Loud Sexy Noises *

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MEDIA IS IVY LYNN

I sway my hips to the music circling through my apartment and smile to myself . The beat left me with a light feathery feeling. My shirt grazed the tops of my thighs as I continued to let my hips take over as I stir the noodle soup.

I waved the steam towards my face and smiled, feeling a grate deal of satisfaction. I heard the door open and I smiled as I looked back. "Hello my love." I called over my shoulder. Aubrie walked over and slapped my butt playfully.  "Well aren't you a sight for soar eyes missy." I smile and the music ends and changes to a more upbeat tempo.

I smell the soup one last time and reach up on my tippy toes and grab a cool pot to put the soup in. I pull my shirt back down over my panties and put my hair up. "Aubrieeee, do you love meee?" I call out. She appears in the kitchen with a raised eyebrow, her hand resting against the door way. "What do you need?" 

I smile and place a puppy face on, "Can you grab a pair of pants out of my room. I need to run this down the hall." She nods, rolling her eyes in playful annoyance, and walks off. I smile and quickly place the soup in the decorative pot and cut off the stove.

Aubrie walks back in and flings a pair of jeans at me. "I'm ordering food from Ling-Ling's." I nod and grab my wallet off the counter. "You know what I want. You can use my card since you paid last time." She nods and I walk in the living room to slip my sandals on. I brush back the stray hairs I missed and glance over at Aubrie who is holding her finger up signaling for me to wait.

I grab the pot and sit it on the stand beside the door waiting as she orders. She finished the order and I raise my brows in confusion. "What's up?" I ask and she stands up and takes her coat off. "You might want to wait. There was camera crew all over the place out there earlier." I shrug and sigh, grabbing  the pot.  "I'm not relevant so I think they'll leave me alone." She chuckles and walks off probably to change in her room. Her being a tattoo artist made her worn out most of the time. Between the pricks and the immature people she was kept on her toes.

I was out the door and looked around cautiously. No camera men. Hmm. Okay, I'm cool with that. I grab the soup securely and close the door with my foot and walk two doors down. I knock softly and here the sound of Ms.Truman's squeaking wheelchair on the other side.  She opens the door slowly and her old, tired face lights up. She smiles and I watch as her body trembles when she moves the door out some more. "How are you today Ms.Truman?" She snorts and chuckles moving out the way. "As well as an old bag can Missy."

I chuckle and walk in and sit the soup in her kitchen. "I brought some soup to help with that cold of yours. Have you been doing like I asked?" She nodded and motioned to her unkempt bed. "I've been resting up plenty. " I smile and grab a mug from her cabinet. "Would you like some soup? It is still warm, I made it from scratch." She nods and grabs a beer from the fridge. I roll my eyes and shake my head. "No need ma'am. You save that for someone else." I say genuinely and she shrugs and puts it back.

She was the type of old person I knew that never has drank a beer in her life but would still keep it in the fridge for "hard working fellows". The women was made of pure gold and I loved her to death.

I poured her the cup of soup and  grabbed a spoon. "So what story would like to hear about today." She looked all across my body and her eyes landed on a fallen angel on my shin. The dark ink contrasted with my pale skin and I smiled. "That was my second tattoo."

I started, I remember the exact day I got it. "This was to represent my grandpa. He got me listening to rock and roll when I was little. It started simple then my taste started to bloom. We would always bond over music. He was the one that gave me the courage to start singing and playing guitar. I will never forget the first song he ever showed me. Led Zeppelin ,Stairway to Heaven . He said 'Child. If you don't like them imma need you to get head scan. Cause there better than a prostitute named Mary Jane.' Later on I found out that was the name of his first  wife." I chuckled and she  accidentally spit some of her soup out.

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