Big Hard Girls

by Nikki Crescent

  Ray had successfully obtained a date six times in Fuckeries history. He’d obtained a kiss twice, but it was never enough to win. Of course both times he got a kiss, his roommates all at least got blowjobs. Ray had never had a blowjob in his life, or sex for that matter. He was a virgin, but he didn’t want his roommates to know that. He figured agreeing to Fuckeries would be a good way to get rid of his virginity, but apparently all it was doing was rubbing his virginity in his face.

  Ray found a bit of hope with Tinder, the dating app. He made an account, uploaded his best pictures, and he swiped on every girl above a six. He would sit in his room and swipe for ages until his phone buzzed with a match. He was painfully used to seeing the message: “Sorry, I meant to swipe the other way!” But occasionally he would get, “How’s it going?”

  He knew that he had a tendency to come on too strong. He was always trying so hard not to sound desperate that he would end up sounding terribly desperate. Girls would usually stop messaging him back after five or six messages, but occasionally he would find a girl who was willing to give him a shot. It was a late March evening when one girl decided to give Ray a shot.

  Her name was Veronica. She was short and a little bit chubby, but Ray figured she passed as a six. She had a cute face and a cute smile and very large breasts. In her profile description, she wrote that she considered herself more of a Betty. Ray enjoyed the little joke.

  It was a simple little date: have a few drinks together by the river, talk a bit, see if the relationship could possibly go anywhere. Ray showed up early down at the waterside: forty minutes early. He paced back and forth as his nerves tingled. He kept looking at her profile on his phone, and then he kept praying that Mason and the other guys would let her pass as a six out of ten. She had one picture where she was bikini-clad and without makeup. Her puffy gut hung over her bikini bottoms, and the harsh sunlight made her eyes look dark and beady. If the guys saw that picture, they certainly wouldn’t let her pass as a six. But maybe he could just show them the other pictures.

  Veronica showed up ten minutes late, which didn’t bother Ray. Though it did bother Ray that she showed up with three friends: all just as portly as her. As soon as they saw Ray, they al started whispering and giggling. Ray pretended not to notice, though it was hard to hide his trembling legs. “Hi Veronica,” he said, waving and feeling smaller than ever. She probably weighed forty pounds more than him, but he was probably thirty pounds underweight so it wasn’t too big of a deal, right?

  “Ray, right?” one of the friends said.

  Ray nodded his head and the girls giggled again. Ray felt his heart flutter down into his gut. Was this just a setup for a big joke? Did Veronica only ask him to meet up so that her and her friends could have some sort of depraved laugh? “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Sorry—I just brought my friends along in case you were like a murderer or something,” Veronica said. Then she turned to her friends and shooed them off. They giggled again and then went off towards the bar across the pier. “Sorry about that,” she said once they were alone.

  “No worries,” Ray said with a smile. It was probably a good call. “Girls shouldn’t be meeting up with strangers at night in desolate places.”

  “They told me the same thing. You’re cuter than your profile picture,” she said. And Ray had to force a smile. ‘Cute’ isn’t a great compliment for a man. In fact, to Ray, it was an insult, but he knew she was just trying to be nice. Guys don’t want to be cute. They want to be handsome or rugged or intimidating or maybe sexy—but not cute.

  Ray handed Veronica a beer. “I just got what was on sale. I hope it’s okay,” he said.

  She cracked it and took a long drink. She wasn’t quite as chubby as she looked in her photos—or maybe it was just the flattering spill of the streetlights. She really did have a cute face. Her eyes were big and she clearly put lots of effort into her makeup and her hair and her outfit—and she smelled nice too—though Ray couldn’t help but notice the smell of vodka when he took a seat next to her on the edge of the pier. “So what kind of things do you like?” Ray asked. His heart was pounding. It was only the seventh date of his entire life—and it was a point for the week. As far as he knew, the other guys didn’t have points yet. For once, there was a chance he wouldn’t be the loser. And maybe he could take it further than just a date. Maybe he could get a kiss, or maybe she would be the lucky recipient of Ray’s virginity.

  They talked for a good hour, sipping beer after beer. Ray quickly learned that they didn’t have a lot in common, but luckily Veronica liked to hear herself talk, so she just went on and on while Ray nodded and occasionally tossed in another question to keep her going, like tossing a log onto a slowly burning bonfire. It was after three beers and however much vodka she drank before showing up that Veronica ended up staring into Ray’s eyes. “You really are very cute,” she said again, as if it was a compliment, as if she was talking to her pet hamster.

  “Thanks,” Ray said. And he knew she was hoping for a kiss.

  There was a moment of silence, and then Veronica said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  Ray started to lean forward, and then he remembered that he needed proof. So he pulled out his phone.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, staring down at his phone.

  “I thought maybe we could get a picture—you know, just in case this works out between us. Wouldn’t it be awesome to have a picture of our first kiss?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess so,” she said. So Ray held out his camera and then he leaned in for a kiss. The magic of the moment was suddenly gone, but at least he got his kiss and he had the picture to prove it. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Is that it?” she asked.

  “Is what it?”

  “Is that the kiss?” So Ray leaned in again and gave her another kiss. But he wasn’t sure what she wanted. She wasn’t giving him much to work with: keeping her lips shut and her body stiff. After the second kiss, she rolled her eyes. “It’s because I’m fat, isn’t it?”

  And now Ray was frightened and confused. Tears were forming in Veronica’s eyes, and he had no idea what to do about it. “You aren’t fat,” he said, forcing a big smile. And it was true: she wasn’t fat. She was just chubby—or maybe she was fat. Relative to the general population, she was only slightly larger than average. But then again, the general population was a little bit fat.

  “I know I’m fat. I know I’m not perfect. No one’s perfect,” she said. And now her vulnerabilities were pouring out faster than Ray could push them back in.

  “You aren’t fat. You’re just a bit bigger. Who cares?” And then he saw in her eyes that this was not the right thing to say.

  She was silent for a moment and then she pulled out her phone and started texting her friends.

  “What are you doing?” Ray asked.

  “I’m going home.” She stood up suddenly, puffing out her chest. “And to think—I was going to suck your cock.” She turned around and started walking away. Ray knew he’d probably just dodged a bullet, but he’d also missed his opportunity to be a winner for once in his life.

  “Wait!” he said, springing up to his feet. But Veronica didn’t wait. She was bawling her eyes out now in a very unflattering way. She scurried away faster than he could catch up, leaving him with nothing but a blurry picture of a half-assed kiss. At least it was something—at least he had two points on the board for the week, which may have been enough to not be a loser.

  CHAPTER II

  Ray had a big smile on his face as he sat on the living room couch, waiting for his roommates to make their way down from their rooms for the weekly ‘awards ceremony,’ as Mason called it. Mason was the last to show up, eyes heavy and still in his plaid pyjama pants. It was almost 2:00 PM and he’d just woken up after a long night of partying. He looked at Ray with one eyebrow raised high. “Why are you looking so smug?” he asked.

  Ray tried his best to keep a straight face. “What do
you mean? I’m just waiting for you guys.”

  Aaron came down next, still with his video game headset on. “Let’s hurry this up. I have a game starting in seven minutes,” he said. And then he flicked his headset back on and continued chatting with his video game team. Aaron was unemployed and always playing video games. Ray couldn’t wrap his head around how Aaron was ever able to get laid when he spent fourteen hours a day gaming.

  Paul was the last to come down. He was dressed for work, in his dress shirt and slacks. “Work on a Sunday, Paul?” Mason asked.

  “Funeral—my great aunt. I never actually met her.” Ray didn’t bother telling him that a white dress shirt and a red tie probably wasn’t an appropriate combination for a funeral. “I’m hoping it’s quick because I don’t want to miss that new Game of Thrones episode.”

  “Okay then, let’s just get this over with. Everyone get out their proof,” Mason said. Ray could tell by everyone’s demeanour that they probably didn’t have much. They all seemed to be in a rush, and they’d all been abnormally busy that week. Ray couldn’t help but notice that Paul wasn’t even getting his phone out. He was just sitting there, staring at the floor as if he had nothing. “Cool, so I fucked this blonde chick at this party last night. I came in her without a condom, and she sucked my dick. So that’s six points. I even stuck it in her ass at one point, but I didn’t get a picture of that—so I’ll just settle with my six points.” First, he showed a picture of the girl. She was a cute blonde with a cute smile. Then he showed a picture of the top of her head pressed between his bare, hairy legs. Then he showed a picture of her being stuffed by his Coca-Cola can cock. Ray was sick of seeing pictures of that dick. He wasn’t surprised, but he wasn’t thrilled. So he didn’t win, but at least he probably wouldn’t lose.

  “I got head from some chubby chick. But she was kind of cute… This happened two nights ago,” said Aaron. He turned his phone around and then Ray’s heart fluttered down into his stomach. He was looking at a picture of Veronica, on her knees, sucking his long, curved cock. So she really was out looking to suck a dick. Ray felt his face turning dark red.

  “Well, I kissed that same girl,” he said awkwardly, turning his phone around for the guys to see. They all started laughing.

  “Hopefully not after I was finished with her, or you probably tasted my cum!” said Aaron before he started laughing hysterically. Ray was too embarrassed to admit when the date was. It was possible he kissed her after she sucked the cum out from his rod.

  “Well, Paul? Can you top a cum-flavoured kiss from a land whale?” Everyone laughed, and Ray suddenly felt like a loser, even though he was pretty sure he’d just come in third place.

  “Uh,” Paul said, “I fucked this chick. Do I have a picture? Oh yeah, here.” He turned around his phone and showed a picture of a girl on all fours, with his cock pressed into her tight slit. “I’ll show you a picture of her face later, but I think I’m going to be late.” He stood up. “I promise she was a seven though.” And then he left for his great-aunt’s funeral.

  And then the other guys looked at Ray with big grins. He was the loser, again, for the twentieth week in a row. Or was it the twenty-first week in a row? It didn’t matter. Now he had to go to the liquor store and spend forty bucks on booze, and then he had to spend the week cleaning dishes and washing bed sheets and acting like the housemaid. And he basically was the housemaid at this point, constantly cleaning. He was unfortunately familiar with Mason’s underwear selection. He’d lost track of how many times he’d cleaned the football star’s laundry.

  Ray dragged his feet across the road to the liquor store. He walked in and the store clerk looked at him with a pathetic glare. “Lose again?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Ray as he went to get his roommates’ favourite booze. He didn’t even have to ask his roommates. He knew exactly what they liked: Paul only drank Bud Light, Aaron liked Heineken, and Mason liked Budweiser in the summer and Guinness in the winter.

  “It’s all about confidence,” the store clerk called out from across the empty liquor store. “You need to believe in yourself.”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Ray hauled the first two cases over to the counter.

  “You know there’s this really great e-seminar on YouTube about building confidence. I highly recommend it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ray said.

  “I didn’t even tell you what it’s called. Don’t you want to know what it’s called?”

  “Sure, I guess so,” Ray said, hoping it would get the guy to shut up.

  “It’s called Divine Confidence. It’s by a guy called Sandeep Singh. He gets all of the ladies.”

  Ray forced a smile, nodded his head, and then paid the bill. He tried to think of how much money he’d spent on liquor that wasn’t even for himself. Probably close to a thousand bucks at this point… He hauled the liquor back to the house in two trips, and then he went up to his room so he could be alone.

  He wasn’t so upset over the competition—the competition was just a reminder that all of his friends were out having fun with beautiful women while Ray couldn’t even get a little bit of action from a girl who may or may not have been a six out of ten. He wanted to get the occasional blowjob, maybe even the occasional pussy. He’d never even touched a pair of tits before. In fact, Veronica was probably the closest he’d ever come to any sort of sexual action. Technically, he kissed her twice, which was twice as many times as his previous record.

  Ray may have been scrawny and short, but he wasn’t a bad-looking guy. Like Veronica said, he was ‘cute’. Surely cute should have been good for some girls, no? Whenever he walked around campus, he was always shocked to see ugly guys walking hand-in-hand with bombshell beauties. Girls were always telling him, “It’s not about looks,” and maybe they were right—but then how was Mason getting so much action? What did he have going for him besides his looks? His football success? Well Ray didn’t have any sort of success to boast either…

  He reluctantly opened up his Tinder app and started swiping on girls, hoping to get a head start on the week so that he could maybe avoid having to spend another forty bucks on beer in a week’s time. After forty minutes, his thumb was starting to feel sore from the constant swiping, but he had to keep going. He needed every little advantage he could get.

  He finally stopped for a break—and to look at the beautiful woman who was now on his screen. Her name was Cass and she had gorgeous platinum blonde hair and a sly smile. She was way out of Ray’s league—the kind of girl Mason would be delighted to bag. Ray closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world where Cass would go for a guy like him—but even in his fantasy imagination he couldn’t seem to delude himself into thinking a girl like Cass would go for a guy like him. Regardless, he swiped on her anyway, just in the off chance she would swipe on Ray.

  He put his phone away for the night and went to sleep early. He had to work in the morning, unlike his roommates who could spend their day in the gym and at the bar, working on their bodies and racking up the points for another week of Fuckeries.

  CHAPTER III

  Every morning, Ray woke up in the same way: three alarm cycles and plenty of groaning. He hated getting up for work, knowing that he would be spending an entire day standing behind a counter, putting up with insufferable people. His body would refuse to acknowledge that the weekend was over, so he would usually grab his phone, turn up the brightness, and stare at it until his brain flicked on.

  That morning, when he stared at his phone’s screen, he noticed a new notification: ‘You have a match!’ He groggily swiped on the notification, to see if it was just a mistake, and then his heart flew up and began to throb against his ribcage. He’d matched with Cass.

  He sat up quickly, suddenly awake. He navigated over to the conversation window, which was still blank. She was waiting for him to make the first move. He sat in his bed for the next fifteen minutes, trying desperately to think of something witty
to say. Someone once told him to always open with a joke on Tinder, but he couldn’t think of a good opening joke. He was never much of a jokester anyway. So just went with a simple, “Hey, how are you?”

  And then he found himself staring at the screen with wide eyes, waiting for a response. He knew that response probably wouldn’t come in the morning. She was probably asleep—she probably didn’t work the same miserable hours as Ray, seeing as she was young and beautiful. Beautiful people never work miserable slave-wage hours.

  He was shocked when that glowing ellipses actually appeared on his screen: she was typing a message. He bit down on his tongue and tried not to get his hopes up. He knew that, more likely than not, she was about to tell him the same thing beautiful women always told him: ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to match with you!’ But to his surprise, she said, “I’m doing really well! How are you doing?”

  He spent another fifteen minutes trying to come up with a response. Finally, he came up with, “I’m good. Had a good weekend and now I’m already looking forward to next weekend.” He realized how lame it sounded after he pressed send. And then he realized he was running late for work. So he slipped his phone into his pocket, quickly got dressed and brushed his teeth, and then he took off for the bus stop. He barely made the bus, which was crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with people. He managed to squeeze between two large men, which was where he remained for the next thirty minutes, until he was at the small downtown framing shop where he worked. It wasn’t until he was settled into his place behind the counter that he pulled out his phone and saw that Cass had replied.