The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County by Magan Vernon & H.J. Bellus

Author:Magan Vernon & H.J. Bellus [Vernon, Magan & Bellus, H.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01IQ53CQO
Publisher: Two Funny Girls
Published: 2016-07-24T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Queenie

Wet Dreams Do Come True

“What are you girls doing?”

Blanche’s screeching voice invades my quite delicious dream. It was all of Brady’s tight ass that was in perfect view last night. Blanche continues hollering and stomping down the hallway, and that’s when reality hits me and I sit straight up in my bed. The glaring red numbers on my alarm clock is my first sign of my morning going to hell.

It’s nine twenty-five and I was supposed to have the girls at the field fifteen minutes ago. Annie had been begging to have a sleepover with Sadie, and of course it would be the night I had a damn wet dream about Sadie’s uncle’s ass. Leaving the mess behind in the bed, I jump up quickly and grab new panties and my bedazzled jeggings, while jetting for the living room before Blanche busts my balls.

As soon as I swing open the door to my bedroom, Blanche is there ready to bust through.

“Morning, sexy babe.” I run my hands through my hair, which I’m sure it standing up on end.

“Sleep in, much?” She taps her designer knee-high leather boots. Her highlights shine even in the dimly lit hallway, but I don’t dare compliment her on her hair in this moment.

“Just showered and ready to roll.” I offer up a weak ass, totally busted smile.

“Move.” Blanche pushes by me. “Where is he?”

“Who?” I scratch my head completely confused.

“They guy you were just banging.” Blanche throws open the door to my master bathroom and then my walk-in closet. “Seriously, Queenie?”

“I wasn’t with a man. Just slept in a bit and then showered.”

“Really.” She throws her hand on her hip. “Your hair is dry and day old glitter is still on your face.”

“Blanche. Enough. I’m late and you’re just making us later.”

She waltzes over to my bed, and I’m not sure whether it’s my panties she steps in first or the crime scene on the bed that finally puts all the puzzle pieces together.

“Eeewwwww,” she squeals in an ear piercing shrill.

“Your brother’s ass, okay? I blew my load in a wet dream remembering his tight ass from last night.” My hands now perched on my hips with my sassy attitude radiating from me.

“God,” she huffs out and rolls her eyes. “You’re gross. I thought gay men weren’t pigs.”

I laugh out loud at our inside joke and wrap her up in a tight hug. “You love me, Blanchey Boo.”

“You better not have any of your damn baby batter left on you.”

“My baby batter would make you shine, my darling, it’s full glitter.”

“Go.” She pushes off me. “And get a damn shirt on and some shoes, we have to face hell bitch, Moira, and put up with Douchey Doug reffing.”

Blanche marches out of the room, and I hustle to find the rest of my clothing. I worry about that girl and all the damn hatred she holds for people in this town, especially Moira and Doug. It’s not healthy for her or the baby. I’ve seen

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