Hi, my name is Linda. I was eleven when Mr. Farnsworth moved in next door. I still hadn’t had my first period. You may ask why I bring that up, but trust me it is germane to the story. Mr. Farnsworth. Yes, that was his name. When he moved into the other house at the end of our cul-de-sac it raised eyebrows, a single man, middle-aged to boot—certainly a curiosity. It was of course a big house for a solitary person to live in.
Certainly I’m older now as I finally tell you—or anyone—about what happened in that house that summer. I know a lot more about things now than I did then. I was just a kid. Since then I’ve been able to sort of ‘fill in the blanks’ about what happened to me, and others. Based on what I know today, this is how the unusual man took over our neighborhood—and my life.
* * *
My mom was at the kitchen window watching the moving van and the men unloading it. “Sorry, Linda, but by the looks of the stuff they’re bringing in, it doesn’t appear they have any kids.”
“It’s OK mom, I still have Danny and Pat to play with.” Yes, they were girls: my best friends Danielle and Patricia. It would have been nice to have another girl move in next-door, one I could be friendly with, but I guess it wasn’t to be. Even a boy, I thought, though I wasn’t into boys yet.
A tall, slender man, who arrived following the moving van in a black Mercedes, was in the yard with his arms folded like he was supervising the movers. He wore casual clothes but he still looked formal, like he usually wore a three-piece suit. Dark yet thinning hair framed his thin face, a face that gave no hint of his age. My mother deemed herself to be the one person neighborhood welcoming committee, so I knew what would happen next, as she asked if I wanted to go outside with her to greet the newcomer.
We marched across our yard to his. My mom all smiles (like that’s what she lived for); she was always nosey like that, but I loved her anyway! He noticed us after a while. At first his expression belied nervousness but quickly morphed into a warm smile. It looked genuine to me. For some strange reason I thought he’s a nice man.
My mom shook hands and introduced us. When he returned the favor and introduced himself as Frederick Farnsworth, I almost giggled. It sounded like such a funny name. I looked at my mother and did a double take. She looked like she was going to faint—later on I would know the word “swoon” and realize that’s what she did. She wouldn’t let go of his hand! It was like she was hypnotized or something.
When he turned to me and shook my hand, saying, “And nice to meet such a lovely young lady as you, Linda.” The combination of his touch and his unnerving gaze made my stomach do a flip-flop as if I swallowed a hundred butterflies. My knees almost buckled. What was this strange feeling, and was it what also got to my mom?
My mother nearly skipped back to our house, she was so giddy. I was still confused by the effect his touch—and his eyes—had on me. My legs wobbled and I was unsure if I could make it to my house without toppling over. I made it even when the butterflies decided they still wanted to fly some more, making me quiver from my tummy to my crotch. Especially in my crotch. I was confused why my panties felt so wet.
“Oh, Linda, what a NICE man he is,” my mom gushed. I looked at her—my God, she was blushing!
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered nonchalantly, though the voice in my head was saying yes, he’s more than nice, and maybe I’ll go visit him later. Another more logical voice said it’s not like he’s one of the Jonas brothers, you know; that voice fighting over the ‘sound’ of those butterflies.
When we got to our doorway, I said, not knowing why, “Why don’t we invite Mr. Farnsworth over for dinner when dad gets home?”
My mom surprised me by her vehemence. “No! No, I don’t think so.” She blushed again. “Let’s not bother him, er, until he gets settled in, ok? Maybe I’ll bake him some cookies as a welcoming gift…that sounds like the thing to do.”
Holy shit, my mom’s not exactly a baking powerhouse so where did that come from?
Later on I caught my mother looking out a window at the house next door, as if she was waiting anxiously for someone to come home. My dad was home from work, but mom ignored him, keeping a strange watch on Mr. Farnsworth’s place.
After dinner, my friend Danny came over to visit. She was eerily flushed and excited about something, but in an unusual way I couldn’t quite pinpoint. When we went to my room, she seemed to float rather than walk. She had on a t-shirt and it was plastered to her skin from sweat although the air wasn’t that humid. I mean, neither one of us has breasts yet, but her nipples must have been very stiff as they poked at the thin cotton fabric, so I could make them out clearly. The door closed, she started telling me about where she’d been.
“Oh, Linda, you just HAVE to like meet the new man who moved in next door to you! He’s so nice! I was walking by his house coming here and he was on the front steps, and he invited me in. His name is Frederick and he was so sweet, “ she rattled off non-stop.
I told her that I had met the man, and she repeated how “dreamy” he was. Dreamy?? The old dude?
“When did you talk to him? I thought you were coming here an hour ago.”
She looked at my bedside clock as a puzzled frown washed across her face. “I…I don’t know…it didn’t…it wasn’t that long ago…was it?” The frown left her and she perked up again. “We’ve got to go over his house tomorrow! You, Patty, and me, ok? He’s really cool!”
Remembering the butterflies and my wet panties, I knew something wasn’t quite right with this whole Mr. Farnsworth thing, but I also remembered how pleasant it was to shake his hand and talk with him.
* * *
I wasn’t comfortable knocking on Mr. Farnsworth’s door, but Danny just about dragged Pat and I along with her. She knocked. When he answered the door he was awash with excitement to see us.
“How delightful!” He beamed. “Are you three the new Welcome Wagon?”
I had no idea what a welcome wagon was, but since Danny and Pat were struck dumb, I spoke up. “Danny…I mean Danielle…told us she had a nice…visit yesterday, so we decided to come over and say hello.”
“Come in, come in! I have some fantastic cookies Mrs. Hebert down the street brought over.” He ushered us to his sofa, where we sat still like three crows on a telephone wire.
Out came the plate of cookies. I figured my mom was too late for cookies—beaten by Mrs. Hebert with her gigantic boobs—I bet she didn’t bake ‘em. They were good. As I munched on mine, I snuck glances at Danny and Pat. Danny looked like she was in Disney World with a private meeting with Mickey. Patty looked less rapt, but I could see her chest rise and fall rapidly as if she was out of breath. The butterflies were back, but at least I was breathing ok. He was an unusual man, and we were acting so unusual around him. He didn’t sit in the easy chair opposite the sofa but instead perched himself on the sofa’s arm right next to me. I hadn’t realized I finished my cookie until he offered me another. When I reached for one from the offered plate, he brushed a couple of fingers lightly across my cheek. At his touch the room spun and I suddenly grew warm and tingly.
“That’s a pretty top you have on, Linda. What do they call them?”
“Babydoll blouses, sir,” I answered. Sir?? I fought the tunnel vision and lost. I didn’t want to pass out but I thought I might.
“Ah, baby-dolls. That’s exactly how I would describe you three lovely young ladies, gracing me with your presence on this hot summer day. How delightful!” When his eyes moved from me to Patty, she moaned. It didn’t sound like pain to me, but pleasure. Then he stared at Danny and she moaned louder than Pat had.
Even though my heart was palpitating wildly, I knew I had to get out of there. “Ah, Mr. Farnsworth, I have to get home now,” I said, my voice barely above a squeak.
“So soon?” He said. “Must you all leave so soon?”
Pat spoke up quickly, looking over at Danielle, “Me and Danny can stay a while longer, can’t we?” Danny nodded rapidly.
I should have been concerned for leaving my friends alone with my strange new neighbor. However, some inner voice kept telling me it’s ok they’re ok, he’s a nice man, everything will be fine. An hour or so later, I saw Danny and Patty walking away from Mr. Farnsworth’s house, their clothes looking funny at that distance but they seemed happy enough. I shouldn’t worry.
* * *
Something drew me to his house the next morning. I couldn’t explain the magnetism but that’s exactly what it felt like—I was being drawn, attracted, summoned. I knocked on his back door. I was surprised to find it swing open after my second knock. Entering his kitchen, I called out to him, though not too loud.
“Mr. Farnsworth? Are you home? Your door was open…hello…”
I heard sounds coming from the living room where just yesterday my friends and me sat mesmerized. When I walked up to the archway separating the two rooms, I was shocked to see a naked Mrs. Hebert having sex with Mr. Farnsworth on that very same sofa! After all, I did have an idea what sex was, and considering that Mrs. Hebert was naked and bouncing on his lap, and I could see Mr. Farnsworth’s penis go in and out of her, and she was saying things like “God this is the best” and then “I’m cumming,” followed by a loud wail, I sure knew what they were doing. I didn’t know why but watching them was sort of spellbinding. I felt all those queasy stomach feelings and the itch in my groin big time.
I was trying to break away from the hypnotic spell and sneak away when Mr. Farnsworth winked at me before himself groaning that he was cumming too. He saw me! I stood there, not moving, like I HAD to. When they were done Mrs. Hebert simply rolled off, and after Mr. Farnsworth stood up, she laid down and seemed to fall asleep. Mr. Farnsworth walked toward me putting a finger to his lips, asking me to be quiet. Why would a naked man walking to me and asking me to be quiet be something I should fear?
In his kitchen, he whispered, “Well, well, Linda. How nice of you to stop by. Mrs. Hebert and her darling little Emma came to visit, and now you. I’m so lucky to have nice new neighbors such as you.”
I tried to look at his face instead of his penis, all veiny-purple and wet and hanging there, but looking into his eyes was nearly impossible and clearly was more treacherous than staring at his manhood. “I…I…ah…I knocked but the door was open a little…and…”
“It’s ok dear, I would never close my door to sweet girls like you.”
“Emma is here?” I asked after what he said finally registered.
Oh yes, she’s in the room around the corner over there,” he pointed, “and I suppose she was watching us as you were my dear.” He held out his hand to take mine. I gave it to him without question. I had to. “I hope you didn’t mind what Mrs. Hebert and I were doing, do you? She practically begged me, and you know…well, I believe you are too young to know about sexual desire.”
I finally looked away from his penis and up to his face. His eyes burned through me, all the way to my crotch. I didn’t know what was happening, but the voice in my head was back—It’s safe, you’re safe, he won’t hurt you, he’s a nice man, so nice.
“I have to see Emma now anyway. Would you like to come with me?” He had my hand in his and led me to the other room without resistance. We passed the sofa upon which Mrs. Hebert was splayed out, with her legs open and her big boobs rising and falling as she breathed, sound asleep.
When we got to the other room, which turned out to be a bedroom, Emma was sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile on her face reminiscent of the crazed look on Danny’s face yesterday. Emma was eight-years-old. She was wearing a little yellow sundress and no panties, and when Mr. Farnsworth came into the room, she livened up and nearly squealed with delight, jumping into his arms. He tilted her back a bit in his arms so she was mostly parallel with the floor, and lowered his head like he was going to kiss her! His mouth however didn’t go to hers but instead went to her lower neck, close to her exposed collarbone. I couldn’t see what he was doing—a strange place to kiss someone, I thought—but my mind never questioned her not having panties on, or the fact that a naked man was kissing her at all. As he kissed (?) her, Emma’s legs would kick out and spread wide open, and I saw clear liquid seep from her bald puss knowing somehow it wasn’t pee. She started to moan and squeak until she was wailing much like her mother had moments ago in the living room.
Suddenly, Mr. Farnsworth turned away from her neck and looked back at me. Everything looked normal, he’s a nice man, smiling at me and he likes me, as he likes Emma. “Don’t you think it’s hot in here?” He said. “Linda, why don’t you get out of those clothes and cool off a bit.” Without a single questioning thought I got undressed, finally stepping out of my panties, totally naked watching him go back to ‘kissing’ Emma until she was twitching and squealing again, lots more of the clear liquid leaking from her.
He gently laid Emma on the bed and turned to me. She looked like she was sleeping as soundly as her mom. Mr. Farnsworth walked to me and again I found myself staring at his penis, which was kind of standing up stiff. He said I was the “special one,” and wanted to “savor every moment.” I didn’t know what he meant. I simply lifted my arms to him so he could pick me up as he’d done with Emma.
He didn’t ‘kiss’ me right away like he’d kissed Emma. Instead he held me in his arms; so warm, so comforting, so magnificent was the feeling of his body on mine.
“Oh Linda, you are the prize of this old man’s life,” he whispered in my ear, “I could smell it the first time we met.” Smell, I thought—what was he saying, and what was happening here? My fog-filled mind didn’t have answers. His lips brushed my earlobe as he continued whispering, “Your blood is the fuel of a thousand ages. I could sense it…how fine you will be.” While he whispered his lips kept brushing against my ear and a soothing inner heat swept over me like an ocean wave. I moaned.
“Ah, your moan indicates you feel it too…my power is your power is my power.” He said, but nothing he said was really registering with me anymore. I had an unrecognized need and wanted it fulfilled somehow.
He laid me on his bed next to Emma, who still slept, and lay down beside me. His hands caressed me, first letting his fingers run circles around my surprisingly swollen nipples, then down my belly to my crotch before lazily coming back to my belly. The heat was ecstasy. I had no qualms, no fear. It felt so good. He’s a nice man, nothing to be afraid of, it will be like heaven opened up and swallowed me.
With his warm hand resting at my tummy, he whispered again, “You’re too young to understand sexual exhilaration, but perhaps I can prepare you for the joy, the thrill. Your blood will be thus charged for…the taking.”
His hand slowly moved down to my pubic bone and all of a sudden my mind was overcome with a vision of Bobby Jenkins, the cutest boy at school, laying down on top of me and then putting his hard penis in me. He was having sex with me in the vision! But the vision felt real—I felt it, heard it, tasted it—so much reality my breath was almost sucked from me. Did I cry out in reality, or was it just in the vision I wailed as both Mrs. Hebert and her daughter had done earlier? “Ohhhhh Bobby…I’m…I’m…oooooooooooooooo!”
What was real and what was not?
I didn’t know Mr. Farnsworth had moved over me until I felt the electric brush of his lips on my neck just before I felt the pinprick. That’s all it was, a faint prick like a needle at the doctor’s office. All thought was lost. Fire! Red-hot fire swept through me. I felt my legs thrust wide and my back arch up, begging, begging…for what? I heard my own rapturous voice cry “Bobby!” The image of Bobby Jenkins temporarily swam into view and I desperately tried to wrap my legs around his ephemeral form. To keep him close, to keep him IN. I didn’t understand any of it.
My next memory was the realization I was naked in a strange bed, tingling all over, with my legs wrapped around Mr. Farnsworth’s leg, and his erection rubbing against my belly. I wondered if he just had sex with me, but how was I to know what it would be like to have sex (except for the vivid dream of Bobby Jenkins)? Mr. Farnsworth looked into my eyes and suddenly I needed no explanation—not because I knew, but because of the voice in my head, again—I’m special, he made me even more special by what he did.
He whispered, “Years, years I’ve longed for someone as strong as you…years.” He slowly extricated himself from my grasping arms and legs, and said, “I believe darling Emma is waking up. Why don’t you spend some time with her? I also believe her mother is waking. I shall attend to her so she’ll be gone when your mother arrives.”
Emma smiled at me, and said, “Hi, Linda. Did the nice man make you feel good too?”
I looked at her neck more closely and saw what looked like an incision about a half-inch long. Except for a very thin scab beginning to form, it didn’t look like much. I touched it lightly and Emma didn’t even flinch. Mr. Farnsworth came back into the bedroom now fully dressed. He helped Emma put her panties back on, then smiled and looked at me.
“If you’d like, Linda, you may stay here for a while and rest. You feel warm enough?” As if those words alone did it, a warmth permeated me from head to toe—a warmth not unlike the feeling I had moments ago when he ‘kissed’ my neck, though not nearly as intense. “I must explain that…sharing…your blood with me has made me very aroused indeed, as you so keenly noticed I was truly erect and still am. Someone dear to you will take care of that nicely.”
He took Emma away, and soon I heard the front door close. He did not return to the bedroom right away, and I drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming strange dreams for an eleven-year-old girl. After an indeterminate amount of time, I awoke, hearing sounds from the next room that were not from conversation. I got off the bed, wondering for a moment why I was naked, and peeked into the living room. Mr. Farnsworth was on the sofa having sex—on top this time—with a different woman. His butt cheeks tightened on each thrust of his hips, as he went in and out of her. For her part, she was saying things like, “I need this! I haven’t had a decent fuck in YEARS!” And swearing at him to “Fuck me harder, you bastard, do me, do me gooooooooood!” At her urging he seemed to go faster.
I can’t remember ever seeing her completely naked and here she was doing it with a stranger who just moved in next door. I should have felt bad for my dad having her cheat on him but the calming voices in my head were doing their job and I simply watched. Before today I had only a vague idea of sex and now I’d seen two acts in the flesh and one in my vivid dream (Bobby Jenkins!)
Like déjà vu, while my mom was crying she was “cumming” Mr. Farnsworth winked at me and motioned with his hand to come to them on the sofa. I did. I got down on my knees next to the sofa. Mr. Farnsworth whispered “Oh dear, this is perfect, mother and daughter both to be taken in their own way.” Even while he still thrust his hips he leaned over and again I felt the pinprick sensation on my lower neck.
“Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh,” I moaned as the entire world’s butterflies took flight in my belly.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” he moaned as he climaxed.
My mom’s screams drowned out both our cries of joy.
My entire body was magma-hot and my only other sensation was of trickles of liquid running down both thighs.
I didn’t recall anything after that until my mom said, “Hi Linda, how nice of you to come over and visit Frederick too.” She was dressed and sitting primly on the sofa. I realized I was dressed too, though my panties felt funny like they weren’t on quite right. Mr. Farnsworth—dressed as well—was sitting in an adjacent chair.
“Yes, it’s so pleasant to have nice neighbors such as you two visit me like this.” He said my mom’s name and then, “We MUST do this again.” She agreed, but to what I didn’t think she really knew. On the way to his door to show us out, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You WILL come to see me tomorrow, won’t you, Linda?”
Of course I would. Such a nice man shouldn’t be lonely.
* * *
Before I had the chance to think about visiting him, Danny came over, ready to drag me over there. I was eager to go but she was even more so. When I told my mom where we were going, she gave me a dreamy look and told me to be nice to the man, and be good. A picture of a pepperoni pizza popped into my mind (so good! —my favorite food!) and I said, “Don’t worry mom, I’ll be good.” Food.
Mr. Farnsworth welcomed us in and soon we were out of our clothes and lying on both sides of him on his big bed. He drank first from Danny until her hips jumped and she cried out. Her orgasm (I obviously didn’t know anything about ‘orgasms’ back then) was impressive to watch, maybe more intense than anything I’ve had in my life from sex. Unlike me her orgasmic liquid didn’t just trickle out, it sort of squirted. I wished I could do that when he took me. Then it was my turn, and in addition to ‘kissing’ my neck, he placed a finger between the folds of my immature puss and stroked it back and forth and around and around. I loved that feeling better than anything in this world. Warmth spread through me as if I was being electrified. I knew I screamed like Danny had, but knew little else.
When I became aware again, my head was resting on his stomach looking at the head of his engorged penis staring back at me. Danny was leaning on him from the opposite side and she began caressing his erection. Mr. Farnsworth moaned so I knew he liked it. I glanced toward Danny and saw the hypnotic smile as she rubbed him. Voices again: You can touch it too, feel its texture and warmth, stroke its length, go ahead. I did, palming him just below Danny’s small hand, and we stroked together. Soon we were rewarded with several sprays of white stuff streaming from the opening at the end of his penis. I thought this must be HIS juice like what came from Danny and I when he took us.
He said, “I need to feed again from the best source I’ve ever found,” and then ‘kissed’ my neck again. I never wanted that feeling to ever, ever end.
* * *
I went back the next day to let him feed, and the next day and the next. Every night I would look at my reflection in the mirror at the small incision at the lower edge of my neck near my collarbone and wonder where it came from. I was also looking in the mirror and admiring how much my breasts were growing lately. I mean, I actually HAD some now.
All the women on our street would visit with nice Mr. Farnsworth whenever they could, like when their husbands weren’t home. My mom was no exception. I really felt bad for my dad, but she still seemed to love him and I knew they had sex since I heard them often pounding away at night when they though I was asleep. I began to understand more of what was happening to me and why I was visiting him. It wasn’t just mothers going, of course, as all the young girls in our neighborhood spent their summer days at Mr. Farnsworth’s house.
I knew I was his favorite. Danny, Patty, Emma and other girls went there, but I was there everyday, all day. One day late in the summer, after he had taken me for the second time, I muttered the one word that kept popping into my foggy yet satisfied brain.
“Vampire?” I said.
He looked at me, smiled and said without any condescension, “No child, I’m not a vampire in the sense of bats and garlic and holy water and wooden stakes and all that hogwash in the movies. Obviously, I don’t have to hide from sunlight.” He stroked my hair as we lay next to each other in his bed while the afternoon sun coming through the window bathed us. “I think you already know the main difference, Linda. I give as much as I receive from my…what word should I use? …Partners? …Lovers? Donors seems all too unkind, I think.” He thought for a moment then continued. “There are not many like me in the world. I don’t have fangs; I don’t bite. I have a special organ in my mouth that helps me feed. I drink the serum from your blood, which nourishes me, makes me strong, and helps me live a long life. You will not become like me. That’s another thing best left to movie fantasy. What you will get from me—what you have already received—is strength and longevity you would never have on your own, though I sense you would become a magnificent woman even without my ‘gift’ to you.”
I knew in my heart that he had an aura, a sexual magnetism that drew all females to him naturally. Later in life I studied the effect of pheromones in humans, since as I grew older I noticed the effect I had on all the men around me. I believed that powerful pheromones gave Mr. Farnsworth his power over us, though I could never discount some form of psychic energy. He gave me that power—his bartered gift.
Even though long ago he’d released me from most of his ‘hold’, I still came to him, and now I kissed him. He had never penetrated me, yet we were lovers. He had spoken the correct word earlier. At eleven, this was my first romantic kiss, and it seemed to last forever.
“I wish our time together would last, but alas it must end,” he said sadly.
“You are only weeks away from menarche, your first period as you would say, your blossoming into womanhood. The power you have to give me will be no longer. Such a power it is; you are the gift, the supreme plasma of life. Because I have fed from you my life has been extended immeasurably. Also because I have fed from you I have sped up your development. Alas, menarche will come early for you as it has with your friends.” He saw the questioning look on my face. He continued, “Ah, yes, Patricia and Danielle have both menstruated. They still come to me but the attraction is sexual intercourse, not the…other.”
I was astounded. “You mean you have sex with them?”
“No, my dearest, I do not. I turn them away, for they, like you, are much too young for the sacred act. One side effect of feeding is the boost to my libido it gives me.” He laughed, “Something like taking a dozen Viagra pills. That is why I must draw women to me, such as your mother, or I would go crazy from arousal.
“If you have only so long with me, why don’t you feed on me one more time before I go home?” I said, offering my neck to him. His mouth came to me, and soon my legs kicked and my back arched up and my pussy exploded and I screamed in the sweetest anguish ever, made better because he released his hold and I acquiesced to his need all on my own.
* * *
I’m sitting at my desk, pondering how that summer changed me and defined me. Frederick Farnsworth moved away late in the fall, before I turned eleven. One day a For Sale sign showed up and that was it. We never saw him again. My mom was in a funk for months. From the time I really got interested in boys, they were both in awe of me and afraid of me, even Bobby Jenkins. I had developed early, my breasts bigger and firmer than any of the other girls in high school. When I got my first bikini the boys at the beach fought for my attention. It wasn’t only on the beach I intimidated the boys, for I excelled in the classroom as well. I was valedictorian my senior year. College seemed like a breeze and before I knew it I had an MBA and was on my way. Law school came next.
A voice at my office door brought me out of my daydream. “Don’t forget your one o’clock meeting with Congressman Miller.”
I smiled, and answered Jenny, “I never forget a meeting with HIM.”
The look on her face told me her daydream was all about the hunky politician. She said, “I’ll call you a cab, Senator.”
Jerry Miller was sitting at the bar when I entered the hotel. This place wasn’t the District’s most posh hotel but then again Jerry wasn’t looking for elegance, and neither was I. In Washington, people like us wanted to be anonymous every once in a while.
“Hi Linda,” he said while motioning to a seat at the bar next to him. We kept the greetings simple and had a couple of drinks before we walked to the elevator. Once in his room, we ripped our clothes off and hit the bed. After he tongued my clit for a while, he looked up into my eyes, now opened again, and said, “Your pussy always amazes me. Damn, it’s like a ten-year-old’s, smooth and not a hair to see. I still can’t fathom how you do it.”
I smiled at him and told him to stop talking and go back to licking. No way could I explain how my vulva in fact remained exactly as a prepubescent girl’s, another ‘gift’ from Mr. Farnsworth. Men have been worshiping at my pre-teen-tight vagina ever since the first time I fucked anyone.
As he slowly thrust into me, nestled between my legs, which were nicely wrapped around his exquisite ass, he said, “No President should be as tight as you are.” Thrust. Thrust.
I murmured, “No President’s ever had a cunt before, and I think that’s a better place to be tight than any asshole.”
He pumped, and we both laughed. He was a marvelous lover and knew how to last. Before he was going to cum, he groaned “Get ready, Madam President…”
I whispered, “In two years, Jerry. And you’ll be there with me.” I groaned, “I’m there too,” and I screamed in orgasm as he too climaxed. I hadn’t realized until later that while I came I bit him in the neck, drawing a little blood. His ‘gift’ ran deep. I thought: Thank you, Mr. Farnsworth, wherever you are.
If you liked my story, e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org and let me know what you think of my writing. This was my first erotic fiction story. I hope you liked it. The rest of my stuff can be found at the Cotton Candy web site. Thank you.