Erotic Fiction: The Party

28 11 2009

I tend to find myself to be the romantic type. So I decided to delve into the strange world of erotic fiction. Enjoy!

I walked into my friend’s party. It was a nice sized affair, I’d say about 20 people were mingling about. I had been alone for a while so I was looking around for a pretty young lady to talk to. It was a lame party and everyone looked sad. It was probably because there was no music playing. Music always gets a party going.

I scanned the room and decided I was going to only stay a little while until I saw her! She was gorgeous in every sense of the word. She had long black hair, pale skin, tall but average sized body (I’m not one for ultra-skinny girls), prosthetic left leg, crystal blue eyes, one finger too many on her right hand and an award winning smile with all her teeth!

My eyes caught her one eye, the other was looking the other way and I sauntered on over. I introduced myself meekly.

“Oh, HI THERE! My name is BILL!” I whispered and screamed. I have a hard time controlling the sound of my voice.

“Uhm, hi my name is Tina.” She said half afraid and was clutching her purse.

“IT’S okay. I can’t HELP the way I TALK! So WHAT brings you HERE tonight?”

“Ah, I came with my friend Donna, she knows Steve. Uhm, if you don’t mind I need to go to the bathroom. I have to adjust my leg.” I could sense the shiver of passion in her voice. She then looked at me deep into my eyes and crinkled her nose in such a cute way I was overjoyed at the cuteness of her face.

“Why do I smell shit or no wait, bad body odor? Maybe it is shit . . . ?” Tina said slightly gagging.

“Oh, THAT would be ME! I ran out of TOILET paper the other DAY! I can’t AFFORD to buy ANYmore until TUESDAY!” I blurted and tried not to embarrasses myself in front of this goddess.

“Wow, that is truly disgusting. Don’t you shower at all? Oh fuck, I’m going to be ill.” She said between dry heaves.

“NO I don’t SHOWER before a GATHERING! I read my NATURAL body odor IS attractive to WOMEN. Like what ANIMALS give OFF when they ARE in heat.”

Tina looked at me, mouth agape and her left eye trying to look at me while the other looked dead ahead into my very soul.

“You are fucking insane. Please leave me alone now.” Tina said with such regret in her voice I wanted to take her in my arms right then and there.

“I AM really a NICE guy. I LIVE with MY mom and SHE said I’M the coolest GUY in town.” I said slightly boastfully but modest. Mother always dotes on me in front of her bridge club.

“No, really, Bill, Jim, whatever the fuck your name is, please leave me alone. Actually, if you could leave, that would be great. You’re starting to offend the guests now.” My angel from heaven said.

“Can we GO out SOMEtime? I have an AWESOME petri DISH collection of SPORES!” I said knowing I had totally won her over.

“No. Fuck. Off.” Tina said tearfully. I know it was hard for her but she knew we could never be together no matter how much our loins longed for each other. She was either crying or my natural odor was so powerful to her that she couldn’t bear not having me right then and there. She had promptly thrown a glass of vodka in my face. I knew she couldn’t stand knowing that my scent would attract another, so she was masking it.

She limped away and fell down, her fake leg gave out and she was pulled away by her friend. I stood there, dripping with my love’s drink all over me. I stood there, heartbroken but at ease knowing that we have shared the most amazing 2 minutes ever lived. I would have savored the moment longer until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw a very large man glaring at me with bulged neck veins and a red face.

“DUDE! Who the HELL are you?” He screamed at me. I knew he was jealous of Tina’s love for me.

“I’m BILL! Pleased to MEET you!” I said smugly, knowing I had Tina and he had no shot in hell.

“Get the hell out of here!! This is a goddamn funeral service!” The man screamed at me again.

“OH! Then WHY was SHE drinking? Isn’t THIS a PARTY?” I said accusingly. How dare he questioned me.

“It was water you dumbass! I don’t know who you are but you just walked in a fucking funeral for my brother, Steve. Get the fuck out of here!”

He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me out the door. I fell hard and then stood up and brushed myself off. I looked at Tina through the window and she was shaking her head in disbelief. I stood there and thought deep and hard. And then I had the one thought that made me decide that Tina’s love for me would not last.

I would totally never fuck a gimp.





Who Punched the Duck?

19 11 2009

This is an experiment. I attempted to write a story without thinking of any general plot device and such. I just wrote as it came to me only to stop for misspelled words and such. Enjoy.

“Who punched the duck?” she asked while sipping on a diet soda. She was quite large and believed that diet soda would balance out all the carbs and fat that were straining themselves through her system.

“Hell if I know! I was in the other room at the time!” said her brother who was a thin lad with dark eyes that seemed as dead as a lizards.

“Someone punched the duck and it’s really starting to piss me off!” she said between heavy breaths. (I told you she was large.)

Someone indeed punched the duck. It was her duck, her name was Sammy and her duck’s name was Mr. Tobias. A strange name but she felt it was creative. Her brother’s name was Jim and he didn’t care for Sammy or her duck all that much. She kept it under her arm at all times and the duck was content under her mounds of flesh. It would let out little quacks as it’s head bobbed with each one. The duck was fine from the punch but it still made Sammy mad to no end. She still accused Jim of punching the duck because she knew how much she despised Mr. Tobias.

“I keep telling you, I did not punch that damn duck!” Jim said with his eyes still dead as charred wood but you could see his veins bulge a bit in his scrawny neck. He never hated the duck from the beginning. In fact, he felt it was cute and the way Mr. Tobias walked made him chuckle. Then Sammy became overly possessive of Mr. Tobias and would tell Jim to go scratch anytime he went to pet him or even talk to him. The original plan for Mr. Tobias was for Sammy to eat him. She wasn’t a cruel person, she just wanted to see if she could raise a animal and eat it like they do on farms. She thinks she saw it on t.v. once, but it could have been a dream.

The final straw for Jim came when Mr. Tobias chased Jim around the yard and it bit him on the Achilles’ heel. It hurt like hell and left a mark. Jim felt angry towards the duck after the incident even though he really knew that being coddled by Sammy all the time made Mr. Tobias sort of territorial. All Jim did was try to give Mr. Tobias a cracker when Sammy was sleeping on her hammock in the backyard. No one dared go near Sammy when she napped on her hammock. After she gorged herself on Susie-Q’ and Ding Dongs, she would suffer a sugar crash and sleep the afternoon away. And if anyone as much muttered a word outside, there would be hell to pay. Mr. Tobias would keep watch like some sort of feathered watch dog. He would charge after anyone flapping his wings and quacking away until the intruder left them alone. It was a beautiful relationship between woman and fowl.

“I’m not going to leave your room until you admit you punched the duck!” she started to get loud and this made Jim nervous. Anytime she felt he did her wrong she would plop, literally, herself down on his floor and wait until he admitted fault. And Jim could not have done anything at all, he just wanted her out of his room.

And so she sat and stared at him with her big brown eyes that just grated on his nerves. All the while she was munching on chips and noisily drinking her diet soda. The sound of someone else eating made Jim’s skin crawl and Sammy knew it would instantly make him confess to punching Mr. Tobias.

“Sammy, I swear I did not punch the duck! I was in the other room washing a dish, just one dish, when I heard you wailing and flailing about Mr. Tobias being dead.” Jim stated tiredly.

The incident was one of the ages, as they like to say. Jim was indeed washing a dish, just one and he heard Sammy shrilling at the top of her lungs. She stormed into the kitchen wailing and flailing about with her flabby arms flapping in the wind like wings that were never meant to fly. She started to pound on his back with her hambone sized fist on his Xylophone-like ribs. He waved his arms at her like he was shooing the world’s largest fly. She stopped briefly to only charge at him again.

“Whoa! What the hell is wrong with you!?” Jim yelled before she tackled him into the wall.

“You killed Mr. Tobias! You punched him!” Sammy screamed like a banshee on speed.

“I did NOT punch that damn duck! I was here washing this dish!” Jim said and held up the soaking wet dish.

And it had been going back and forth since then. They had been at it for close to two hours with her following him through the house  yelling at him between bites of food.

“Sammy, please get up and leave now!” Jim said through gritted teeth.

“NO! Not until you tell me that you punched my duck!” Sammy yelled.

“Look, the bastard isn’t dead. He was knocked out cold, he is fine, look outside yourself!” he waved his arm at the window.

“I know he is fine! I just want you to admit your crime against nature!” Sammy sharply said.

“Cri-crime against nature? Have you gone mad? I did not punch the stupid duck! How many times do I have to tell you this before it gets through your flabby head?” Jim yelled and then quickly regretted that “flabby head” comment.

Sammy shot up as fast as she could and charged at Jim like she had before. Jim side-stepped to the side and she charged right into the wall. She bounced off the wall and landed on her back like a turtle and just laid there.

“Sammy, you okay? Will you knock this off now?” Jim said somewhat sympathetically

“Fine. Okay, you didn’t punch Mr. Tobias. Can you help me up?” Sammy said

Jim helped her up as best he could and she looked at him with annoyance in her eyes.

“Well, who punched the duck?” Sammy said

“I don’t know. Didn’t you take him out on your daily walk? How the hell could I have punched him if he was with you?” Jim said. In the back of his head he was flabbergasted that she actually took walks everyday and still didn’t lose any weight.

“Ugh, fine. Okay, I admit it. I know you didn’t punch the duck. I was just angry after the walk and I punched Mr. Tobias because he nipped me and I got mad.” Sammy said with much guilt.

“Whoa! YOU punched the duck and tried the peg it on me? What is wrong with you!?” Jim said, his face was flushed.

“Ugh, Jim. I’m fat, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it. I have no self-esteem and I was taking it out on you and the duck because I couldn’t defend myself from this jerk that saw me walk with the duck.” Sammy said with tears in her eyes.

“What happened then? What would make you that mad that you punched your duck?” Jim said half-heartedly.

“Well, this is hard Jim. I was walking with Mr. Tobias under my arm, like I do. And that dirty old bastard Steve Fields was walking his mangy mutt. He looked at me and waved. So, I waved back to him and just kept walking. He then yells out, “Hey! Where’d ya get that pig?” I snapped back, “It’s not a pig, it’s a duck!” and you know what that mean old bastard said to me? He said, “I was talking to the duck.”