Chapter 12: The Fine Art of Making Girls Blush

Ten minutes later, I’m backstage with Livia and Mimi. I’m in the shower, obviously. Mimi will need it right after me, being in coveralls in the Florida sun. My balls ache. They ache a lot. I’m sexually frustrated, but also euphorically happy. My erection keeps coming back, whenever I meet Livia’s gaze or her scurrying about makes her chest bounce. “That routine must have really got you worked up,” she chuckles.

“Can you blame him?” Mimi laughs. “I’d love to be in a pile like that some day. If he didn’t have a mega-stiffie I’d be a bit worried.”

Everyone laughs.

“So,” Livia asks, “what do you think?”

“I think oil is easier to get into odd places than it is to get out,” I quip.

“The Make Her Blush contest, dummy. Which girls are you thinking of asking?”

“Roach and Claire are lesbians.”

“Duh,” Livia says. “Also, yum. I’ve got my eyes on Claire, but she’s for the third Decan, not the second.”

“What about Beckie?” I ask. “Given your reaction at the tube race, I would have pegged her as your first choice.”

“Mmm,” Livia says, trying to find a reason to argue. “The audience has already seen her come, and I’m not sure she’s smart enough to appreciate the contest. Also, if she doesn’t take that damn bubblegum out of her mouth while the dude is talking, we’ll catch it on mike and it’s pop the mood like it was one of her damn bubbles.”

“Beckie’s smarter than she looks,” I say. “Well, maybe. She’s not out-of-control-horny or anything, but she had a healthy libido in the last contest. Full disclosure: I would get a lot of entertainment out of seeing her in Make Her Blush. After the inner tube race, I bet you two would as well.”

Mimi looks dazed for a second and shakes her head. “Beckie seems really nice,” she finally says.

I think Beckie is the platonic ideal of what Mimi wants to be. I wonder how they’d get along, but I also have a feeling the resulting conversation would be acutely painful to any hapless bystanders.

Livia glances between us. “Okay, I’m outvoted. She irritates me, but I’ll cope.”

It’s not a vote, really. Livia is The Boss, but she’s a nice, reasonable boss who listens to people.

“Beckie should be on first,” I say. “Even if she doesn’t get aroused, she’ll probably say or do something weird, dumb or eccentric that will amuse the audience. She can be the icebreaker.”

“Yeah,” Livia says. “That’s actually clever. What about the other three girls?”

“Not Jeanne,” I say. “She’s sexy, but also experienced and more than a bit jaded. Whispered dirty talk isn’t going to do anything to her composure.”

“Agreed.”

A few other names I haven’t or can’t include here get brought up. Mimi has gone over the camera footage and found a girl from the crowd, Laura, who she thinks would be good. I agreed she has a tangible Aura.

“I wish you hadn’t used up Brenda like that,” Livia says. “She would have been perfect for this. She was super-horny.”

I felt oddly defensive on Brenda’s behalf. It’s like I have a weird intimacy with her. I don’t like that casualness. “Brenda wouldn’t be as into it as you might think. She wanted to do something wild, not be told something wild. And, given her show with the balloon cock, she’d probably be too blunt, or interrupt the guy, or make him embarrassed.”

Livia shrugs. “Ok. We’re running out of names. I don’t want to pull more than one girl out of the crowd ‘cold’ for this. Anyone else?”

I wonder about her desire to avoid audience girls. “Is it really going to appeal to amateur, sometimes repressed, girls if we only give the hotter bits to girls from the nudie games and contests? I’m sure there’s lots of girls that would be interested in the ‘Blair package’ — a bit of erotic hypnosis, but no actual nudity.”

Livia shrugs indifferently. “I want to draw girls, but on our own terms. I’m totally okay with sending cute amateur girls the message that we can get their intimate bits all wet and sticky better than they can themselves, but they’re going to need to get them out for us — and our audience — first.”

Harsh. Hot, but still harsh.

“What about Michelle Morris? She’s no ingenue, and I admit that it’s likely to just blow off her like water over sand ... but if it didn’t, that would be a heck of a thing to witness, wouldn’t it?”

The three of us visualize it for a second, and I think everyone involved finds it tempting. “Okay,” Livia agrees. “We have our moonshot. We’ll put her on last, so if she stays cool it doesn’t harsh anyone else’s vibe — and if she doesn’t, we get a hell of a climax. Beckie, Michelle and Laura. Who’s our fourth and fifth? What about Wendy?”

I’m not sure how Wendy will be feeling, given what I suspect happened in the wrestling bit. I sketch this out in elliptical language to my fellow Trips.

“I’m simultaneously horrified, sympathetic and deeply aroused. Why don’t we watch her and see how she reacts to the early contestants? If she really was ... er... invaded, and she’s still grooving on naughty shows an hour later, well, that’s a pretty kinky girl. In all likelihood, however, she’s already on her way back to her hotel to have a shower and feel bad about herself. I doubt we’ll find her in the crowd. If we do, and she still seems to be in a sexy mood, grab her. But don’t expect it.”

“Amanda’s a possibility,” I say.

“Didn’t she bail on the first Decan before anyone else?”

“Yup,” I reply. “But Mimi’s right. She has limits and inhibitions. Most girls do. She’s a model. She didn’t want to get down and dirty full-frontal style in a show mostly for guys. Lots of girls wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean she won’t enjoy some kinky words.”

“She’s like a foot taller than you,” Mimi points out. “Are any of the stock scenarios going to even make sense for her?”

As soon as Mimi says that, I realize Amanda will be perfect. “The scenarios being generic are perfect for her,” I say. “Think about it. She’s not a foot taller than me because she wants to be seen as imposing. It’s not a persona or affectation. Her skeleton is just shaped like that. She was born with it, just like I was born with mine, and she’s probably a bit sick of dating guys with amazon fetishes. Well, guess what? We have guys that don’t have amazon fetishes to whisper scenarios not built around an amazon partner into her ear. Even if that doesn’t melt her heart and her panties, it might still be oddly satisfying for her.”

“Okay,” Livia says. “We’ll see if Amanda is willing. What about fallbacks?”

“Molly,” Mimi says. “She took her role a bit further than the script required. Maybe she’s up for it.”

Livia laughs. “Marc had it coming ... or didn’t you notice him grab her and suck her like a bloody lollipop in the pit?”

I blush. “That was an accident.”

Livia rolls her eyes. “I wish you were that accident-prone around me.”

Oh, bless the gods of comedic set-up lines! Holy shit, Livia, I want to shout in exaltation, challenge fucking accepted! But in fact I can’t let on any part of my scheme at this point so I keep a rigid poker face and respond sharply. “It really was an accident. Beckie ground my face twice, flirting. Go back and check the footage if you don’t believe me. When Molly somehow, uh ... ended up in that position, I thought it was Beckie all but begging for it. That’s the truth, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Mimi says in genuine sympathy. I think my burst of paranoia around the irony of Livia’s last comment made my response harsher than it would otherwise have been.

“Agreed,” Livia says. “Sorry, Marcelo.”

Then a smile curls around the edge of her face. “Still, screw Princess Di’s see-through skirt; I think we can rate your case of oral mistaken identity as the hottest oopsie moment on film, anywhere, ever.”

“Well, that was a pretty hot first Decan! I think things got a wee bit out of control,” Livia tells the enthusiastic crowd, “but then again, getting out of control every now and then is fun — and what better place to have fun than Spring Break? Even if you end up blushing a bit, the memories are worth it, am I right? Speaking of blushing ... girls sure are cute when they blush. Wouldn’t you agree, Molly?”

It turns out we won’t actually need Molly for the second Decan, but that doesn’t stop Livia from dragging her out here again for the intro bit. She doesn’t seem to mind — I get the feeling she’s having fun.

Obviously, I get the task of soliciting participation from our desired hotties while Vendetta played on stage. I pulled really well — I’m not sure if it had anything to do with the girls getting to “inspect the goods”, so to speak, before my pitch — and we got our first-choice lineup: Beckie, Amanda, Laura, Wendy and Michelle. It only took a little bit of verbal massaging. Wendy shocked me with how chill she was after her incident in the first Decan, while Beckie, Laura and Michelle were all eager. Amanda took the most persuasion — she’s cautious, but also vincible to temptation.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about that, Miss Livia.”

The crowd laughs. “So we’re going to hold a bit of a contest,” Livia continues, “for five of our blushing beauties, and we’re going to pair them with five absolute dreamboats. You all get to watch the show and pick your favorite couple. When you get home tonight, you can call our toll-free number to vote for your favorite. We’ll be announcing the winner at our next show, right here at Summers this coming Friday. So make sure you take down that number! It’s on all our fliers.

“If you call and vote, you can also hear a rather steamy exchange between Mimi and I — or, if you’d prefer, some extra recorded sweet talk from each of our hunky bachelors. It’s two ninety-nine a minute, but voting will only take you two minutes! Of course, if you want to listen to the steamy recordings, well, you might be on a bit longer! We won’t judge you! If you’re sharing a hotel room with friends, please be aware — each phone number can only vote once!”

The crowd, surprisingly, does not react with cynicism or laughter. As I’ve said, this is in many ways a simpler time. And yes, we make a fair bit of money with this stunt.

“So let’s meet our brave young studs! Bring ‘em on out, Mimi! First is George, a DJ and bartender with the Button Lounge — and quite the fashion plate, if I may say so myself! He knows all the hippest places to party, he can mix a fine dirty martini and he’s got an even dirtier imagination! Let’s all give George a cheer!”

George is, honestly, a bit of a weirdo. He’s the most player-looking of the five guys we chose, and he does indeed have a dirty mind. But he’s also got an eloquent tongue, and that’s what matters, right? Well, we hope so. He’s handsome in a kind of cut-rate Hasselhoff way, but not the real looker of the guys. His dress is “full swinger 70s throwback”, however, with silk balloon pants, a kimono-like overgarment with a sloping neckline over a hairy chest and a gaudy gold medallion hanging around his neck. He’s the only contestant I can’t manage to out-tacky in my polyester leisure suit. We weren’t originally going to use George — he was a backup for Trevor or Will — but when I introduced Beckie, Livia decided to pair George with her. She figures there’s a reasonable chance that both of them will elicit more laughter than steam.

“Next we have Alan, a local who works for a construction group here in Lauderdale, but writes erotic poetry in his spare time. Ladies, I just need to say ... body of a carpenter, soul of a poet — can we hope for a better package than that? I don’t think so. I really doubt it. And the best part ... he says his poetry is aimed at both genders! We all know what that means, right? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!”

Livia pretty much sums up the appeal here — a really ripped bi guy who could be in a naughty calendar for women, who also writes dirty but soulful poetry. Livia’s too kinky for the crowd here — neither gender seems overly enthused by her threesome allusion. I think Alan’s actually the best of the bunch, and I suggest we pair him with Amanda.

“Next is Rick, a fresh young face with a major in engineering from the University of Texas. This is his first Spring Break, so let’s all go easy on him. I hear he’s a real sweetie when you get to know him.”

The unusually eloquent college dude. He’s handsome in a totally generic and non-threatening way, faintly preppie-scented — blonde combover, square jaw, pastel tone shirt and shorts. He’s a bit of a dweeb and would never interest someone like Livia, but I know there are a ton of less jaded girls in the crowd who will consider him the best catch. My only surprise about him is that his major is engineering and not liberal arts. We pair him with the only genuine amateur, Laura, to avoid scandals around age differences — but it’s probably also the safest pairing for the two most mainstream participants. His preppie outfit might look suave back home but isn’t going to do him favors on stage beneath the late afternoon Florida sun.

“Let’s meet Juan! He’s a long-time Lauderdale local with interests including ecology, fantasy fiction, astronomy and recreational chemistry! Ladies, this is one groovy dude!”

Juan is just under fifty. He’s one of the beachside custom van owners, and an utter hippie stoner. He’s really uninhibited and genuine, but I’m not sure about his looks or sex appeal. He’s scruffy-handsome, I guess — ruddy weathered skin, thick salt-and-pepper beard, unruly hair. He’s wearing a loose Hawaiian shirt open down the middle, a straw hat and cut-off jeans. Livia and him struck it off in a big way previously, bonding over their mutual love of sleazy pulp fiction. Names I’ve never even heard before — Clark Ashton Smith, E.E. Doc Smith, Dashiell Hammett — got tossed around a lot in a conversation that very much bored me and enthused Livia.

We pair Juan and Wendy, given the latter is at least a thirty-something — their subcultures and values seem compatible. Privately I’m hoping he really strikes it up with Wendy, since I don’t want him to figure out he has a real chance of pulling Livia. He’s not the most handsome man she’s fucked by a long shot, but she appreciates novelty and has a shared deep interest with him — and I have to admit he has an earthy sensuality. Normally I’d never get between her and an encounter she might enjoy — but right now, I have plans in motion and don’t want to deal with competition.

“And we have our final suitor, Lorenzo! There’s something just a bit dangerous about him, and I need to say I approve! He’s thirty-six, a motorcycle mechanic and enthusiast with a long history in this town. Does anyone wonder which lady can tame this wild heart and help shave off those rough edges?”

Lorenzo’s muscular, handsome and a bit of a goon. I wonder if he’s with an actual motorcycle gang, actually. He is a rebel, and we almost didn’t use him because we’re not sure what he’s going to drop on his partner — he’s an alpha, and not easy for us to lead. He’s got both masculine aggression and a real way with words, though. Carpenter Alan had the good sense to wear a tight white wife-beater over his buff chest, and, well, I’ve described George’s eyesore outfit already.

But Lorenzo showed up today in full costume as a greaser — like, he’s actually doing Travolta from Grease, and fairly well save for his goatee. He’s wearing a black leather jacket, which is glaringly stereotypical, and he’s not wearing anything under it, which is honestly a bit daring. He’s also the only one that seems to really be doing a strong persona — he’s aware of the bad boy effect on girls, and is channeling it quite intentionally. He’s left with Michelle — which, honestly ... she’s a bit out of his league, in my opinion. I would have paired Lorenzo and Beckie, just for the caricature macho man/girly girl comedic contrast — but maybe Lorenzo comes off as less of a caricature to anyone actually able to be attracted to men.

“Okay, and here’s our lucky ladies!”

Livia brings out Beckie, Amanda, Laura, Wendy and Michelle, giving each a simple introduction like with their suitors. Beckie is in a pink miniskirt, pink tank top and has pink hair ornaments, pink fishnet stockings and pink high heels — I’m sensing a bit of a theme there. Amanda has a much classier navy evening dress. Laura has the stock non-bikini Lauderdale babe getup — tight short shorts and a tight white shirt. She’s average looking, but the clothes accentuate her curves. Wendy is wearing her surfer’s bodyglove — she’s totally unpretentious, and the only girl I can imagine not having had a small neurotic attack wondering what to wear to this event. Michelle has a very sultry little black dress, with spaghetti straps and a faux-bejeweled trim. It highlights her amazing figure really well.

“So let me explain how this little contest we’ve cooked up is going to work. Each guy sits in that chair and takes the microphone. His girl is going to go sit on his lap and try to keep eye contact with him as much as possible, but doesn’t need to — and, in fact, can’t — talk back. We’re going to give each young lady a pair of headphones, so she can be all alone with her suitor. Each of our lucky dudes is then going to narrate a fantasy to one of these young ladies.

“It needs to be a racy story. It needs to have naughty bits in it. It needs to keep going when television fades to black. It needs to have the kind of words in it that make goosebumps stand up on a woman’s back and send shivers down her spine. It can be a whole fantasy scenario ... or, it can just be a rather detailed description of what he’d like to do with — and to — her if he was lucky enough to get her back to his place. The choice is his. Above all, though, what he needs to do — what we’re all here to judge him on — is his ability to ... Make! Her! Blush!”

Livia turns to the men. “Now guys, I want to be really clear on this. You need to watch your partner, and you need to be sensual. Keep looking in her eyes. Hold her hands. Don’t touch anything else. You’re trying to woo the girl, to crank her engine — not to humiliate her, or make her uncomfortable. Make the story you are telling personal to the girl in your lap — don’t assume you know things about her outside of here, but reference her features, say her name, talk about what you love about her. And talk about your own body! Whatever your story is, you two are the protagonists!

“We want to hear the naughty words, but we also want to be classy about it. You’ve all got cocks, and you’re going to need to tell her what gets done with them ... but make sure you earn it before you get to that point, okay? You’ve got fifteen minutes to tell your story. It should have at least five minutes of bedroom activities in it, and we’re not looking for soft focus here. You can use words like cock, pussy, nipples, sweat, thrusting, goosebumps, clit, suckling, arching, thrusting, grinding, moaning, swelling, pulsating ... woah, I might be getting a bit carried away here, folks. Sorry about that!”

Next Livia turns to the girls. “Okay, ladies. You’ve got an easy, fun job here. All you need to do is sit in your contestant’s lap, put on the headphones, keep an open mind and let his imagination take you on a ride ... pun intended. Your reaction will do all the talking for you. If you get a bit embarrassed or self-conscious, don’t worry about it. We all want to see you blush, after all! Blushing is sexy, and this game is an excuse for guys to say things to you they’re not normally allowed to say.

“We want to push your limits, a bit, but we also want you to be having fun. If you find this is too awkward, or you feel degraded, or you’re having an anxiety attack, just raise your hand and say time — and things end right there. And if we don’t feel the guy did anything wrong, don’t worry — you won’t penalize him. We might have a few backup girls ready to fill in. But at least try to lose yourselves in the narrative, and I think all five of you can have some fun with this contest tonight. Is everyone ready?”

All ten contestants seem eager.

You’ve probably already figured out the punchline to this game, right? The stated goal is for the guy to ‘woo’ his girl, make her blush and turn her on a little bit — but what we’re actually hoping for is that, by carefully manipulating circumstances, we can actually get one of our contestants to talk a girl all the way up to an actual orgasm, on stage, with nothing but dirty talk and some of Livia’s beloved adjectives. Livia thinks this will sell massively to girls, and I’m actually more hopeful in that area at this point than I was when we started brainstorming this bit.

I know Livia likes dirty stories as a type of foreplay, and I can probably get her off by talking to her dirty for long enough — but I always thought of that as ‘Livia’s fetishes’ rather than ‘what girls like’. Summers is not, incidentally, a stranger to contests involving orgasms — they hold a fake orgasm contest each Spring Break, and even though the girls are faking it the results are still quite sexy to watch. We actually pitched this to management as a covert “real orgasm contest”, or at least a way to get girls really obviously and cutely turned on while on stage.

You’ve also likely figured out that we’ve done a lot to weigh and fix the contest. Both genders have been through the Sieve looking for the magic moment we want to capture on film. (Neither side was directly told what we were actually trying to achieve, though.) Four out of five girls went through the first Decan (and the fifth was chosen for her ... interesting reactions while watching it), and I think are both horny and uninhibited as a result. We chose the guys, then — an hour before the first Decan started — Livia offered them a little hypnotic confidence boost. She said it would be a training program to give them the best chances and help them not freeze up. She told the truth, in that she did hypnotize them to increase their confidence (and remove their inhibitions about saying lewd things). We also stuck them in what could basically be called a home-made sleepteacher, however.

Most romance novels are trash, in terms of both prose quality and level of heat. Even Livia, who collects and adores them, will admit this. But there are a select few that are explicit and (I understand, from a woman’s sensibilities) fairly hot. Livia is a living encyclopedia of these things, and we went through her recommendations list to filter it down to the ones that we think have mainstream appeal rather than just hitting one of the many patented Livia fetish buttons. From there, we looked at the use of language, and tried to figure out which scenarios a man could narrate in the second person in under fifteen minutes.

We didn’t give the men scripts. They do actually choose what they’re going to say, and what approach they’re going to take, in the contest. But we did have them listen to extended explicit passages in a trance state, to put them in the right headspace and make the right words come out at the right time. And, of course, to do the thing we actually promised them — to boost their confidence and block feelings of discomfort that makes guys normally stop short of the explicit when dirty talking to a woman, or to fall back on the macho, vulgar dirty talk seen in porno films.

First up are George and Beckie. He sits down and — credit to the guy — he has a cocky, lazy, insubordinate pose that is kind of sexy. Now, we told the girls to sit in the guys’ laps and look in their eyes — but we didn’t specify an exact position. They can sit perpendicular with legs closed if desired — but, of course, Beckie doesn’t do that. She spreads her legs wide and straddles him face to face, like a stripper giving a lap dance. “I think you’re hot,” she says. “Talk to me, and make me feel really good. I’m already horny.”

That’s direct ... but then, as I know better than anyone, Beckie is a pretty direct girl. I’m not sure if George is normally equally direct, but he picks up the cue and abandons any complex scenario he might have had in mind. “You know, I noticed how much energy you have, and that slight girlish giggle of yours. I find that my imagination quickly drifts to how you would behave if I started lightly licking that wonderful slant on your neck — yes, right there, the ticklish bit that just makes you squirm uncontrollably...”

Beckie giggles. “That sounds fun. Do it!”

Livia quickly intercedes. “No, Beckie, hon, this is all imaginary. George is going to describe what he’d like to do, not actually do it. Of course,” she adds with a wink to the audience, “if you two want to try things out for real later, there’s nothing we can do about it — but there’s also no implicit promise that’s going to happen.”

“I promise! See, it’s explicit now.”

George has this wonderful smirk. I doubt he’ll mind keeping the promise. I’m a bit jealous, actually — part of me still wants a third taste of Beckie. But George is smart, and knows he needs to play the contest right. “Beckie, baby, you need to be quiet now and just imagine stuff.”

She nods, and he goes on with the quite explicit foreplay. George is more that a little bit sleazy; he keeps describing how things make her squirm, or how turned on feeling the warmth of her body makes him or how he knows she loves him because of how tightly she hugs him — basically, all things that are subtle cues for her to give him a really grindy lap dance, which she’s basically doing. And she’s clearly getting aroused. I’m not sure how much the words and language and all the eloquence that Livia is so proud of engineering are actually doing — I think she’s just getting off on being close to a guy and having him whisper bad words and naughty-sounding things to her. I wonder if he could get her off by just whispering “Cock. Cock. Cock. Cock,” in her ear over and over.

She’s also struggling between her arousal and her near-instinctive urge to make inane comments. I see her raise her hand like a schoolgirl waiting to speak in class, and then Livia just stares her down. I see her eyes flash as some comment pops into her mind, and then she bites her lip to stifle it. Her hand also tends to wander between her legs and rub whenever George’s words get more forceful or tense. Watching her face is like watching an epic battle between the forces of raw lust and performative idiocy. It’s actually kind of amazing.

I check the time. We’re four minutes in. This is way more sexual than we wanted for the first couple. Beckie is clearly going to come soon; she’s panting, and her blush now covers not only her face but her thighs. She’s clearly having a lot of fun, as is George, but I’m not sure how much other girls are going to relate to this couple. And ... George is starting to get freaky.

His stuff is very stream-of-consciousness, and now he’s starting to work weird fetishes in. He implies something in an off-hand way about her taming a male cougar — I think he meant the actual animal — using only her pussy-scent. He narrates feeding her pills that make her breasts grow. He talks about using a tantric ritual to channel the African sex goddess Erzulie into her body. He says he could see the cosmic circuitry of the Lords of Venus imprinted on her soul when he looks in her eyes. (I’m going to guess George hit on Diane at some point.) He compares her to Velma from Scooby Doo. (She doesn’t look at all like Velma, in case that wasn’t obvious.)

With any of the other four girls, he probably would have gotten a comedic eyeroll and rebuke. The thing is, though, Beckie isn’t listening to the content of his words. She likes a guy talking dirty to her in public, and she’s really, quite aggressively, grinding him. She’s sweating and starting to moan. Not only is she going to have an orgasm, she’s probably going to have a very loud and blatant one. I wonder if I broke her somehow with the finger guns.

I glance at the other girls. They’re not horrified or creeped out, at least. Wendy may actually be taking George’s performance seriously, and is listening intently. Amanda and Laura are whispering to each other and giggling. They know this is a bit stupid, but they’re also faintly turned on by the weird couple. Michelle is impassive, keeping her model smile gleaming. But despite things taking a sharp turn into zany town, I don’t feel that the mood is crashing. The other girls are, if nothing else, pleasantly entertained by the spectacle.

Livia looks pissed, though — she didn’t like Beckie to begin with, and likes ... whatever the fuck is happening now even less. George is being weird enough that I’m starting to wonder if his game is actually satire — as in, taking the piss out of our show in order to win some hipster cred while walking off with the babe anyway.

Beckie is going to have her moment. Weird dialogue aside, watching her get off again is sexy, even if it’s a minor catastrophe for the Trips. She’s gasping and grinding really vigorously. Girls in the audience are giggling, whereas the guys are mostly just staring. I doubt any girls want to be Beckie the way they wanted to be Brenda earlier, but they’re still amused and mildly turned on by watching something that’s both naughty and funny in an absurdist way. Beckie finishes her unsubtle orgasm as George narrates some bizarre bullshit about her being a lounge singer using her womanly charms to foil the Nazis in a past life. We’re only six and a half minutes into a fifteen-minute monologue, and Beckie is still horny and grinding.