"It's New Year they make a fuss of in Scotland, not Christmas," Becky said when Jason told her of this year's plan.
"You can't accuse me of coming up with a boring idea this time," Jason replied.
Jason had heard about Festive Flash Fling from another of the 'Roger And In' club members and had decided it sounded like the kind of challenge he thought he could tempt Becky with.
"So let me just recap here. You want us to spend Christmas day racing around Scotland. We stand outside with kilts on and take photos of ourselves holding them up to our chins and flashing our knob and fanny. The one with the best flashes wins...what exactly?
"The respect of fellow flashers and a vintage and highly-collectable bottle of Irn Bru with a 'Fanny' label," Jason replied.
"Oh well, how can I say 'no' after you've dangled a carrot like that?" Becky said, a trained ear possibly able to detect the faintest tone of sarcasm in her voice.
Naturally, Christmas Eve saw temperatures drop, meaning a heavy frost was lying, as Jason and Becky checked in online for the competition.
"Double score for any combined flash showing a cock in a slot, remember," a message flashed up once registration formalities had been completed.
With a few people milling around, Jason and Becky had to settle for simple hoists and clicks for a short time. With a Fanny bottle at stake, Jason decided to check the scores on the doors.
"Eighth out of twenty? Cock in slot bonuses are a must," Jason said, feeling disappointed.
Becky might not always have appreciated some of Jason's weirdness, but she was naturally competitive. A fanny bottle was indeed a grand prize, but a recently posted picture from the current competition leader stirred a determination that had not been evident beforehand.
"That bitch can't win. This means war!" Becky shouted as she saw the name of the woman she had spent years hoping to get even with named as one half of the team currently in the top spot.
"We have to up our game, Jason. Donna Kebabface stole the batteries out of my vibrator when we went on a field trip with college and laughed in my face about it. We can't lose to her and Bobby Buckfast; we just can't." Becky said, fuming.
***
Finding the marker pen was just the stroke of luck Becky knew she needed. As she tied the string around her waist, the mistletoe nestled above her lips under her kilt, and she wrote on the large piece of cardboard with a smile.
"Kiss me under the mistletoe, and we'll show the internet who's boss. Please queue behind the sign." Becky wrote.
Within five minutes, Becky had her kilt lifted and tucked under her chin, as lucky passers-by got an unexpected Christmas gift, courtesy of a flash sale of significant interest.
Customers wrote down their email addresses so Jason could send them the souvenir photo he took. Of course, Jason also made sure to update others in the flashing competition with events too.
"We're rising faster than your cock on the promise of a blowjob, Jason," Becky shouted as she took a short break to give her wet hole a breather.
As Jason placated an impatient queue, he heard a group of women laughing at the scene they had stumbled across.
"I hope there's a meal deal for the girls, too!" one of the ladies shouted.
A scribbled note stating Jason had a giggle machine under his kilt that was operated by a handle answered the query in a way Becky felt perfectly captured the mood.
Managing two queues wasn't easy, but Becky's determination was the key.
Hoist, sucked, photo, smile, email address, thank you, swap over. It ran like fanny and 'cockwork' !
Once Becky and Jason had closed the pop-up, they slipped away and looked for somewhere to upload their latest contributions to the competition page using Becky's phone. Becky made sure she claimed all of the bonuses she felt entitled to and then sat back to think of how she and Jason could make a last push for the treasured prize.
"Hello, Becky," a woman's voice called out.
Becky looked up and saw Donna Kebabface, the vibe battery thief, standing in front of her. Bobby Buckfast was there too. but he looked very subdued and out of sorts.
"The fanny bottle's as good as yours, Becky. Bob was giving it the beans, and his Knobby Knobkins was hit by some flying glass when a table was thrown. He's lost his fizz after the incident and wants to keep Knobby Knobkins under wraps now." Donna said, looking crestfallen.
Becky felt Donna's pain as she listened to the sad tale of Knobby Knobkins. Jason felt Bobby Buckfast's agony when he heard the account of his incident too.
"We can't let a vibrator come between us, Becky," Donna said as she took the double-ended one she had with her out of her bag.
"If we let it come between us and Jason lends you his kilt, we could bury a very nice hatchet for the sake of the competition," Becky said in a conciliatory tone.
"Double-ended fuckywuckydoodah! I can almost feel that fanny bottle already!" Donna cried out with joy.
Jason caught Becky and Donna's up flash with his phone well, the double-ender already nestling inside Donna, giving the picture a certain something. The shots he took of them grinding with their hoisted kilts caught the mood splendidly. A couple of pictures of the audience the show had attracted seemed to capture everything and make it all come together, just as Becky and Donna did noisily, too, and to applause.
Becky and Donna's show meant the competition was over as a contest. Nobody could touch them, though quite a few had done.
Becky, Donna, and Jason loved their fanny prize, which was passed around between them for years.
Happy Christmas!
