The Massage

Scene: Clemmy goes to Jude’s apartment to give him a massage. He is still floating in his Xanax dream when she arrives. She is wearing a robe to hide the clothes underneath so it will be a surprise.

Clemmy walked in to Jude’s apartment and he greeted her with a languid, sloppy hug.

“Wow, those pills really seem to be working. Now take your shirt off, lay on the coffee table because I’m about to blow your mind,” she said.

From her gingham bag, Clemmy pulled out four patchouli candles, patchouli massage oil and her cassette player. With Jude laying face down on the coffee table she lit the candles, dropped her robe to the ground and pushed “play” on the cassette.

Thelonious Monk live in Paris 1967 filled the air as she dimmed the lights.

She dripped the patchouli massage oil on the middle of Jude’s upper back and whispered into his ear:

“Just relax my sweet Jude. Picture yourself riding your fixed-gear bike alone on the beach as the waves gently splash the shore while I await you with a vegan Kale shake.”

Jude let out a soft moan as he began to sink into the coffee table like it was luxurious Marriott hotel pillow.

Clemmy began to rub aggressively up and down Jude’s patchy-haired back, blowing into his ears with each swipe. His moans became louder and he began to slip into another Xanax induced dream.

Clemmy decided the time was right for her to pull off her move of seduction. She was wearing the same shorts with the pocket missing that she wore on that fateful night. The same shorts that entranced Billy Emo.

She gently took Jude’s hand and placed it on her exposed butt cheek. She started gently rubbing his hand up and down her butt cheek and delivered her own subtle moans.

Then suddenly Jude jumped up from the table, knocking one of the patchouli candles to the floor beneath the table.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you seriously wearing those shorts????” Jude screamed at her.

Clemmy’s eyes sank in despair and her heart fell to the floor.

“I thought you would love it. I thought this would totally turn you on,” as tears began to fill her eyes.

“Yeah, your butt is incredible, but all I can picture is that fucking Billy Emo. You have to burn those shorts, you have to burn them. If you don’t burn them, I’m not sure we can go on.”

Amazingly, Jude’s hipster pride enabled him to snap out of his Xanax haze and he was now immune to the pill’s wondrous effects.

“Look baby, you will always be my patchouli muse. But damn, you have to have a little more sense than that. Those shorts, although sexy, were part of the worst night of my life. THE WORST NIGHT EVER. I mean shit, I lost my beard that night and Billy Emo ended up winning,” Jude said angrily.

Clemmy looked at him without saying a word, blew him a kiss and walked out of his apartment without looking back.

Jude reached out as if to try and stop her, but it was too late.

This hip-fatuation was suddenly in a state of questionable flux.


8 thoughts on “The Massage

  1. Pingback: 50 shades of Billy Emo | HipsterStories

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  3. Pingback: 50 Shades of Billy Emo – The Florida Writer

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