Janice Jenkins took a swig of cold beer and clicked with her mouse. Naked from the waist down, she sat on a tattered swivel chair (prop. her last employers) covered with an old towel that was already stained with cunt batter. Her jeans and boxers were bunched around her ankles as she leaned forward to inspect the screen.
Ever since being fired from her job as security guard to an office supplies company she had been spending most of her social security on beer and porn sites and most of the night whacking off to pixelated tits and vaginas.
"Fucking bitch, Jacobs!" she muttered to herself as she called up an image of well-stacked porn star Veronika Zemanova.
"Fucking homophobe!"
Janice had been fired for allegedly tickling the asshole of a 19 year old post-girl working the college vacation. In truth, although she'd admired the girl's glorious cheeks on many occasion, she'd merely accidentally prodded her with the holder of her gun....in a completely non-subconsciously motivated way, of course [fuck off, Dr Freud]. June Jacobs, her line manager, had been dying to get rid of her, and this was a golden opportunity once she'd persuaded the girl to make a formal complaint.
Janice wiggled over to the ice-box to get another beer, finally kicking off the constriction around her ankles. She sat back down on the chair with a loud squeak, took a swig of the fresh beer and started to flick at her already swollen clit while admiring the enormous tits on the screen.
"Fuck, I love the jugs on this bitch!" Janice clicked again and was presented with a close-up of Miss Zemanova's pretty asshole. As she raised her fat ass off the chair, her uterus began to contract and a few squirts of juice soaked the towel.
"Now that's an asshole worth getting fired over" She moaned between gritted teeth.
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Although she slept for most of the day, Janice did spend some of the daylight hours indulging her passion for girl-watching. Her next door neighbors were a divorcee, Jennifer Annensky, and her twin 18 year old daughters Candy and Mandy. Both girls were on the cheerleading squad and consequently there was a steady stream of friends from the squad at the house: lounging by the pool or working through routines in the garden. All of this was keenly observed by the 27 year old former security guard.
Strangely, her response to the squad's wonderful enthusiasm wasn't the usual 'go Roxboro!' or 'go team!', but 'oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, shake those fuckin huuugge tittsss ahhh!' together with 'squelch, sloop, squelch, sloop'.
Indeed, many of the young teens were awesomely endowed - in fact were legends for this reason through 3 counties. Many were already a D-cup at 18; those that weren't so lucky relied on water bras thereby provoking next-door's, and other, acts of onanism under false pretences; but the bouncing balloons were enjoyed as if they were real. The 'enjoyees' included several members of the ultra-conservative town of Roxboro's firmly closeted lesbian community, such as the supposedly 'divorced' 39 year old assistant cheerleading coach; the 45 year old 'never found the right man' head of the English department and devoted supporter of female athletics; and the tiny, hooked-nosed 25 year old redhead [concentrating on her career] who was one of the student counsellors.
Oddly enough, the expression of their enthusiasm for the girls' routines, in bathrooms, bedrooms and otherwise deserted lunch-time classrooms wasn't 'go, team! either, but also 'squelch, sloop, squelch, sloop'.
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At 3 the following afternoon, Janice snorted, groaned and dragged her fat ass out of bed and headed for the shower, pausing to look at herself in the bathroom's full-length mirror. She tried to be original in her life, tried to make an original statement to the world, but, if truth be told, her appearance was stereotypical bull-dyke. 5'5", 185 pounds, muscular, tree-trunk legs, wide ass, small pointy tits, thick biceps, and a crew-cut. She showered quickly before returning to wade through the mess on the bedroom floor, looking for her sweatpants.
"Fuck, I better clear up in here; this place is a sty" she muttered, as she negotiated assorted empty beer cans, pizza boxes, dirty boxers and pussy magazines well acquainted with her left hand.
