Drop #54: Attack

‘Oh my God, who was that?’

We were eating on the sidewalk at Moonie’s even though it was way too cold for that type of thing.

‘Oh, just a guy a met at a bar couple months ago,’ Beatrice said, pinching her lime into her drink. I like hanging with her, even though she’s perfectly generic except for that one obvious peculiarity.

‘What do you mean just a guy? He’s insanely fucking gorgeous!’

‘Yeah, he’s pretty hot.’

‘Ridiculously hot, girl! So hot I have no interest in my enchilada anymore.’

‘I’ll have a bite.’

‘Go ahead.’ She did, making a mess of it. ‘He seemed into you too,’ I added casually.

‘Yeah, he is. He’s been calling and texting and stuff.’

‘Oh yeah? Sexting too?’

‘Nah, he’s a gentleman, but he’s been pretty persistent.’

‘You should totally do him. Ride that rod like a mad bandicoot.’

‘Um, I’m with George, remember.’

‘Of course, but this guy is a friggin ten and they don’t come around often. Guy seemed way cool too.’

‘He is. He’s a DJ at night, architect by day, and he’s pretty smart and sensitive and all.’

‘He looked totally into you.’

‘I told you, he is. He’s made it pretty clear.’

‘And you’re not even tempted?’

‘Sure I am. But I’m with George.’

‘Yeah, but seriously, what’s better about George than this guy?’

‘I don’t know. He’s my guy.’

‘Name one thing.’

‘Come on, Sal, don’t put me on the spot.’

‘You can’t even name one thing, can you?’

‘George is sweet!’

‘Sweet’s for stinky feet.’

‘He’s nice and kind.’

‘Oh come on!’

‘And he’s good looking.’

‘No offence, Bee, but he’s three locks from a combover, and his belly has doubled in half a year.’

‘So what? It’s cute.’

‘And what’s with that beard, by the way? Looks like a redhead’s pussy is growing on his face—and he’s not even ginger up top?’

‘The beard is a bit funky, true.’

‘And that breath is pretty fucking vulturine.’

‘Okay, okay, jeez!’

‘Seriously, Bee, I’m only being objective, but George isn’t the most creative grape in the bunch either, now is he?’

‘Maybe not, but he’s smart enough.’

‘For a walrus, maybe.’

‘Jesus, Sally, take it easy!’

‘I’m sorry, but you’re a cool ass chick, and he doesn’t really offer much. Come on, tell me one impressive thing about the guy.’

‘He collects bottle caps.’

‘That’s impressive?’

‘He makes me eggs in the morning.’

‘That’s whipped, not cool.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Seriously, Bee, how about getting a good dicking from Mr. Tightbuns?’

‘Come on. Lay off.’

‘Seriously. Think about it.’

‘Shit, Sal! Why d’you have to be such a hard ass?’

‘It’s in my genes, babe. Can’t play it any other way. You should try get with that guy though. Seriously, give me a decent reason why I’m wrong.’

‘Well, there’s…’

‘You got nothing, do you?’

‘Christ! What’s with the fucking interrogation?’

‘Name one thing.’

‘Okay, Jesus. I can’t.’

‘So leave the clown behind!’

‘That’s harsh.’

‘Only for a night, I mean.’

‘Maybe I could treat myself, just this once.’

‘There’s no maybe about it! Look, the guy’s still here. Let’s call him over.’

‘Now?’

‘No better time, babe.’

I yelled over and the chiseled boy came right over. ‘Bee’s been playing coy but she’s really into you,’ I said, and his face sprawled into a stupid smile. ‘Said she’d love to check out your package.’

‘I did not!’ They both looked down, embarrassed.

‘Don’t tell me you’re shy,’ I told him, mockingly. He really was a lovely stretch of candy.

‘Maybe a little,’ he said, but surely it was a bashful act.

‘Come on,’ I said, ‘you probably have a wonder wang in those jeans. I bet you have more than nine inches in there!’

‘I’m not sure about that.’

‘Not sure? Then maybe I’ll have to check.’

‘Maybe you will.’

Look, I’m no dumb broad; I know what an invitation sounds like, and I was all over this one. ‘Let’s see then.’ I pulled him over and yanked his jeans and boxers out an inch. It was flaccid but it looked like a decent piece. ‘Want me to fatten it up?’ I asked, lingering a finger under the elastic. It was already getting bigger. ‘Make you cum like bitch while I’m at it.’

‘That sounds alright.’

‘Alright?’ I asked with a smirk. ‘Be the best damn lay you ever had!’

‘Then let’s go.’

‘I’ll go when I’m damn well done with my drink!’ I said.

‘Fair enough.’

I’d quite forgotten about Beatrice, but was forced to look over when she collapsed on the floor having one of her attacks. I swear: if that girl didn’t have epilepsy, she’d have nothing at all.

By E.M. Vireo