- Joined
- Sep 7, 2019
- Location
- Jurassic Park
Amanda was suddenly shot down from Cloud 9 and landed back on earth- hard- as Deke (@greybishop) very obviously lied and walked away. Her first instinct was to cry, but that be would letting that asshole win.
Instead, once Deke was out of earshot, she said to Paige (@AndNich123), “I only like women of any age, and older men, but no one from either group seems to like me back at all. Men like him dismiss me as a wallflower made of ‘jailbait,’ when I have so much more to offer than all of them put together. And I’d like to see that petrolhead have the discipline to train for eighty goddamn hours to ride this motherfucker”- she said and banged on the outer hull of the helicopter for emphasis- “let alone do anything more with his life than sell coke to kiddies and morons like him.”
And yet she couldn’t deny, even after Deke had stomped on her like annoying gum on his shoe for the better part of today, that she still wanted to ride on his joystick for eighty hours. And then another part of her wanted to fuck him back with a rusty piece of helicopter blade up his condescending asshole for daring to kick her to the curb in the first place.
“So no...you didn’t ‘clam jam’ me, I believe the equivalent expression is,” Amanda winked. “It’s like your other American expression... ‘sisters before misters,’ right? I think I have an idea of how to find Lucas.” And possibly grab Deke’s attention back, perhaps even make him jealous, lustful or both while she was at it.
Then she saw Madison (@greybishop) dancing and pouring drinks with only a vest covering her birthday suit at the bar and grinned evilly, her plan taking shape. “By the way,” she told Paige as they walked to the stage, “you may need to be more specific about which naked chick you’re talking about- as there are now two that people are circling.”
Inside of a few minutes, she raced through the crowd to the stage, grabbed the microphone, and then ducked behind the bar. Once Amanda did, her brain, fuzzed up by drink, decided it would be a good idea to turn on the microphone, call out, “Testing, testing, ooh la la LA” and then sent a flirty kiss and wave at the blonde and jumped onto the bar.
With that, Amanda wasted no more time. “Everyone, may I have your attention please?!” she yelled. The combination of the mic and her substantial pipes, honed from yelling over helicopter noise, made sure everyone (@xavierrol) (@Flutterby) (@Stephanie Hall), including Kami (@alona98), her best American pen pal from middle school who she spotted at the bar in an amazing, tight top, would surely hear her.
“My friend, Paige Abbott, is looking for a Lucas. Would everybody with that name please line up at the bar? Whoever the Lucas is that Paige is searching for will get to do shots off my tits!” Amanda cried and unbuttoned her suit to bring out her firm B-cup breasts. “And possibly off Madison’s too, if she agrees. This is Wings, signing out, bitches!” she then added with another wink before dropping the microphone into someone’s drink by accident and plopping down in the open bar seat next to Kami, awaiting a flood of Lucases. (Luci? She’d have to look up the plural of Lucas later, once her head wasn’t swimming.)
“Heeeeey, Kamiiii!” Amanda giggled at her sixteen year old friend, the alcohol from that first drink now well and truly in her system. “How you been, girlfriend?!” she added while craning her head back and smiling goofily as she looked at her Black friend upside down.
Instead, once Deke was out of earshot, she said to Paige (@AndNich123), “I only like women of any age, and older men, but no one from either group seems to like me back at all. Men like him dismiss me as a wallflower made of ‘jailbait,’ when I have so much more to offer than all of them put together. And I’d like to see that petrolhead have the discipline to train for eighty goddamn hours to ride this motherfucker”- she said and banged on the outer hull of the helicopter for emphasis- “let alone do anything more with his life than sell coke to kiddies and morons like him.”
And yet she couldn’t deny, even after Deke had stomped on her like annoying gum on his shoe for the better part of today, that she still wanted to ride on his joystick for eighty hours. And then another part of her wanted to fuck him back with a rusty piece of helicopter blade up his condescending asshole for daring to kick her to the curb in the first place.
“So no...you didn’t ‘clam jam’ me, I believe the equivalent expression is,” Amanda winked. “It’s like your other American expression... ‘sisters before misters,’ right? I think I have an idea of how to find Lucas.” And possibly grab Deke’s attention back, perhaps even make him jealous, lustful or both while she was at it.
Then she saw Madison (@greybishop) dancing and pouring drinks with only a vest covering her birthday suit at the bar and grinned evilly, her plan taking shape. “By the way,” she told Paige as they walked to the stage, “you may need to be more specific about which naked chick you’re talking about- as there are now two that people are circling.”
Inside of a few minutes, she raced through the crowd to the stage, grabbed the microphone, and then ducked behind the bar. Once Amanda did, her brain, fuzzed up by drink, decided it would be a good idea to turn on the microphone, call out, “Testing, testing, ooh la la LA” and then sent a flirty kiss and wave at the blonde and jumped onto the bar.
With that, Amanda wasted no more time. “Everyone, may I have your attention please?!” she yelled. The combination of the mic and her substantial pipes, honed from yelling over helicopter noise, made sure everyone (@xavierrol) (@Flutterby) (@Stephanie Hall), including Kami (@alona98), her best American pen pal from middle school who she spotted at the bar in an amazing, tight top, would surely hear her.
“My friend, Paige Abbott, is looking for a Lucas. Would everybody with that name please line up at the bar? Whoever the Lucas is that Paige is searching for will get to do shots off my tits!” Amanda cried and unbuttoned her suit to bring out her firm B-cup breasts. “And possibly off Madison’s too, if she agrees. This is Wings, signing out, bitches!” she then added with another wink before dropping the microphone into someone’s drink by accident and plopping down in the open bar seat next to Kami, awaiting a flood of Lucases. (Luci? She’d have to look up the plural of Lucas later, once her head wasn’t swimming.)
“Heeeeey, Kamiiii!” Amanda giggled at her sixteen year old friend, the alcohol from that first drink now well and truly in her system. “How you been, girlfriend?!” she added while craning her head back and smiling goofily as she looked at her Black friend upside down.
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