Sample – The Jiggly Curse of Hooter Holler

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It was a bumpy ride into town, traversing the deeply-rutted roads and sending the four of them into the air on more than one occasion.  They finally came to an unpainted road, wide enough for two lanes, at least, and took the left suggested by the GPS.  It took no more than twenty minutes to find themselves in the center of Danvers.

“Talk about the land that time forgot,” Caleb said, taking in the sights of Danvers, Alabama.

The buildings were squat storefronts, and it looked like a four-block square that housed most of the shops and businesses that kept the wheels turning.  There was a grocery, a post office, what looked like a mayor’s office, but that, too, was little more than a two room office.  The largest building was a department store that still had the décor of the 1960s and, indeed, it appeared that Danvers had stopped innovating around that time.  There were no stop lights, only four-way stop signs.

“Who cares about that,” David whispered.  “Look at the girls.”

There were roughly a dozen milling about the downtown area, all of them looking towards the boys in the Jeep.  Not a one of them looked over 30, nor would any of them be considered less than stunning.  Some were taller, some shorter, some more voluptuous – though none of the boys saw a girl that could be honestly described as ‘fat’ – and they varied in hair color and eye color as near as the quartet of travelers could tell.  The one unifying element evident in each was the ubiquity of full chests and a willingness to show off the bodies that had been so perfectly created.  A handful pushed strollers or held a young child by the hand, but these young mothers were the minority in comparison to the single, astoundingly gorgeous women wandering the streets.

Jeff pulled the Jeep into a diagonal parking spot before a drug store still displaying an advertisement for a soda that had been off the market for several years.  The sign was faded, and many of the buildings, now that they looked more closely, showed signs of general neglect, though none were falling apart.  The town had a laissez-faire vibe to it, Caleb thought, that they simply weren’t concerned with keeping up with the times.

“I can’t believe it,” Jeff said, watching the girls wander the streets.  “What did you say they nicknamed this place?”

“Hooter Holler,” Caleb said.

“Truer words were never spoken,” Richie added.

“Boys, you can ogle all you want.  I’m going to get some booze and get this party started.”

“I’m with you,” Richie said.

“We’ll hit the store, then.”  Caleb nodded toward the grocery sign across the way and he and Jeff started in that direction.

“Let’s find the ladies,” David grinned.

The Main Street Package Store had a bell over the door, and announced their arrival as soon as they pushed inside.  There were rows of bottles, grouped by type, and a counter immediately to the left, behind which were rows of smaller bottles, what Richie liked to think of as ‘smugglers,’ since that was the size they usual snuck into the local football games, and an old man with a long face and a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth on a stool behind a cash register.

The only other occupants were a pair of some of Danvers’ unique brand of feminine beauty, giggling to one another by the shelf of wines as they whispered and stared at David and Richie.

“Help ya?” the old man asked as the ball noiselessly rocked to a stop above them.

“Just looking for supplies,” David said.  “I was thinking some wine.”

“I’ll get the vodka,” Richie said, then realized that David’s plan was less about wine and more about meeting the pair of girls huddled together by the rows of reds and whites.  He silently chastised himself for volunteering for the bottles that were almost as far away as he could get from them.

One was tall and blonde, with tight sweats on with the logo printed across the back in script letters.  Her top was black and made of some sort of stretchy material that highlighted the globes beneath.  The other was dark-haired, in a swirling plaid miniskirt that showed off plump thighs.  She had just a hint of a belly and was shorter by four or five inches, but was even more buxom than her friend.

“Ladies, we’re new in town and we’re hoping you might be able to point us towards someplace to have fun,” Richie overheard David say to the girls by way of introduction, leaving him to shake his head in wonder and David’s bravado, beer-soaked though it might be.

“You should go.”

Richie turned to find the old man from the counter standing by his shoulder, the curl of smoke from the tip of his cigarette sucked back into his nose as he inhaled.


“I said, you’n the rest of the boys.  You should go.  Ain’t nothing here but trouble if you stay.”

“We’re just here for some camping,” Richie said, trying to adopt a jovial bent to his voice, but he was truthfully and certainly creeped out by the old man’s nearness, the stink of smoke coming off him, and the whispering way he spoke.

“I know why you’re here, same reason we get visitors every year or so.  Probably looked us up on the internet.  You ever wonder why there’s so many of ‘em, the girls I mean?  Why there ain’t but a few of us men?”

“Look, we’re-“

“You mark my words, boy.  You stay clear of them girls.  Do your drinkin’ and your campin’, since that’s why you’re here…”  He overlaid the last with more than a little sarcasm.  “And then you get the hell out of here.  You start messin’ with them girls.  Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You bothering this boy?” the dark-haired girl said, dragging Richie’s attention from the old man.  She was waggling her way from the wines, leaving David with the tall, leggy blonde.

“Naw.  Just jawing is all,” the old man said.  His eyes lingered on Richie before he turned away, shuffling back to his post behind the counter.

“Good,” the raven-haired beauty said, before turning her attention fully to Richie.  She traced a finger down the front of his shirt, head tilted down and eyes turned up to Richie.  “My name’s Janey,” she said, and the way she lingered on her name made Richie immediately feel a shift in his pants.  “You been here long?”

“No, just got here today.  We’re at the campgrounds.”

“Hmmm…” she purred, “I wonder if ya’ll might want some company later?”

“Um, yeah, I think for sure we would.”

Richie stared at the tan tits bunched together within her top, the flesh nearly spilling out.  She had bright green eyes, and her dark locks were loose, with a pleasant wave to them.  This close, Richie swore she smelled like peaches.  Those big, round eyes batted at him, and Richie extended an arm automatically as she leaned against his side, placing her hand flat against his chest, her leg sliding up his.

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