The Black Hole of Morality Downstairs.

A few things about me, if you don't know me.

I grew up in State College, a relatively small college town. I grew up mostly without neighbors, and mostly with one or two close friends. This led me to do a few things more than a lot of people. Namely, I love reading, watching television and listening to music. They are forms of story telling and I love stories.

I hope to use this forum to try and touch on the things I like and hope to tell them in an entertaining manner.

It's for fun. And without further ado. The story of the whore's who live below me.




May 17th, 2010.

I've gotten done with my shift at the bar roughly 3 hours ago. I have been looking forward to an easy night at home watching my favorite basketball team, the Los Angeles Lakers, play against the Phoenix Suns in the opening round of the conference finals. The game is fun, and intense ultimately my team wins, leaving me in a great mood. Following the game I typically watch the the post game press conference and analysis from ESPN or NBATV, however this particular night i have become distracted by the sound of Lil' Wayne and Rick Ross blaring from downstairs.

Now living in State College, a college town, and it being the time of year when only summer classes are just beginning, a party on a Monday night is not that uncommon. However, having lived in the same place for almost a year and knowing that typically my neighbors do not end up playing music past 12, the fact that it was still happening kept me a bit distracted.

Now at this point I realized I had way too much anxious energy not to be doing something. The life of someone who works at a bar, especially one that is open both during the day and late into the night leads to some extremely odd sleep habits, and while you may be reading this thinking 1 in the morning is a time when you would be having an extreme lack of energy, this was not the case for me. However doing something did not include partying with whomever may be down the stairs, even though I certainly was intrigued. I knew that I needed to clean the apartment, and felt that now would be as good a time as any to pick up supplies to do so (Thank you 24 hour Wal-Mart). As I descended the stairs to get to my car, I see what would be an attractive girl in a white dress leaning against the wall in the stair well holding a Hurricane high gravity 40.
"Hey! iss..are you our neighbor?" She slurs
"Um...Yup"
"Well, do you want to come and drink and party?"
"Normally I'd say yes, but right now I'm going to Wal-Mart to pick up cleaning supplies"
"uh...Oh...well, that's wierd"
"I suppose so, anyway have fun."

I then move along taking note that everyone there seems to be both A) trashed, B) younger than 22 and C) mostly made up of dudes. I do not make too much of the situation at this time. This is again, a college town. 18-20 somethings that are on their own for the first time, want to do things on their own that in the past have been labeled taboo. They drink, they swear, they do drugs. This is not new and I would be dumb for thinking too much into it at this point.

As I return, cleaning supplies in hand, the door to the neighbors apartment has been left open, allowing me to peer inside. I see of beer pong being played, with one girl in only her underwear. I still pass, and still not think much of it. Strip poker and subsequent games of strip pong are again not new, and while I thought the girl may have been a "party" girl. I still saw nothing of grand interest. I went to bed.

May 18th

I awake around 10:30. I find a note slipped under our door. It reads a racist joke, which I will not repeat, but needless to say was not funny unless you happen to be a radical member of the KKK. However it also happened to read:

"It was fun to run into one you drunk, and one of you pants less last night.
Signed The girls (the whore's) downstairs"

Now things have picked up. I have never once met a girl who wanted their first impression of them to be whore's. But yet that is exactly the impression they made. And it was intentional. I brought the note to my roommate, and after a few minutes of deliberation, we decide to write a note back to the girls.

A few hours pass, I go for a run, shower and get ready for work. Before I leave I see another note slipped under the door.

This one read
What do you call two girls who get slapped with two dicks last night?

I turn the note over to read
US! (first cousins) Next time come and join the party.
drawn on the note was a penis with veins spelling the word 'love' and the 'the whores next door.'

Shocked, I went to work, but still not sure exactly what to make of everything.

May 19th. Judgement Day.

I have again worked during the day. It is Wednesday, the Laker's will be playing tonight. My plans are set. I will have an easy, carefree night at home. Again, after the game has finished I hear giggling outside and these intriguing girls have my full attention. As I walk towards the door, they attempt to slip another note under the door, which I would later find to be the most simple, and non lewd of any of the notes. It read "Let's drink" The night would not be that simple

I open the door two see both neighbors, both slightly drunk, but this time not in a full in party mode. The first girl, is a long, straight haired brunette, she is wearing some silver eye liner, and what I can best describe as a dark gray bustier that is missing sections on her both right and left abdominal's, She is quite tan, but not overtly so that i think she spends all her day in a booth or by the pool. She is undeniably an attractive girl, and dressed so overtly sexually with her breasts pushed up and skirt so short that it seems logical why so many guys were over at the apartment.
The second girl, who seems slightly younger due to her freckles, fairer complexion, and probably most obviously, having a retainer is dressed provocatively as well. Although her outfit is simpler, on her body it seems only slightly less outrageous. A black miniskirt and a top that barely covers her enormous breasts.
Needless to say, I am interested as to what they have to say.

"Hi there" I say, smirking, confident that my past experiences at parties, bars, and other social events will keep me even keeled for whatever is thrown my way.
Both girls grin wildly, I pick up the hint of alcohol on their breath.
"Hi neighbor, would be interested in drinking with us tonight?" propositions girl #1.
I look back at the clock readout on my cable box. It's not that late. Plenty of time to get to a bottle shop.
"Sure, let me get my things and we can go"
I ask for their names, which I get, but more interesting was their self proclaimed nicknames.
"Well I'm 'dick queen" says the brunette "and she's 'boob girl'"
I laugh a small nervous laugh. How far will these girls take this show? Are they as promiscuous as all indications point them out to be...what exactly will happen when I drink with them?

In the car ride, they both tell of their explicit and undying love of the dick. Specifically, how much they love felatio.
"I just love sucking cock" says BG (I will be using shortened nicknames for the rest of the stories. BG=Boob Girl, DQ=Dick Queen)
"We suck off all our friends" says DQ
"Wow" is the best I could muster.

The banter continues for the short drive. The words 'suck' and 'dick' come out of their mouths no less than 250 times. It is to this day the most sexually explicit time I've ever spent trying to go get beer.

We arrive at the beer store. I park and go get the beer myself. Upon my return, I see a man roughly 30 years old, leering into my car. As I approach he leaves but is clearly still as happy as can be.
"What was that about?" I ask
"Oh, BG flashed him" says DQ.
"Ah, well i'm a little bit jealous. Here I am getting beer, being your neighbor, and yet you let a random guy get a peek before me"
(clearly lost on me, is that part of the appeal of a flash is the anonymity of it. I suppose that's why such things are way more likely to happen in Vegas or New Orleans during Mardi Gras. There is no except your friends to bring it back up.)
"Don't worry, you'll get to see them soon enough." Says DQ.
And with that it happens. BG pulls down the sides of her top to me. They are nice, as anyone who would appreciate breasts would attest. But somehow lost was the pursuit, the ease as to which I could see them made them some how less valuable, and thus less attractive than other breasts that I've seen.

When we arrive back at their apartment the discussion finally has moved to drinking games.
"Lets play kings" says DQ
A fantastic idea, I agree, and the game begins. Nothing is to out of the ordinary now, with the lone exception of their rampant use of the word Nigger. I hesitate to use it myself, even in the retelling of this story, but I think in the end that it shows just how depraved and insensitive the girls are. They are so far as morally bankrupt two people could possibly be. They do not care, and in fact celebrate their own depravity.

As the game goes on, I find myself running low on beer and begin to get up to get another from the refrigerator. BG stops me however and offers me a trade instead.
"Don't get up, I'll get you a beer, but first, you have to spank my ass"
"Excuse me?"
"Just slap my ass and I'll get your beer."
At this point I understand very little about these girls. They are absurdly debaucherous. They are young, and they are also apparently from my high school. The stakes have been raised again, and I again agree to meet them at their own game. Also, I definitely need another beer. Thus I oblige.

As the game continues, the girls seem to lose interest for a bit. BG goes to the back room to change the music to 311, ( I had mentioned I recently saw them live and she is apparently a big fan.) while DQ commences a phone call to comcast at one o'clock asking how to set up their Internet. I am now just listening, watching, and texting my roommate to come back for this spectacle.

When my roommate finally arrives, and the girls waste no time confronting him with their antics.
"Would you like a beer?" asks BG
"Sure"
"Well, slap my ass"
His face then contorts into a state of confusion, almost bewilderment, but the excitement in his eyes also shines through, and I have no doubt that I must have had a similar look on my face.
"Go ahead dude, that's how I've gotten my last 3."
Again introductions are had, and the real party begins. A troop of roughly 15 kids show up. Again, all young, and again, mostly guys. They drink the beer and begin playing games of beer pong. DQ has also brought a small whip toy out. Apparently jealous of all the attention that BG's ass has gotten, she wants to make her own mark, or rather have myself make a mark on her. She insists that I whip her, and that I "should not be a pussy" about it. A rather upfront challenge to one's manhood. I look at the whip, then to my roommate. I can't not use the whip. And then the real party begins...

Now a small troupe of young adults, whose age range i would guess between the ages of 16 and 19 arrive at the small apartment. Their are 2 girls and approximately 14 guys. My roommate and I take this time to talk about what exactly is going on. And what is going on is the following.... The girls parade half naked (I believe BG's nipples are an extension of her lungs and they need to be freed to the open air for her to breathe, not unlike a whale or dolphins blow hole, guys are taking out their wieners for STD inspection, (apparently the girls are experts) and my whole reality of what the youth in America is, has been shattered. Both myself and my roommate were fondled without asking, propositioned to slap the girls with our dicks and in general lower all standards for how one should behave with the opposite sex.


I have many theories as to why these girls are the way they are. Lack of parenting or abuse is at the forefront. Drugs and alcohol introduced at an early age. Our sex driven media, and the ease of access to pornography and the popularization of that particular industry. Sex-ting and other forms of exhibition. But the point of this story is that these girls are real, and I fear they are only the beginning. The reactions I've gotten when I tell this story are mixed but they change with age. The closer I get to the 18 year old range, the less shock is seen in the response. A new wave of exhibitionism and sluttiness is appearing, and I wonder what the reaction's of the public will be. Speaking of which, feel to post your reaction to this story below.


P.S. This is my first post, I apologize for any readability issues. My next story should be shorter, more concise and funnier. I knock out my roommate with an open handed slap in that one. All feedback welcome here, or email me at baney84@gmail.com