Murggh…I fell asleep in the bed of my soccer mom client. That happens sometimes, when you’re a professional Man Whore. Hmm, maybe I should pay to launder these sheets—that’s a metric ton of sex-juice crusties…
Suddenly, a voice floats up the stairs: “We need to guard this goddamn map!” A chorus of dudes cheer in agreement.
I throw on my clothes and creep down the hall. What the hell? It sounds like a bunch of braindead frat-bros…what’s all this about a map?
As I get closer, the lead speaker declares, “Now that we’ve finally discovered the clit, no one can know! For years, we’ve competed against girthy-ass upcurves that target the g-spot with utter impunity! The female orgasm is now within—”
Raucous laughter bursts from my lips: “BWAAH hahaha! You need a MAP to—”
Crap. I slap my hands over my mouth.
“Who the FUCK is that?” the speaker yells. “Tanner, Brayden, Colton, Chase! Find whoever’s up there and beat the ever-loving fuck out of them!”
I step out from the corner, hands raised. A mob of frat-bros greets my eyes. “Whoa, guys! No need for beatings, alright? Congratulations on finding the clit—can’t say I ever needed a map, but…” I hiss through my teeth. “Kinda unrelated, but you might wanna consider changing your names. You sound like roofie-slinging Ivy League boat-shoed douche-scum.”
“Wait a second…” The speaker’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Did you just come out of my mother’s bedroom? Did you and she…no,” he whispers. “NO!”
“Oh shit,” I laugh. “You must be her son Kingsley (also a frat-creep name, definitely change it). Yeah, your mom hired me to…” I catch myself before I can finish the sentence. “Um…” I clear my throat and nervously tug my collar. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna GO.”
“GET HIM!”
Clit-hunting frat-bros swarm up the stairs, forcing me to run down the hall into Kingsley’s mom’s bedroom. I slam the door and lean against it, lurching as they ram it with their collective weight.
Fuck. FUCK. These guys are gonna tear me limb from limb.
No options left. So I reach in my pocket and open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its mind-bending reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
Kingsley’s mom appears beside me and shooes me away from the buckling door. She swings it open and puts her hands on her hips, staring down the mob of shocked frat-douches.
“Get out of here, Kingsley, before I cut you off from your monthly stipend!”
“But…he…” Kingley looks over her shoulder at me.
I meet his gaze with a huge grin and throw up a pair of faux-gangsta hand signs.
“Keeps me sane with his big ol’ upcurve!” His mom yells. “Now FUCK OFF!” She slams the door in his frat-douche face.
“Get undressed.” She starts unbuttoning her shirt. “Need to get me some a’ that GIRTH!”
There’s a reason it’s been nicknamed The Widener. Kent Wayne wins again! HEH heh heh!
😀
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