An English Lesson on South Beach

Tiffany Griffith was 26, gorgeous, and had thing for men with great bodies. I know, what a rebel, right? Tiffany was also very rich, very spoiled, and prone to lapses in judgement.

For example a year ago after a night out with Vanessa English at a club she was heard saying, “That girl is such a snob. And so weird too. Dresses like she’s always going to the ball or something. Fucking pathetic. ” and “She’s a fake party girl. Like she doesn’t even really party, you know? I think she’s frigid.”

To be fair Tiffany was drunk at the time and didn’t realize the woman she was chatting up was a reporter but still. Those comments got out. And Vanessa never forgot it.

So the night Tiffany was in Miami Beach partying it up at LIV, a trendy club at the Fontainebleau, it was no surprise that Vanessa, across the bay in Miami, didn’t call or make an attempt to see her old friend. But there was a surprise that night.

Tiffany had gotten drunk and decided her stud for the night was a local Cuban named Jorge. He was a fine choice. He was built, handsome, and checked off all the obvious boxes for Tiffany. She left the club and went up to her room with her man for the night.

The two went inside Tiffany’s suite and made a beeline for the bedroom. Tiffany pushed Jorge on the bed. He took off his button down shirt and showed off his toned, hairless chest.

“The pants too,” Tiffany said grinning. Jorge quickly obliged, ditching his shoes, socks, and chinos in an instant.

Tiffany took a long look at her spoils for the night and seeing Jorge’s bulge in his shorts said, “Mmmm, Tiffy loves a stiffy.”

She took off her top and shook her dirty blonde curly locks. Jorge’s eyes widened in anticipation as he saw the small bra straining to contain Tiffany’s 36D tits. When she unhooked the bra in the front and took it off setting them free they seemingly burst free. Her erect nipples nearly popping his eyes out.

Tiffany then unzipped her short skirt, letting it fall to the floor and her tan legs and black thong were now on full display. She was drop dread gorgeous. Tiffany turned off the light and hopped on top of Jorge.

She starting kissing him and moaning and letting her hands explore his soft body. Wait. Soft body? Yes, Jorge was softer than she realized. She kept on kissing him and writing on top of him. Where did that erection go? Oh wait here it is. Hmmm, smaller than it seemed, she thought. No matter, she was already here.

Tiffany hopped up on top of Jorge, letting his hard penis inside her soft, wet, shaved pussy and she started riding her Cuban stud. But something wasn’t right. A light popped on and Tiffany screamed. This wasn’t Jorge at all. She was on top of a sweaty, hairy, 300lb man named Manolo.

“Who the fuck are you?” she screamed.

“Who the fuck are you?” he screamed back.

Tiffany got off of Manolo (but didn’t get him off) and stood next to the bed, covering herself with her hands.

“How did you get in my room, you disgusting pig?” she said. “Oh look at you. You’re so gross. I’m gonna be sick.”

Manolo was just as confused. “Listen bitch, I don’t know who you are, but you’re in MY APARTMENT. And I think you should leave.”

Manolo grabbed Tiffany by the arm and dragged her to his front door, opened it, and shoved the naked, screaming party girl out of his Miami Beach apartment and into the night.

“Hey wait, I need my clothes!” she yelled into the door. That was when she heard the flash bulbs pop. Behind her, were several members of the paparazzi, tipped off that a socialite was up to “something” at this seedy apartment. Tiffany Griffith, naked, sweating, and confused, turned out and had half a dozen flashed go off.

The whole encounter, with Jorge AND Manolo, had been videotaped and spliced together cutting Jorge out of the picture and released online. Her gag inducing line of “Tiffy loves a stiffy” would be mocked and repeated for years.

Manolo, shirtless and massive, gave interviews the next day saying, "This loca burts into my apartment and starts to fuck me. Okay, right? But then she started bodyshaming me. What? Come on, bro. That's not right."

The next day a member of the press spotted Vanessa and asked for a comment. Vanessa, overdressed as always, put a gloved hand to her mouth and said, “What? Oh I hadn’t heard. That’s just terrible.” He could have sworn she was trying not to smile.

If there was one person Vanessa despised above all others it was Kitty Van Look. Or as Vanessa called her, “Kitty Van Look At Me”.

Kitty was a media sensation. She wore short shirts and flimsy clothes. Her body was slim, had solid B cup breasts (if you consider that solid and Vanessa certainly didn’t), long thin legs, and a decent ass. Kitty was a very unmodest girl with very modest curves. But she had no problem showing them off. Bathing suit pictures, skin tight photo shoots, and barely there dresses that TMZ would should on a nightly basis, were all part of the Kitty Van Look experience.

She had a line of makeup, a reality show, and endless energy.

As much as Vanessa hated Kitty, the press and the public LOVED her. She was showy and fun and shameless. She would ‘accidentally’ show too much off and garner witless headlines like ‘Kitty Shows Off Her Kitty’ or ‘(Van) Look What She’s Done Now!’

While Vanessa liked to go out to clubs and dance, she wouldn’t let anyone get near her, Kitty let the world in. And the world loved it. She was two inches taller than Vanessa, more popular than Vanessa, was a natural blonde, and even came from a richer family.

Vanessa had known Kitty all her life. They lived in the same town, went to the same school (private of course) and were rivals from day one. So Vanessa knew that one person she had to humiliate. The one she HAD to take down, was Kitty.

She couldn’t do it right away of course. So a few others had wardrobe malfunctions and other embarrassments. Had to throw people off the scent. Vanessa even made sure to not be present when these things happened, though she was always found nearby with a quote for the press.

“Oh no, that’s so tragic.”

“Who knew she was that way? I certainly wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Oh my, that’s just disgusting. I mean really, farm animals? How depraved can you be?”

But it was all leading to this. To Kitty Van Look and the humiliation of a lifetime. She was going to end the media’s love for this blonde bimbo once and for all. And if you were going to end your lifelong rival once and for all, you’d probably want to be there front and center.

So to the surprise of the world Vanessa tweeted out to her 2 million twitter followers:

“@TheVanessaEnglish I will happily be attending Kitty Van Look’s charity auction this week. Kitty always knows how to keep it interesting and I wouldn’t want to miss it.” Kitty and her 4.5 million followers took notice.

And so did we.

“We got her,” Sophie said, looking up from her phone. “She’s going to be at Kitty Van Look’s charity auction tomorrow night!”

I’ll spare you the part where I said, “Kitty Van Who? Is that a real person?” and Sophie made fun of me for it.

The main thing is, we know where Vanessa’s going to be.

And we’re going to get that damn watch back.