“God, men are such jerks!” Clarice said, lips buried in the creamy foam of a pumpkin spice latte.
The two of them sat in the porch of Clarice’s house for their customary Saturday reunion of badmouthing anything that needed to be badmouthed. When it came to the male gender, Janet usually did the honors so it was a genuine surprise to see her baby sister take the lead this time around. As curious as she was, she couldn’t help but want to learn more.
“It’s just... I thought Rick was different, I really did!”
“He’s in a lot of trouble, that’s for sure.”
“Only if you promise not to say ‘I told you so’, okay?”
“So... I came home last night, exhausted as hell, and found him jerking off in our bedroom...”
“Let me finish, please. He was jerking off to a video of some blonde bimbo, eyes glazed, and drooling. He pretended I wasn’t in the room and when I yelled at him asking for an explanation you know what he did? He said: ‘Explanation to what? I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Can you believe it? I caught him with his pants down, jizz all over his legs, computer screen on, and he had the nerve to feign innocence! I got so mad I kicked him out! What an asshole, right?”
“You guess? What does that even mean?”
“Excuse me? You were already crucifying him when I started talking and now you think I overreacted? What gives, Jan?”
“No! Why would I bother to watch the porn my boyfriend was wanking off to?”
Clarice laid down the cup of coffee before her nerves got the best of her. “Seriously? That’s an even dumber excuse than the one he tried to pull off. I can’t believe you’re siding with him on this.”
“Janet, I love you, but you’re full of horseshit, sometimes.”
“Fine!” Clarice conceded, using her sister’s curiosity as an excuse to her own. Yes, she had wanted to watch the video but if felt wrong, almost like a deadly sin. Unlike Janet, she had never gotten rid of the religious views their mother had imposed while growing up and porn... well, porn was a one-way ticket to Hell waiting to be claimed. Walking side by side, the two mid-thirties women left the porch and entered the bedroom, cum stains still visible on the rugged carpet. Clarice turned on the computer, peered into the browser’s history and clicked on the video player.
“Pure trash!” Clarice said.
Clarice rolled her eyes at her sister’s remark, but she had to admit to her being partially right. They were perfect... ly fake, too round, too stiff, an outrage to all women who fought the game of seduction with natural weapons. And what was that thing near the left aureola? A little pink heart tattoo? Ridiculous! No self-respecting woman would ever allow her body to be tainted like... Fuck!
“Don’t you...?” Clarice mumbled. “Don’t you...?”
“... have a tattoo just like that...?”
“I... Janet, what did you do?”
Clarice’s eyes widened in absolute terror as her sister twisted her left arm and forced her to kneel in front of the screen. The video played on a loop as her thoughts dissolved one by one.