Happy Saturday, weekend warriors. Hope your day has been as productive as mine.
There's something about writing a sex scene that gets me all worked up. The language of love sets the heart aflutter. Gets the heart racing. Aroused. Hot and bothered.
Hold on a sec.
(Inhales. Blows a smoke ring.)
Okay. I'm back.
Onto today's scene. Where we last left Robbery/Homicide detectives Bobby Ruff and Taya Ralls, they left Chez Jay after pounding 151 rum shots for a little roll in the hay.
Ladies and gentlemen, let the games begin ...
EXT. PICO BOULEVARD - SLEAZY MOTEL - AT THAT MOMENT
‘The International.’ Flags from around the world
painted on a cinder block bunker.
Behind a gas station in The Hood.
Bobby and Taya’s car is parked at the end of the gravel lot.
INT. - MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Bobby lies on top of Taya on a giant heart-shaped bed.
PUMPING away. Taya MOANS in ecstacy.
That’s it, FUCK ME, white boy!
You like it, don’t you, BROWN SUGAR?
Who’s your daddy NOW?!
FUCK me, DADDY -- ride me, HARD.
I’m gonna SHOOT MY LOAD.
GOD, YES -- YES --
Dropping LOADS --
Fill me UP, BABY --
FUCK ME baby JESUS!
They climax in an earth-shattering crescendo of pleasure.
Hold each other for dear life.
SCREAMING with passion.
He rolls off her. Leans over. Lights a smoke.
(out of breath)
I haven’t come like that --
Light me one too?
He does. Hands it to her.
She takes a puff. Thinking.
What the fuck is Brown Sugar?
Rolling Stones song.
You don’t know it?
It’s a compliment. Trust me.
I’m no schoolboy, but I know what I like.
He looks at her. Shy. Eyes full of wonder.
I’ve never done -- sex talk like that before.
You mean the racial stereotype stuff?
If you’re good, next time I’ll let you use the N-word.
Fuck me baby Jesus?
(looks at her)
Guilt makes me hard.
Bobby’s cell phone rings.
He reaches over, grabs it.
(into the phone)
You’re shitting me.
Of course, sure.
We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
Uh -- we were just -- grabbing a bite to eat.
A woman’s voices SHRIEKS from the room next door.
A bullwhip CRACKS. Another SCREAM.
Of course not, no.
Food’s really spicy.
Yeah, right. In your hat. See you soon.
He hangs up. LEAPS out of bed.
That was the chief. Great news.
One of the bills from the bank
was spent at Venice Beach.
Yeah. Amateur hour.
Pros know not to take what’s in the drawer.
(starts getting dressed)
So we got ourselves some cowboys.
(pulls on his jeans)
Yeah, and unfortunately,
those are the most dangerous kind.
(snaps on her shoulder holster)
Then let’s wrastle us some varmits --
(slides in her gun, wicked smile)
And then we can do some more ropin’ and ridin.’