Filthy Dirty Filthy
Becca awoke Monday morning well rested. She drove to her job and sauntered in confident strides towards the Everett & Everett building with plan in tow. She gathered up the suits in upper management and discussed a possible sexual harassment suit against Ben O’ Donnell. When seen last, Ben had been left for the wolves. He awoke at dawn outside of Littleworth with no wallet, flat tires, smashed windows, a bleeding anus and clothes soiled in multiple bodily fluids. He walked in with his impulses buzzing and only a vague recollection of his night out with Becca. He couldn’t remember if he had gotten out of control and pushed himself beyond appropriate behavior like he had done in the past with other girls. He couldn’t see how a professional girl like Becca could be capable of such brutality if otherwise. How something strange must have occurred in the parking lot after he blacked out, he thought. Panic hit him as his three superiors beamed him chilly faces of stone as Becca smiled and winked her eye standing in the middle of them. In her morning talks with management they begged her not to leave. They stated that in times of economic crisis it would not be wise to leave a job where she could not only keep her head above water but thrive. They even offered her advancement as a damage control gift. Becca kindly declined any offers. She claimed that there were other jobs with better pay she was interested in pursuing. Her management sighed with understanding as she cleaned her things out of her office. A gust of tension blew in the wind as she and Ben passed each other. He was called into the coffee room by management to be inevitably terminated from his position. Becca packed the contents of her office in cardboard boxes that management insisted Ben carry to the office doorway with security trailing him. She gathered her belongings and left her job for good to embark on a year of debauchery with Bethany as her blind guide. Security lead Ben out of the building in the elevator across from the elevator she was departing in, as both of them were now unemployed. Becca and Ben shared final eye contact. She blasted him a smile worthy of a severance package with an airborne kiss before her elevator door closed. Her final paycheck would arrive in the form of a direct deposit into her primary savings account. Included would be the wages she acquired from the deal she had brokered with the Japanese business men who left her office last week thoroughly impressed.
On the last ride home from work she put the windows down and let her hair flow recklessly, letting it conquer the easy wind of the summer. She saw things through the thin ice of Bethany’s eyes. She meditated on the thought that until now, Bethany had lived a far more interesting life than her. She saw where she had been ripe for Bethany’s sometimes harsh criticism. She let the glow of the sun cleanse herself of inhibitions. Her incident with Ben O’ Donnell now seemed like a distant midnight snack as the cap had been cracked open with the bottle fizzing profusely. Becca felt divine, knowing that she would soon be only in the company of Bethany and their assorted arsenal of sex toys for the duration of the summer. We’ll see who’s boring, she thought to herself. At 10:00am, she phoned Bethany to awaken her with no success. Becca was so driven with happiness that she took a ride to the Hollister house to awaken her. She rode up the winding driveway and shut her car off. She leaped into the air looking into the window of each door of their garage to see who was home. She only saw Michael Hollister’s weekend only Porsche and Bethany’s graveyard of totaled Mercedes Benz automobiles, including the one she nearly killed herself in. From her few peaks into the windows there was no sign of the Polish maid. This indicated to her that Bethany was alone in the house. She opened up the unlocked door and bunny hopped up the stairs every other step at full speed towards her room. The hinges shrieked as she opened the door slowly to see Bethany rumbling violently within her sheets. Becca put her hands out and approached the bed like a child made monster. She wrapped her arms around Bethany and slowly blew her Big Red scented breath up the back of her neck turning her meek, free of her night terrors. “Guess who, bitch?” Becca whispered placing her tongue against her neck.
Bethany’s eyelids lifted and sinister ran up her spine to Becca’s coat of saliva on her neck.
“You taste like dirty hairspray!” Becca coughed with a bitter face.
“Look, I don’t even want to take a shower. Let’s hit the door and handle our bid!”
“No shower? Shocker, shocker!” Becca teased, bouncing on her disheveled bed. Bethany stood with a yawning stretch.
“How was your Monday morning, how did management take your sudden departure?” Bethany asked, squeezing a pair of jeans on the floor.
“Oh, everything is gravy. Wait until you hear this one!”
“Before you start talking, tell me the story in the bathroom. I have to nurse this. Thinking it’s a yeast infection!”
“OK, continue. What happened in your stuffy office?” She asked as she applied cold cream to her vaginal area.
“I went in there with my shit together. The management love a damsel in distress. So what I do is I play the role from the inside to bring it home! I said that I was resigning my position. They warned against it citing the uncertain economic climate. I told them I was entertaining the offers of competitors and if they didn’t fire Ben I was going to storm the joint with a pack of starving Jewish attorneys. They knew I was a little rich girl so I waved my stick of fire at them! It always feels good to do that!” She laughed.
“Yeah? That’s rock solid! You, doll house, are ice cold!”
Becca sat with a smile of vindication as an impressionable little sister would who had shown her heroic older sister something cool.
“A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Let’s go and get us a bad education! To your place, I can’t stay here. I want to bolt while my mom is at the gym!” Bethany demanded as they leaped downstairs.
“You won’t have to worry about that soon. I’ve decided to let you live with me! I figured it’s the only feasible way we can really get in the ass of this thing.”
“I knew you were as smart as I’ve been told you are! Oodles of thank you’s! I guarantee it will be the slumber party that never ended!” Bethany yelped, giving her a bear hug. Pornographic flashbulbs flickered in their collective mind’s eye at the rate of ticker tape. They left the house without locking the door destined for the computer to pursue their mission.
“You know, men are like rock heads, all of them, they are so fucking stupid! Had he not pushed it that far he would still have a job! He would have known he was a tool belt and he could have quit while he was behind! Why is it that they all have to lose everything before they learn lesson one?” Becca mused.
“These are not men, they are animals. They can’t help themselves! It’s ego driven. It’s the same as when a natural born loser steps to a slot machine. Your pussy much like those casino chips, it represents something to them. It’s going to heaven without having to die! They are an artifact to lesser people that greater things exist. Trying to obtain those things, however, that can get ugly. Like, really, really ugly! So you don’t beat it, you join it. Then, you beat it from the inside!”
“Brace yourself, babe! In the eye of the perfect storm you need an umbrella mentality!” Bethany said, taking out her box cutter and tickling her arms with the blade. The girls entered Becca’s apartment consumed with wicked ambitions. They immediately took a seat in front of the computer as Becca typed in the password she created to gain access to Identity Crisis, Inc. The girls sat like hypnotized cyborgs filling out their personal information. They took to the work with extraordinary vigor driven by the dark passions of the heart. The girls arrived at the last page of the required documents. Becca typed both of their full names, social security numbers and her primary savings account number from which the money would be withdrawn from. A notice popped up from the center of the screen. “The money for the packages will be deducted from the account above upon the arrival of the documents which should arrive in less than 24 hours. Upon the arrival of your customized documents, visit us and type in the confirmation number mailed along with your documents. Thank you for choosing Identity Crisis, Inc. Where the second chance not only lives but it has a name.” Becca concluded, reading the notice aloud.
She hit the Next button and the monitor went black. Becca’s computer flickered back on displaying the Apple logo on the screen moments after. Both girls thought queer of the computer blackout. However, they put little thought into it as they each let out a sigh of orgasmic relief. “Do you think we filled everything out correctly? I don’t want this to turn into some situation for the underworld!” “What’s the worry? All I can remember was precise, laser beam fucking accuracy! What more could you ask?”
“You know what? I heard my mom talking about you through the wall one day! She had her theories about you. I guess we all do!” Becca smiled as she walked into her kitchen.
“Oh, what the fuck do I care? Your mom has been hot for my cooch since tween town!” Bethany huffed, following her.
“She said that for such a crazy bitch she thought you would have come up with better paintings! She begged me to take them down for years when I lived back at the house.”
“If I gave a fuck about what she thought maybe we could one day start a business, an art gallery! What the fuck does your mom know about art! She’s got a fucking Leroy Neiman hanging in her living room of a fucking guy playing tennis! Does she still refer to me as Bridget’s daughter?” Bethany asked, growing hostile. “Ah, only when she’s mad! Don’t talk any jive either, that’s mom dukes you’re talking about!” Becca warned with a raised eyebrow as she fixed both herself and Bethany a root beer float.
“Last night I was watching Animal planet. There was this dog on there named Chaos. He had this super freak gene in him, he was a Rick James Terrier! He had a leg humping addiction! They castrated Chaos, his originality was in his balls and they took them. Now he’s just another dog!”
“They didn’t have to castrate Chaos. Maybe the dog was just, like, really bored and not so chaotic. That’s why I don’t trust veterinarians. Chaos should have neutered it’s masters! Anyway, here we are!” Bethany shouted as they shared a toast.
“Good idea, we have to fit into all those high school clothes. No more uniforms for the gals, think legitimacy!”
“So how do we kill time from where now meets then?” Bethany said, spilling the fizz of her root beer float onto Becca suggestively.
“We could look at trans gender porn?”
“For two weeks? C’mon beautiful! This two weeks is going to be longer than my scrotum!”
“Hold your pretty things, a vision is coming to me! Something dirty and for just me and you!” Becca said in a hush tone. She began to unbutton each button on her black dress shirt from top to bottom. By the third button she had unzipped her black dress pants with the other hand revealing her black thong. She shook her clothes off and whipped her untamed hair around. She approached Bethany and sat intimately in her lap. Bethany crept in close and took a deep breath of her unfamiliar exotic perfume as the smell unlocked her dreams. She looked at her tan, pristine shoulders as her wavy hair spoke erotic languages to her. A soft kiss was followed by a rough kiss as she led Bethany to the bedroom. Bethany stopped briefly to hit the shuffle button on her I Pod and home theater. Becca prowled the bedroom with the zesty charm that made her so delicious to Bethany. It was in the bedroom that Becca became free of disdain of everyday life’s constraints. There was nothing to conform to in the bedroom. Bethany thought it was cute when Becca played the dominant role knowing all the while that she already had her meat hooks in her. Becca scanned her arsenal of sex toys. “Let’s see, we have Oliver Twist, Moby, Bethany’s dick!” Becca whispered to herself, trying to make a selection for the desired gizmo of the night. Prince, Dirty Mind, could be heard from the living room as Becca filled a spray bottle with hot water from her bathroom while she masturbated on the bed. Becca entered the room spraying Bethany on her face and chest until she glistened.
“Strip to your bones, bitch!” Becca demanded, leaning in whispering with a honed bite of her ear. Bethany stripped herself of her clothes and the two tumbled to the bed intertwined. They smashed their lips together in the darkness of the bedroom as their tender bodies began to joust. Saliva spilled as Bethany’s mouth watered. Becca grabbed Oliver Twist and greased it with expensive lubrication. She plunged it into Bethany as she mounted her from behind.“This is your Georgia O’Keeffe moment!” Becca whispered into her ear as she shut her eyes on a quest for the soul of the moment. Bethany thrust her back into her, trying to approximate a specific feeling that was just beyond reach. She twisted her neck around to catch glimpses of her. This to her represented an unachievable freedom. Becca pushed her back to the mattress and began wildly kissing her neck and breasts as Bethany rested her head on the plush pillow. Becca kept getting unpredictable rushes up her spine. Bethany wrestled her to the mattress and started kissing her long exquisite legs leaving a saliva trail to her inner thigh. Her tongue entered her vagina in a circular motion that she had mastered at The Bald Eagle during her many lost weekends. “You shaved everything today?” Bethany joked with the grin of a wise guy. Becca’s eyes grew intense with pleasure. Trying not to focus on the intensity going on beneath her. Instead she was far off in the land of open doors feeling she had now touched down and scratched the surface. She forbade a life of excessive behavior for so long basking in her role as the daughter pride built. Bethany’s buried her face in Becca’s vagina all slapdash and primitive. Becca then sat up abruptly on the edge of orgasm.
“Do you want me to go down a little?” Becca asked with a jolt of jazz.
“No, let me pitch tonight. My yeast infection, remember? I don’t want you coming back up with crumbs!”
“Vomit! Do you get all gross down there every time you get a good idea? Super cool!”
“You’d rather me not tell you? Last time I do something admirable!” Bethany reasoned, crossing her arms in offense.
“No. I just want you to get off that’s all. Don’t you want that?”
“I get off getting you off! We’ve freed up plenty of time for that. This is about you. Let me play my position and put you in the position!” Bethany jumped on top of her and began fingering her roughly. Bethany put her middle and pointer finger into overtime as her lips sneered like Elvis Presley when he was known as The Hillbilly Cat. Bethany took to pillaging her body, clawing her rib cage and breathing through her teeth. She tugged her hair with one hand and tweaking her nipple with the other. Bethany began to slowly penetrate her now liquefied vagina with Oliver Twist strapped to her naked waist, her nipples spiked into two diamonds as the brave efforts of the air conditioning did little to cool the steamy atmosphere.
Becca leaned her neck back and wore the frozen face of contentment. Bethany’s brow shined with sweat as she pushed and pulled her lagoon vagina with acute precision. Becca’s breathing patterns grew similar to that of a woman in labor. Bethany became annoyed with Becca’s heavy breathing and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. She nearly turned blue but she was achieving orgasm and she could hardly notice the lack of oxygen. Bethany began suffering from tremendous boredom. She was wondering if she really did wear her femme parts ragged as she began second guessing herself and her master plan. Orgasm was just around the corner. Bethany removed Oliver Twist from Becca’s vagina and began to pop her with her pointer finger. Bethany was working at a breakneck pace and ready to roll out the tsunami. After she pulled her hand out of Becca, her vagina spit feminine ejaculate across the room. As her panting died down she worried that all of her careful planning would be irrelevant if she couldn’t stimulate herself sexually. She knew she would spend the remainder of the night sleepless and wallowing in her self constructed tower of for her pity. “Thar she blows!” Becca laughed, rolling onto her stomach with delight.
“That has always fascinated me! It’s like a little wee wee! Like it’s French. Saclebleu!” Bethany cackled, tossing a pillow at her.
“Stop making a gash out of me!”
“Not my fault you’re a squirter!” Bethany said, wiggling her fingers.
Becca tossed a pillow at her in anger. Bethany retired to the bathroom to brush her teeth continuing to taunt her in the process. She looked at herself in the mirror with uncertainty as the toothpaste began to foam from her mouth. She scanned over her face to try and notice any visible signs of age. Her bout of self doubt was ill fated as she washed her hands and walked back to the bedroom with confidence. Becca lied beneath the sheets tucked into the blanket sleeping with her mouth wide open. The sandman would tease Bethany the remainder of the night with unfulfilled promises of flakes in the corner of her eyes. She passed the night doing sets of push ups, spinning her knife, and watching reruns of Daria on The N. at the crack of dawn, Bethany stripped out of her clothes and put Becca’s favorite designer bathrobe on. She then went into the freezer to oven bake a Mama Celeste pizza as the closing scene of Pump Up The Volume played on HBO2. She shook her head at the choice of wardrobe in the movie as her eyes began to glaze. She fell into a dream about fifty thousand thrusting stallions pumping towards an eight second perfection. There was a knock at the door. Bethany heard the knocking before it started and it sent her pulse wild. She leaped up off the couch to answer the door. When she opened it she saw a tall man dressed in a black three quarter length coat and matching fedora. His hat hid his unhealthy blue skin tone and wormy yellow eyes. He stood straight and sullen with a package under each arm.
“Are you Bethany Aubrey Hollister or Rebecca Tyler Anderson?” The Visitor said in a deep drone.
“Yeah, I’m Bethany. Who are you suppose to be, the bad man?”
“I have rather personal information under my arms and I need both your signatures. Rebecca’s especially, being that this is all being charged to her bank account.” He explained as he held out an electronic, green glowing clipboard.
“I have to go wake her up. Do each of us a favor and don’t call her Rebecca. She detests it. What’s the deal with this rooster crow shit? Fed-Ex never comes until the afternoon.”
“Due to the personal nature of our business we handle all of our own deliveries. We have branches globally. We are everywhere so we can make good on our promise of prompt 24-hour delivery. If you don’t want to proceed with this transaction, please do so quickly, for our services are in high demand.” He stated robotically droll, as if he had given this same speech many times.
“Oh, a company man! I get’cha! Didn’t mean to ask any questions! Wait here as I awake the bread winner.” Bethany said, taking long sprints to the bedroom diving onto the bed, nearly levitating her sleeping body off.