© Sauce*Box, Summer 1996.
All rights revert to author.
fantasy rug
by Declan
i saw this girl walk into the office today.
she had on this really tight sweater, tight gray pants. big tits. blonde
hair. long legs. nice ass. it's amazing how easy it is to fuck someone fully
clothed from 15 feet away on a crowded street.
in my head her nipples were really pale pink and she loved them being
bitten and of course I knew.
she loved to fuck to nin and she had this funky hairy rug she probably
got from someone on the market who went to india to find a guru in the seventies
and whose taste in interior decor never recovered, and she insisted we lie
on it and it made my butt itch and the faster we fucked the worse it got
so it was burning my legs and knees when she wanted fucking from behind
and i couldn't stop thinking about it, and couldn't concentrate and couldn't
stop, and i wondered how this fucking hairy rug ended up in my fantasy.
i'd have to have words with props, or continuity, or someone.
anyway, we fucked all over the house. in the hall, in the kitchen, in
the lounge, and everywhere she insisted on dragging this fucking rug with
us. after we fucked in the bathroom (where she insisted we go 'cause she
had some vaseline there and she wanted me to fuck her in the ass) the rug
got kinda damp, which made it smell, which was even worse.
i began to think it was some kinda freudian comfort thing. like her dad
was a hairy old bastard and she used to sit on his lap, or the first time
she came was on the back of some mangy old pony.
or something
fuck it
she had these great tits though
even though my knees were bleeding
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