My ex-girlfriend has a crush on James Franco. She’s not the only person who does, I know, but that didn’t make it any less annoying when we were dating. Because anytime James Franco would pop up on the television or we’d pass his image on a billboard or cover of a magazine, my ex would giggle. A grown woman giggling.
“I’m sorry,” she’d say for my benefit, then attempt to contort her mouth out of a smile. Her face neutral, it would still take a minute for the freckles on her cheeks to stop glowing.
Although she never outright told me her James Franco fantasy—we didn’t have that kind of openness in our relationship—I knew what it was. Because I know what the “James Franco fantasy” is—it’s every woman’s fantasy. (Sure, there are slight variations here and there, depending on the gal, but it’s more or less the same.)
My ex has had her typical long day at the office. It’s late when she gets to our front door. Will she be able to make it to the last yoga class of the night?
She opens the door and sees James Franco lying naked on our couch…with his head in my lap.
I’m running my fingers through his hair.
I shoosh her.
James Franco is sleeping.
But I’ll wake him for her sake.
Did you know that James Franco can only be woken up with kisses?
I bend so that my mouth meets his lips.
Like a baby responding to a nipple, James Franco responds to my lips.
I feed him kisses.
I feed my ex’s deepest desires.
I bend James Franco over the arm of the couch and proceed to do indescribable violence to his asshole.
My ex’s freckles are aglow.
I don’t stop, until James Franco bleeds out…
Hey, it’s not my fantasy. Typical girl stuff. Does he always have to bleed out, ladies? Really? So annoying.
I’m happy we never got to play that fantasy out. Because after the breakup, I know I would have been stuck with that couch.