The feminazis, p.1
The Feminazis, p.1Emilio Amaro
By Emilio Amaro
Copyright 2017 Emilio Amaro
Wes took a sip from his Bud Light and looked around the bar for some sweet poon tang.
He knew he was looking absolutely desirable in his two hundred dollar Hollister skinny jeans with multiple tears in all of the right places with white paint stained all over them. Wes knew there was nothing women desired more than a man who looked like he did rough and gritty work, but had the feminine soft hands that proved he didn’t get too dirty. Wes also had an Abercrombie and Fitch shirt that resembled Jerry Seinfeld’s puffy pirate shirt. It didn’t look great at all, but it was seventy dollars at the register and Wes knew that’s all that mattered.
On Wes’ head he was wearing a visor he had found at American Eagle. It looked worn and tattered and cost thirty bucks. Wes knew by the end of the night, it would be on the bedpost of a girl who had a slight obsession with Channing Tatum five years ago. Wes had considered buying an actual hat at American Eagle, but then he couldn’t style his hair with Axe hair paste to look like a douchey privileged version of Kramer from Seinfeld.
Wes’ eyes were directed over to the right side of the bar, he saw an attractive blonde with a rack worthy of pressing against a car window in a wet t-shirt. Wes visualized how the night would go if he brought her back to his place and was boning her on his leather couch. He imagined what her sweat would smell like mixed with the new car smell of pleather. After he played it out, visualing it from every angle and inspecting it for any flaw like a perverted Stanley Kubrick, he decided that she would be just right.
Wes began making his way towards her. Once Wes got closer, he noticed the shirt she was wearing and cringed. On the front was Olaf, the snowman from Frozen. Wes began to shiver and shake like Michael J Fox on a cold windy Chicago morning while making his way back. Wes assumed this was a girl who filled the holes that were her daddy issues with Disney princess films. In his head, Wes could see this girl at Halloween parties over the years dressing like Cinderella and her date as Prince Charming, or as Belle from Beauty and the Beast and her date of course being The Beast. Wes visualized the Halloween party he would have to go to with this empty and hollow woman. He dressed as The Beast as he looked around the party at other guys dressed as Disney princes with their girlfriends hoping to get a piece of ass in a room only lit by candlelight inside of a Jack O’Lantern.
Wes visualized fucking this girl dressed as The Beast. He of course wearing the costume during sex. He also imagined multiple guys over the years wearing the same exact costume giving it to this girl. She of course only dating men who could fit into the costume. Wes now visualized the costume hanging near the girl’s bed and her getting prepared for Halloween night, where a new suitor would ravish her privates as she wondered if his privates and seed would fill the hole that her father had dug into her soul after picking a hefty work schedule with a voluptuous secretary over spending time with his little girl.
Adult girls who had a thing for Disney made Wes cringe more than a pedophile around pubic hair.
Wes scanned the bar once more with a hurried desperation looking for a girl to plow like a coked up farmer. He visualized himself as the Terminator, scanning girls for possible daddy issues or ones who weren’t here to hook up but were looking for love and commitment. Love and commitment in Wes’ eyes was the vile imaginative aspects of life that were programmed into gullible women who dropped their walls of sanity to the works of Nicholas Sparks.
Love and commitment in this day and age made about as much sense as an over bearing entity who commanded a man circumsize his son and a magical being who could walk on water and turn water into wine, like a low budget Criss Angel or David Blaine.
Wes continued to scan the bar with a rushed aggressive glance. It was on the third look over that he realized he had passed by a busty blonde who was physically twin like with the Disney fan girl. The improvement regarding this bombshell was that she wore clothing from the same stores Wes shopped at. She was probably used to a man who bathed in cologne, hopefully that didn’t mean she had slept with a Persian. Wes swallowed vomit at the thought of this woman being tainted by a Persian who probably worked out during the graveyard shift and wore all Puma.
Wes walked up to the blonde and leaned on the bar as he smirked at her.
“Hey, we shop in the same section of the mall. Wanna go back to my place?”
The girl looked into Wes’ eyes with a look of thought and concentration.
“Did you have a ridiculous fascination with the film 300 in high school?”
Wes rolled his eyes. “Psh of course! Every workout I do up in the fucking gym is Spartan approved babe.”
Wes followed this comment up by doing a double biceps pose and then bringing his arms down to puff his chest out. They were the only two body parts he worked on.
“In middle school did you want to be Duke Nukem?”
“Have you ever raped a girl and celebrated by going home and watching Entourage.”
Wes leaned in so what he said would be a whisper. “While smelling my fingers as I watched an entire season in one sitting.”
“Ok you can defile me.” The busty blonde downed her martini and began to make her way to the door. Wes thought about making a comment about how she should save that to drink after he cums in her mouth, but thought it was better to make jokes in such bad taste after he got his sweet American pie.
After Wes ejaculated on the girl’s back, he tossed her a used towel from earlier to wipe herself off. He’s huffing and puffing while laughing to himself like a runner who had won an impossible race.
“Wow, that was more acrobatic than what they make those Chinese kids do to decide if their parents live.”
“It was ok.” Replied the busty blonde. She then glanced at the ground and saw something that made her heart do back flips.
“Oh my god is that a condom?”
Wes looked at it with a look as if he was recalling a long lost memory and laughed. “O yeah, I took it off right before I penetrated you.”
The girl looked at him like she had just used aftershave for the first time.
“What?” said Wes, shrugging his shoulders. “Gonorrhea is still treatable right?”
“So are you going to eat me out or what?”
Wes looked at the busty blonde like she had just reached into a jar full of leeches, grabbed a fistful and shoved said fist into her vagina.
The busty blonde shook her head, as if to shake off an outburst of anger. “I said are you going to eat me out? My pussy feels like a fire!”
Wes glared at her. “Well then maybe you should go make some s’mores.”
The girl gave Wes a surprised laugh. “I’d prefer your tongue.”
Wes frowned. “I don’t exactly do that sort of thing.”
The girl looked at him as her jaw dropped trying to process what he was saying. “But I sucked your dick!”
Wes shook his head with a joyful laugh behind it. “You see, that is completely different. An erected penis is like a wonderful piece of exotic fruit, enticing to the taste buds. It is a multi-layered piece of candy if you will, like a tootsie pop. Give it a few licks and a foamy prize comes oozing down into your throat. It’s like cracking open a coconut on an island owned by a multi-millionaire. But a vagina, now a vagina is not sweet to the taste buds, more bitter and acidic, like a lemon grown on a tree in the darkest pit of hell. Why would I eat something as filthy as a vagina? I might as well eat out of a dumpster behind Taco Bell. For Christ’s sake you bleed from there! I wouldn’t eat a dead fetus, why would I eat a vagina?”
The busty blonde stoo
“Sorry if I won’t do something only a Fear Factor contestant would!” shouted Wes.
After the excruciating sex and ejaculating what felt like a five pound dumbbell, Wes decided it was time to rest. He laid down and closed his eyes.
“Fuck a woman and don’t make her cum and they all turn insane, such a
The Feminazis by Emilio Amaro / Horror / Thrillers & Crime have rating 4.5 out of 5 / Based on18 votes