Now he’d hit pay dirt! The National Organization of Women was having its first rally in downtown Little Rock and the protesters had burned their bras earlier in the day. He was in heaven. None of these hotties shaved their legs or armpits or wore any oppressive make-up at all. The gorgeous straight, limp greasy hair was everywhere. And oh, the cankles!
He knew that his destiny was here. He could feel it.
She saw a pregnant woman across the street shaking her head at the N.O.W. gang and something snapped within her.
Running up to this mocker, she screamed into her face “What’s your problem, Breeder? You don’t like the idea that womyn can be beautiful and free from men?” To which the lady calmly replied “Get out of my face you stupid Yankee carpet-bagging bitch, before I teach you some manners.”
Realizing she was physically no match for the healthy Southron lady, Hillary retreated hissing “I’ll be back here soon to rule you rednecks, mark my words!”
Webb watched this charged exchange with an even higher state of arousal. Here in this sea of delightful gems he had seen the crown jewel, the very queen of the harpies herself. He knew he had to have her. He must have her. He vowed that day she would bear his child if it was the last thing he ever did.