Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [31]
As this was no mere T&A competition, it was time for Q&A with Cricket.
Question: How did you come up with the idea for your bikini?
Answer: Cricket just celebrated her twenty-first birthday. The cake inspired her.
Question: What do you do for a living?
Answer: Cricket is a “dancer” taking classes at a community college in New Jersey.
The initial shock had worn off, so I took a better look at Cricket. Her dark blond hair was done up in pigtails that went well with her surprisingly innocent face. She had invested in teardrop-shaped breast implants—which gave her a nice D-cup rack without the tacky double-beach-ball effect. She accessorized the frosting with red patent leather do-me shoes paired with lacy little-girl anklets. Despite her lack of education, she was very shrewd, this Cricket. She knew the guidos wouldn't be able to resist the whole good girl/bad girl thing. (Men love that saint/slut dichotomy, as evidenced by popular porn prototypes including, but not exclusive to, the naughty, naughty schoolgirl; the naughty, naughty librarian; and the naughty, naughty nurse.) She exited the stage to thunderous applause and chants of “Crick-et! Crick-et!”
Contestant #2 certainly had her work cut out for her. Sammi came out in a red Saran Wrap bikini, which looked downright nunlike after Cricket's Duncan Hines number. She too had a sweet face, and her XXX body seemed designed for use as a male masturbatory aid. Nothing jiggled unless it was supposed to. This point was clearly illustrated in the talent portion of the competition, when she flexed each breast one at a time like the greased-up male bodybuilders on ESPN2. Her DD cups made this no small feat. I was much impressed, because I have a better shot at telekinetic titty flexing than moving my A-minus boobs through pectoral muscle power alone.
Lia, the third contestant, was introduced. She was about 5´10¨ and 100 pounds, maximum. Her pointy hips and nonexistent breasts were easily covered with a sort of chain mail made out of interlocked safety pins. Bethany mouthed the word “Anorexic.” I mouthed back “Ew.” The guidos agreed (“No cushion for the pushin',” declared one), and barely clapped when she quickly exited the stage after an abbreviated Q&A session.
I was about to congratulate the guido next to me for not perpetuating the starvation aesthetic when I was silenced by Contestant #4, who came out wearing three dollops of whipped cream. Like Cricket and Sammi, Ginger Lynn had a tight ass and huge, synthetic hooters, though hers were of the beach-ball variety. Also unlike the fresh-faced competition, Ginger Lynn had home-dyed, Kentucky fried hair, and an unfortunate schnozz. She knew she couldn't get away with the “I'm a nice girl who just happens to be naked” angle, so she resorted to skankier measures.
“So, Ginger Lynn, why don't you tell the audience what your favorite hobby is?”
She grabbed hold of the microphone.
“FUCKING!”
I expected the boys to go berserk, but her slutty announcement was met with a humiliating lack of interest. I was starting to have a whole new respect for the male gender. First the anorexic rejection, now this. They saw through her thinly veiled attempts to win them over with the promise of an expert lay by a nymphomaniac, and I was proud of them. But then I heard the truth from the Jack Daniels–swilling guido to my right.
“I'd fuck her if she put a bag over her head.”
Bethany clucked her tongue in disapproval. Apparently sluts are acceptable. Ugly sluts, well, that's another story. I never thought I'd feel sorry for a hobag with gravity-defying knockers—but I did.
While the panel of their “peers” (former homemade bikini queens by day and sex industry pros at night) voted, the MC reminded us what was in store for the Third Annual Homemade