THIS ENTRY WAS POSTED ON October 31, 2014 BY Disappointingly Realistic Erotica, co-written with Sarah Sloane.
Twirling his mustache - but not too hard, in case the spirit gum holding it in place gave out - Alan whirled on his boyfriend. He knew that he made an intimidating picture: the jacket he'd bought at the army surplus store was freshly pressed and fit him like a glove, showing off his broad, muscled chest.
"Tell me," he rumbled, "Where you have hidden the microfilm."
He glanced down at Isaac. He had tied the smaller man to a kitchen chair, deftly restraining each of his lanky limbs.
"Okay!" Isaac chirped.
Alan hesitated for a moment and then recovered.
"You seem to think that this will go easy for you," he continued. "but unless you tell me where to find the microfilm, I will torture you, starting with this terrifying device!"
He brandished his Violet Wand menacingly, flicking it on so that Isaac could see the electricity running through it in the dim light. Sweet, submissive-to-the-core Isaac smiled up at him.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know," he insisted, beaming. "I just want to make you happy."
***
"You said you were from Italy."
"But I am, my beauteeful laydee!"
"You sound French."
"Non. I am Eetalian!"
"You sound like Pepe le Pew."
***
Yes, her gorgeous, creative partner had screen printed a t-shirt with the logo of a local pizzeria, had rung the doorbell, had stammered as though dumbstruck by Kim's beauty when she had opened the door. Rhonda had been paying attention all those weeks ago, when Kim confided in her that she still fantasized about the goofy pizza-boy-meets-lonely-housewife scenarios from the VHS tapes she used to steal from under her brother's bed. Rhonda had even made an effort to replicate the hokey dialogue: "You're hungry? I have something you'll want to eat," she had declared, lifting her skirt to reveal a lacy pair of crotchless panties. Still, as they lay together, spent from an evening of passionate and athletic fantasy fulfillment, Kim had to admit something to herself: she kind of resented Rhonda for showing up with an empty pizza box.
***
Alice had worked all afternoon on her Damsel in Distress costume. She couldn't believe how readily Lamar had agreed to role play with her. He'd nodded along eagerly as she detailed her fantasy: a princess in a tower, a handsome prince who rescues her, kisses her sweetly, and then fucks her ass until she screams with delight. When she heard the door to Lamar's studio open, she practically skipped into the living room to meet him, unable to wait to see her husband transformed into a fairy tale prince.
Lamar wore a long, elegant gown, opera gloves, and a dainty tiara.
After they'd laughed, gasped for breath, laughed harder, gotten themselves under control, lost control again when Lamar turned to Alice and murmured, "Milady," howled with laughter until Alice had a coughing fit and had to get a glass of water, and settled finally into a comfortable silence punctuated only by the occasional giggle, Alice turned to her husband.
"Rock paper scissors for who gets to go first?"
***
"What I really want is to role play that I'm going to a sex store and you're my hot salesperson."
"I have a friend who works at The Pleasure Chest! I'll talk to her and get some ideas."
Later that day:
"I'm interested in that vibrator... but I'm hoping that you'll show me how to use it."
"Sure! Here's a schedule for our free workshop series!"
***
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