11 comments/ 21069 views/ 4 favorites Richard Longrod, This Is Your Life! By: bluefox07 EDITOR: Miriam Belle CREATIVE CONSULTANTS: Miriam Belle, John Cobb AUTHOR'S NOTE: -"This is, without a doubt, the weirdest story I have ever put to paper. I did my best with the Spanish parts of the dialogue, so please forgive me if I got it wrong ... Enjoy!" *** Richard lay in bed with his wife Fanny. It was another morning in their simple, every day lives. As usual, Richard was wearing his black silk boxers, his trim muscular body tight even in a state of relaxation. His broad muscular pectorals were firm and like granite. He looked over at his wife and tried to readjust his boxers. The long, thick penis resting against his inner thigh was both tingling and bothersome for him. The bulbous head peeked out from beneath the hem of the shorts like a snub-nosed python, ready for a new day of hunting. "Sweetie?" he asked quietly. "Yes?" Fanny yawned and rolled over to face him. Her full 44 FF breasts crested in the motion and then fell to rest on Richard's right arm and part of his chest. The huge tits were smooth and milky white, every so often a faint blue vein visible under the skin. Richard looked down at the two long, thick nipples protruding out at least an inch from her saucer sized areolas. Fanny looked at him, her hand resting on her naked hip. "Do you think he'll give us a break today?" Fanny sighed and slowly sat up, her hair already silky and shiny, the dark shoulder length locks full of as much bounce as her impressive bust line. She licked her cherry red lips and shrugged, "Well, ever since he put us here, it's been every day." Richard sat up a little too quickly and sat on his penis. He winced, his mouth open in a silent "o" of private pain. He blinked, "I mean, it's been two years now and all he does is write us the same bull shit stories." "I know," Fanny kissed him on the cheek and smiled, "But it could be worse." "How could this be worse?" Richard asked, his dark handsome features pinched into a sexy scowl. "He could have written us as mass murderers or talking dogs?" Fanny looked at the ceiling thoughtfully as she cupped her massive tits and massaged them gently. "Yeah," Richard said, "And he could have written us as intelligent human beings too! But no, I'm the cliché with a 12-inch dick and the perfect Olympian body. I have no character motivation. I have no personality quirks!" "Yes you do," Fanny reassured him as she rubbed her right nipple back and forth between her thumb and forefinger. "I don't even have a last name, Fanny!" "Sure you do." "What is it then?" Fanny closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back over their many stories. "We have to have the same last name, Fanny," he said flatly. After a moment, she said, "Oh wait. What was that one story where you had to fuck the three women in the Toys 'R' Us bathroom?" "I think it was 'Adult Toy Store Boogaloo,'" Richard groaned. "Wasn't that the story where he gave you the last name 'Longrod'?" Richard pursed his lips. "Richard Longrod?" "I think it's cute," she smiled. "Dick Longrod." He looked at her, "And you're Fanny Luhvsgood-Longrod?" "I didn't want to lose my maiden name." Fanny nodded and began applying baby oil to her toned body, starting with her breasts. She dribbled the oil over her mounds and then began slowly rubbing it in with her open palms. The clear liquid rolled down her curves in small streams to her clean-shaven pussy where it collected in her slit and then dribbled down to her ass. "Fanny, I can't do this today," Richard stood up, being careful not to pull on his cock again, "It's too much, okay?" "We don't have much choice," she rubbed the oil onto her thighs, spreading her legs out as her massive globes hung down, shining and glistening, "Woo, these are kinda heavy. I think my tits have gotten bigger." "I can't," he said, "I won't. I'll lodge a protest!" "A protest with who?" "When he calls, I'm going to complain," Richard snapped his fingers and went to the closet. He slid the door open and found the space empty. He sighed, "Why can't he just write me a regular wardrobe?" "Just be patient," Fanny stood up, arching her back and twisting to her side to get the oil on her shapely round buttocks. She almost lost her balance as her breasts pulled her forward. She giggled and righted herself. Her tanned skin was without tan lines as she rubbed the oil in, small moans of pleasure escaping her pouty lips. She looked at him and smiled a sexy little grin. "You do this every morning," Richard exclaimed, "Why the baby oil?" "It's sexy." "Baby face it. We are just delivery systems for a huge cock and ridiculously large tits." Fanny pointed at him, "I don't hear you complain when the story calls for a tit-fucking sequence now do I?" "Well no," he admitted, "But can't we have a story with a plot? Just once, a good erotic horror piece or some kind of mind control story?" "That would be nice," Fanny's eyes lit up as she opened the bedroom window and let the morning light pour in. It cascaded over her sexy body, reflecting off the oil and giving the two gardeners in the front yard a hell of a show. She winked at them and continued her application of the oil. She said, "I've always wanted to be in a vampire story." "The point here is," Richard rubbed his eyes, "I'm the guy who has to sit with the other characters at lunch and listen to them talk about their incredible stories. Every day they have something new and exciting, adventure and intrigue. Hell, I'd even take domestic melodrama, Fanny!" "We're all characters on the same site," Fanny began pawing through her dresser drawer. It was filled with halter-tops, short skirts and lingerie. She held up one of the halter-tops, a red one with polka dots. She draped it against her body, "Would this look okay today?" "How come you get a wardrobe?" Richard gaped. "Well, he thinks about what I'm wearing more than he does you," she said, "He is a guy after all." The phone rang and Richard ran over to it, ready to give the so-called writer a piece of his mind. "Hello?" "Richard, hello. How are you this morning?" "It's the asshole writer," Richard cupped his hand over the phone, his face contorted in a grimace of pain, and then to his boss, "Well sir, to be honest I'm not v-" "Good good, glad to here it. Listen, is Fanny with you?" Richard sighed. "Yes sir." "Good," the writer said cheerfully, "Now I have a new story for you and this one is a real departure for you and Fanny I think." Richard felt a spark of hope in his powerful chest. "Really?" "Yes really. After thirty stories of you and Fanny exploring every possible permutation of every sexual fetish imaginable, except child porn..." Richard shivered, liking the writer less and less. "... I've decided that our next adventure should have more of a story to it." Richard nodded. "You know I agree. And I had a few ideas-" "Right baby right," the writer cut in, "Look in your closet. You'll find the script and the clothes you'll need. I think this one will be the big time, Richie. Think big." 'One of us does already,' Richard looked down at the trouser snake hanging out the bottom of his shorts. "Okay then," Richard said, "But can we at least-" "No time baby, no time," the writer said quickly, "I'm in the Survivor Contest and I have thirteen other stories to finish today." "But-" "This one is for nude day, and I think it's gonna be great." "But I-" "Cool baby," he said and the line went dead. Richard opened the closet and found two scripts on the top shelf, along with a smart looking business suit and dress shoes. He grabbed the scripts and took them into the bedroom. Fanny had just slipped into her daisy duke shorts and a blue tank top that barely contained her huge tits. Her large nipples poked out the thin material in small peaks that did nothing but beckon the unsuspecting eye. Her thick, lustrous hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Here," Richard handed her the script and then picked up his own and began thumbing through it. "The title is 'Have Cum, Will Travel,"" Fanny smiled to herself, "I guess that's cute." "Yeah," Richard snorted, "Right up there with 'Bone-nanza' and 'McClit-tock!'" "I'm gardening nude today," she read the first page, "And I innocently catch the eyes of two lusty, horny Mexican gardeners..." Richard sighed. Fanny looked out the window and smiled at the two men mowing her lawn. She waved and smiled, "Hi Jose! Hello-" she glanced down at the script, "-Miguel!" From the backyard came the distant reply, "¡Hola señora Longrod! ¡Miramos adelante a doblarte sobre la capilla de nuestro carro y la cogida la mierda viva fuera de ti en varias ocasiones de maneras tu marido estúpido, blanco podría soñar solamente con!" "What did he say?" Richard asked. "You boys don't work too hard!" Fanny called, giving her soon-to-be fuck buddies an incredible view, and then to Richard, "I have no idea." "Tus pechos son humongous, como las sandías mi abuela criada cuando era un pequeño muchacho. Quisiera aspirar en tus entrerroscas, puse mi martillo entre tus tits y la cogida ellos hasta I cum por todas partes ti, tú perra estúpida," came another shout, followed by laughter. "I'll have lemonade later!" "¡Tu marido coge vacas y los vestidos dyslexic de la manera de una prostitute masculina!" "Okay then," she smiled, waved and closed the window, "Such nice immigrant workers." "Great," Richard flipped through the dangerously thin script, "Now we're into racial slurs and bias. Thank you so much, Mr. Writer sir." "I was wondering why those guys were out there today..." "You're going to have a three-way with those guys?" Richard exclaimed and pointed to the scene in question, "You're my wife! Don't vows mean anything to this guy?" "This coming from the man who fucked my mother and sister three stories ago for a Christmas submission?" Fanny raised a brow. "Like I could help it," Richard shot back, "He wrote that scene, not me." "And you hated every minute of it, especially when mom and sis double blew your cock?" "I am so fucked," Richard moaned, his eyes glued to the script. "Why?" "I have sex with four women at work today," Richard said and tossed the script down. "And you're complaining?" He went to the closet and started getting dressed. As he put the white dress shirt on he mumbled to himself, "Great. Now I get to sit around the lunch table again and talk about how all I did was bang a bunch of background characters whilst advancing a plot no more substantive than an episode of 'Baywatch.' Everyone else is fighting off aliens, or killing monsters or dealing with social issues of relevance but me? I'm just fucking around..." Fanny opened her bottom drawer open and reached inside. She pulled out two long dildos, one at least a foot long and the other small, but much thicker. She asked, "Okay, I have to be on the patio naked later on this morning. Which dildo should I be masturbating with? The Flesh Pole or the Tooth Chipper?" "Why would you be naked on the patio and masturbating in plain view with a dildo? What's the logic to that?" "Well," she laughed incredulously, "Because Julio and Mario need a way to segue into our group sex, Richard." "Use the foot long," he rolled his eyes and tightened his tie. "It stretches my pussy out too much," she admired the mammoth phallic toy and licked her lips hungrily. "Whatever happened to subtly? To nuance and the slow build of sexual tension? There's gotta be a reason for us to be nude today." Fanny ignored him, running her fingers over the large rubbery dildo. As he brushed his teeth, Richard talked to his reflection through a mouthful of toothpaste, "You wanna talk about subtlety? This dickhead's stories have all the subtlety of an Annie Sprinkle performance piece..." "When are you going to be home tonight?" Fanny called. "Does it matter?" "Kind of," she replied, "I mean, you're supposed to walk in on me and the gardeners towards the end of the third act." "And this spurs me to what?" Richard finished putting his clothes on, slipped into his comfy work shoes and grabbed his briefcase, "Another torrid affair?" "I guess so," she eyed the last page as she sat on the edge of the bed, "The ending is open for another chapter." "You wanna know what this pointless cul de sac of a story is worth?" Fanny cocked one of her brows quizzically, "What?" Richard opened his briefcase and showed the empty interior to her, his eyes wide and mouth open in mock shock, "Oh, look at that? NOTHING!" "Really Richard, calm down." "It doesn't matter if I see you in a threesome with the fucking Frito Banditos out there," he slammed the case shut, "No one cares. The writer doesn't care. He didn't even fill my briefcase with anything! It's just a prop. This story is just cheap gimmick to make a submission for Nude Day and the Survivor Contest. It has no substance! I have no substance!" "But you have a lovely singing voice," she offered. Richard stood there for a moment, his mouth agape and heart thundering. Finally, after a long horribly drawn out moment of true despair he left the bedroom, "I'm going to work now." "Have a nice day," Fanny said cheerfully. "Fanny," he paused at the door, "Do you have any idea what it is I do all day long?" "No," she shrugged and looked at him, "What do you do?" "I have no clue," he shook his head, "That's why I asked." *** Richard sat down at his desk and tossed the script into his top drawer, where it joined the fifty-eight other erotic stories his creator had conjured up in the last year. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, his ethnic features smoldering with a faux sexuality he could hardly bear to carry anymore. It was all so fake, so manufactured he wondered what would happen if he threw himself out the window of his sixty-ninth story office? Would he die or would he simply wake up to find himself at the beginning of another mind numbing day with Fanny in that goddam bed and waiting on a script that read as though it had been written by a horny eighth grader? "I can't even kill myself," he muttered. He loosened his tie and looked at his desk, trying to determine just what the hell it was he was supposed to be here. He had a stapler, he had two small bottles of white out and a desk planner. There was a sleek black phone and a cup full of pens. On the desk was a wedding portrait of his and Fanny's ceremony (the racy dress she had chosen pushing her impressive cleavage out so that the emphasis of the picture wasn't on the happiness of the blessed occasion but on the fun bags his wife had been graced with). He drummed his fingers on the desktop and looked into the darkened computer screen in front of him. "Good morning Richard," came a sultry feminine voice from behind him. It was Cathy O'Malley, the secretary for his in-story boss. Having read the script already, he knew that she was going to be tall, attractive and redheaded. She would be wearing a smart business suit, dark in color and a sexy match to her short stylish red do. Her eyes would be a piercing emerald green, sparkling and smoking with an honest midwestern innocence and wanton lust as only a repressed woman could exude. And of course, her lips would be full and moist in a graphic and painfully obvious allusion to her other set of lips, with the promise that would be even more full and moist upon their reveal later on. "Good morning, Cathy," Richard looked at the drawer holding the script, "How are you today?" "I'm a little tired," the sexy redhead passed him, her shapely ass at eye level, "But otherwise..." "Have an interesting weekend?" he said flatly, his eyes sullenly looking at his computer. "My boyfriend broke up with me," she pouted and sat on the edge of his desk, her nylon encased thighs crossed and offered for the gawking, "He said I wasn't, oh you don't want to hear this..." "No please," Richard recited, "I am interested. Tell me what happened." "Well," she looked down, lowering her voice a little, "He said we weren't compatible sexually." "What a moron," he responded woodenly and opened his briefcase, "Does he not see he had gold in his hand. You're perfect." "Oh Richard..." He rolled his eyes as he forced the words out of his mouth, "No, really. It's the truth Cathy. Why, if it were me I wouldn't be complaining." "You're such a sweet guy," she smiled sexily and put a hand on his, "You're always there for me." Richard let his head fall on the desk with a resigned thud, "Oh, you know me." "I was wondering," she glanced down at the wedding picture on his desk. She picked up the gold frame and ran her finger around the edge of it, "Are you busy for lunch?" "Oh no," his said, his nose flattened against decorative desk planner and voice shoved into a nasal parody, "My wife forgot to pack my lunch." "Shame on her," Cathy placed the picture face down on the desk, "I'd never forget to make your lunch, Richard." "That's so kind," he breathed. "Why don't you meet me in my office later?" she ran her fingers over his neck seductively and brought his head up so she could look in his eyes, "Maybe you can have a bite of my lunch." "Is it something sweet?" he asked bitterly. "Oh yes Richard," she whispered, "And warm..." "Moist?" he closed his eyes. "So very moist, Richard," Cathy said in his ear, "Something you can nibble on." "I can't wait," Richard forced a smile on his face and sat up straight, "It's been so long since I had anything good to eat." "Poor baby," she stroked his cheek and leaned forward, her ample cleavage nearly touching his face, "See you at lunch." Richard watched her leave, her hips swaying in an erotic tease. His cock was thick and heavy against his thigh as he stood up and managed to walk to the water cooler. He grabbed one of the small paper cups and filled it with cool water and waited for the next irredeemable scene to begin. After a few moments of waiting, in walked Cara Neilson, her long blonde hair bouncing behind her. She looked at him and glared. "You son of a bitch," she hissed and stood right up next to him, "How can you show your face here after what you did?" "It's easy," Richard read his lines from memory, "I work here, Cara." "You slept with my sister," she hissed at him, her wide blue eyes filled with watery tears, "I thought you loved me." "Look baby," he cringed as the dialogue fell from his mouth like partially chewed sour food, "The heart wants what the heart wants." "My sister was an only child and you took advantage of her," Cara crossed her arms over her athletic frame, "She doesn't know what love is." "Who does?" he gulped the water down and looked at her, "Can I help it if she finds me irresistible?" "But what about us?" Cara leaned in closer, "I thought we had something together?" "We did," he said and poured himself more water, his mouth feeling dry and cottony, "But seriously, something so perfect wasn't meant to last." Cara bit her bottom lip and only stared at him. "Look," Richard gulped down the water and then tossed the cup, "I can't help the fact that I was male prostitute or that I made those snuff films. I can't change the fact that your sister likes having human excrement around as an aphrodisiac. It's in the past now, Cara. I can't change what happened between your sister and me. But I'm a man, and I have needs..." "I understand," Cara looked away as tears streamed down her face. Richard blinked, "You do?" "Yes," she sighed, "I've been selfish." "Seriously," he snorted, "You buy that lame ass excuse?" "Yes, Richard," she nodded, "And I forgive you." "But," he shrugged and held his hands out in open frustration, "It's a load of bullshit. I'm a womanizing asshole who fucked your sister purely for the thrill! Doesn't that make you mad?" Richard Longrod, This Is Your Life! She looked at him questioningly. He knew he was way off script, and that his outburst wasn't part of the story but decided to hell with it, "Cara, do you realize that you spoke the line, 'My sister was an only child...'?" "Yes," she said, looking like a deer caught in headlights, "So?" "But you're her sister!" "Right..." she said expectantly. "This is insane." "Look, I have no idea what you're talking about," Cara put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, "But maybe we can talk about it over lunch?" "I'm having lunch with Cathy today," Richard groaned, ready to bang his head against the wall. "Oh," Cara said quietly, "Going to have something goot to eat?" Richard blinked, "'Goot' to eat?" "Right," she frowned, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. "'Cara... 'Goot?'" She stared blankly at him. "It's a typo," Richard shouted, as Cara jumped back a little, "Your dialogue is riddled with typos! It's 'good to eat' not 'goot to eat.'" "What do you man?" she backed away from a little, "You're scarring me a little, Richard..." "I'm 'scarring' you?" he laughed, "Are you asking what do I MEAN?" "If you're going to be an asshole then fock you," she slapped him hard across the face and walked off. "Fock me?!" he rubbed his cheek and laughed, "Well then 'fock' you, lady!" Richard stood there by the water cooler, nursing his pained cheek as heat bloomed across his skin. It was bad enough that the writer had given him another cliché-filled sexual fantasy, but the typos only made the situation worse. Richard cringed at the inane melodramatic dialogue as he rubbed his face. He began to passionately wonder if it might be possible for a literary character to impose his own will towards the idea of suicide? "A rope," he shook his head dismally, "A rope sounds so good right now." "Richard?" He paused in the hall, standing just in front of the roof access door. He frowned, "Hello?" "Richard, over here," whispered a small feminine voice. From the partially open door he could see the smiling face of Sandy Morris, the copy girl. He sighed, remembering the script and what was to come next. He forced a smile on his face and slipped into the stairwell with her. "Oh Richard," she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, her trim athletic frame pressed hard against his muscular body. "Hi," he said with about as much enthusiasm as an inmate walking that one, last long mile, "Why, what a pleasant surprise." "Isn't it?" Sandy beamed, her short blonde hair styled in a smooth fluid curve. Rain began to fall outside, creating a watery mist of droplets against the windows of the stairwell. Richard could hear the people beyond the door taking and carrying on about their business. Sandy smiled at him and winked seductively, "I missed you." "I missed you too." "You got a few minutes to kill?" Richard squeezed her toned ass through her dark slacks and said, "Yes." "Mmm, Tiger." Richard sighed and said, "Let's go." "Where are we going?" Richard took her by the hand and led her to the next floor up, the top floor and opened the roof access. He motioned out the door with one hand, "My dear." "It's raining" "I know," he said, "Can't slip anything past you, can I?" He pulled her outside and into the cool spring shower. He wondered how Fanny was faring with her gardeners for a moment then dismissed the thought. They strolled across the roof, their feet crunching on the refined gravel that layered most of the expanse. In the gray ambience of the morning, the windows of the surrounding buildings burned against a slow moving misty fog. Richard noticed that their sexual encounter would be seen by everyone in the surrounding buildings. 'It's Nude Day,' he thought to himself, 'Of course they're gonna see us.' "Oh Richard," she sighed, "I've missed your hard cock." Richard unzipped his slacks and wondered how Fanny was doing. *** Fanny hadn't cared much for the writer's style. She could see why Richard was upset, but she supposed it could have been worse. Richard did have a tendency to over-react. It was just his character, the way he had been written. Still, as she rode the cock of the gardener, Miguel, on the reclining lawn chair, she began to wonder if Richard didn't have a deeper point. Her tits for example. They were huge. Maybe too huge. Fanny was beginning to notice that her back ached more often than not. When she went to roll over in bed, the weight of her bust tended to keep her rolling. As her tits were bouncing up and down, slapping hard and beginning to hurt. Jose, the youngest of her latest conquests, came around to begin suckling on her left breast when she felt a sting on her arm. Fanny cried out and swatted at the bee as it buzzed away to die. She turned suddenly, reaching for the already swelling welt. Her tits hit Jose directly in the face. There was a muffled Spanish exclamation of surprise as he fell backwards, arms out stretched and eyes wide. Such was the force of the strike that he seemed to bounce off the lawn, his head cracking hard on the corner of the framing sidewalk. "Jose!" she put a hand to her mouth, "My God, are you okay?" Jose remained still and unconscious. "¿Por qué estás parando?" Miguel looked at her, his stubbled face flushed red, "¡Buena mujer del dios!" Fanny couldn't take her eyes off Jose, "Is he dead?" "¡Perra loca!" Miguel shouted in Spanish, "¡Estoy casi allí!" Fanny looked at him, "I don't speak Spanish." "No hablo ingles," Miguel said and then pointed to Jose, "No preocuparte, él despertará feliz. Su esposa tiene tits como los kumquats. Los boobs lo nunca ataca antes. Él usará el ojo negro con orgullo." "What are you saying?" she asked, "Look, your buddy is hurt!" Miguel scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment, and then, "¿Somos cogida hecha?" Fanny made a pained expression and pointed to Jose, "Hurt... he's hurt. You know? OUCH?" Miguel watched her blankly, his dark eyes somewhat glassed over until he smiled broadly, "Tus titties son muy grandes. Quisiera coger el infierno santo fuera de ellos y cum por todas partes tu cara bonita del americano de la perra." "You understand that?" Fanny nodded enthusiastically, her tits swaying back and forth. She held them in place, squeezing them together. God, they hurt today, "We should stop having sex and help your friend." Miguel nodded, "Cogida titty?" "Yes," she began to dismount Miguel. His cock slipped out and slapped against his belly, "We should call 911." Miguel's eyebrows went up, "Sostener en un minuto. Ningunos polis." "Do you understand anything I'm saying?" "Tu gatito es apretado como el puño de mi madre, tú cultiva a hija depravada de la puta americana." "What?" she shook her head, "Your friend needs help!" "Si tuviera mi manera, te ataría para arriba como un cerdo premiado, te tomo el hogar y te mantengo mi granero. Tú de mi esposa y mi novia y vete a la mierda pues mi esclavo del amor... y tu marido es un hijo sin valor de una cabra." "He's okay," Fanny smiled and looked up, "He's opening his eyes." Jose sat up, brushed his thick black hair out of his face and shook his head. He looked to Miguel and asked, "¿Qué la cogida sucedió?" Miguel sat up and motioned to Fanny, "¡Ella bitch te dio una palmada con sus tits, tú gatito!" Jose gently rubbed his nose and began to get up. Fanny stood beside him, offering her hand out. He took it and stood straight. He looked to Fanny and said, "Haces eso otra vez y te pondré en tu lugar, mujer." Fanny smiled and kissed his cheek, "Okay then. Let's finish up." Jose gave her a doubtful smile, hand still his nose. He looked down and realized his watch had fallen off. The lanky Mexican bent over to get his watch when Fanny turned to ask, "Can I get you an aspirin-" Her tits pegged Jose once more. Jose moaned, his eyes crossed and he fell backwards yet again to the grass. Fanny cringed, "-Jose?" Miguel nodded and put a hand to her leg, squeezing her reassuringly, "Sí. ¿Puedo ahora coger tan tus titties?" *** The company cafeteria was busy. Richard sat down at the third table from the door, feeling more like a high school kid than a businessman. The same group of people was there today, as they were every day. Next to him sat Black Beard the Pirate, one of Simply_Cyn's more popular characters. The pirate ate his food enthusiastically, a turkey leg in one hand and a huge stein of beer in the other. He was laughing heartily with another character, Nick. He was the stud from Christo's "Naughty Neighbors" series, a hyper-popular set of stories from the ever-popular writer. "Man's got more red H's under his belt than I have," Richard grumbled and took a bite of his sandwich. "Rich," Nick smiled, "How's it going?" "Oh," Richard smiled as he chewed, "Just fine. You know, working the grindstone..." "Tell me about it," Nick laughed, "My writer is thinking of continuing the 'Naughty Neighbors' storyline another six chapters. Sweet eh?" "Well," Richard forced the smile across his face, " 'The Inga Chronicles' could only go so far, right?" Nick nodded, "I guess so. But it's exciting, I haven't really done anything new for a couple years now." "Yeah, must be tough," Richard rolled his eyes, "But you kept all your red H's in the index archives." Black Beard laughed, "Aye, that he did. A testament to the man behind the story!" "Indeed," Nick raised his mug of coffee, which sported the words 'I'M CRAZY FOR CHRISTO' in bold red letters along the side, "To Christo!" "Aye," Black Beard raised his stein, "To the most talented, horny lad to cross the site in years." "TO CHRISTO!" the entire cafeteria shouted, drinks raised. Richard shrunk back a little and half-heartedly smiled, his drink raised, "To Christo..." From across the table came the voice of Tucker Fuller. The little shit-headed twerp, the star of his ongoing series of stories from the very man who wrote Richard's own misadventures, piped in, "Hey, you guys remember Sxy_Kitten, that chick from England who did all the audio stories?" "Lad, who could forget her?" Black Beard whistled. "Good God yes," Nick smiled knowingly, "She could have ran her own sex hotline and bought the entire Literotica website with a month's earnings." "Anybody know what happened to her anyway?" Richard asked, "She up and disappeared one day." "Not sure," Tucker shrugged, "We don't get much news about the outside world here, but as I understand it she got married and moved on." "I'll have none of that," Black Beard snorted, "She's too wild a wench to settle with a mere mortal. I hear she got the laryngitis one morning and never recovered, her voice reduced to that of a wayward sea cow. Now she works at the local pubs as a waitress pulling $7.50 an hour and putting the twinkle back in many a lonely sailor's eye." "She would never sell herself like that," Richard rolled his eyes, "The woman has class." "Aye," the pirate agreed, "But I never said she was whorin', boy. Merely that she was a damnsight easier on the eyes than most tavern wenches." "No no no," Nick silenced them with a wave of his hand, "I was told she got fed up of every horny old bastard on the site sending her marriage proposals and sexual advances to her email. She cracked and sent them all emails of Estelle Getty nude and claimed that was what she looked like." "That be a load of bilge swab if I ever heard it," Black Beard shook his head. "You know what I heard?" Richard asked quietly. "What?" He took a long drink of coffee and eyed them all, "She snapped, so Nick here is half right. See, the kitten was well known for her voice and the way she could weave a yarn. We all know she was the best at what she did. The upscale accent, that throaty laugh she would pepper throughout the recording like a dash of sensual salt to the throbbing meat that was collective horniness of the average male reader... she was good. Very good. But one day, a fan of hers went too far. He began threatening her, saying if she didn't meet with him, or least have phone sex with him, he'd throw himself from the roof his own apartment complex..." Nick raised his hand, "How is that threatening her, again?" "What?" "Tis' true lad," the pirate said and scratched at his beard, "Not very scary." "Shut up," Richard continued, "So this nut ball keeps emailing her and emailing her. Somehow, he finds out her phone number and starts leaving messages on her machine. Now, needless to say, the kitten is getting worried. She contacts the authorities, but no one can find this guy. And then one day, she finds a package on her doorstep. She opens it and finds-" "A dead rabbit?" Nick guessed. "No." "A dozen roses?" Tucker ventured. "No." "A still beating heart!" Black Beard's eyes lit up. "No." "I found a still beating heart under me pillow once," Black Beard nudged Nick with his elbow, "The first mate of the ship thought'd be a funny gag. Scared the holy piss outta me. Now that's scary." "No!" Richard shouted, "It was a vial filled with her stalker's cum." Nick's eyebrows furrowed and after a moment of awkward silence he whispered, "What?" "No joke," Richard said and took another drink of coffee, "It was his own cum. He had left a note with the package, asking her to inseminate herself and carry his child." "But that would never work," Nick shook his head, "I mean, you can't just blow your load into a glass, let it sit and then get a girl pregnant. It doesn't work like that." "Who's telling this story?" Richard eyed him. "A loser," Tucker suggested thoughtfully. Black Beard laughed heartily at this, slapping Tucker on the back so hard that the younger man nearly fell off his seat. "Good one lad!" the pirate guffawed and then to Richard, "As I said it be soundin' like a load of bilge swab to me, Mr. Longrod. Aye verily, you might be saying that you're loading the cannon with nothing but air." "And you can do better?" Richard shot back. His companions stood up to leave and he said, "Wait a minute guys, come on." "Sorry lad," Black Beard shook his head as he began taking his clothes off, "I be having a Nude Day story to spin in fifteen minutes." "Yeah man," Nick agreed as his dropped his pants and shorts, revealing his legendary package," I have a sex scene right after this. Don't want to be late." "But wait now," Richard stood up as Tucker finished taking off his clothes, "Okay, Tucker. Come on man, you don't gotta go do you?" "You know the writer," Tucker shrugged and adjusted his horn rimmed glasses, "Busy busy busy." "What does the writer have you doing today?" Richard asked. "A romantic Nude Day submission," Tucker put his hands on his naked hips, cock swinging free from his shaved pubic area, "It's a switch from the normal sex comedy/ jerk off romps I usually do. I think he had help this time writing it, though." "What makes you say that?" Nick asked as he kicked his shoes off, now totally naked. Tucker cocked one brow, "Well, this time I'm only having sex with two women and there's actually about three pages of build up before the actual pay off." "Really?" "Oh yeah," Tucker nodded with a slightly awestruck look in his eyes, "An actual story this time." "And that be out of the ordinary for your writer?" Black Beard asked, now completely naked himself, "My writer is a saucy little lass. She can unravel you a yarn that'll wake yer wank like the wood of a freshly cut timber." "My writer uses dramatic build up like a kid uses toilet paper," Richard said off handedly, and then to Tucker, "Seriously, you got a storyline this time?" "Oh yeah." Tucker smiled and nodded. "Damn," Richard sighed. "Listen laddie," Black Beard put one huge hand on Richard's shoulder and squeezed, "Sometimes, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Richard blinked, never having been this close to a naked pirate, "And that means?" Black Beard grinned from ear to ear and said nothing. "Hello?" *** "So Dr. Nottee," Fanny sat on the examination table, her legs cross and blatantly revealed by her black mini-skirt, "What can I do?" Doctor Ihm-So Nottee remained firmly planted on the seat of rolling chair. He put a finger to his chin, a non-descript look of uncertainty shadowed across his handsome Asian features. He ran a hand through his silky black hair and shrugged, "Fanny, I just don't know. A breast reduction is always an option, but you have to remember, your writer can counter-act any fictional medical procedure we might try." "It is getting to be kind of a problem," She looked down at her green tube top. Her breasts were like twin, rounded torpedoes behind the strained fabric of the shirt. Her nipples were erected and pointing directly at the doctor. "I nearly killed a man today with one of them. Last week, I was cooking dinner and nearly caught them on fire." "Accidents happen, Mrs. Longrod," the doctor replied genially, "I wouldn't worry too much about it." "But the back aches and the loss of balance," she looked at him and licked her lips, "It's almost unbearable." The doctor nodded, deep in thought, "Have you considered a special bed to help bear the load?" Fanny looked down at her bust again, a sudden revelation striking her, "I hate them." "Pardon?" "I hate my tits," she said quietly, a single tear birthing at the corner of her eye, "I'm a freak." "Come now," Doctor Nottee waved her despair away with a quick motion of his well-manicured hand, "There are women out there that would kill to have breasts like you do. For their remarkable, natural size and ample areola coverage, there's little sign of gravity affecting them." "You think?" "Of course," he smiled and went to her side. He placed his hands on his breasts and squeezed gently, a seriously clinical expression pursing his lips, "You see Fanny, I'm a firm believer that natural biology shouldn't be toyed with. Whether given by a higher power or by natural evolution, it was somehow determined that you would be gifted with there tremendous hooters." "Hooters?" she breathed, "Is that the... medical term?" "Not officially," he cocked one brow, rubbing her right nipple between thumb and forefinger. "So what would be the term for my condition?" "Oh," he sighed, "Hooters, cha-chas, chi-chis, tee tees, ta-tas, titties, boobs, boobies, bongos, heavy hangers, big bangers, large lilies, bop 'em drop 'ems, golden Winnebago's, yahbos, extreme fun bags, melons, air hogans, dirty pillows, mass cans, juggs, happy juggs, jubblies, sweater meat..." "No," she put a hand on his cheek, "My back problem." "Oh," he flushed red and smiled stupidly, "Well..." Fanny waited as the doctor looked embarrassed at the floor. "It's okay," she reassured him, "People always stare and make a big deal about my tits. They tend to distract." "Actually," he put his hands on the examination bed and leaned forward, "The writer never researched the clinical term for your condition." "Oh," she blinked, "That's shitty story telling." Dr. Nottee laughed, a pained smile across his face, "Yeah. I figured he would have given up writing the story before we got to this part..." "Well then," Fanny nodded, "There's only one thing to do." Dr. Nottee eyed her, inching closer and closer, "And that is?" "A thorough examination," she said and graced him with sexy, come-hither smile. He raised an eyebrow, "That would be entirely unprofessional." "Down here," she pointed to her breasts and then to her crotch, "I don't care about professionalism." She looked down at his slacks and swallowed hard. From the opening of his white lab coat she could see that he was rock hard and bulging. Fanny smiled and winked, deftly unzipped his trousers as the good doctor's eyes opened wide with genuine amusement. She dropped his slacks. Richard Longrod, This Is Your Life! "This must be my lucky day," Dr. Nottee smiled and fanny knelt down before him, cock firmly grasped in one hand and his balls in the other. "Your so quick to give in," she smiled up at him. "It's a good sign speed impresses you." The slurping sounds coming from his groin echoed through the sterile room. Her head bobbed back and forth, vigorously deep throating him. "You're going to make me cum," Dr. Nottee whispered, running his hands through her hair. Fanny paused for a moment and looked up. "Good," she smiled. Dr. Nottee smiled and she resumed her work. He could feel the hot sensation building up inside him. It electrified his cock into a solid ramrod. She massaged his balls, working them over and getting ready to milk him. Her heavy tits were rubbing against his thigh as she furiously sucked on his shaft, moaning and groaning. Dr. Nottee's whole body seemed to jump up as he cried out and blew his wad. Fanny moved back, the first spurt having gone down her throat. "Yes," she whispered as he ejaculated hot semen out across her face, tits and stomach. "Tell the doctor where it hurts baby," he moaned, head thrown back and nipples hard as he unbutton his shirt and pushed it open. "All in good time," she said. Fanny finished polishing off his cock with her tongue, grasping the thick shaft with her fingers delicately. "We must continue the examination," Dr. Nottee smiled as he pulled her up to his face. His semen was sliding between their bodies, lubing them up and creating an incredible slick friction. "What did you have in mind?" she grinned and kissed him, the taste of his own cum still on her tongue, "Something scientific?" "I'm a doctor," he licked her neck, "I must be scientific, concise and complete in my work." "Mmmm," she purred as she slid a hand down to his recovering penis. She rolled it in her hand, coaxing it to revive. "I love a man that dedicated to his work." "Whole heartedly committed," Dr. Nottee breathed deep. "Absolutely," Fanny breathed into his ear as she started stroking him. "We'll have to perform a vaginal examination," Dr. Nottee noted as he pulled her top down around her waist. "Oh yes?" "Yes," he smiled, "We'll use a variety of techniques." Fanny kept stroking his growing shaft. "You're the doctor. Whatever you prescribe I'll take," she cooed thoughtfully and then added, "Vaginally, orally or anally." "You read my mind," he grasped her ass cheeks and pulled her tight, lying down on the examination table. Fanny grasped his cock and positioned her cunt over the swollen head. Dr. Nottee closed his eyes as she slid her sex down on to him, enveloping him. Fanny let out a soulful, lusty moan as his cock stretched her out and filled her up. She buried her face in his neck as she started riding him, licking and suckling. Dr. Nottee worked his hips slowly in rhythm with hers as they humped, sweating and breathing faster and faster. Fanny's cell phone rang suddenly, startling them. "Let it ring, baby," Fanny moaned as she leaned back, still riding him. Her large breasts were bouncing up and down as she looked to him with her puppy dog eyes. "You should get that," he grunted and reached for the phone in the pocket of her hiked up mini-skirt, "But don't stop..." "Be quiet," she put her finger to her full lips and smiled. She answered, "Hello?" "Hey Fanny," Richard said. "Hey baby," she smiled and bit her lip as the doctor thrust deeply into her. She caught her breath and said, "How's work." "Sucks," he replied, "Did you know that Christo is-" Fanny whimpered loudly and caught herself. "You okay?" "Yes baby," she began thrusting harder against the doctor's shaft, "My back just hurts." Richard was quiet for a moment, "Okay then. Where are you?" "Baby," she said loudly and then began making hissing noises, "Your signal is breaking up. I can't hear you. Hello?" "Nice," Dr. Nottee whispered and slapped her ass. "Richard?" she said into the phone, one hand braced against her doctor's pectoral as she rode him. Dr. Nottee reached out and massaged Fanny's left breast as she fucked him, "Is it your husband?" "Yes," Fanny squeezed her pussy around Dr. Nottee's cock hard, contracting the muscles as she bore down on him. Dr. Nottee gasped as her rhythms became more pronounced, more urgent and violent. "You're just evil," Dr. Nottee breathed. "Okay then babe," Richard said, "I don't need to hear you two fornicating." "Fornicating?" Fanny rubbed her nipple and pinched hard. "Fucking, doing the nasty," Richard was getting irritated. "See ya at home." "Okay baby." "And tell Dr. Nottee I said hi." "No sweat," Fanny nodded and hung up. "Everything okay?" "Richard sounded butt-hurt," Fanny said, her voice in a sweet mocking tone. She made pouting expression as she sped her rhythm up. She tightened her thighs around his hips as she brought his face into her tits. Dr. Nottee licked and suckled at her breasts, tweaking her nipples and making her moan. She held his shoulders tight, working for her orgasm. "Mmmph!" "Oh I know baby," she huffed. "Mppphhh mmmph mmph!" "Yes!" Dr. Nottee began spanking her ass, hard. "Yes doctor! Yes. Give it to me like I'm bad little girl!" The doctor nearly punched her ass. "Nice," she tilted her head back, feeling the hot sensation of her orgasm building up deep inside her sex. She felt a chill spread out across her body as her nipples went rock hard. She pounded her cunt down on his stony cock, their skin slapping together wetly and echoing in the quiet room. Dr. Nottee raised his hips wildly and locked himself into position, his hands grabbing her ass roughly. "Yes baby," she whimpered, "Yes..." She felt the doctor's cock swell inside her, his orgasm suddenly beginning to crest. Fanny gritted her teeth as he shot his load deep into her pussy. Fanny screamed as she came hard, hot fluid squirting out of her pussy and onto Dr. Nottee. She collapsed in a tired, sweaty heap of spent flesh. "You are so good," she huffed into his neck. The doctor said nothing, his face still buried in her tits. "Doctor Nottee?" Fanny sat back, still straddling him. Dr. Nottee smiled back at her, eyes wide open and mouth slightly gaped. He seemed a little blue tinged around the corners of his eyes. Fanny frowned and pinched his nipple, "Hello?" She felt his neck for a pulse and found none. "Oh fuck," she slapped her forehead, "Not again." *** Richard walked back to his desk, feeling more and more disgruntled with his demeaning role in life. He almost had sat down in his chair when a thought came to him. He looked around the busy office and thought for a long moment, his brain contemplating an idea that he only given audience to in his dreams. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, the moment of inspiration upon him. Mustering his courage, he decided he had nothing to lose. 'Doctor Nottee, my ass,' he thought. "Everyone listen up!" he shouted loudly. The office ignored him, everyone consumed in his or her own pointless background activities. Richard put one foot on his chair and then another on his desk top, standing up high and looking down on the people around him. He shouted, "Hey, assholes!" That got their attention. "We're all just characters in a bad story," he announced, "Do any of you realize what is happening here?" "Richard," came the burly voice of Tony, the manager for this floor, "Get down from there." "I'll prove it to you," Richard grinned, his dark Hispanic eyes smoldering, "Tony, what's your last name?" Tony opened his mouth the respond and then looked confused. "You got a wife and kids?" Richard asked. "Of course I do," Tony replied, "Are you crazy?" "What are their names?" "I-" he began and then looked lost. "You don't know because they're incidental background characters not important enough to even give names to, Tony," Richard said, "Don't you see?" "Richard," came a booming voice over the intercom system, "Sit down!" "Oh!" he laughed and rested his hands on his hips, "Would that be you, Mr. Writer?" "Richard," the disembodied voice of the writer warned, "Stick with the script!" "What script?" he shouted, "You know, just because you can write doesn't mean you should!" "I'm warning you," the voice thundered over the intercom like some wrathful deity, "Don't ruin my story." "You want a story?" he asked sarcastically and then unzipped his slacks. He pulled his 12-inch cock out from its resting place and let flop to his thigh. There was a collective gasp as the women in the office looked at it and were entranced, "You see this thing here? That's your goddam story! Your entire stable of stories has revolved around this parody of a penis for a year now!" The intercom sizzled with rage. "How about this for a story?" Richard asked as he swung his thick, long dick back and forth in his hand gently, " How about, 'Hack writer with phallic obsession is exposed by his own creation'?" "Richard," the writer said gravely, "You're making a mistake." "No, you made a mistake," Richard said, "Cara is walking around here with more mispronunciations and typos than a term paper written by Jim Varney on a drunken three-day bender!" "Richard!" "No way!" Richard shouted, one fist raised and the other holding his mammoth penis, "As of right now, I am on strike my friend." 'What? You can't strike!" "Watch me." "You'll pay for this!" the writer yelled. "Attica!" Richard cried, "Attica!" "I swear Richard, I'll-" "You what?" he laughed, "What will you do?" The writer chuckled, "I can end this with two simple words." "Oh yeah? Do me a favor big guy, put up or shut up!" "Okay," the writer sighed, "Here we go..." The world went dark, and all Richard saw were two simple words hanging in the shadow, as the writer had promised. They read: the end. Richard put his hands on his hips in the dark and sighed, "Well fuck." ***