I was staring into the black tunnels of my own double barrel shotgun and my first impulse was to laugh. Not those nervous girly giggles, mind you, but full blown piss-your-pants laughter. I’m standing here in the middle of my own bedroom, stark naked with my best friend standing at attention between my legs, trying to hold it back, but the chuckles erupted into the room like a Mount Vesuvius lava flow. It must have amused the blonde bombshell holding my gun cause a grin sliced its way across her face.
"What's so funny, laughing man?" she purred.
"You, holding that gun in my face. In my line of work, you always expect to end up on the wrong end of a gun. Funny thing is, I always figured it'd be some hot-ass dame and not the job, and by damn, there you are. It's to be expected when you're an old pussy-sniffer like me."
"You just met me tonight. What made you think I’d shoot you?"
"Not you in particular, sweetheart, just your knock-'em-dead type. A fully loaded blonde with legs beggin' to wrap themselves around a man until he can’t think of nothing but slamming his dick into her hot spot. That makes him an easy mark for whatever game she’s looking to play. Trouble is, you got pissed when I took you up on the fuck-me offer and shucked my clothes.”
“I never said I wanted to fuck you and you had no right to expect it.”
“You think I’m wrong? Take a look at the way you're dressed, lady."
"What's wrong with the way I’m dressed?"
"Nothing, if you’re looking to get fucked. If you don't want men looking at you with their dicks and expecting more than dinner and a movie, you shouldn't be wearing sweaters too small for your tits and one of them Marilyn Monroe skirts that clings to your ass like Super Glue. Hell, there ain't a man alive who wouldn't jump on that offer."
"What I'm wearing shouldn't matter. You had no right to expect me to fall into your bed."
"I had every right. First off, you came home with me. We’re in my bedroom, in my apartment. If you didn’t want to get laid, what the hell are you doing here? Were you hoping I’d pass out after a couple of drinks and you could pick my wallet clean or did you figure I was looking to hire a housekeeper?"
"You son of a bitch. Just because I came home with you, you think I'm here to rob you or play housekeeper? Do you really think that's all a woman like me is good for?"
"Hell no, I think you could probably whip us up one hell of an omelet, after a good night's romp between the sheets. Other than that, broads like you are just straight up trouble."
The insulted look she flashed set off another round of belly laughs. Hell, I was laughing so hard, I barely heard the blast that knocked her out of her heels. I always knew stuffing that old shotgun barrel full of wadding would come in handy one day. Dames are so damn predictable. Always going off half-cocked.
"What's so funny, laughing man?" she purred.
"You, holding that gun in my face. In my line of work, you always expect to end up on the wrong end of a gun. Funny thing is, I always figured it'd be some hot-ass dame and not the job, and by damn, there you are. It's to be expected when you're an old pussy-sniffer like me."
"You just met me tonight. What made you think I’d shoot you?"
"Not you in particular, sweetheart, just your knock-'em-dead type. A fully loaded blonde with legs beggin' to wrap themselves around a man until he can’t think of nothing but slamming his dick into her hot spot. That makes him an easy mark for whatever game she’s looking to play. Trouble is, you got pissed when I took you up on the fuck-me offer and shucked my clothes.”
“I never said I wanted to fuck you and you had no right to expect it.”
“You think I’m wrong? Take a look at the way you're dressed, lady."
"What's wrong with the way I’m dressed?"
"Nothing, if you’re looking to get fucked. If you don't want men looking at you with their dicks and expecting more than dinner and a movie, you shouldn't be wearing sweaters too small for your tits and one of them Marilyn Monroe skirts that clings to your ass like Super Glue. Hell, there ain't a man alive who wouldn't jump on that offer."
"What I'm wearing shouldn't matter. You had no right to expect me to fall into your bed."
"I had every right. First off, you came home with me. We’re in my bedroom, in my apartment. If you didn’t want to get laid, what the hell are you doing here? Were you hoping I’d pass out after a couple of drinks and you could pick my wallet clean or did you figure I was looking to hire a housekeeper?"
"You son of a bitch. Just because I came home with you, you think I'm here to rob you or play housekeeper? Do you really think that's all a woman like me is good for?"
"Hell no, I think you could probably whip us up one hell of an omelet, after a good night's romp between the sheets. Other than that, broads like you are just straight up trouble."
The insulted look she flashed set off another round of belly laughs. Hell, I was laughing so hard, I barely heard the blast that knocked her out of her heels. I always knew stuffing that old shotgun barrel full of wadding would come in handy one day. Dames are so damn predictable. Always going off half-cocked.
Sandra's stories can be found scattered around the internet in places like A Twist of Noir, PulpPusher, and The Thrilling Detective. Her thoughts on writing can be found at http://sandraseamans.blogspot.com/
5 comments:
Great story! Loved it, and I hope to see more of these amusing tales.
Sandra, another great flash... I really enjoyed the dialogue in this one.
I have to admit, I'm a bit shocked. Shocked but loving it.
Very un-PC. I loved it!
Ba -dah!bloody good!
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