THE DREAM GIRLS
or
THEY WISH THEY WERE US: A DAY AND NIGHT IN THE LIVES OF TWO TYPICAL INSTAGRAM INFLUENCERS
a short novel in ten parts
***
[WARNING: This ten-part story contains graphic depictions of sexual violence, hate speech, elements of non-consent and reluctance, coerced drug use, non-scatological interaction with human feces, and the copious consumption and expelling of various body fluids.]
***
Part 3: Ew
5:22 pm
Kim and Jessa laid next to each other in Jessa's rank stuffy bedroom, sweaty, raw and utterly spent from a good, hard fuck and powerful, convulsing orgasms. The stench in the room was potent. Pungent body odor, bitter vomit, bad breath, the tangy musk of soaked, sweaty pussies, the faint metallic essence of silicone lubricant and a hint of ass all became one hanging aroma of pure carnal reek.
After they each took a twenty minute post-fuck catnap, Kim woke up first. She moved Jessa's hand off her tit and rolled over to try to prop herself up. Her legs were not entirely sturdy yet, but she managed to stand up and lean on the wall until they got some strength back.
She left the room and stumbled to the bathroom, where she bent her head into the sink, turned the faucet on and gulped water for almost half a minute. She stared at her glowing face and tits in the mirror over the sink for a while, then flipped her long, silky hair back and forth a few times to practice being hot. Some patches of her hair were wet and matted with sweat and vomit, among other liquids. She smiled a practiced, entrancing smile, held her tits from the bottom, then did some kissing faces, practicing for their pics and vids. That got boring after a little bit, so she scuffled out of the bathroom and into her own bedroom.
In her bedroom, she snapped open one of her luggage cases and extracted a thin package with a provocative picture on the front. She ripped open the package with ease and drew out a long, meshy black thing—a black fishnet bodysuit with a fuckhole built in from the crotch all the way past her asshole. Kim didn't usually wear one while she fucked, but she liked to have her pussy and ass nice and free, just in case.
Kim had first tried on fishnets when she was 12 years old (for Halloween), but she had not made them part of her post-fuck routine until a few years ago. She always had some brand new ones around for when she fucked—fishnets, to Kim, were something to use and lose. She rolled them up, poked her feet into the bottoms and unraveled the rest up over her body, sliding her hands and arms into the sleeves and bringing it all the way up to her neck. There it was—that ultimate cool airy sensation all over her skin, a soothing balm after the physical toll of fucking like Kim fucked.
The suite was calm and hushed. She left her room holding her phone and silently entered Jessa's room, which still stunk badly even with the door open.
She looked at her hot fishnet-covered body in the mirror for a few minutes, posing and pushing out her tits and ass, then snapped a bunch of pics. Jessa lay sprawled on the bed on her stomach like a dead slug.
Kim looked over at Jessa's body. She moved over next to the bed and stood looming over it. For five or six minutes she just stood there looking at it, thinking dark, private thoughts. Things she wished she could do to it.
Black thoughts. Red thoughts. Wet thoughts.
She just stood there, a vacant expression on her face. Staring. Fantasizing.
She brought her phone up and began taking pictures of it. Closeup pictures all over its feet. Its toes. Its knees. Its fingers. Its exposed asshole. Pieces of its skin everywhere.
At some point, after Kim had gotten a pic of every inch of Jessa's body that she could, she left the room. She stepped out and down into the living area and stood there working on her phone.
She posted all the pictures she had just taken on a weird forum she had found where guys printed out the pictures and jerked off on them, then uploaded the pictures of the cummed-on print-outs. The pictures went in a new gallery on her account, 'Pic sesh #96.' Jessa didn't know she did this. It was one of Kim's little secrets.
After she was done with that, she sat down for a while in the big chair with her legs spread wide to watch some gay porn and relax—watching gay porn was another part of her post-fuck thing.
Back in the bedroom, Jessa came around. She kept her eyes shut and searched around the edge of the bed for her phone, but found only puddles of water and slick areas of wet, sticky stuff on the hardwood. She wiped her hands on the sheet and laid there for a few minutes coming out of sleep fog.
When she realized Kim wasn't in the room, she looked up and saw Kim sitting down in the big chair. She called out through her doorway.
"Hey, what time is it or whatever? I can't fucking find my phone. We need to be down there by like 7:30."
Kim took a minute to reply. The frenzied pig sounds of a group of men fucking each other floated across the silence from her phone. She sighed a long, tired sigh, then answered.
"It's 5:48."
Jessa ran through a checklist in her mind, then sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked around the room and found her phone and a gigantic sealed bottle of Evian water.
In the living area, Kim sat watching a porn scene where a hairy, muscly white man was being gangbanged by a group of six big black men with ungodly huge dicks. The white man was being double penetrated, was sucking and jerking some dicks, and was getting his own cock sucked. The men were all grunting and "yeah"-ing at their writhing, meaty fuck pile. Kim entertained the idea of masturbating, but she just didn't have the strength or the willpower. She loved to punish her sore post-fuck pussy by demanding another orgasm from it, but her current exhaustion was too much for all that.
She clicked off her phone, rose up to stretch and yawn, then walked up the steps and went into the kitchen. There, she set about making a pre-mixed smoothie. She opened the freezer door and took out one of their organic smoothie kit cups and threw it across onto the counter, then went tearing through the cabinets to find the blender, leaving doors open and bowls and other kitchen things scattered on the floor and the counter.
Her phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID.
Rachel.
She clicked to answer and put the phone between her shoulder and her ear.
"What?" she said.
She half-listened to Rachel stutter and bumble on the other end while she yanked the blender out of a lower cabinet and slammed it onto the counter.
"I don't know. No. Not until we're finished snapping pics and shit."
Kim plugged in the blender, ripped open the smoothie kit cup, dumped the multicolored contents into the blender and dropped the empty cup on the floor. Rachel blabbed and blabbed her boring kissass loser bullshit.
Jessa walked into the kitchen doorway holding her phone and her big water bottle, dressed in only a skimpy lavender bikini top and wearing massive Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses that covered half of her face. She was popping in before hitting the balcony.
"Ask Stench if she's fucking dirty like I told her."
"How dirty are you for tonight?" Kim asked. She was in front of the refrigerator, about to open it. She turned to relay something to Jessa.
"She hasn't taken a shower in a week or some shit, and she went to the gym twice a day." She listened some more and her eyes went wide. "And she just got her period this morning." Good news for both of them.
Jessa took a swig of her water and walked away towards the balcony, her sign of approval. The door opened, then closed.
"Good," Kim said. Rachel resumed babbling and—
Before Kim opened the fridge, she felt a strong sensation down in her ass. She took a quick survey of the kitchen. Over on the far side there was a wall with a giant cool painting, some kind of hip impressionist vision of a cityscape. She walked over to the wall, squatted down on her haunches with her knees spread apart, felt the fuckhole in the fishnet bodysuit spread open on her asscheeks and braced herself.
"Shut up. Hold on a min—
nnnggghhh
."
Kim pushed a long, snaking hot turd out of her asshole onto the floor of the kitchen—the fat end of it almost flopped against her ankle, but she deftly moved her foot out of the way in time. She wiggled her ass so a few last little chunks could squeeze out, then got one hand all wet in her mouth and used it to wipe her ass from front to back. Not one to leave a stone unturned, she pressed a finger in to really clear it all out, then stood up.
Without a warning to Rachel, she tossed the phone onto the nearest counter, washed her hands vigorously, then looked around in the cabinets for something else to use. She found a comfy blue oven mitt and used it to wipe her ass again—just to make sure—then opened the trash can with her toes and threw the oven mit inside. The big glop of shit was still steaming on the floor, so she got the biggest pot she could find—a fancy French all-copper cookpot—and dropped it with a loud clang over the pile of her shit so it wouldn't stink up the whole suite.
She picked up her phone and put it to her ear while she got the organic small batch almond milk out of the fridge to pour into the blender.
"I just had to do something in the kitchen. Just come over, like, when—"
Rachel interrupted her, and Kim froze in disbelief. She set the almond milk on the counter and put her hand on the cool surface to balance herself. Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened wide.
"You're fucking lying. Oh my god!"
Kim abruptly hung up on Rachel and turned her head to call out into the suite.
"Jess! Kim fucking got it! She's bringing us our shit that she promised!"
There was no answer. Then she remembered Jessa was out on the balcony. Kim returned to the blender, held the top on and started it up. A little pee trickled down her leg—she had mostly succeeded in holding it in while she was shitting, but some had escaped. She just let it dribble down—her imagination was elsewhere.
When the smoothie was fully blended, she lifted the top off, threw it into the corner near the shit pot and poured the mixture into a big ornate glass she had found in one of the cabinets. She unplugged the blender and tossed it carelessly into the sink, where some of the remaining smoothie spattered up onto the faucet and the wall under the wide kitchen window.
Kim carefully stepped through the kitchen to the main area and walked to her room to get her own sunglasses. She put them on, then marched out to the balcony, stepping right in the damp, sticky leftovers of Jessa's hour-old puke puddle and trailing some through the rest of the place. She opened the heavy door to the balcony and stepped out in her fishnets, leaving the door open and letting the air conditioning escape from the suite without a care.
Someone way out on the ground was yelling—a woman. Jessa was standing at the railing with her legs spread and her hand on her bare lower stomach looking down to someone and smiling a shit-eating grin. The girls' bodies were entirely exposed to the world—the balcony was enclosed by a simple but refined set of metal bars with a dark steel tube at the top for a railing. Kim was momentarily baffled by the yelling, which seemed to be pointed towards her and Jessa.
An older, ugly woman was standing out near where the parking lot began in jeans and a tank top. One hand sat on her hip holding her white purse in place and the other hand was pointing—at Jessa. She was angry, and whatever she was saying sounded scolding and totally fucking lame.
"What the fuck is with that fucking psycho bitch?" Kim asked.
"I said hi to her husband while they were walking out, then I spread my legs so they could see all my perfect shit."
The husband was turned away from the woman with his arms crossed and his head down, clearly a little embarassed and definitely fucking pussy-whipped by his fucking ugly trash wife. Kim put it all together and got excited. She had an idea.
"Want some of my smoothie?"
"Yeah, give me it."
