Anyone with a compulsion to kiss other people. Like this girl Leanne that I knew from high school. She wasn’t the prettiest girl in school. Hell, far from it! A lot of people thought she was downright nasty. But she would put out. And she would try to make out with anybody and everybody at every party or school dance or whatever other social occasion you’d care to think of.

Now the problems with Leanne being a Make Out Slut were numerous. First among them was her breath. Leanne’s breath smelled like someone opened a can of sardines and left it sitting on the lip a barrel filled with dirty gym socks for a few days. And her teeth weren’t much to look at neither. When you got close enough, you could see little black cavities peppering the orange facade of her teeth. And yes, her teeth were orange. Dark, burnt sienna orange, not bright tangerine orange. Almost brown, like horse or a beaver teeth. Except for the teeth that were completely black because the nerves inside had died from periodontal disease.

Another problem was her skin. Her skin was a mine field of angry zits, except where the zits festered into boils, except where the boils compounded into large, many-headed carbuncles that looked they might burst of their own accord, without any pinching or squeezing. And she did squeeze them. Practically without thinking. Her fingers were often wine-tipped with the blood that would ooze out after the pus was ejected. It was something she did as absently mindedly as a cow shooing flies with its tail. She’d just reach up and pinch a huge whitehead right in front of you while she was talking, and then wipe the discharge on her shirtfront without blinking an eye.

And if you preferred a slim figure on a girl, you’d be sorely disappointed with Leanne. Leanne was not what you’d call the athletic type. And she wasn’t exactly frail and feminine. She was more likely to be called morbidly obese than anything else, and this did nothing to flatter the greasy shock of hair that grew long and stringy on her head, parted, always, in the middle. Her hair wasn’t black, but it looked it, and this illusion the result of a build up of oil and dirt that left her naturally sandy blonde hair looking quite a lot darker than normal. She claimed she had an allergy jojoba or ylang-ylang or some infernal ingredient in shampoo that aggravated her sensitive skin, not that the oil and dirt did her much better, as her skin condition only worsened on her scalp, which was readily apparent because her hair was so thin that you could see right through it to scabs and sores beneath.

But man, could she kiss!

1.  Gary had a knack for picking out the easiest Make Out Slut at any party. His tongue spent more time in women’s mouths than his toothbrush spends in his.

2. Helene is an absolute Make Out Slut, but she’ll never go further than that. It’s like she’s welded together at the knees or something.

RELATED TERMS:

Leanne

Slore