Female Inflation

It was early evening on an air field in the south of England, the sun had set over the horizon and the dark had begun to set in. The only building on site was a huge hanger built for holding experimental military planes but due to budget cuts it had been disused for the past six months. Then appearing from across the other side of the air field 3 people were walking across towards the access door of the hanger, each with a backpack.

Vicky: Come on Girls we only have a few hours to get this done so the sooner we get set up the better.

She could already feel the difference. Before, the car had been a separate entity, something she drove, under her command. Now they were together, one thing. She was three-quarters machine and one-quarter woman.  Before she was sleek, with a runner’s body and suggestive curves. Now she was downright aerodynamic, with a three-liter engine giving her the kick she needed to really move.

Brooke was bored. No no, not just bored, sad. She’d just broken up with her longtime boyfriend, and she was feeling the pain. They had been through everything together, traveled all over the world and back, and now this. She had caught him cheating on her with another woman, but not just any other woman, her best friend.

She could not stop reading.

Without a doubt, it was the worst book she had ever read.  Its characters were stupid and juvenile in their execution.  The sentence structure and wording bore all the refinement of crude oil: black, monotonous, and stinky.  An erotic novel of pervasive popularity, yet containing not a single line that brought her carnal pleasure.  Rather than forge a white hot yearning in her loins that was the author’s overtly obvious intent, it only forged a white hot rage that sat heavily within her entire being.