Gamer Girl - Holly Santos

"Uhm hey, which button is block?" Holly asked numbly.

"OH, YOU JUST HIT THE R2 BUTTON IN FRONT OF THE CONTROLLER!!" Walter blurted out earning an elbow shove from Gerald.

"Thanks baby, you might get that blowjob someday." Holly replied with a juvenile smirk that made Walter blush. She took her time going through the characters until we were fit to be tied before picking Sindel, an undead witch character.

"Ah man, don't pick her; she's lame." Walter commented again quickly muting himself under our dual threatening gazes from both of us. I glanced at Gerald with a knowing nod, knowing we had matching aspirations of bringing her down karmically.

The second the online verbal prompt exploded from my surround sound speakers; Scorpion teleported out reappearing on either side of Sindel scoring devastating blows in subsequent martial exchanges before launching his signature harpoon at the spectral witch with his legendary kunai spear.

Holly frantically mashed down on the buttons but was inexorably drawn into a devastating uppercut that drew that ended the first match in decisive fashion. She stared at the screen for a few seconds as Gerald paused the next match.

"Oh, uhm I guess you guys are serious, huh?" Holly looked nauseous as we shook our heads in unison.

"The rules, Holly." I reminded looking at my wrist as if checking the time on some nonexistent watch. Holly groaned scratching her lions mane of bushy hair.

"Okay, pervs." She peeled off her oversized football jersey tossing over in Gerald's lap. Underneath she was wearing an equally large white cotton tank.

Her enormous breasts stretched the material to capacity ridiculously bulging out the sides at her armpits while her cleavage surged in an upward motion presenting twin mountains of honey soaked flesh that elicited an audible gasp from Walter. There was so much cleavage that it looked like a large, jiggly derriere rising up out of her undershirt.

There were thick straps of material cutting into the soft flesh of her shoulders from the reinforced brassiere under her shirt. Holly Santos was essentially mooning us with her boobs. I'm not ashamed to say that all of us were severely affected by the sight.

"Are we done here; I've got things to do." Holly replied sarcastically noting the expressions on our faces collectively.

"Your funeral."

The online verbal prompt sounded again with Gerald predictably repeating same serious of teleporting moves, however on the second blow, Holly countered using her character's six foot shock of bleached white hair to garb and slam Scorpion into the ground. Before Gerald could react, she'd already sent him into the air again with two swiping uppercuts. Holly's character made quick work of Scorpion with a banshee's scream that pit him down for good.

"Oh, okay now we're getting into it." Holly laughed, still frantically mashing down on the buttons making it likely she'd won by accident.

"Oh you got jokes, huh baby?!!"

Gerald lurched forward sitting on the edge of the cushions, focused on the rubber match that would decide if Holly was losing another article of clothing. She failed to realize that I would demand she strip nude upon losing and kick rocks.

"I don't hear your showbusiness tubby; let's do it!" Holly retorted taking a jab at his portly stature.

"Get ready to eat a fucking L, baby!!"

Sindel became a whirling dervish of acrobatic somersaults scoring a stinging combo of hits that depleted Gerald's health bar in seconds. The unearthly pale sorceress added insult to injury by mimicking Scorpion's spear with her hair sending the deadly lock into the ninja's face before she whipped her head backwards drawing the avatar into a vicious roundhouse kick that decapitated it. The blood red word "BRUTALITY" appeared over the witch's head as Gerald leaned back on the couch, hand pressed into his temple.

"LLORAME UN RIO TE GORDAS, MADRE DESCUBIERTA FUCKER!!" Nobody was surprised at Holly's Spanish language jeers when she scored a win.

"Gerald, you lost." Walter added finishing up his mug of coffee. I got up to make him another cup because he was still wobbly.

"Man, shut the fuck up; you beat her then."

"Sure ah will Gerald, because I wanna see them titties." Holly laughed heartily with a hand pressed against her cleavage. My friend's eyes were glued to those bouncing jugs as Walter gingerly took custody of the controller.

My mind wandered replaying every boorish detail of Holly's afternoon rampage through my personal space. I internally noted how calculated and malevolent the busty reprobate could be when pursuing a goal and it gave me pause. She was a perfect storm, a characteristic enigma that wouldn't be solved anytime soon. She didn't seem to mean me any harm, but I didn't like how she kept withholding the reason she was intent on having me at her side in some obvious mission of mischief.

"WHAT-THE-ACTUAL FUCK?!!" Walter's slow, drunken drawl interrupted my brainstorming session as I added a few spoonful's of powdered chocolate to his coffee for flavor.

I wondered if I would be more angry at Holly for what she'd done to my friend if she looked any different. I walked into the living room with the cup. Sindel was in the process of repeatedly slamming Walter's avatar into the ground with that aforementioned shock of hair using it like a prehensile whip until his avatar's head bounced free of his body.

Robocop never looked so bad as Sindel turned towards the screen looking out at all of us. BRUTALITY appeared over the characters head signaling the second and final loss for Walter. He was crestfallen staring down at the controller in his hands as I set the mug in front of him. Gerald looked suitably flustered.

"Hey Walter?"

"Yeah ah fucked it up; you making fun of me, too?" He whimpered.

"Of course not; I like you, dumb nigga." Holly could be brutal even when she was trying to be nice reaching over patting his knee. There was a contrite half smile on her face as she noticed a pen and some junk mail on my coffee table. She scribbled something down on an envelope, handing it to him.

"What's this, Holly?"

"My Only Fans account; that's a code that lets you have a free membership for a month. There's a lot of titty pics on there if you get my drift homeboy." She winked at him with a smile that made the alcohol addled goof, flush.

"You gotta Only Fans account?!" I stammered.

"Well yeah, geez get with it Derrick; a girl's gotta have that bag and don't trip because it's just pics of my cleavage a lot and my face is digitally wiped. I only got maybe five or ten photos with my tits really out anyway." Holly's casual explanation made me feel like an idiot, but it made sense knowing her as I did.

"Thank you, Holly." Gerald tried to glance at the information on the envelope, but Walter pressed it against his chest out of view, instantly his most prized possession.

"Now you have fun with that, and don't get carpal tunnel syndrome, boy."

"Uh okay." Holly glanced at the face of her phone, her eyes flashing intense for a millisecond.

"¡¡Date prisa, carajo, DERRICK, NO TENGO TODO EL FOLLADO DÍA!!" The sense of urgency in her voice told me we were fast approaching some unknown window of opportunity for her plan.

"Okay baby, let's do it." I sat down picking my avatar.

Kung Lao was just as iconic as Scorpion and Robocop appearing on the large flatscreen television. I enjoyed the monk's eastern themed cowboy attire and razor tipped fedora initially but didn't like later redesigns of the character because they dispensed with this appealing visual trait.

"Kung Lao is a fucking poser with that stupid ass hat; I'm gonna shove it up his fucking ass." Her tone was mean, aggressive, and desperate. I set the controller down on the table folding my arms across my chest.

"Gerald, I used to live down mid-city near metro college, it was one of the best times in my life because of all the college girls I was pulling and my choice of food courts. It was so cool because there was always something popping off. But you what my favorite thing to do was?"

"What man?"

"Going to the 24 hour arcade across the street from the school; gave me an appreciation of video games lost on the console generation we got these days. The kids these days don't realize how much a group experience adds to playing arcade games. Kinda like going to a movie on Friday night in the hood. I've played every iteration of Mortal Kombat." I picked up the controller unpausing the game.

Holly immediately launched a wild combo meant to take me down quickly, but Kung Lao deftly sidestepped the opening volley initiating a juggling combo of his own that ended with a series of kicks before the triumphant monk football spike his razor tipped fedora as the words FLAWLESS VICTORY appeared onscreen in a modest golden colored font. I paused the game again staring over art Holly Santos along with my buddies.

"Holly?"

She did a slow burn staring at my avatar onscreen as Kung Lao used a Jedi-like trick to recall his weapon ready for the deciding battle that would determine if she were leaving my place in her birthday suit. Her cheeks puffed up, eyes becoming slits as she yanked the hem of her tank top up giving us a peek at her soft belly. All of were surprised when instead, Holly reached under the cotton shirt wriggling about removing her huge underwire brassiere. She somberly tossed it into my lap sitting back staring me in the eye. The realization was already there as I set my controller down again.

"There you go, okay?" She mumbled, blinking profusely.

"Yeah Gerald like I said before, I used to kick it at the all night arcade because that was all my meager salary would allow after bills. I was damn good at Mortal Kombat but there was this uh, Mexican guy I couldn't beat for shit. One day I worked up the courage to ask him why that was, and do you know what he told me."

"What man?"

"Paulo, that was his name; he said I'd gone as far as I could with the regular guys but if I wanted to get really good, I'd have to face the real masters of the game. He told me about these six Korean guys, students at Metro who played most of the time during the final exam period at school in the middle of the night. These guys were fucking crazy man, cramming for finals all day hopped up on candy bars and caffeine' only coming to the arcade after midnight to work off the stress with arcade games."

"That's how you got so good?" Walter asked sipping from his mug while Holly checked her phone.

"Well I encountered these guys one rainy Saturday night looking for some real competition and after one game, got my ass handed to me. They made me feel like a toddler fighting an adult, completely humiliated me. So I came back, but none of them would play me again."

"So how'd you earn there respect and learn how to play so good?" Walter was curious.

"I didn't; I got a new job near the airport and didn't have the time to play at the arcade anymore."

"SO, YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU DIDN'T LEARN SOME SECRET GAMING TECHNIQUES FROM THOSE KOREAN GUYS?!!" Gerald was irritated.

"No, but imagine how good I would be, if I did."

My buddies chuckled at the stupidity of my story as I picked up my controller ready to close out Holly Santos and have her walking in the pale moonlight in the buff.

"You stupid man." Walter was giggling uncontrollably before noticing the trajectory of our gaze. He followed it finding Holly sitting hunched over staring down at the PlayStation controller in her trembling hands.

"Muy bien, me tienes muerto, cariño. ¿Estas feliz ahora?" She was breathing hard, every intake of air distinctly audible.

"It's okay Holly."

The story being told was meant to let her know that I knew a ringer when I saw one. After she took down Gerald in seconds, I sussed out her intent to embarrass all three of us and there was no way that shit was going down after she fucked up my day. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she kept her face downcast.

Gerald nudged me directing my gaze to her hands. Tears droplets were splashing on the controller. Right there in that moment Holly Santos burst into tears, sobbing hard. She was full on ugly crying looking up at our faces both nostril running.

"YOU WIN DERRICK; YOU HAPPY NOW?!!" I'd finally called her bluff as Walter and Gerald exchanged glances. This was the first time since they met, that Holly showed overt weakness.

"Cut that out girl." I got up running over placing a hand on her shoulder which got batted away followed by her controller flying across the room bouncing off the adjacent wall in a childish tantrum.

"Apuesto a que todos ustedes, madres de puta, están muy felices AHORA MISMO PORQUE PUEDEN VER COMO SE VE UNA MUJER DE VERDAD!! ¡¡VAS A ESTAR JERKING CONMIGO POR EL RESTO DE TU VIDA, LO SENTIMOS, PERDEDORES DE POLLAS COJIDAS!! FOLLATE DERRICK, MADRE FUCKER NEGRA!!"

Holly stood up sobbing wiping an arm across her nose beginning to raise the hem of her tank. The bare undersides of her breasts came into view before I grabbed the hem of her shirt yanking it back down.

"Okay bitch, let's go." I gave the sniffling girl a shove towards the front door.

"Derrick man, what the hell?!!" Gerald yelled.

"Hey, we gotta step out for a minute; hang out and lock my place up if I ain't back right away." I snatched up Holly's jersey pushing it into her chest as my friends scoffed. I was deliberately cheating them out of seeing her epic knockers.

"Damn man, you're a simp!"

"Get over it; don't forget to lock up." Both of them looked beyond pissed they'd been gypped out of a decisive victory. Holly had already disappeared down the stairs as I exchanged glances with my friends, silently apologetic.

"I got you man." Gerald conceded as the loud blaring sound of a honking horn interrupted us. I pulled up taking the steps down two at a time finding Holly waiting in what amounted to her car.

Holly Santos was pushing what appeared to be a converted mail truck with a shoddy Earl Scheib paint job with a massive variety of stickers all over its chassis. She was behind the wheel at the bottom of my stairs right at the tip of my toes. Holly leaned over sliding the door open for me to get inside.

"What is this?" I motioned towards the mail truck.

"Goddamn man, it's a fucking Jeep DJ-5; GET IN HERE DERRICK!!"

I got a foot inside but wasn't moving fast enough as Holly reached over getting a handful of my t-shirt yanking me inside. She multitasked already speeding out of the parking lot as I struggled to slide the door closed. Once I accomplished that Holly leaned over snapping a refurbished seat belt across my chest. It was dusk out giving the sky this orangish glow.

"I'm tired of asking you what's going on, Holly."

"Stop asking Derrick, I'm trying to drive right now." We were already on the freeway headed towards downtown. Holly leaned into the wheel gunning it down the long stretch weaving in and out of lanes. Her face was strained, teeth gritted in steely determination.

Our vehicle dangerously tailgated a few times making me panicked amid the angry honking horns before she hit the off ramp downtown. A creeping feeling of déjà vu snuck up on me as we sped by the Denny's restaurant that served as the backdrop for our initial hookup. Holly pulled into the same motel we used that very night driving, but she oddly backed up onto the street pulling a few feet forward of the motel parking lot.

It was a head scratcher as she shimmied into her football jersey sliding her driver's side door open. The tension of the situation was getting to me as she ran to the edge of the parking lot. I followed pensively until she noticed running back to me, snagging my wrist.

"Please Derrick, just a little bit more; it's right there, okay!! PLEASE DON'T FUCK WITH ME RIGHT NOW BABY!! PLEASE DERRICK!!" She was starting to break down and ugly cry again, so I half ran with her into the parking lot.

Holly dug into her pocket producing a motel room key for room #1 at the far end of the two tiered building. I hesitated not wanting to be led into a situation but followed up to the door as she fumbled getting the key into the lock opening the door. The room was two over from the other we'd used prior.

The layout was still the same as she half yanked me inside the room. I was relieved to find it empty and similar in look to the other in every way. Holly pushed the door partially closed peering out at the parking lot before sliding over peeking out from behind the curtains covering the motel room's picture window.

"Okay, I'm here; so now what?" She turned to me breathing hard from anxiety and excitement.

"I promise I'm gonna make this up to you Derrick; you're my friend so you'll understand." She was peering at the face of her phone. This time I could see her actively texting someone and a photo that gave me pause.

"Is that what I think it is Holly?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you have a fucking picture of me on your phone?"

"I took it last time we were here; you were so cute sleeping. I uhm, kind of needed it. Took a dick pic, too." She admitted sheepishly.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!!"

"Catfish."

Before I could inquire further the headlights of a car pulling into the parking spot right outside the room illuminated both of us through the flimsy curtains. Holly ran over to the window peering outside. I glanced over her shoulder finding a blue Honda Civic backing up into an adjacent parking space facing our room.

Whoever was inside obviously wanted to be able to make easy getaway should things go south. I stumbled back thinking to bolt out of the room, but Holly caught my bicep hard digging her nails into it. She was gasping with anticipation turning to me with strained, savage features. It was like looking at a wild animal.

"Huh, all you gotta do is open the door, stick your head out and smile. Then back the fuck up, Derrick."

"Holly?"

"All you gotta do is open the door, stick your head out and smile. Then-BACK THE FUCK UP, Derrick."

She reiterated squeezing the shit out of my arm. It felt like she could rip it out of the socket if she wanted. The sound of a door slamming caught our attention as I realized I was inextricably involved at this point.

"Okay."

She released me inching backward near the picture widow peering out as she motioned for me to go to the motel door. I cautiously opened it gradually peering out into the parking lot.

A woman was standing by the Honda Civic staring in my direction. She was probably a few inches shorter than Holly. She was a Latina with light skin and heavy makeup on her face that reminded me of a Cheshire Cat for some reason. This woman had a whole lot of brunette hair that looked like it went halfway down her back.

Her eyes were big and expressive over a thin ethnic nose upon which sat a pair of Mrs. Claus type glasses. She was looking right at me waiting, smiling from ear to ear as I took in the rest of her body which was this insanely ridiculous pear shape. From the top of her head to the widest point of each of her thighs formed a perfect wide based triangle shape.

This woman looked to be in her early or mid-forties and ready to play. I noticed she was wearing a white t-shirt under an open black bomber jacket which was over sized enough to hide a short, truncated looking torso with these huge shapely thighs appearing from just under the hem of her jacket.

It looked like she'd scored some guy's jacket to cover up but her bare legs, more adequately described as decadently shaped gams, fleshy drumsticks. A pair of flip flops covered her feet cementing the fact that my catfish hookup was here to play between the sheets. Some cutoff jean shorts peeked out from the hem of her t-shirt as she waved at me, visually giddy.