Bust-A-Move, Bust-A-Hip (420 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryLabels: ubermadness
Rating: 2 on 4 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Coyote <spacecoyote42.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-09-13 09:27:59 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
I don't know what it is about old guys, but they're incapable of looking away from a nice pair of breasts, even for an instant, even if the owner of the breasts is displaying her contempt openly, even if her fiance is standing right next to her. Maybe that's why they call senility "second childhood" sometimes; these guys are just wondering if they'll have time for a quick feeding before their nap. In this particular case, I was the one standing beside the owner of the 34DD's in question, and the geezer who couldn't take his eyes off Sarah's rack was one of the local bluebloods, a Circuit Court judge who hadn't made it through a case without dozing off since sometime late in the Carter administration. Normally I don't mind guys staring at Sarah; there's a certain smug feeling in knowing that she's mine, and every other guy in the place is drooling fruitlessly over her body. That feeling is considerably less comforting when the drool is literal, and the amount of spittle leaking from the corner of Judge Johnson's mouth when he gaped at Sarah would have kept a crack team of dental assistants with absorbent towels busy for a week.
There was absolutely no indication whatsoever that Judge Johnson even knew I was there as he stared at Sarah's cleavage with the intensity of a stage magician trying to bend spoons using the power of his mind. Now, I wasn't about to say anything to Hizzoner, partly because Sarah is confident and competent enough to deal with undesirable attention on her own, partly beacuse the mere fact of an octogenarian with specks of foam on his lips busting a move on my future wife made my skin crawl like a platoon of soldiers advancing through no-man's land to the enemy trenches, and partly (okay, yes, I confess to my essential bastardy) because I really wanted membership in the Missing Links Country Club, where the Judge was on the board of directors. So, I did what any red-blooded American male would do under the circumstances: I went to take a leak, and hoped that the situation would resolve itself by the time I got back.
This it did, but not quite in the way I'd been hoping for. I stepped back into the bar, lizard freshly leaked, just in time to see the following horrific sequence of events unfold: the Judge's hand coming to rest on Sarah's right breast like a withered autumn leaf falling to the ground; Sarah's cheeks flushing bright red (something I'd only seen once before, under circumstances too explicit to be recounted in this family publication) and her right hand arcing gracefully out to land inevitably on Hizzoner's wrinkled face with an audible smack; and the Judge taking an astonished step backwards, stumbling, flailing frantically for the support of the bar and missing, and taking a long, terrible backflop onto the bar-room floor.
As he lay there, wriggling helplessly like a trout on the riverbank and shrieking in a manner unbecoming to his dignified position in the community, Sarah rushed to my arms and clung to me. I stood where I was, unable to take my eyes off the crowd gathering around Judge Johnson by the bar. Someone was calling an ambulance, and it was pretty clear he'd broken a hip in the fall. Sarah protested indignantly, "I barely touched him!". I've been on the receiving end of a few of her slaps before, and I had my doubts about this claim, but I didn't argue: I was too busy running through a mental list of the defense lawyers I knew, and watching that country club membership recede to the vanishing point. What the hell; she was worth it. "I know, sweetie. I think he slipped in a little patch of drool." Still, I don't think that dirty old bastard was too slowed down by his busted hip; as one of the waitresses rushed to his side to help him, I could swear he craned his neck to take a peek up her skirt, and the knowing wink he threw me from across the room is going to haunt me for a long time.
User Reviews
Submitted by Alter (user info) at 2007-09-26 20:54:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No, Comment.
Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2005-02-22 07:05:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very well written. My wife... estranged... what-evar-the-fuck-she-goes-by now is a court reporter (stenographer) and the story rings soooooooo fucking true. (Circuit courts and men - get fucked - only men understand.) Unfortunately we're all as bad as the Judge's Johnson (real name I'm sure) but it sucks when your girl becomes the object - not to mention the golf club membership - double kick in the nuts.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-02-22 06:38:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You got given a crappy title, but you did well.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 12:38:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment