Friday, May 27, 2005

Bikini Clad Succubus

The sun was blazing across my back patio, melding through the sliding glass door and creating a vacuum of unbearably uncomfortable heat.

I dove into my chester drawers seeking the swimming trunks that will cover my shame so I can enjoy a little pool time.

I quickly remove all my clothes and pull my aging swimming trunks up.

Hmm. Something's wrong here.

I pull the two strings together and double tie the knot. Apparently I've lost a considerable amount of weight since last summer, because my 28" trunks are way too loose.

Fucking dialysis.

I attempt to tie them in such a way that the bunch I've created with my lack of mass is less conspicuous.

Before my vision even takes in the inviting pool, I hear screaming brats.

This doesn't bode well for the rest and relaxation part of my weekend.

I make my way through the gate and the warm weather has gone and pulled every freakish degerate from my apartment complex to its cool confines.

To the left of the pool is the clinically obese breeding mare for the state. I would estimate she tips the scales at 350-400 pounds and she's attempting to wear a suit that isn't clever enough to hide that fact. She's stuffing her face with Doritos and taking in a new issue of People while her two spawns are fighting over the inflatable SpongeBob.

They scream. She ignores them. They start to hit one another. Jabba stops the gluttony.

"Goddamnit, Mommy's readin' her magerzine. Shut the fuck up."

The kids quiet down. One starts to cry. I wonder where Big Brother is.

To the right of the pool is a striking young woman who seemingly is unaware of the travesty taking place in the shallow end.

Her raven hair was tied back tight into a bun, revealing her shapely jawline. Her milky skin shouldn't have been allowed to endure sun like this. Her figure formed jet black bikini revealed a figure one could spend days exploring. Her sunglasses held the secret of whether she was sleeping through all the poolside horror.

The only available chair in the entire area was directly next to her, so I made my way in that direction.

"Are you saving this chair for anyone?" I softly asked.

No response.

I figure she must be dozing, so I start to place my poolside comforts around the chair. I'm facing her as I take off my shirt and I witness her tilt her head in my direction.

I smile and say, "Hello," hoping today is my lucky day.

She slowly uses her left hand to remove her sunglasses as her right hand begins to expose the middle finger.

"Fuck you."

Sunglasses went back in their proper place and her head turned back to its normal resting position.

"Fuck you back whore. Who the fuck do you think you are, Queen of the Fucking Willow Side Apartments? Fuck you and the skanky fucking horse you rode in on."

That's what I should of said.

Instead, my self esteem shriveled up and crawled back behind my skinny ass. I could feel my stomach turn in on itself. My balls were trying to flee into my ass, but my swim trunks were preventing any such movement.

A heavy sigh left my body as I muttered a "fuck this" under my breath. I started to gather my things when I noticed the beautiful figure sitting next to me begin to morph into something more hideous.

Her beautiful full lips began to swell up and looked charred and burned. Her raven hair burst into dark orange flames. The milky skin became slimy, dripping from her frame to the cement below her chair.

All that remained was the truth.

She tried to snap at me, but I displayed no fear. I remained stone faced.

This caused her pain, incredible icky pain.

She tried to lunge toward me, but I was too quick and she ended up in the pool.

While she was thrashing about, she managed to wrap her tentacles around the two brats who had been causing all the destruction earlier.

Apparently she was hungry, because they went down her throat nice and clean.

Their mother, still shoving Doritos down her gullet, was too interested in Brad Pitt's abs and a delicious ad for a Triple Bacon Cheeseburger from Wendy's to really show any concern.

Thus, my mission was complete.

One bitch down, unfortunately, so many left to endure.

That has been my lot in life, to be treated horribly by beautiful women who believe their status to be higher than mine.

All I'm looking for is my own Winona Ryder angel.

On the cracked, concrete shores of my aging complex pool is probably not where I should be looking.

Sigh.

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