Okay, ladies. I am PERFECTLY AWARE that this ficlette is completely gross, wrong, profane, rude, slightly graphic, and massively too-much-information.
And if you feel that way, the blame lies totally in Shark Girl.
Thanks a lot, Aina. You made me get inside the mind of a guy.
. . . It's damned SCARY.
- 8 -
I, Brad Ackerman, rule.
I do. I mean, I got it going on. Come on. Not ONLY am I on the wrestling team, but I'm, more often than not, screwing Debbie Mancuso, who, while being annoying as hell, is a babe.
And I have Kelly Prescott in my room.
Can I ask, does anything beat that?
No. So shut your face, retard.
So what if my room was kind of messy. Wasn't THAT bad. She wouldn't mind the clothes on my floor, I was sure. But I couldn't guess why she was wrinkling her nose. She looked around uncertainly, flicking her hair. When she wasn't looking, my eyes totally lowered to her tits.
Gawd . . . why did girls only have one pair?
Then again, guys only have two hands. So it's fair.But hey, in that case though, guys should so get two mouths.
Chicks still only needed one still.
If you know what I mean.
Hah. God, I'm a funny guy . . .
I saw this awesome shirt the other day. Gawd, I hell wanted it. Suze's mom said it was rude, though.
It only said "COULD YOU PLEASE TELL YOUR BOOBS TO STOP LOOKING AT ME?"
What the hell's wrong with that? It's SO true. A chick's boobs just sit there . . . they're like, calling out for some dude to touch them.
Like Kelly's were at the moment. And it didn't help that her top said "Tease me, seize me, please me, squeeze me."
Do NOT tell me that that is not asking for it. I mean, come ON.
Kelly kicked a pile of clothes with her foot snobbily. 'Eww,' she said.
'What?' I demanded defensively. Gawd, chicks talk way too much. With that one mouth thing I said before?
Forget about it. No mouth is cool.
'Er,' she shrugged. My eyes were still on her chest. Boo yah . . . mine, mine, mine . . .
Let's just hope that Paul frigging Slater hasn't copped a feel of her chest before me.
Gawd. Dick. Good thing they weren't going out anymore. Or he might have been kind of pissed that I was about to get head from his girl.
With Debbie, I didn't give a shit.
I'm pretty sure EVERYONE'S had a ride of her. She's like . . . the Carmel public bicycle or something.
I crossed my arms. I still felt all sweaty from wrestling training. And my shorts were giving me a wedgie. I guess I shouldn't have sat on Turner's hand. He was WRIGGLING it and everything. Hence, my wedgie. Hahaha . . . hence . . . ha, I'm a nerd . . . Turner is such a fag. Gawd, he should go get some from McTavish if he wants ass that bad.
Kelly, again, wrinkled her nose. Kind of annoyed, I looked back up at her face. What was her glitch? My mates said she put out like a chocolate factory in Easter season.
But this was it, though. Kelly, in my room. I could have locked the door if I wanted, to make sure that my big chance wouldn't end until I wanted it to, but she would have called me retarded or something. So no locked doors.
Didn't need to resort to that, though. My dick was big enough.
Well . . . okay - Aww, SHUT UP. YOU CAN'T DO ANY BETTER, YOU GEEK.
'So?' I said gruffly, starting to get even more irritated. 'What you wanna do?'
Still looking kind of grossed out - I don't know why, God, what the hell was her problem? - she raised her eyebrows, swallowed - always a good sign - and sighed. 'What do YOU wanna do?' she asked, with a little smile.
I grinned. 'I asked you first.'
'I asked you second,' she said quickly.
Wow . . . she is so smart . . .
Then again, at the same time it was still pissing me off. God. Debbie'd be sucking me off by now. She's fast that way, you know?
I laughed really loudly. If she thought I didn't think she was funny, she'd probably go. Which I didn't want. At all. I mean, God, how embarrassing is it to be pretty much the only loser who hasn't done Kelly Prescott?
Well, the only guy that mattered, anyway.
Fags like McTavish and Meducci couldn't get a girl if they got sex-changes and turned lesbian.
HA. God, I'm so freakin' FUNNY. I had to tell Turner that one tomorrow – haha – McTavish the lesbian – ha . . .
Er, yeah. She smiled, and sat on my bed, her eyes glancing down at my floor like she was disgusted or something. I saw last night's jocks on the carpet.
. . . Whatever. She could handle it.
I grinned. She wanted it. I could so tell. God, I just wanted to be feeling her boo –
'Brad?' she asked.
Annoyed again, I looked up to her face, and grunted.
She blinked wide eyes. 'Well, you've got protection, right?'
I sniggered. Shit, this was funny. Shit, shit – God, KELLY PRESCOTT – HA.
'Hell yes,' I said a bit too quickly.
She smiled in relief. 'Cool.'
DAMNED RIGHT IT WAS FREAKIN' COOL.
HA, BET SHE'S NEVER ASKED SLATER IF HE HAD FREAKING PROTECTION.
Speaking of, what rhymes with protection, and starts with "e"?
Yeah . . . getting one . . . oww . . . shit, this was awesome –
I sat next to her on my bed, grinning like hell. Then I leaned forward and started kissing her.
My mates are right. She's a hell kisser. Wonder if she's good with her mouth elsewhere on me?
We can hope.
I was getting kind of caught up in the whole kissing/groping/removal of top thing, that I didn't realized that she'd stopped for a second. When I did, I kind of grunted down at her again. 'What's your problem?' I snapped.
She had the weirdest look on her face. Like McTavish had just asked her for a hand job or something. 'Brad? Why the hell have you got a tub of baby powder on your bedside table?
. . . SHIT!
I went beet red. Damn, the rash – I FORGOT ABOUT THE FRIGGING RASH.
She looked at me expectantly.
God. That's it. I'm sticking to Debbie. She's my bitch. She doesn't ask stupid questions and make me explain that, after wrestling training, I sweat. I do.
And . . . I get a rash.
And . . . it's not in a very cool area.
And yeah . . . big red welts aren't very flickin'. They can really put a girl off when she's trying to send you to heaven.
Dad gave me baby powder to fix my . . . problem. I had to use the powder after every freakin' wrestling match. Which is no big.
Except when you, after MONTHS, have FINALLY got the hottest chick in school, WILLING and READY, in your ROOM, on your GOD DAMNED BED.
'Uhhhhhhhhhh – ' I slurred. 'Who cares. Come on – '
'No, why?' she persisted.
I contorted my face angrily. 'You stalling? What? You frigid or something?'
Kelly looked pissed off. 'What's the baby powder for, Brad?'
'Noth – '
'What's – '
'None of your b – '
'Is it y – '
'SHUT UP!' I snarled. 'Christ, shut UP.'
She shoved me off of her – shove ME off of HER, something that I strictly did to Debbie – and grabbed the tub.
. . . NO!
NO, MY – MY BONER WAS GOING. GOD, KELLY YOU BITCH! FREAKIN' GET BACK TO KISSING ME ALREADY. NO, NO, don't go -
Damn it . . . gone . . .
'Hey – ' I yelled, but she began reading.
'For nappy rash, sweat rash, heat rash . . . ' she murmured. 'Apply to site of rash in smooth, circular motions. Redness, itchiness and soreness will disappear within no time. If symptoms persist, see your doct – ' she stopped. 'You have nappy rash?'
I blushed. 'Fuck no,' I laughed. 'God, do you think I'd a – '
Her eyes fell on last night's jocks again, which were kind of dusted in white powder.
. . . Oh yeah.
'EWWWWWWWW!' she screeched suddenly, throwing the tub at me. It hit me in the forehead, and the powder burst into my eyes.
'AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' I roared. 'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT – MY FREAKIN' EYES! AAAAH! YOU – '
'EWWWWWW!' she went on and on and on –
My EYES were BURNING. GOD. They started watering, and I was swearing, and I ran forward, tripped headfirst over my desk-chair, and Kelly was still going, 'EWWWWWWWWWW! OH MY FREAKIN'G GOD, EWWW, I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU WERE GOING TO STICK THAT RASHY THING IN – '
Then the door creaked open, and Suze's voice went, 'Are you all r - Dopey has a rash?'
Who the FUCK was DOPEY, MAN?
'EWWWWWW!' Kelly's wail got quieter and quieter. It took me a second to realize that she'd run out of my room.
I heard laughing. And a lot of it.
Suze . . .
I was going to frigging KILL HER.
'Oh,' she said after a second. 'Now I know what the baby powder smell was from.'