DING-DONG!!! went the doorbell. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" Soleil swore, "I'll get it, I'll get it!" She walked (rather bow-legged) to the kitchen to throw away the incriminating carrot. Then to the front door. She was still stark naked.
"I wonder if she still has those pills," Melissa Joan Hart thought from the front steps, just before Soleil opened the door stark naked. Yes, Melissa thought, she still has the pills. Soleil stood there, still with her pill-induced F-cup breasts hanging gracefully from her torso, a neat patch of dark pubic hair visible.
"Oh, it's YOU," Soleil said. "Listen, I'm sorry I hit you. Come on in."
Melissa followed Soleil into her living room. "Do you always walk around the house naked?" Melissa asked.
"Well, YES, actually," said Soleil. "Especially lately." She went to the secret hiding place in the kitchen and took out the pill bottle. There were plenty left. "Here," Soleil said to Melissa, "have a pill."
"Thanks," Melissa said, swallowing the pill almost absent-mindedly. Soleil was back by the couch, smoking another freshly rolled joint. Melissa walked over. She still had HER F-cup breasts jiggling awkwardly inside the flimsy tank top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
"So what's new with you?" Soleil asked casually, very comfortable with her nudity.
"Not much," answered Melissa. "Don't bogart that joint, girlfriend. Pass the duchy on the left-hand side--WHOOOOOPS!" Melissa had made the mistake of trying to sit on Soleil's oil-covered leather couch and had just slid right off of the front of it. Soleil, already quite stoned, dissolved in hysterical laughter.
She went to the bar for a bottle of tequila. "Want some?" she said offering the bottle. MJH took a healthy shot. The two girls sat around for several minutes smoking the fine dope.
"This shit is pretty good. It's good shit," gasped Melissa.
"Yeah, for shit it isn't sh-shitty!" More hysterical laughter. "We should have gotten the writers on the show to smoke this shit--their jokes would have been funnier!" Howls, gales, of more incoherent giggling. "We could write a scene where Salem gets stoned. On catnip." Howls of giggling and a little fumbling.
"He could wear one of those Rasta caps and speak Jamaican slang! The network would shit!" They laughed until they were out of breath. Then: Melissa's head was carelessly down on Soleil's shoulder. "You're my friend. You're my friend," Melissa said to her, sleepily.
"I know, I know, you're my friend too," Soleil said, rather sternly. Melissa leaned up and kissed her. Much to Soleil's surprise, she found herself kissing back.
Melissa began giggling, her lips right up against Soleil's. "Well we might as well! We're drunk, stoned, and full of titty pills!" Both began giggling. Then quieter and quieter until their mouths locked together and Soleil fell back onto the living room floor with Melissa on top of her. Soleil began massaging Melissa's breasts. "You don't know how it FEELS to have ones like these," Soleil said.
"Mine are bigger!" Melissa said softly, taking off her top.
They began kissing each other's breasts. Soleil's hands found their way into Melissa's pants, so it seemed the most natural thing in the world to . . . take them off, and then they were both on the floor naked. Nothing could be heard from the floor for a long minute except some very soft moans. Then,
"I'm supposed to be stoned," Melissa giggled, withdrawing her face from Soleil's chest and breathing heavily. Then, completely innocently: "Have you got anything around here for me to eat?"
"Oh, baby, I do," Soleil said, pushing Melissa head down, down, down . . .
QUITE A LONG TIME LATER, said the caption. . . .
They were lying on the floor in each other's arms, very unself-consciously, as if this sort of thing happened every day. They were both still very drunk, as they had been careful to keep the buzz at its absolute peak. "Let's call Maxim. They think we secretly do this all the time, anyway, you KNOW they all thing we're secretly hot for each other!"
"We'll give them a show they'll NEVER forget!" Soleil added wickedly. The groped her way blindly across the rug to the phone: "Hello, MAXIM magazine! Get over here right away! Exclusive photo shoot! Frye and Hart!"
"Hart and Frye!" Melissa mumbled from across the room, her huge boobs heaving up and down.
"We'll work out the billing later," Soleil hissed at her. "Yes, that's right, let yourselves in. I'll leave the door open. Get here in twenty minutes or the photo-op goes to DETAILS magazine!" Soleil slammed the phone down and tried to stop her giggles by clamping a hand over her mouth.
"Do you think they'll really do it?" said Melissa.
"Not a chance, I was just goofing them and they know it," Soleil said.
"But they know our addresses already," Melissa whispered. Soleil was too busy dialing ther number of Aaron Spelling: "Hello, is this Aaron Spelling? Do you have Prince Albert in the can?" SLAM! Howls, howls of derisive laughter. Soleil crawled across the carpet to Melissa. "I'm tired. This time YOU get on top. . . ."
TIME PASSES . . .
"Did you hear something?" Soleil asks, from a sort of haze, a long way away.
"Like a clicking noise?" Melissa asks her.
"Like a camera going off?" Soleil says.
"A LOT of cameras," Melissa says, from a long way away.
"I am SOOOO fucking stoned!" Soleil says. "Eat my pussy." Giggling. More giggling. More giggling. CLICK! CLICK! CLICK-CLICK-CLICK! CLICK-CLICK-CLICK! . . . .
Wed Nov 29 16:15:15 2000