Just a quick hitter here. It flew into my mind, and I decided to write it up. Exhibitionism, incest, mom-kids, a bit of BDSM. As usual, this is totally unrealistic. Hopefully you will appreciate my warped sense of humor in this one. Yes, it's stupid. Yes, it rambles.
All characters are 18-years old or older. I self-edit, and that isn't going to change.
'What the hell am I doing?' I thought. 'What are they thinking of me?' Well, it was my fault. I was the one that brought it up. Sure, it sounded fun at the time, but I was just kidding about it. I didn't REALLY think they would goad me into doing this. OK, so my pussy flooded at the thought. Still, that shouldn't have actually gotten me to agree.
[DIIIIINNNNGGG, DOOOOONNNNGGG]
Shit. Too late now. Further introspection on this would have to wait.
Turning the knob, I opened the door. "Hello." I said with a bright smile.
45-minutes earlier:
"I'm home." I called out to my kids as I came through the door. I was an hour late that night. One of the bubble-headed cashiers at work couldn't seem to add up her receipts properly. As manager of the Ladies Clothing department at a multinational department store, I was stuck working with the bimbo until she figured out that half of 8 was 4, not 3 or 0. Think about it. Stereotypical blonde - bless her heart. I was really annoyed and commented on her being a natural blonde. She replied that she would regrow the hair on her shaved pussy to prove it if I needed. Blondes! Bless her heart.
You are wondering about that phrase? It's old school southern charm. It basically means that a woman can say pretty much anything demeaning or insulting and not cause offence as long as they tack on that phrase at the end. 'Oh, he is without a doubt the homeliest boy I have ever seen! Bless his heart.' 'My goodness! She is so ugly that she would make a freight train take a dirt road. Bless her heart.' 'That girl is so stupid that if she weren't reminded to breath, she would suffocate. Bless her heart.' See how that works? A genteel Southern Woman can be the biggest bitch on the planet, but all is forgiven with that little phrase tacked on. Bless my heart.
Typical blonde, always thinking with her pussy. I can see your eyebrows, no need to drop your panties. Yes, I did let her know that from now on it was not a good idea to lift up her dress and show that she was actually not wearing panties - behind the glass counter - with several customers watching. Fucking slut! ------ Bless her heart (quietly mumbled).
OK. So, where was I? Oh yes. I had just gotten home an hour late. First things first -- WINE! I pulled a half full bottle out of the fridge and poured a glass. Fuck it. It had been a long day, so I took the glass and bottle with me into the livingroom. A couple of minutes later, my kids strolled in. Evan is 19 and a freshman at the local college. Sheree is 21 and a senior. Their father is no longer in the picture. He goes by the nickname of Dickless. It's not entirely accurate, since the surgeon did manage to reattach most of it. His last mistake was standing too close when he informed me that he was leaving me for his 22-year-old secretary. I've always had really strong legs, and I was wearing 5-inch pumps at the time. If it had been a football instead of his balls, it would have been an easy 70-yard field goal. Six of them, actually. On the last one, my heel managed to catch on his appendage and cut (tear?) most of it off. Sure, he still has a dick, but it no longer works. Three of the guys that pulled me off of him also suffered some minor injuries. I did feel bad about that later.
I haven't dated since then. Most of it is because I just don't want to go through the hassle, but it may also have something to do with most of the guys I'm attracted to seem to get a look of terror in their eyes whenever I try to flirt with them. Odd. Good thing my dildos and vibrators don't have eyes. Maybe it's time to dig out my old college playbook and start looking at women again.
He had moved to Alaska by the time I got out of lock-up -- 3-months later. After checking the bank balances (or rather lack thereof) I informed his lawyer that I would be going to see him to personally get my money back -- especially since I had just had to borrow money from my parents for a new baseball bat. I had gone to college on a softball scholarship, and I casually mentioned to his lawyer that I was looking to get back into playing. I heard that there were some great opportunities to practice my swing while visiting Alaska. Oh, and tell his new slut that I am VERY anxious to MEAT her as well. Yes, make sure that they know I intentionally spelled it that way. An e-mail the next morning informed me that 70% of the money Dickless withdrew from our joint account had been replaced.
The divorce went through with minor hiccups. He demanded most of the assets because of the injuries I inflicted on him. I countered with me getting most because he was the one at fault by cheating. He finally agreed with most of my terms when he got an anonymous email showing videos of me at the batting cages and then filing my steel cleats to sharp points. He tried to claim intimidation, but he had no proof that I had sent the videos (I hadn't; our kids did), and the email just said that they thought that he would be interested in his wife's renewed interest in softball. It was completely harmless. It's not my fault that he interpreted it as anything other than benign. I still had to attend 6-months of anger management classes, though.
So, what about me? My name is Teagan O'Malley. Yep. Irish through and through. You can probably guess that I also have the famous Irish temper. And, yes, I am a true green-eyed redhead. I'm a bit tall at 5'8". I have very strong, toned legs that go for miles. I work on them a lot. I have a slim waist that flairs out to nice hips that hold my pins well. My ass is round and tight from a gazillion lunges. I have a roundish face with a small nose, plump lips, high cheekbones, dimples when I smile, and a smattering of freckles across my nose. Being Irish, I have very fair skin. I was also blessed by the titty fairy. They are 38DD. I tend to attract attention when I am out and dressed up nice. I used to attract a whole lot of attention in college when I would dress up a bit differently for the frat parties I attended. I even attracted a bit of attention from several of the girls in my dorm -- which was not unwelcome at the time. I will say honestly, though; once I met my husband, I was completely faithful to him.
Alright. Back to where I left off. I tend to ramble a bit as my mind wanders. One day, I'm sure, my mind will wander and not return. Maybe it did already, and I just haven't noticed. Nope. It's back. OK. So, my kids strolled into the livingroom as I was pouring my second glass of wine. They had been studying and had not had a chance to start on dinner. Me, being an hour late getting home, compounded the issue. Options were discussed. The problem was that none of us were in the mood to cook at this time. That meant either carry-out or delivery. By the time that we had waded through the options, I was on my third glass of wine. I hadn't eaten since lunch, so the wine was starting to get to me. Great! I can hear the stereotypes now, Drunk Irish. What's the difference between an Irish wedding and a hockey game? In a hockey game, the refs eventually break up the fights.
Fortunately, I was only getting slightly buzzed, not full on drunk. Unfortunately, I was getting slightly buzzed. That does two things to me. It lowers my inhibitions, and it brings out my warped sense of humor. We decided on pizza, and Evan called it in. When he hung up, he said it would be here in half an hour and the cost. He then said something about me needing to get the door since I was the one with the cash to pay for it. My warped sense of humor decided to kick in at that point. I giggled at a thought I had.
"What's so funny?" Sheree asked.
"Oh, nothing." I replied. "It's just something I heard the other day that popped into my mind."
"Well, tell us. It sounds funny. I could use a laugh." Evan demanded.
"No. You would just think it's stupid. It actually is stupid."
"Now I really need to know." Sheree added.
After a few more minutes of pushing, I finally gave in.
"OK. I was walking by the break room the other days, and two of the cashiers were talking. One of them said something about having to do something called a 'Pizza Dare'. I pause outside the doorway to listen as she talked about it. It just popped into my head just now and I thought it was funny."
"Oh, God." Both my kids groaned.
"You know about it?" I asked.
"Of course, mom. It's kind of a college thing. Basically, a girl is dared to greet the pizza delivery guy while she is completely naked. Sometimes it happens at a party, and sometimes they are dared to do it at their apartment and video it. There's a lot of videos on the internet showing them doing it."
