The Girlfriend Whisperer, Part 1: Jake and Carol
Carol is pressuring Jake to get married, meanwhile she uses Dante to relieve her pressures.
First a little about me, then I'll get to the good stuff. My name is Dante, I've been described as a kind of Don Juan type, my father was Spaniard and my mother was French, he married her because she was kinky and into ménage à trois, and he was a true lover of women, so I guess the stars aligned to make a tall, dark, and handsome man for the benefit of women. My feelings were pretty much ignored in the process, some people can't believe it when I say I've never had a girlfriend in my whole life, there is just something about me that repels that connection. My first crush broke my heart when I asked her out, she said, "you're the kind of guy I'd like to hook up with as a one night stand but not see myself with permanently." Ouch. But I've learned to accept my role as God's gift to women, and as they say it's better to give than to receive.
The first time I became "The Girlfriend Whisperer" (sometimes the Wife Whisperer) was by accident, and my friend really walked me right into it. His name was Jake, and he called me up one night, complaining about his girlfriend Carol. He was saying how she was pressuring him to propose, get married, and quickly have kids. She was 30 so I guess her biological clock was ticking away. He was just happy living a relaxed life, drinking beer, watching sports, and banging his girlfriend. He asked me to come over and drink with him so he could vent.
"Fine," I said, knowing that his girlfriend would be there since she hardly ever goes out. At least I could stare at her boobs and watch her walk around in short shorts while Jake complained about his life.
When I got there I was sad to see she wasn't there. We had some beers and I listened to him complain about a woman wanting to marry him (did I mention I can't get a girlfriend?). He turned on a baseball game (sports bore me), and we sat and drank like a bunch of depressed losers. Then suddenly, I heard a pitter patter coming down the steps. And there she was.
Carol had long, thick black hair, with very white skin. The contrast of her light skin and dark hair always intrigued me. She looked like some medieval maiden that might've graced the cover of a trashy romance novel. She had this tiny white tank top on with her double D boobs bouncing out of them, and little tiny shorts covering her big booty. She had a great hour glass figure. She didn't say anything to me when she saw me, I always felt there was some weird sexual tension between us, though I always felt that way around women.
"Hi, Carol," I said.
"Hi Dante," she said, almost as if it was a chore. She must've known I was there but was dreading coming down. That made me feel like shit, was I that repulsive to women?
"I hope you're not going to stay up all night drinking," Carol barked at Jake. "We have to go to my parents' house early tomorrow."
"Hmph," Jake grunted, looking over at me with an 'I told you so,' look. Jake felt smothered, almost like they were already married. Why buy the cow when you're already making payments on it?
I knew that Carol's sister was really hot, I had seen pictures of her. "Can I come too?" I said in a joking way. "Is your sister still available?"
"She's dating some Middle Eastern guy now," Carol said.
"Right," I said. "Hang out with us, drink a beer."
"No, I'm cutting back," she said. Jake made another grunt, his world was closing in and his girlfriend wouldn't even drink with him anymore.
"Worried about losing your figure?" I teased. "You're still killer."
Jake looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.
"What? You should be happy you got a hot girlfriend," I said.
"Move over," she said. Jake and I were sitting on the couch, on either end, but now she shoved me over. Her and Jake were on the sides of the couch with me in the middle. This was double awkward, now I was sitting a little too close to my guy friend and a little too close to her, and being in the middle was like triple awkward.
"So who's playing?" She asked, annoyed that sports was on.
"The Oakland pitchers vs the Cleveland...hitters," I joked.
"All he does is watch sports," she said.
"All she does is read books," he said. Carol was a book worm, she reads over 100 books a year, she once bragged.
"Maybe find a book on baseball and you guys can hit it off," I joked. Neither laughed. I was like the third wheel marriage counselor, except not getting paid. I nudged her a little bit, trying to make her cheer up. She had a frown on her pretty face. "Give me a little smile, girlfriend," I whispered to her.
