BigJimsWornOutTires
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Ben Affleck is a private man. He’s a courageous father and devoted to his career, agents, and especially, friends. But one of his besties was closer to him than his wife, at the time, Jennifer Garner. And he would let him hang out at his mansion, even when he wasn’t there.
One morning, Affleck returned home from shooting a scene in Canada. After setting his luggage inside the foyer, he walked to the kitchen and noticed a familiar face. “Hey, buddy,” he said and approached him.
Matt Damon sat at the dining table, flicking paper footballs into a plant pot. There were a dozen empty bottles of Stella Artois and an uncapped silver flask on the table. Ben noticed a mirror adjacent to the booze with a white powdery film and a razor blade. He reacted, “Have anymore?”
Shaking his head in failure, he flicked another football towards the pot and missed. On the contrary, the floor had fifteen of them—the pot had zero. It seems Matt wasn’t a good finger kicker. Suddenly, out of the blue, he said to his buddy, “Do you like apples?”
Ben grabbed his shoulder and gently massaged it. He replied, “Are we seriously doing this Good Will Hunting shit again?”
“Entertain me, man, come on,” Matt said as he tilted his head and winced at his shoulder being fondled. Ben took the chair next to him. Arching both of his elbows into the polished oak, he joined his hands and raised eyebrows to his buddy.
“Last night,” Matt began. “I was on your couch in the living room, drinking booze and watching pornography on your television when Jennifer walked in.” Ben rubbed his forehead with his fingers and tightened his eyes shut. He continued, “She had a bottle of wine, but most of it was gone.”
Ben sighed and rubbed his forehead with more pressure. He was bothered by this anamnesis.
“She said she was thinking about auditioning for the sequel to 50 Shades of Grey,” Matt explained. “I told her that you might have a problem with that, considering the nudity involved. She said, “What, I’m not sexy enough for nude scenes?”
Still elbowed, Ben covered his eyebrows with one hand, his other fingers tapped the table from pinkie to index several times. His buddy carried on. “And let me remind you, she was only wearing a long tee shirt, and-” he paused in his recollection. You could tell the incident consumed his thoughts.
Matt glanced at Ben, his eyebrows tilted, and he recited, “She said, 'Look at this shade.' I looked, and her shirt was pulled up. I saw her puffy clit and partially opened crevice!”
Ben stared into the void, wishing for the end of this long apple parody.
Matt described Jennifer dancing and flashing her privates. “She twerked her ass three feet from me! I could smell the remnants from her recent dump. Have you ever watched the Casting Couch?” Ben ignored him and rolled his eyes into his head. Matt told him she pulled her ass cheeks apart several times while trying to provoke him to hit it.
“She backed up and sat on my knee,” Matt said to his buddy, whose eyelids were tightly closed. “She rubbed herself back and forth on it like a pervert would do. Her vagina was wet, bro! She dropped to her knees between my legs. She turned and faced me. She began unzipping my jeans while saying,” he heightened his pitch to a woman’s tone and recited, 'Mommy hungry.'
Shaking his head, Ben sat back and folded his arms as Matt continued. “She then said the oddest thing after she licked it once.” Affleck looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Matt spilled, “She asked if I wanted to be blindfolded. I told her no. She smiled! She said you prefer it that way.” Ben covered his face again, but this time, with both of his hands. His buddy continued, “As I’m about to burst a load, I told her back off—she locked her mouth in place and pushed my hands away! Your wife swallowed my cum, bro!”
Finally, Ben spoke, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Welp,” Matt says, and looks at him with a serious expression. “How do you like them apples?”
Abruptly, Ben stood to his feet. He leaned over to his friend in an aggressive approach. He solemnly said, “I haven’t even hit that.” Matt’s eyes went wide, and mouth gaped. He returned to a straight posture and explained, “Those kids are laboratory products, man. Like all Hollywood nepos are.”
Matt was speechless. Ben added, “Besides, why do you think I let you hang out here so much?”
His eyebrow raised. He retorted, “Because we’re best friends?”
Ben burst out laughing and raised his voice, “To make her happy, dipshit! And hoping,” he bent over again and placed his hand on Matt’s leg, “One day you’ll enjoy a Kevin Smith snowball with me.”
Matt beamed at this revelation. His pulse skyrocketed. As Afflect stepped towards the mirror on the table, his bestie pushed for more information, “Kevin’s a fag, too?”
Nodding his head, he grabbed the razor blade and began scraping the mirror. He assured him things were not what they appeared to be. Ben added, “Not only him but both of the Jasons are as well. We all are, except…” he turned back to Matt and wrinkled his forehead.
“Bro, I can’t do that, I like women too much,” Matt whined.
“It’s cool, man,” Ben reacted. “We might be divorcing soon, anyway. I have my eyes set on this gorgeous transgender woman, you know about her.” He tossed the blade to the mirror. He couldn’t gather enough cocaine to snort.
“Okay, I don’t? Who?”
“Jennifer Lopez.”
After he revealed this Hollywood secret, Matt downed his flask until it was empty.
“Last night,” Ben said. “I sucked her dick as she sucked mine. It was the most beautiful moment I ever felt. She calls me her Batman.”
“Because you’re rich like Bruce Wayne?”
“Because I licked her bat cave cleaned,” he replied and winked. “That’s her asshole, if you catch my meaning?”
“Bro, I saw pictures of Lopez in a bikini. I didn’t see any lump down there.”
“She tapes Wahlberg inside her booty chunks.”
“Wahlberg, like Mark and his brothers?”
“That’s what she calls her penis because it’s small.”
“Why do you keep referring to him as a her?”
“Oh, no, no, please, no, buddy,” disappointed with his friend, Ben said. “It’s time you leave.”
“And why would you swap a hot piece-of-ass-Jennifer for a creepy Hispanic man with the same name?” Without a pause, Ben charged Matt and shoved him off the chair. He fell to his knees and punched him in the stomach.
“Why couldn’t you just be quiet this one damn time?” He shouted and punched him again. Matt rolled into a fetal position. As he gasped for air, Ben stood and kicked him in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. Grabbing Matt by his hair, he dragged him to the front door. He opened it.
The severely injured friend crawled outside. Before slamming the door shut, Ben shouted, “I hate you! I hate you!”
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