Stuffing Day (short story)

Miranda had stuffed the turkey, now Lester was stuffing her, right on the frigid marble counter. Miranda arched her back, flawless, Barbie-pink manicured fingers scratching his shoulders. Doll, that’s what I am, a fuck doll. She didn’t like the thought though. No, I’m a doll that’s so perfect, everyone wants to play with it, that’s all.

Why was she thinking about this anyways? Lester’s cock was ramming her sensationally. But she was bored with Lester. Lester, who’d reviewed every play of the game during the party. Boring Lester.

Miranda twisted, Lester’s cock popping out, all slick and hard. This was followed by grunting and an awkward attempt to get it back in, until he finally gathered that she was trying to escape.

“What’d I do?”

What didn’t you do? Miranda buttoned her blouse, padding through the cozy hall, almost knocking into a table littered with semi-filled wine glasses, abandoned and uneven. Once outside she couldn’t get her coat buttoned fast enough, nipples involuntarily peaking.

Seth was at the end of the walk, looking dazed. Here’s one I might enjoy. Miranda plucked his sleeve. “Wanna go drinking?”

He looked like he might hurl, nodding anyways.

Finally, something to be thankful for.

 

 

 

Like this two hundred word story? Check in tomorrow for its companion ‘Black Friday’!

2 thoughts on “Stuffing Day (short story)

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