with you."
"Be good. Once I finish applying the ointment, I'll get lost."
Inside the bedroom, Aniston lay face-down on the bed with a blanket draped over her body, appearing to wear nothing underneath. Eric held a medicine box as he crouched beside the young lady, speaking in an apologetic, coaxing tone.
The young lady finally stopped speaking, shifting her body a fraction. Eric knew that the girl making this posture was equivalent to tacit approval. He hurriedly unscrewed the ointment in the box and lifted the bedsheet off Aniston's back. The young lady buried her head even deeper.
Having finished applying the ointment to the girl with an incomparable degree of awkwardness, Eric considerately pulled the thin blanket up for the young lady before walking to the bathroom to wash his hands. Walking back out, he glanced at the alarm clock on the girl's nightstand; it was already past one in the morning. Eric silently walked to Aniston's bedside, turned off the light, lay down beside the girl, and gently pulled over the blanket to cover himself.
In the darkness, after a long silence, the young lady's low voice finally sounded, "Eric, you're never allowed to do this again."
"Mmh, I promise I won't."
Following the brief dialogue was another period of silence. A moment later, a rustling sound echoed, and the girl's body edged closer.
"Janie, you... had best sleep face-down tonight."
"Mmh..." the young lady gave an approving grunt without halting her movements. Wiggling to Eric's side like a fish, she quickly rubbed against Eric's body, taking a sharp bite against the man's chest, and said, "I want to sleep on top of you."
"No problem," Eric smiled as he encircled the girl's smooth waist, feeling a fragrant body covering his own—soft and warm.
A moment later, the girl's hot breath surfaced against his chest, "Eric?"
"Mmh?"
The young lady's tone held a trace of embarrassment, yet carried an intense curiosity, "Is doing it... doing it that way very comfortable?"
"This," Eric was so embarrassed he didn't know how to phrase it well. He truly didn't want to discuss this topic anymore. After a hesitation, he said, "I suppose so—a kind of... very alternative sensation."
The young lady remained relentless, "Do they... can they actually bear it?"
Eric caressed the girl's smooth back, saying seriously, "There is absolutely no 'they.' There has only been one."
Aniston gave him a light strike. "I'd be crazy to believe you."
In the darkness, Eric waved his arm. "I swear by the lamp!"
"The lamp is off right now."
"Alright, hurry up and sleep. I have to wake up early tomorrow; the crew starts filming at eight o'clock."
"Then what about me? You're just going to abandon me here like this?" The young lady took another bite against Eric's chest, calling him to account.
"It should be fine by tomorrow, right? It isn't some major injury."
Then his chest was bitten once more—this time quite viciously. He didn't know if it had drawn blood.
Rubbing the teeth marks on his chest, Eric thought for a moment and said, "How about I find someone to come take care of you?"
Aniston, who was lying on top of him, hurriedly shook her head. "That's completely mortifying! If anyone finds out, I'll break up with you."
Eric could only withdraw this thought. After thinking it over, he spoke up once more, "Alright, then I will try my best to personally prepare your three meals a day and make every effort to rush over during noon. Janie, delaying the crew by a single day consumes at least over a hundred thousand dollars; I cannot halt production."
"Mmh," the young lady finally gave a satisfied grunt. Shifting her body, she found an even more comfortable position on top of Eric and slowly drifted off to sleep.