Footsies

Author’s Note:  This is a work of erotica if you’re under the age of eighteen, LEAVE NOW.  Another short story from a book I haven’t gotten around to submitting.  This time–foot fetishes!

          I wanted him hard, stiff and unable to touch me.  That was my plan and it was a good one since Dale and I have been together for fifteen years.  We married right out of high school.  Our oldest, Jason was now fourteen and his sister, Hannah was eleven.  Romance and sexual exploration went right out the window after our seventh year together.  It’s too hard (and dangerous) to be playing out any fantasies when you son or daughter can come waltzing through the door or banging on it if it’s locked.  Interruptions during this sort of thing can lead to really bad feelings or emotional scarring.

            I’d been preparing for this particular weekend since my mother called up and invited the kids to fly out to Colorado for three days.  Dale was working a new job and didn’t have vacation time.  Me?  Well, let’s say I saw the opportunity and took the chance.  Begging off my mother’s invite with the excuse we couldn’t afford airline tickets for me (which was true) I began plotting and planning for the remaining two weeks.

            I had begun watching my husband watch me.  No, not in that lust-filled way but just noticing which particular feature he seemed to be drawn to.  After a decade and a half I was a bit surprised to figure out my husband had a thing for feet.  The first instance was during a trip to the shoe store.  Dale’s eyes seemed to get that far-away look when I took off my shoes to try on a pair of pumps.  He began fidgeting in his seat—that my-crotch-is- uncomfortable kind of squirming.  That sealed it.  I set my sights on putting my foot down.

            Starting off the day with a pedicure at the mall I began pondering my feet trying to see the attraction Dale had.  I’m five-foot, six inches tall and still possessed a petite figure.  Not my hips, unfortunately—childbirth had seen to expand them.  But it gave me curves, a less boyish frame.  While the Asian girl buffed my toe nails I got just a brief understanding of Dale’s obsession.  My feet were slender and my toes were cute—in a roundabout way.  The arch of my foot was reminding me of a low-slung bridge across a small stream.  While the woman began to rub lotion on me I relaxed and planned out my naughty surprise for my husband.

****

            He came home.  Dale set his lunchbox on the kitchen counter and got a glass out of the cabinet. 

            “Bad day?” I asked.

            “You could say that,” he said filling the cup with water.

            “The kids made it to Mom’s okay.”

            “Good, I was worried.”

            “You look beat—why don’t you take a shower and a nap while I cook dinner?”

            “Sounds like a good plan.”

            No, it doesn’t… I have a much better plan in mind! I thought amid a tremor of excitement.

            Dale kissed me and headed for the bathroom.  Dinner was hard to concentrate on since my arousal at driving my husband crazy and the hot sex we’d have afterwards made my mind wander.  Carousing down erotic lanes I had to bite my lip to keep my attention focused.

****

            Sitting in the living room watching TV Dale and I talked very little.  He was focused on a news story about a fifteen car pileup on the freeway he used every day to go to work. 

            “Quiet without the kids, isn’t it?” I said, venturing into the start of my seduction.

            “Yeah,” Dale answered, “I forgot what silence sounds like.”

            “Do you really want to watch this?”

            “Not particularly—why, do you have something in mind?”

            Do I? I thought and almost spoke.

            Standing up I offer him my hand, he starts grinning as if he knows what I’m up to.  I try not to laugh because I know what Dale’s thinking is going to happen will be a far cry from reality.  We move to the bedroom.

            Letting go of his hand I start lighting the scented candles I’ve placed around the room.  They smell of jasmine.  I press the play button on the CD player and romantic classical music begins to issue out of the speakers.  He’s moving to kiss me so I let Dale do it.  Our lips meet.  Our tongues begin to dance together and his hands go around my waist.  While the strains of Bach rise I undress him slow and without hurry.

            One button at a time I bare his chest.  Caressing the curly hair he has I’m running my fingers over his pecs and stomach while his breathing increases.  I watch his nostrils flare with every intake of air and his eyes close.  Down I run my hands until I reach his jeans.  Tugging loose his belt I push my left thigh into his legs.  My hip is bumping across the beginnings of his erection.  The snap-sound of his jeans is quickly followed by the rip-tear noise of his descending zipper.  Heat pours out of the opening, wafting across my trembling fingers.  From the top of his underwear I can see the tip of his cock pushing upwards.  He’s hard already.

            The pants hit the floor covering his feet.  I kneel down and he lifts one foot at a time so I can tug off the legs of his jeans.  I make him lift them again so I can remove his socks.  Dale’s hands are on my head, his touch gentle while his fingers wander through my hair.  I pull off his underwear revealing the thatch of black pubic hair curling around the base of his rampant cock.  Marveling at the sight I drink in the twitching head, the jutting veins and the pearly drop of pre-come glistening at the tip.  I want him—in my mouth, pussy and a few other places but I have to tell myself to slow down, to stick to the plan.

            “Been so long since we could take our time,” I hear him say.

            “That’s true,” I reply standing up.

            “Your turn…”

            “No, I’ve got a surprise.  Sit down on the bed, please.”

            He gives me a look of confusion and I’m forced to take his hand and lead him to our bed.  Dale takes a seat and I help him into position.  His back is against the brass headboard, his legs spread apart with his knees straight. 

            “What’s going on here,” Dale says when I show him the soft purple rope I have pulled from under the bed.  I’d bought it at a sex shop a few days ago.

            “Shush,” I tell him, “just play along, okay?”

            “Sure, Zoe.”

            His voice is filled with both a sense of erotic wonderment with just the right arousing sprinkling of nervousness.  Dale’s eyes get a bit wide when I begin to tie his wrists to the brass headboard. 

            “I… um… are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

            “Absolutely,” I answer.

            Once he’s secured I pull out a white-and-red bag from a lingerie shop, blow him a kiss and leave the room.  He starts to say something but decides against it. I almost sprint to the bathroom.  Tossing off my clothes and dumping them into the hamper I pull on the pink teddy, tiny thong and slip my feet into the feathery mules I bought.  The pink tips of my painted toenails are jutting out of the provocative shoes.

            “Okay, just relax,” I tell my reflection, “he’s going to like this—trust in yourself.”

            I clomp my way back to the bedroom and present myself with a raised arm, cocked hip and (hopefully) my best sultry smile.  Dale’s gone slightly limp, his prick at half-staff almost touching the scented sheets.

            “Ta-da!” I announce.

            “Oh my… you are so beautiful!” Dale exclaims.  “Is this the surprise?”

            “Part of it.”

            Climbing on the bed I work into position until I’m facing him.  I sway to the music, Bach’s concerto has picked up steam and I begin to caress my breasts to the rhythm.  Through half-closed eyes I see Dale’s interest rise as well as the cock between his legs.  Twisting around I show him the pink slip of fabric running between the swells of my ass-cheeks.  I run a finger from the base of my pussy up through the hills of my bottom before jutting out my hips to push my rear closer to him.  Dale’s breathing, hot and heavy tells me my performance is satisfactory.  Wiggling my ass at him I tug down the thong, slow and seductively.  When my rear is fully exposed I let the thong dangle off my right foot.  That’s when Dale notices the mules I’m wearing.

            “Those shoes,” he says, “when did you buy them?”

            I don’t answer because I want him to wonder, to indulge in visions of me buying even more naughty footwear while he’s at work. Dale leans toward my foot and my underwear but I swing my leg away and slither off the bed.  The thong drops off to parts unknown.  Grinding my hips and running my hands up and down my sides (occasionally over my breasts) I send him into a silenced staring contest between his eyes and my undulating body.  I pluck at my breasts, tweak my nipples and run a finger slowly up the wet labia of my cunt. 

            “Oh, this is so hot!” he breaths out in a sudden husk.

            Tugging at the strings holding the teddy on me I let it slide off.  Now I’m nude except for those shoes.  Climbing back on the bed I drape one leg over each of his and squirm against the sheets.  Dale can’t stop his occasional glance at my mule-encased feet.  I dangle them off my feet, precariously hanging just shy of hitting the mattress.  When he finally sees my painted toes I hear him suck in a ragged, desperate breath.  Laying on my back I push my elbows into the backs of my knees, splaying my legs far apart and putting my feet just above my pussy.  I’m open, vulnerable and Dale’s gasping for air.

            “W-what are you going to… oh s-shit!” he moans when I begin to touch myself.

            I pull apart the lips of my pussy, stroking it gently before circling the outer fringes of myself with one pink nailed finger.  My feet dance in mid-air. 

            “Ooooh,” I groan when I slip a finger into myself. 

            “Z-Zoe,” Dale sighs, “you’re killing me here”

            “Not yet… not by a long shot, baby.”

            His cock is flexing in quick jerking flicks.  He can’t touch himself let alone me so the frustration is mounting.  Dipping another finger into my moist slit I moan and grind on the bed.  Dale is trying to lean towards me, his efforts making the headboard creak and groan.

            I think I have his attention, I laugh to myself.

            Scooting back on the bed I flick off the mules and extend my legs towards him, stroking his face with my feet.  Dale’s eyes close and he heaves out a ragged, excited breath.  Every touch of the balls of my feet against his shaven face causes his cock to bob up and down in a quick jerk. 

            “I figured out something about you I never knew,” I tell him.

            “What,” he replies in a dreamy, hungry voice.

            “You like my feet.”

            I hold them up to his mouth.  Tentatively, like I’m going to either yank them away to tease or because he thinks I’m grossed out he extends his tongue.  I let Dale lick my toes, one at a time.  Having them sucked so lovingly I find I’m aroused by it.  I only giggle when he runs his tongue over the ticklish spot on the soles. 

            “You like this,” I say.

            He doesn’t answer but then I rub them against his chest, dragging them softly to his navel while Dale’s body goes into spastic convulsions.  Sweat is beading on his brow, shoulders and chest and it glistens in the candlelight. 

            “Oooh… yeah,” he moans when my right foot caresses his stiff cock.

            I’m afraid he’s going to cum right there from that single stroke but he manages to hold it off.  His eyes are fixated on my feet as he leans forward when I curl the arches of my feet around the thick shaft of his prick.  I rub them together and run them up his quivering shaft.  At the end I squeeze the tip and let the drop of pre-come ooze between my toes.  Dale is husking for air, deep gasps and lip-quivering exhales send a warm breeze across me feet.

            “You want to cum all over my feet?” I ask, “Want to watch your naughty sperm squishing between my toes?”

            “Yes, oh hell yes,” he groans loudly.

            “I’m going to stroke your cock with my feet until exactly that happens.  Then, since I’ll be so worked up you’ll have to eat my pussy until I cum, agreed?  Then I’ll untie you.”

            “Yes… yes a-anything…”

            I push his prick against his stomach with one foot and rub it.  With my other I begin to stroke his nuts with the ball of my foot.  Dale is gasping for air, moaning soft and low while I play with him.  I manage to spread my big toe apart from the rest and push the tube-shaped bottom of his cock between it. 

            “Ooohh… ah!” he cries out when my other foot rubs the small piece of skin between the base of his cock and his puckered anus. 

Dale raises his legs, bending his knees while spreading himself as far apart as possible so I can toe-thumb his butt while rubbing his prick with my other foot.  He can’t speak—he’s overwhelmed.  My pussy is so damp I can look down and see the sheet beneath my ass is wet with my dripping juices.

            “S-so close… oh Zoe… I’m so c-close,” he gasps.

            Taking my other foot away from his rear I put his cock between my arches and begin to jerk him off.  He’s moaning in primal need.  A deep guttural sound mixed with just the barest hint of a desperate whine.  I feel his prick expand between my arches, his chest thrusting out with every breath while I give him a foot-job.

            “Oh.  Yes.  Oh. Y-yes,” Dale sobs.  “Zoe… make me c-c-cum!”

            The time has arrived and I feel the jerking tremor rising up through his cock and just before he shoots I cover the head of his cock with my toes. 

            “Y-y-yes!” he cries out loudly.

            Warm, thick shots of his sperm squirt out between my toes and hit him on the chest.  Each spew from him grow stronger and covers more of my feet until I’m stickily anointed from ankle to toe.  Dale’s body lunges forward with every spastic cum-shot and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut.  Only a soft whine escapes his clenched, white lips.

            With a few final spurts he’s done having given me his all.  Dale opens his eyes and lets out a long, deep moan when I begin to suck my toes clean.  Luck for him I’m still as flexible as I was when I was a gymnast back in high school.  As I tongue away the salty-sweet dollops of his seed I find myself desperate for any sort of sexual release.  My pussy is literally thumping with pulsating need.

            “That was fun,” I tell him.

            “N-now what?” he asked.

            I stand up and slide one leg at a time over his shoulders and put my hands on his head. 

            “You’re gonna eat me out until I get off,” I say.

            I know I’ll be sore by Monday when I go to pick the kids up at the airport but I don’t care because the magic is back in our sex life. Feeling like my heart has dropped near my cunt, the thundering beat of it centered on my wet pussy I begin to untie him.  Filing away his reaction to my toeing his butt I put this away for future reference.  Dale starts devouring my excited, throbbing pussy and I let out a long moan.

            “L-lick me slowly,” I say with a shudder, “we’ve got all weekend.”

Sylvia’s Initiation: Blue Existence and Red Lust now available!

The first two parts of the trilogy of Sylvia’s Intiation are currently for sale at Sizzler’s Editions (http://shop.renebooks.com/default.asp).  The three novels explore the dangerous, slippery slope from those experimenting with sex after a upbringing in a strict religious enviroment.  Sylvia, a nurse by profession is unhappy with her single status and her view on how all men seem to be after is sex.  To her, sex is dirty and humiliating act only meant for the procreation of the human race.  But a chance encounter with a college professor starts her down this new path.  Will Sylvia go too far?  Or will she cast off the shackles of her impressionable years and embrace sexuality for what it is?

Sylvia's Initiation: Blue Existence

Blurb for Sylvia’s Initiation: Blue Existence

Erotica noir at its darkest and most disturbing. Sylvia Meyers, a nurse who was brought up in an orphanage.  Sylvia seeks true love and scorns the those only interested in sex.  But that all changes when she meets visiting professor Nick Dekker.  Nick is open, honest and very experienced.  Sylvia finds herself intrigued by his matter-of-fact attitude towards sex.  She decided to let him teach her.  Nick helps Sylvia break through the Catholic upbringing even after she regresses after a particular terrible dream.  Sylvia becomes a sexual explorer.  Straight, anal, light bondages and multiple partners are experienced.  Each one permits her to delve deeper and deeper into sexual awareness.  Sylvia also unwittingly becomes a slave to erotic sensations. Can she break the addiction – and should she if she can?

Sylvia's Initiation: Red Lust

Blurb for Sylvia’s Initiation: Red Lust

After discovering her lover was a con-artist, Sylvia takes her hatred towards men to new heights as she begins to experiment in bondage.  Like a moth to a flame Brian Henson is caught up in Sylvia’s web of erotic torment.  In addition to Brian, Sylvia “recruits” her co-worker, Tiffany comes over to witness Brian’s punishment.  During the heat of the action Tiffany finds herself wanting to submit to Sylvia’s sexual domination.  Lives, pleasures and punishments begin to become woven into a dangerous tapestry as Brian and Tiffany vie for Sylvia’s attention.  But Sylvia’s Catholic upbringing once more rears it’s ugly head.  Is Sylvia damning herself or is it all just her imagination?A passionate and wildly erotic tale of sexual initiation by a master of BDSM erotica!   If you liked the first book, SYLVIA’S INITIATION I, then you will absolutely think that this new book in the series is just as hot – if not even hotter!

Like Sexy Shorts?

Recently I’ve sent out and had published two short stories on Every Night Erotica’s website (www.everynighterotica.com).  Here’s what you’ll find of mine there:

Subway.  This tale is all about a young woman commuting to work and feeling a little frustrated since she’s been single (and horny) for so long.  What starts out as a commute turns into her being “felt up” in a crowed subway car.

A Silk Distraction.  What woman doesn’t hate their period?  Tired, aching and cranky a woman finds her boyfriend Lenny a bit too “aroused” during this time.  But a chance conversation about her newly purchased silk gloves leads her out of the sore mental cave and into the realm of hot erotic passion.

Again you can search for them here:

http://www.everynighterotica.com/

Enjoy!

Chris

The Halloween Party

AUTHOR’S NOTE; The following is a work of horror/erotica not intended for those under the age of eighteen.  If you are a minor PLEASE LEAVE NOW!

The Halloween Party

            Tamara Collins looked into the mirror and saw the smile spread on her reflected image.  The black lips parted with ease.  Her teeth shone like evenly shaped polished ivory except the false fangs she wore.  The dark makeup around her eyes made the optometrist bought contacts appear to be even more frightening.  The redness of them caused her to be momentarily startled.  Her face was white, deathly white with only the faintest hint of grayness around her cheekbones to give her a gaunt, hollow appearance.  Tamara’s throat, slender and long flowed into a pair of shoulders both round and firm.  Following a gold necklace which dripped around her neck she took great delight in appreciating how the low cut, black dress deepened her cleavage in a provocative, almost obscene manner.  The image in the mirror brought up its hands and she turned them around fascinated by the costume jewelry rings upon those dainty fingers. 

            “I vant to drink your blood,” she cooed, in a fake Hungarian accent.

            This set of a series of giggling which made the mirror woman wiggle voluptuously.  She let out a sigh.

            “This ought to get somebody’s attention,” she told herself.

            The viewers watched the woman get up.  The big plasma screen in front of them showing her adjusting her dress and hair before snagging a long black coat and an ebony purse with a skull-like clasp holding it closed.  The scene played forward almost inhumanly quickly until it reached the door to a house.  There was a party going on, a wild raucous one at that.  Several of the watchers grunted in parental disgust.

            Tamara watched the door open and saw her best friend Jill standing there attired in a naughty French maid’s outfit.  The costume was scandalous, short and very revealing.

            “Hey Jill,” she shouted over the loud music.

            “What’s up Tami?” the woman hollered back.

            “Just ready to get my freak on!”

            “Well come on in—the guys are hot and the beer is cold.”

            She walked inside and noticed her BFF was already drunk, swaying dangerously on her high heels.  Tamara looked into the room and noticed several of the collegiate men were leering at her.  Their mutual thoughts were plain on their red cheeked faces.  Doffing the coat and letting it fall to the floor she immediately was the center of attention.

            “Hey everyone,” Jill shrieked, “this is my BFF Tami!”

            A rowdy and deep chorus of hellos thundered up from the slowly circling men.  Each face was now alit with false charming smiles trying to hide their lecherous fantasies.  Tamara laughed and curtsied.  The women at the party just waved, hating the arrival of more competition.

            “The big blonde vampire is Fred and he’s mine,” Jill whispered drunkenly into her ear.

            Tamara turned to face her friend and noticed the dancing carnal thoughts sparkling in her deep brown eyes.

            The seated viewers watched as dispassionately as they could while Tamara walked deeper into the revelry, snagging an offered red plastic cup from an admirer.  One of them, an older woman let out a huffing grunt of distain.  Her vocal displeasure only grew more agitated when the beautiful twenty-one year old began dancing to the ear-popping thump of a suggestive Rap song.  Once more the scene increased in speed making the images on the screen bounce wildly until it slowed once more.  Tamara was now engaged in conversation, loudly spoken with a man dressed in a clown costume.  His bizarre appearances made several of the witnesses laugh.  He was dressed in a white full body costume sporting large red, blue and yellow polka dots.  The older woman hissed out of her fear of clowns.

            “So you’re a psych major,” Tamara yelled.

            “Yeah just entered my second year,” the man yelled, stretching the large red lips painted onto his white pancake face.

            “What’s your name?”

            “Zachary Richards…Zack for short.”
            “You know clowns really creep me out.”

            “Sorry I wish I hadn’t worn this now that I’ve met you.  But it was all I could afford since my dorm mate borrowed my last twenty.”

“Why’d ya give it to him?”
“He wanted to take his girlfriend out and was broke so I felt sorry for him.”

“That’s really cool of you.”

“Well that’s just the kind of guy I am.  So you go to Howard State?”

“No I wish I did.  Couldn’t afford it—my folks aren’t exactly rich and I couldn’t seem to qualify for a loan.”

“That’s a shame, you look really smart.”

“Thanks!”

“And in case you haven’t seen a mirror lately, well you’re beautiful too.”

Tamara began giggling and felt a few splashes of beer trickling onto her fishnet stockings.  She apologized but was interrupted halfway by a hiccup.  Zack handed her a black napkin which was covered with bright orange pumpkins. 

He’s a real gentleman, she thought, mopping up the wet spot on her right thigh.

“So can I ask if you’re single?” the clown inquired.

“Totally,” she shouted back.

“Must be my lucky night then.”
“Oh really—so sure of yourself?”

“No you don’t understand.  It’s just you’re really pretty and I thought this party was going to be a mistake.  Instead of leaving early I’m sitting with the sexiest woman in the place and having a wonderful time.”

He’ got a nice face and I just love those big brown eyes of his, she thought.  I can’t really tell if he’s handsome because of the makeup but I’m betting he’s not ugly.  In fact he’s pretty hot.

“You’re pretty hot yourself,” Tamara stated, repeating her last thought.
“Thanks!” he hollered back.

“Look the music’s giving me a headache—wanna step outside?”

“Sure.”

She got up and immediately, accidentally staggered but Zack caught her without groping her body.  She made a mental note of the way he avoided being helpful but not taking advantage of the situation.  Shuffling her feet encased in her black thigh high, long heeled boots she let him lead her to the backdoor. 

The silent viewers began to breathe more rapid while watching them pass the swaying bodies shimmying to the dull, loud thumping music.  A turning glance of Tamara’s revealed the party’s hostess seated on the lap of a man dressed in a vampire costume.  They were locked in a fierce kiss so animalistic it seemed they were devouring each other’s faces.  The images swayed from side to side, the clarity of the monitor was fuzzier.  Everyone seated there in front of the big screen television was acutely aware it wasn’t due to technical difficulties or any static interference.  Suddenly the music faded to a more reasonable audio level and the sounds of crickets rose in the California night air.

Tamara’s footwear began to become troublesome.  Despite the flatness of the back lawn the three inch spikes beneath her heels sank like a fork into a birthday cake.  Each step was a chore of yanking her foot out of the soft loam while sinking the other deeper.

“You okay?” Zack inquired, his voice sounding very concerned for her wellbeing.

“My fucking boots are getting stuck,” she swore, immediately regretting her unlady-like choice of words.

“Here let me help you.”

She let out a surprised squeal as he carefully picked her up and carried her effortlessly to a children’s swing set.  The warm of his touch, the coiled tightness of his muscles and faint smell of his body-wash began to work on her already aroused libido.  Zack set her down on the swing and sat cross-legged in front of her on the lawn.

“All better?” he asked, his red mouth parting in a wide smile.

“Thanks,” she giggled.  “I guess I had too much to drink so soon.”

“Well the night air will help you chase away some of your buzz.”

Her gaze locked onto his face and she felt a frown wrinkle her brow.  He was sitting there smiling but still his hidden, true appearance began to bother her.

“Hey you know this really ain’t fair.  I can’t get a good look at your face because of all that makeup,” she stated.

“Okay let me run out to the car,” he offered.  “But you gotta promise me not to wander off or let some other guy start chatting you up.”

“Oh isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No!  I’m just getting to know the prettiest girl at the party.  I have no plans other than conversation.”

“Got a weak pimp hand, then?”

He laughed at the phrase and said, “Well I’ve never been too good with the ladies.”

“Perhaps that’ll change tonight—go get that makeup off.”

Those sitting and taking in the sights and sounds shifted nervously in their seats.  A man in the back row coughed.  It was a forced, short sound.  Eyes were turned his way and his face took on an expression of regret.  Turning back to the plasma monitor they resumed their vigil. The orange wigged head of Zack disappeared through the back gate of the fenced in yard and disappeared out of sight.  More of them shifted in their seats.  Anticipation rose and making the atmosphere around them become hot and tense.  They watched while the young man returned with a black makeup case and his face alit with a brilliant smile.

“You took long enough,” Tamara chided him.  “I was beginning to get lonely.”

“Sorry,” he apologized; I didn’t get a really good parking place.”

“Okay I understand.  Hell I had to park down the street because of being so late to the party myself.”

He sat back down on the short grass and opened the case, the lid obscuring the contents from her eyes.  With growing interest she watched him begin to swab his face with a round sponge.  Each swipe of his hand revealed more and more of his true skin color.

Okay so far so good, she thought.

The red nose was plucked off and gently placed in the black plastic container.  His skullcap was removed and the shortness of his buzz cut appeared.  Running a hand through it the jelled hairs stood up from their flattened out state.  More wiping and smearing occurred next until he was staring at her with a face slightly reddened from his actions.

Okay not only is he not bad looking he’s really hot!

“So what do you think?” Zack asked.

“Not bad,” she joked. 

“I’m hurt…”

She laughed.

“Just kidding—actually you’re very handsome.”

He smiled.  It was a boyish grin making her heart’s pace pick up and begin to thump happily against her ribs.  Prudence was pushed aside and she leaned forward feeling her breasts almost spill out of the black dress.  He bent at the waist.  Zack’s face eclipsed her view and they kissed.  A rush of warm turning hot emotions radiated out of the center of her chest.  Her breathing became rapid while their tongues danced.  He shuffled over quite gracefully despite the long clown shoes he was wearing.  Tamara put her arms around his neck and he slid his hands from the sides of her waist.  Zack’s warm palms caressed her lower back making lazy circles which made her body quiver with delightful anticipation.  She tasted beer.  Her nose filled with the strong cloying scent of the Axe body-wash he used.  The soft sounds of their kissing and the metallic creak of the swing filling her ears.

“So sexy,” he groaned, after breaking away from her lips.

“I’m usually not this aggressive,” she commented.

Tamara felt a blush rise on her cheeks and warm the skin beneath the makeup she wore. 

“So are you gonna suck my blood?” he joked.

“Maybe later,” she sighed provocatively.

His face loomed upward and they were kissing once more.  Hands began to roam all over her back and shoulders.  She ran her fingers through his short cropped hair ignoring the transfer of slippery gel onto them.  Their passions rose.  What started out as a simple kiss became more urgent, needy and fierce.  Mutual moans and groans filled Tamara’s ears.  He broke away from her and his expression seemed at bit embarrassed and shameful.  A hurt emotion wrinkled his smooth brow making her quickly wonder what the matter was.

Have I offended him?  Did I go too far? She thought.

“Sorry I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” he apologized.  “It’s just—well I didn’t think a girl like you would find a guy like me worthy of your time.”

“Hush,” she told him.  “Don’t stop now—and you’re not taking advantage of me, I want this.  I came to have fun and you’re so sweet and polite I didn’t expect to meet someone like you.  I really do like you.”

He leaned into her body crushing her breasts against her ribs.  Their lips locked for a third time and she began to unzip the ridiculously garish costume hiding the hunk beneath it.  She felt her fingers fumble due to the lack of visual aid.  Inch by inch it came undone but she stopped halfway when his hands slid around.  She let out a gasp of happy surprise when he began to cup her tits.

Oh yeah he’s so gentle but so firm, she sighed inwardly.  Ah! His hands are in my bra…oh yes pinch my nipples…yeah just like that.  How does he know what I want before I ask it?

She ran her hand down the smooth mounds of his chest and descended into the rolling ripples of his abs.  Scandalized only slightly Tamara discovered he was wearing nothing beneath the clown getup.  She leaned deeper into the embrace.  Her fingers began seeking the top of his underwear’s waistband.

The watchers shifted uncomfortably while the intimate scene played on in glorious, vivid color.  The room was filled with the soft cries of the aroused couple.  The man in the back coughed once more.  This time nobody dared to turn around to chastise him.  Deep in their minds they were all feeling a bothered by witnessing such a private act.  The older lady put her hand over her crimson mouth and against the paleness of her white glove her lips appeared even more scarlet.

Tamara moaned loudly.  Her tits had popped out of her dress and were freed from the pushup bra she had been wearing.  Zack’s face dropped away from hers leaving her mouth wetly disappointed and suddenly cold.  But the tentative touch of his mouth upon her right nipple sent shockwaves of intense pleasure into her beer saturated brain.  His tongue darted out to wet the protruding bud while his other hand passionately mauled her other breast.  She hugged his face closer to her chest.  Her hand was permitted to deepen its exploration of his costume.  Still she hadn’t discovered the top portion of his underwear.

Is he totally naked under all this? She wondered with a sigh.  I hope so!

Her left breast was released without warning.  Disappointment only lasted a few agonizing long seconds until it was placed on her left thigh.  Sliding up the naughty fishnet stockings she shivered with delight when it entered the darkness beneath her side split dress.  When his fingers brushed against her damp thong she hopped in place.  He laughed softly.

“Sensitive are you?” he muttered around her nipple.

“Been awhile since…,” she started to say but let her words fade away.

He switched his talented mouth from right to left and began suckling her other nipple.  The air surrounding her moistened aureole grew cool from his abandonment.   She felt a pout’s short lifespan be born and then die upon her lips. 

Oh god if he’s this good with my tits I can’t imagine what he’ll do to my poor pussy, she excitedly pondered.

A shiver of inflamed anticipation ran up her spine like someone dragging an ice cube along it.  Her thoughts were scattered when her thong was expertly bypassed and her pubic hair was stroked.  She moaned loudly.  Zack never looked up but kept to his tender oral ministrations.

“Oh yeah, baby,” she groaned.

“So hot, wet and ready,” he announced.

“Touch me.”

She felt his fingers move down, lingering only briefly at the very edge of her nether mane.  She bit her lip, the sharp pain spiking into her mind just before Zack pushed a padded tip of his digit against her swollen clit.  Tamara leaned forward shoving more of her breast into his mouth as she tried to increase the fondling pleasure.

“Interesting reaction,” he murmured.

Her breathing filled her ears.  It was a hot rush of wind bursting past her parted lips only to be replaced by her quick inhale.  Her heart thundered, her chest heaved and the cleft between her thighs became damp with hot juices.  He began outlining the edges of her labia.  Fluttering touches which traced her pussy but never enough to penetrate or satisfy her burning desire.  From the trembling top to the dew soaked bottom he continued to lightly stroke her.  She tried to wiggle, to force Zack to accidentally slip and sink his digit into her hot confines.  She groaned in frustration when her efforts didn’t produce the desired, badly needed result.  The caresses continued but only stoked the fire of her arousal.

I can’t take it…stop teasing me, she gasped to herself. 

She opened her mouth to beg, no demand he stop teasing her.  Before she could utter even a ghost of a word his finger swirled around her moist opening just before plunging delicately inside her slit.

Tamara’s thin wail of pleasure echoed briefly in the backyard.

More movement of the embarrassed and aroused audience became apparent.  The creak of leather cushions, the scrap of chair legs and the hushed grunts of discomfort began filling the room.  Yet their eyes were locked upon the viewscreen despite it only displaying the top of Zack’s head.  When the top of the man’s skull moved away it brazenly showed the naked firm roundness of Tamara’s quivering breasts.

“Oh my,” said one of the men.

He was immediately the recipient of fast, angry glances.  Slinking away by scooting down in his seat he was properly chastised.  The irritated faces turned back to the erotic scene and their expressions went from anger to slightly disgusted excitement.

Tamara’s questing digits finally found the short curls of Zack’s pubic hairs.  She twisted them around her fingers in a lazy manner until she grew quickly bored with this game.  She let out a quick hissing noise when her partner spread her wet labia and inserted another finger into her pussy.  She squirmed, wiggled and tried desperately to increase their probing to a deeper, more satisfying depth. 

Please more… come on I need this so badly, she whined to herself.  I can take more…just a bit deeper…oh yeah that’s right… touch me there, yes there.  Oh fuck! Oh fuck!

His palm came to rest against the soft mound of her cleft.  Tamara removed her hand from the inside of his costume.  The warmth of his palming hand made her lean back until her arms were stretched out and her hair dangled almost touching the grass.  She sucked in great sobbing breaths while he shifted his grip, his thumb grinding gently against the hooded button of her clitoris.  She planted her feet on the ground and her long heels sank deeply.  Lifting her quaking bottom up off the swing’s seat she spread her legs wider.  Zack rode with her movement.  His mouth and hands never gave up a single inch to her pulling away.  A grunt of approval eked out from around her captured nipple.

“Oh yes,” she moaned.  “Yeah baby rub me…get me off and I’ll do you.”

He mumbled something into her tit.  Her breath exploded from her loosely gaping mouth and she began sobbing without forming words. 

Oh fuck yeah, she thought excitedly, he’s rubbing my G-spot, my clit and still sucking my tit at the same time… damn what a lover!

The creaking noise of the swing began to sing a strange discordant accompaniment to her ragged gasps and deep throaty moans.  His breathing whistled out from around the loose seal of his mouth on her tit.  A powerful sensation began to grow exponentially from between her trembling thighs, vibrate all the way up her backbone and make her brain become overloaded from their intensity.

The crowd tried to keep their hands to themselves.  Fingers intertwined and knuckles turned bone white from clutching together so harshly.  No more coughs interrupted their viewing pleasure.  No additional commentary was necessary, the only constant sounds were the squeaking creaks of leather cushions and soft heated breaths.  All eyes were focused on the screen.  Lips were occasionally wetted by nervous flicks of darting tongues.  The erotic viewpoint played on…

It built to a rapid crescendo.  Between the alcohol, her long neglected body and the she found herself succumbing to the rushing tide of her rising orgasm.  Her legs began to shake violently, her arms quivered even more than her legs.  She could feel her ass dancing, flexing and shivering while he continued to thrust his fingers in and out.  The rubbing of her clit became more pronounced.  The mouth sucking at her left nipple switched to her right making her cry out in a stammering sob.

Oh fuck!  I’m g-going to cum… oh yes come on, come on, she inwardly chanted.

She exploded without warning.

Thundering up from her overly stimulated pussy to instantly transfer to every quivering extremity her climax roared through her.  Her head fell back giving her a perfect view of the stars above.  The twinkling lights far above her multiplied when her eyes crossed.  A ragged shriek tore past her lips and filled the night with the sounds of her ecstasy.  Not missing a beat Zack continued to pleasure her.  Deeper and faster his two fingers plunged into her depths.  The pad of his thumb ground against her clit producing wave after wave of delight to burst from her tormented loins.  Each jerk of her hips grew more powerful until she was forced to sit back down.  Her muscles unable to keep her aloft and permitted her to concentrate on her orgasm without distraction.  Her cries softened in volume.  Lessening from blubbering sobs of high pitched screams to low guttural grunts punctuated by each stroke of Zack’s fingers.  Finally she sat up, peeled her sore and cramped fingers from around the chain links and pushed Zack away.  Her body swung forward.  She watched her breasts heave up and down while she fought to return to a more normal breathing rhythm.  Her nipples gleamed with his spit, her pussy throbbed from the aftershocks of her pleasure and Tamara almost began crying from the intense reaction.

“Are you okay?” Zack asked softly.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, “I think I’ll be all right.”

She raised her head and brushed away the silky tresses of her hair which was obscuring his worried expression.  Reaching out she stroked his cheek.  Zack leaned into her caress and turned his face to kiss her palm.

“You are amazing,” she gasped.  “I can’t imagine how you could top that.”

He didn’t speak.  She sagged to the ground, her heels pulling out of the loose loam.  Struggling to keep her balance she watched him stand up.  Suddenly his crotch was in her face still hidden by the white costume with the blue, red and yellow polka dots.  Her fingers trembled when she reached for his zipper.  He took a backward step but her hand grabbed the cheap material halting his steps.

I’m going to have to really give him my best, she thought, I can’t let him get me off so easily and not do the same.  It’s a matter of pride after all!

The zipper made a metallic ripping sound when Tamara pulled it down to the very base of its toothy track.  She reached into the darkness of his costume and found him.

He was limp, soft and not aroused.

 Anger flashed into her brain as she spread the fabric to visually confirm what her fingers where telling her.  She stared into his eyes.  Zack was embarrassed and a bit angry and the two emotions played across his handsome features without a true winner being declared.

“What the fuck?” she snarled.  “How can you be limp?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely.  “I thought this time would be different… I really think you’re hot but…”

“Are you a fag?  What the fuck is wrong with you Zack?  You make me cum so hard I nearly faint but then show no interest at all!”

“I don’t know why… I have this problem…”

She cut him off in mid-sentence with a hot reply.

“Fucking homo!  What do you think you were doing?  Hoping you could force yourself straight by making out with me?” she spat out.

“No it’s not like that,” he said, backing up.

She watched his hand go behind his back and without warning grabbed his arms by the elbows.  Tamara began shaking him.

“I should’ve known,” she cursed loudly.  “Every hot guy is either a queer or a bastard.  Sometimes I think I just ought to turn gay so I can get laid more often.”

Zack yanked his arm out of her grip.  His right hand flashed across her vision and a hot burning sensation erupted under her chin.  The burning line stretched from ear to ear.  She began coughing, gagging and struggling for air.  Blood sprayed out of her lips and clouded her vision momentarily.  She tried to back up but her body began to weaken and her traitorous heels sank deep into the turf.  Her hands tried to stop the hot scarlet flow while a coldness, from both her fear and loss of blood chilled her limbs.

W-what the fuck?  Why did he do t-that? She gasped in her mind.

“You have to understand I can’t help myself,” he stated in a pleading voice.  “I’ve tried and tried but no matter who I’m with I just can’t get it up… not with a live girl anyway.”

She fell suddenly.  Her vision was once more filled with the blackness of the night and the stars above.  His face came into view as he stepped around her left side.  He was clutching a long thin knife in his hand.  She watched her blood drip off the sharp tip.

“I’m sorry, really I am,” Zack stated softly.  “But this is how it has to be.  There’s no more denying it.  You are very beautiful Tamara and I’m going to enjoy our time together for the rest of my life.  For as long as it lasts.”

The watchers sat in stunned silence.  No longer did they shift in their seats or husk out hot breaths.  The violently swift attack had ripped out the very soul out of those staring at the thirty-six inch screen.  The older woman began softly sobbing.  Her hitching cries were silently shared by all present and they let her vocalize the horror they all felt.  They watched as the video feed continued on.  The sound was muted making every noise sound like it was occurring underwater.  Zack picking up the body while Tamara’s dying brain recorded all his efforts.  She was set beside the makeup case and her dead eyes were accidentally fixated on him while he reapplied his makeup.  The red nose was put back on.  The case was snapped shut.  Once again her body was picked up and carried but this time her murderer was walking out the back gate.  In seconds she was gently laid into the trunk of Zack’s car.  Just before the lid was shut the images ceased playing.  The cold yet sorrowful face of the killer was frozen as Tamara’s brain stopped taking in everything. 

The lights came back on. The men and women sitting in the double rows blinked and rubbed at the shooting pains from the sudden illumination.  They watched as a man stepped up in front of the screen.  His face was a mask of anger.

“You have just seen the recovered memories of Tamara Collins and witnessed the last hours of her life,” the prosecuting attorney stated. 

He pointed to the despondent man sitting in an orange prison jumpsuit the same shade as the wig he wore on that fateful night.  His face was lowered and he was hiding his eyes from the irate stares of the jury.

“Forensic evidence has concluded that Zachary Richards did, with full awareness of the illegality of his actions, take home Tamara Collins’ corpse and sexually abused it for seven days.  Even when he was apprehended by the police, during a routine traffic stop he did willfully cling to it until he was subdued by pepper spray and handcuffs.”

A low grown issued from the throats of every person in the jury box and the somewhat remorseful young man began sobbing uncontrollably.  His shoulders shook up and down but he still didn’t raise his gaze to meet his peers.

“I ask you to take everything you have seen which was recovered from Tamara’s memories by the latest forensic technology,” the lawyer stated.  “The cold blooded murder and the events up until poor Tamara’s brain finally died cannot be refuted.  That man over there did willingly cut a young woman down in the prime of her life.  Clemency is not an option.  The State of California seeks the death penalty for such a brutal crime and the deplorable acts that followed.  We will provide expert testimony to how these images, sounds and thoughts were retrieved from the victim’s deceased brain.  Doctor Emil Lorenzo from MIT will show you without a doubt this evidence is beyond reproach.  The Memory Download Software was developed in his laboratory and fully funded by the Justice Department.  From the grave Tamara Collins has given testimony of the events of that night.  I know with all you have seen that you will see to it Zachary Richards will never commit either murder or necrophilia again.  I have full confidence that you the jury will find the defendant guilty on all charges.”

 

Make Me Laugh

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is part 8 in the series of goofy pictures from the Internet which I’ve taken and written a story about.  The following tale contains adult language, humor and sexual situations.  If you are below the age of eighteen LEAVE NOW!  Also don’t forget to enjoy the picture at the end of the story.

            I just finished my set at the comedy club and left them laughing.  This was my first time in Niles Ohio and my manager didn’t disappoint when he said the crowds here were very friendly.  Walking backstage I toweled off my face and neck and decided a drink was in order to celebrate.  The owner came in and patted me on the shoulder.

            “Nice job kid,” Roger Hammersmith told me. “Great set, ya killed ‘em.”

            “Thanks Roger,” I smiled.

            He left with a chuckle and I looked into the mirror.  The wonderful feeling of making so many people laugh, smile and enjoy themselves was the reason I got into this business.  Plus it beats working for a living. 

            Now for that drink.

            Walking through the employee’s entrance into the back room I winked at one of the waitresses, a cute little thing named Cindy who had been eyeing me on stage.  I made my way to the bar and sat down.

            “What will ya have?” the bartender asked.

            “A seven and seven,” I answered.

            “Coming right up.”

            Looking around I noted that Charlie Horn was on the stage cracking jokes and keeping the atmosphere I had left in high gear.  When I turned around, that’s when I saw her.  She was a hot blonde with a killer body.  She sat on her barstool wearing a tight pair of blue jeans and a low cut top displaying enough cleavage to get my motor running.  Bored and a bit sad she was swirling an umbrella in some reddish-orange tropical drink. 

            “Here ya go,” the man behind the bar said, “it’s on the house.”

            “Thanks,” I replied.  “By the way, who’s the hottie at the end of the bar?”

            “Her?  That’s Stephanie she’s here every Friday night.”

            “Oh?  Single?”

            “Yeah but don’t bother.”

            “Why is she gay?”

            “No she’s… impossible.”

            I had to admit the tone of his voice and the word impossible made me extremely curious.  How could a woman be impossible?

            “Why would you call her that?”

            “Look Dave,” he sighed.  “She comes here every week and never laughs once.  I’ve watched a dozen comedians try to get her to at least giggle but it never works.  Oh she’s not against some no-strings-attached sex but you’ll regret it.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah man, take my advice and ask Cindy out, she’s been giving you the green light since you took the stage.”

            “Thanks for the advice,” I remarked.

            Now I like a challenge and I knew Cindy wasn’t going to give me that.  She’d coo and giggle at everything I say but the chick at the end of the bar was more intriguing.  Picking up my drink I sauntered over to introduce myself.

            “Hello,” I began.  “My name’s Dave Howard and I couldn’t help but notice you’re sitting here all alone.  Would you like some company?”

            “Sure why not,” she said in a blasé tone.

            “What’s your name?”

            “Stephanie Doogan.”

            “Well Stephanie, did you like my set?”

            “It was okay.  Look I saw the bartender speaking to you when you spotted me and he’s probably already warned you about me.  So unless you can make me laugh I’m really not interested in conversation.”

            “So you didn’t find my routine funny?”

            “It wasn’t bad, but I didn’t laugh.”

            I took a sip of my drink and smiled.

            “I bet I can make you laugh.”

            “I doubt it.”

            She sat there pouting but also wearing an expression of utter disbelief on her beautiful face.  It was like waving a red cape at a bull, it only made me want to charge forward with my daring plan.

            “I’ll make you a bet,” I countered. “If we have a few more drinks and go back to my hotel room I’ll show you something that’ll crack you up.”

            “That’s a lousy pick up line you’ve got there Dave,” she snorted.

            “Sorry it’s the best I can do.  So what do ya say?”

            For a moment I thought she was going to shoot me down.  But something in her eyes, a spark of amusement tainted with curiosity made her smile faintly.  She laid a warm palm on my arm and the shiver it sent through my body made the ice in my drink rattle.

            “Okay you’re kinda hot and I’m bored so let’s just go back to your place and do it.  But I’m going to warn you this is a one-time thing.  Don’t worry about coming back here and getting a second helping because it isn’t going to happen.”

            “Fair enough.”

            Inwardly I smiled because I knew I had her.  Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought her back.  Arm in arm we left the club with Earl the bartender shaking his head and looking at the ceiling.   I could almost hear him say, “There goes another fool.”

****

            Stephanie led me to her car, a brand new cherry red Camaro.  I slid in beside her and she started it up.  She didn’t speak even after I attempted to engage her in conversation.  Sensing she didn’t want to talk, I kept quiet and just told her where I was staying.  The streets were busy and thick with traffic.  People out enjoying the start of the weekend, spending their hard earned money on having fun.  Stephanie, on the other hand just seemed lonely and depressed.  The lights of the cars passing on the other side washed across her face glaringly exposing her expression for the agony within.  I took a mental oath this woman would be howling with laughter or I’d quit the business and go back to college just like my parents’ had constantly begged me to do.  We pulled into the Best Western and got out of the car.

            “This way,” I said.

            She didn’t speak, just aimed the key ring at the car and pressed a button.  The Camaro’s lights and horn went off instant and briefly letting her know it was locked.

            “This better be worth it,” she sighed.

            “Oh I can promise you’ll never forget this night,” I remarked with a smile.

            We started into the hotel.

            “I’ve been going to the Funny Farm for two years now,” she began.  “All sorts of comics, famous or otherwise have tried to make me chuckle, but all have failed.  Oh I’ve gone back to their rooms, just a few mind you, but still I end up leaving without laughing or sex.”

            “Do you find anything funny?” I queried.

            “I have a strange sense of humor, granted.  But I’m afraid there’s something very wrong with me.  I can’t find anything funny.  It’s sort of taken over my life.”

            “Such a gorgeous woman shouldn’t go through life this way.”

            “I am what I am.  At least you’re very sexy and I could really use some male company tonight, it’ll take my mind off my problems.  I’m glad you came down to talk to me even after the bartender warned you off.  But I’m afraid it’ll just be a lot of talking.”

            We reached my room and I unlocked the door.  Flicking on the lights we entered the rented flat.  I turned on the radio I bring with me everywhere.  Finding a soft rock station I let the music swirl around the room.  Walking into the small refrigerator I called out to her.

            “I have some wine, would you like some?” I asked.

            “Sure,” she replied.

            I poured a pair of glasses of red wine and walked into the room to see her sitting on the bed.  The bright yellow blanket contrasted against her faded blue jeans and crimson top creating a picture of erotic delightfulness. 

            “Here you go,” I said, handing her the glass.

            “Thanks.”

            I sat beside her while Stephanie took a sip of wine.  Reaching up in a bold fashion I stroked her shoulder, she leaned into my touch.  Setting the glass on the nightstand she took a deep breath, almost as if she was preparing herself for a disappointment.  I didn’t give her time to ponder her dark thoughts, I kissed her.

            Her lips were soft, warm and inviting.  Tasting of the wine her tongue sliding against mine she returned the kiss.  I took her into my arms.  She ran her hands over my back and shoulders caressing, touching and warming my skin.  The kiss deepened and became more passionate.  Without warning she ended it and cleared her throat in a dainty manner.

            “Make me feel something,” she muttered.  “It’s been so long since I’ve been happy.”

            I didn’t know what to say.  The only thing I could think of was to resume the lip-lock with as much passion I could muster.  It must’ve worked because she moaned into my mouth.

            I felt her unbutton my shirt and run a hand across my chest, brushing my nipples and ruffling the soft hairs on my pectorals.  My fingers quickly gathered up the shirt tucked into her jeans and tugged with urgency.  Breaking off the kiss she permitted me to pull it over her head.  I tossed it on the floor.  Her bra was hot scarlet, cupping the small but firm breasts within it and creating a delightful crease between each beautiful sphere.  Running my tongue across the tops of those globes she sighed contently.  I stood up and helped her to her feet her hands quickly undid my belt, button and zipper to my pants.  Tugging off my trousers she paused momentarily to smile at my white briefs.  While she was staring I eased the tight jeans off her hips exposing a hot red thong, the same alluring shade as her bra.  I gasped at her beauty.  Stephanie’s body was a model of perfection, delight and quite arousing.

            “You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

            “Thank you,” she answered.

            She reached over and tugged down my briefs, her eyes going wide with surprise.  At that moment a burst of giggling started.  Collapsing to her knees she pointed at my groin and covered her mouth with her other hand.  The soft laughter soon grew louder and soon she wasn’t able to contain herself. 

            “O-oh my god!” she shrieked.  “W-what the hell is that?!”

            Stephanie’s shoulders bobbed up and down making her breasts wiggle in a sensual manner.  Her eyes were filled with happy tears as she continued to laugh uncontrollably.  Reduced to a giggling, quivering delight of womanly perfection she was soon rolling on the floor howling.  Every time she recovered she’d catch sight of my crotch and it would start all over again.  I stood there mesmerized at her antics while she squirmed on the floor like some deranged monkey at the zoo.

            “You find that funny?” I asked.

            She couldn’t answer; her breath was stolen from her.

            “You think my cock is hysterical, don’t you!” I demanded.

            “O-oh… god… I-I can’t believe… w-what the fuck h-happened to your dick!” she roared in laughter.

            “I was born this way.”

            She covered her mouth with both hands fighting the hilarity with all her being.  She moved up to a kneeling position and took a long look at my semi-erect shaft.

            The small twin moles on either side the oversized tip and the crooked opening of end of my penis made it appear like a smirking face.  My family was too poor to have the corrective surgery to repair the birth defect so I just learned to live with it.  Every sexual encounter after my first was done in the dark so the woman I was with didn’t see my silly looking member.

            “I-I can’t believe it!  That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever saw in my life!” she wailed merrily.

            “I told you I could make you laugh,” I smiled.

            “F-fuck me! Fuck me with your goofy cock, Dave!”

            “It will be my pleasure.”

            And we did exactly that for five hours.

****

            Stephanie and I were married a year later and we’ve been happier than anyone has a right to be.  The emotional change she went through has made her less morose and lighthearted.  She travels with me on my comedy tour and we’re never apart.  All because of my abnormal and silly looking cock.  My mother told me once I’d find the perfect woman, but I doubt she had any inkling of why I would.  When guys ask how the hell I got so lucky to marry a gorgeous creature like Stephanie I have only one reply.

            “I know how to make her laugh,” I grin mysteriously.