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From: Mr Slot <dalech33@optusnet.com.au>
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Subject: {ASSM} Twins 8. The Quest for Clifford. {Mr Slot} (ff fm fm fm+ oral incest humour)
Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2000 07:10:03 -0400
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The following is a work of fiction consisting of adult concepts and
possibly sex. Do not read if you are not legally permitted. I don't
want the police on my front doorstep.
You are welcome to read but please don't distribute without my
permission.
Feel free to make any comments to the author.
Send E-Mail to dalech33@hotmail.com
======================================================================
Author's Note: This story is part of an ongoing series. While you can
read this particular episode on its own, you will get a lot more out
of it if you read the first seven episodes first. Thanks to Ruthie for
doing her usual excellent editing job. Any mistakes here are mine, not
hers.
Prelude: Clifford discovered Tracy having sex with Coach Baxter.
Distraught, he runs to the willing arms of Janet, Tracy's nemesis.
Tracy is not happy.
Now read on.
======================================================================
Clifford sat up in bed feeling the warm body lying next to him. He
looked down at the shape in the near darkness.
Janet.
Christ, why did it have to be this way? He had loved Tracy, he still
did. So why was he in Janet's bed? Why did he have sex with her? Four
times? Not one of them was anything like the times he had been with
Tracy, and yet...
He got out of bed and made his way to the window, padding in his bare
feet across the carpet. He slowly pulled open the curtains and looked
out at the night. From his first floor window he could see a dark
figure across the road. As he watched, the figure lit a cigarette, the
flame from the lighter briefly illuminating her face.
Tracy.
Clifford felt his blood run cold as Tracy reached inside her heavy
coat and slowly withdrew a knife. The light from the street lamp
bounced off the wickedly-shaped blade. She started to walk towards
him, across the silent street, over the front lawn, until she
disappeared under the branches of a tree standing in front of the
window. Clifford craned his neck but couldn't see where she went.
And then she was there, standing right outside the window, the knife
poised to strike. She screamed and launched herself at him, smashing
through the window and sending slivers of glass into his naked body.
He fell backwards and she straddled him as he lay on the floor.
"Say goodbye to your dick, Clifford," she said and brought down the
knife.
Clifford sat bolt upright in bed, his body covered in sweat. Beside
him lay Janet, sleeping soundly. He took this as a sign that he didn't
scream during his nightmare. He considered going to the window to look
out, but decided against it.
"Are you okay, Raphael?" said Janet sleepily. She knew him as Raphael,
the Italian Stallion, from the party Clifford had attended with the
twins and Willy. She had screwed his brains out in the kitchen that
night, something Clifford had remembered when he went looking for a
way to ease the pain. The pain of losing Tracy.
"Si, whatever," he replied, not really wanting to bother with small
talk right now. Clifford was relieved to hear her breathing deepen and
develop into a light snoring. He looked again at the window and
decided to go back to sleep, or at least try to. He lay back in bed
and surprised himself by drifting off.
Outside, a lone figure stood watching the window, a cigarette clasped
between clenched teeth. It dropped the cigarette on the footpath and
stomped on it.
"Clifford," it said, with a voice full of hate and pain.
***
"Come on, cheer up, sis. There's plenty of other fish in the sea."
Stacy put her arm around her sister, Tracy, and gave her a squeeze.
"You just have to catch one, and believe me, you have the right bait."
"I don't want fish, I want Clifford," pouted Tracy in Stacy-like
fashion. "Maybe I should just swear off men altogether."
"Well I wouldn't go that far," said Stacy, "but it never hurts to
broaden your horizons. I happen to know a girl who is right up your
alley."
"I don't know how to have sex with a girl, Stacy. Maybe I should just
be a virgin." Tracy collapsed on her bed and curled up into a ball.
"I think it's a bit late to be a virgin, hon. As for not knowing how
to pleasure a woman, well it's actually quite easy. After all, you're
a woman yourself, you know what feels good." She looked down at her
despondent sister. "I can help if you want."
Tracy looked up at her sibling. "You? How?"
Stacy just smiled and began to undress. In no time at all she was
completely naked. She bent down and removed Tracy's bunny slippers
from her sister's feet. "Come on, let's get you naked. It will make it
easier."
"I don't know about this, Stacy. We're sisters after all. Isn't this
kind of illegal?" She didn't resist as Stacy pulled down her pyjama
pants, quickly followed by her sensible cotton panties.
"That's cousins," replied Stacy, pulling Tracy's top off over her
head. "There, all naked. Are you comfy?" "I guess," replied Tracy,
looking at her hands that just sat in her lap. "I don't think I'll
like this very much."
"You didn't seem to mind it when I went down on you in front of Coach
Baxter," said Stacy as she sat on the bed. She bent down and started
to kiss Tracy's breasts. She was pleased to see her sibling's nipples
harden under her ministrations, and gently teased them with her teeth.
"I just did that for you," said Tracy, trying vainly not to sigh with
pleasure. "I didn't get anything out of it."
"Oh you didn't, huh?" said Stacy looking up at her sister. "What about
the two orgasms you had?"
"I...umm..." There was no real answer to that. Instead she just smiled at
her sister. "Okay, show me."
Stacy gently pushed her back so that Tracy was lying on the bed. She
started to kiss her sister's breasts again, making them shiny with
moisture. "I'll show you what to do." Kiss. "Then you," kiss, "can do
it," kiss, "to me." She made her way down over her sister's belly,
trailing kisses as she went. She was secretly pleased to feel Tracy
wriggle in anticipation. Stacy positioned herself between Tracy's legs
and began to gently run the tip of her tongue over the swollen lips of
her sibling's pussy.
Tracy clamped her thighs around Stacy's head and moaned. She felt her
sister's tongue start to lap faster and faster and her head began to
wiggle and shake between her legs. As Tracy began to orgasm she
noticed that Stacy's whole body was shaking as well, and assumed that
she was also cumming. At last her climax subsided and she released her
grip on Stacy's head.
Stacy rolled away from her sister, gasping for breath. Her face had
turned an interesting shade of blue. "My God," she wheezed, "You
nearly killed me. I couldn't breathe in there." She looked up at her
sister to see that familiar flush on her face and breasts. "There,
that wasn't so bad now was it?"
"I must admit, I really enjoyed it. Thanks, Stacy."
"No need to thank me," said Stacy, lying down on the bed and spreading
her legs. "Just do me."
"Nope," said Tracy getting off the bed and getting dressed.
"Why the hell not? I did it for you, you have to do it for me," pouted
Stacy.
"No I won't, because I have a better idea." Tracy finished dressing
and looked at her sister.
"What idea?" asked Stacy.
"Revenge."
***
Clifford was nervous. Janet had declared that he was her new boyfriend
and this Friday she was going to show him off to everyone by throwing
a party. Clifford was amazed that she hadn't worked out that he was
not Raphael, the Italian Stallion, but Clifford, the class nerd. He
missed Tracy, she would have seen through this charade almost
instantly. Hell, even Stacy was smarter than Janet. He was presently
in bed, waiting for Janet to come back from the bathroom. He was sure
the only reason she kept him around was because of his dick. At nine
inches he was bigger than average, and Janet could not get enough of
him. It felt like every few minutes she was jamming his cock into her
body and riding him like a renegade cowgirl off to the rodeo. He felt
like a piece of meat to her, only good for one thing.
Clifford felt like a walking talking dildo.
He came to an important decision as he sat in bed waiting for Janet to
return. He was leaving. He could go back to being the class nerd. It
might mean he would never get laid again, but he thought it had to be
better than this. Maybe one day he could get Tracy back. He looked up
as Janet came back into the room wearing a black lace teddy and
carrying a small tube of KY.
"Raphael, I've decided I want you to be my first," she said, showing
him the tube.
"C'est?" asked Clifford. He had long since run out of Italian phrases
and was just winging it now.
"I said," she pronounced as she bent over, showing him her cleavage,
"I want you to be my first. I want you to fuck me in the arse,
Raphael." She waggled the tube in front of him. "Want me to lube you
up?"
Clifford decided to postpone his plans for leaving.
***
Stacy was in bed, and she wasn't alone. She was, however, having the
time of her life.
"Oh yes, lick my pussy. Oh God, that feels so good."
Suddenly the bedroom door burst open and Tracy rushed into the room.
"Stacy, guess what. Janet's throwing a party on Friday and Cliff is
going to be there. Now I have a plan that..." Her words were cut off as
she realised that Stacy had company. "Oh hi...er...umm...Willy." The last
time Tracy had seen Willy was when he was in the pool shed screwing
Janet. "It's nice to...umm...see you again."
"Hi," responded Willy, coming up for air.
"Oh Tracy, you should try him," gushed Stacy. "I have never met anyone
who could lick like him. All I had to do was spread a little dab of
peanut butter..."
"No! Don't tell me," demanded Tracy, "I don't want to hear it." She
grabbed Stacy by the arm and dragged her out of bed. "Come with me, we
have to talk."
"But I'm not finished yet," protested Stacy as she skidded from the
room, buck naked and dripping peanut butter.
Tracy grabbed a towel and thrust it at her sister. "Here, wipe
yourself clean. Now we have got to go to that party."
"Okay, it sounds like fun. I might even get laid. Scratch that, I will
get laid, a lot." She smiled at the thought of all that sex.
"No, there will be no sex, not until I get what I want." Tracy paced
up and down in front of her sister.
"And what exactly is it that you want?" asked Stacy.
"I want Clifford. And I want Janet to suffer for taking him away from
me."
"But didn't Clifford leave on his own? After you told him to leave?"
"I'm not interested in the facts, thank you very much. I just want
revenge," said Tracy, the rage evident in her eyes.
"Oh, well, that's different," said Stacy, her eyes lighting up." Count
me in. What's the plan?"
"I don't know," cried Tracy, collapsing on the lounge. "I can't think
straight without Clifford here. It's not fair. Why did he have to make
me fall in love with him?" Stacy was concerned. This was not the usual
sure-minded sister she had grown up with. Tracy had never been at a
loss for a plan. She had even planned out the time the Twins had lost
their virginity (to be told in a later story). Stacy sighed as she
remembered that day, the incredible sex the two young girls engaged
in. She sat down on the lounge and let her hands roam over her body as
her mind travelled back to that day.
"Stacy? Are you listening to me?" Tracy waved her hand in front of her
sister's face, trying to attract her attention. "Are you going to help
me devise a plan, or would you prefer to sit there and diddle
yourself?"
"Can't we do both?" asked her sister, a mischievous smile on her face.
"God, you're impossible." She took her sister by the hand and looked
her in the eye. "I really need your help, Stacy. I need to get
Clifford back."
"Ok, I'll do it," said Stacy, "for a price."
Tracy's shoulders slumped as she sighed. "How much?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. Let's just say you owe me, big time." She got up
from the couch and headed back to her bedroom.
"Where are you going?" asked Tracy. "We still have to devise a plan."
"I'm going back to Willy. I do my best thinking when I'm getting
laid."
"You must get a hell of a lot of thinking done then," muttered Tracy
to herself.
"What was that?" asked Stacy.
"I said you can't be serious. He must weigh 300 pounds," said Tracy,
gesturing to the bedroom.
"Sure he's fat," admitted Stacy, "but the boy can lick." She flounced
into the bedroom, turning to face her sister at the doorway. "You
coming?"
"I have to watch you two?" asked Tracy, flabbergasted.
"Well yeah. Someone has to take notes."
Tracy considered gouging out her own eyes as she walked forlornly into
the bedroom.
***
Tracy had seen some gross looking things before, but watching Willy
and Stacy screw had to top everything. At first it wasn't too bad, as
all Willy did was go down on her sister. He must have been pretty damn
good at it judging by the way Stacy was going off. But then Willy
wanted to get off himself, and seeing as he had put so much effort
into Stacy she felt obliged to let him go for it. After about two
minutes of lying beneath his monstrous weight Stacy suggested they
change positions. Actually Stacy had just waved pleadingly at Tracy,
because that was the only movement she was capable of, and Tracy had
smacked Willy across the back of the head a few times until he got the
idea.
After Willy rolled over, Stacy attempted to climb on top. It took her
a while to find a foothold in the glutenous mass. When she finally got
on top she considered planting a flag, but decided instead to plant
herself on Willy's dick. She tried to get a motion going but it was
like sex on a waterbed. Any motion she started quickly escalated until
she felt like an extra on the set of "Perfect Storm." She had to
stifle an urge to yell, "She's going down! Everyone into the
lifeboats!" Eventually, after a full five minutes of holding on for
dear life, Willy grunted and shot his load. Unfortunately for Stacy he
also bucked his hips, hard, and sent her flying from the bed. She
wound up lying against the wall upside down.
"Need a hand?" asked Tracy, offering her one.
"Thanks," replied Stacy, taking the offered hand and getting up. "Boy,
what a ride." She looked over to the bed and discovered that Willy had
passed out from the exertion. "Oh great, I killed him. Oh well, let's
go back to the living room. I think I have a plan for getting Clifford
back."
***
"I can't believe this is your plan," lamented Tracy.
It was the night of the party at Janet's house and the streets were
crammed with hordes of drunken, horny teenagers. The bushes were full
of naked bodies doing whatever they could get away with in the cramped
conditions. The neighbours had known about the party since Tuesday and
had developed a sudden urge to visit out-of-town relatives, or out-of-
town friends, or anyone, just as long as they were way out of town.
Janet's parties had developed a reputation and the police had cordoned
off the area for a six-block radius. Anyone over the age of twenty-one
left inside the blockade was considered to be suicidal and not worth
rescuing.
The twins walked through the maddening crowds towards Janet's house.
Stacy was wearing her usual party gear consisting of short skirt,
short top, long heels, underwear optional. Tracy looked anything but
typical. The plan devised by Stacy required Tracy to wear something
interesting, which turned out to be an extremely tight black leather
mini over a bright red g-string, white see-through blouse with no bra,
and thigh-high black leather boots with 5" heels that thrust her arse
out so far she could have been used as a bike rack.
"What's wrong with my plan?" asked Stacy. "You go inside, you find
Clifford, you fuck his brains out, then you leave with him. A plan so
cunningly simple it's bound to work."
"You're an idiot," said Tracy, shaking her head.
"I'm not the one in the see-through blouse and fuck-me boots," replied
Stacy.
"You're right. I'm an even bigger idiot." Tracy felt depressed. "I'll
never get him back dressed like this. If Clifford liked sluts he would
have been with you."
"Thanks," said Stacy, "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Of course you will," replied Tracy, feeling even more depressed. She
couldn't even insult her sister anymore. What was the point of going
on?
The twins finally reached the front door and walked into what could
only be described as an orgy. Nine Inch Nails blasted out of the
stereo as a sea of bodies got to know each other in many interesting
and varied ways. Stacy ducked under a flying beer bottle and made her
way to the kitchen, dragging her sister behind her. Just as they
reached the swinging doors a pair of ladies panties flew out of the
crowd and hit Stacy in the face. She pulled the offending garment off
her head, sniffed it, and hurled it back into the crowd.
"Tina!" she yelled. "You dropped something." She pulled open the door
and dragged her sister inside. The kitchen was a lot quieter than the
lounge room. You could almost hear the couple in the pantry having
sex.
"This is never going to work," lamented Tracy. "We may as well go
home."
"No way," said Stacy. "We haven't found Cliffy yet. Not to mention
that I haven't gotten laid." She put her arm around her sister. "Buck
up, girl, we'll get him back."
Just then the kitchen door swung open, letting a fresh blast of NIN's
"Starfuckers Inc" sweep into the room, along with Janet and Clifford.
"Tracy," whispered Clifford as he stood transfixed just inside the
doorway.
"Clifford," whispered Tracy, staring at the man she had come for.
"Christ," whispered Stacy, looking at the two of them. "Do I have to
do everything around here?" She grabbed Janet by the arm, steering her
away from Clifford. "Oh my God, Janet, did you hear?"
"Hear what? Let go of my arm." Janet struggled in her grasp but Stacy
held on like tassles on a stripper's tits.
"Miguel the Moroccan, he's at the party."
"Who or what is a Miguel?" Janet had decided that Stacy was clinically
insane. She wondered if Daddy still kept a loaded gun in the pantry.
"Miguel the Moroccan is rumoured to be the biggest guy in school,"
confided Stacy.
"He plays basketball?" asked Janet.
"No, not like that," said Stacy holding her hand above her head. She
pointed to her crotch. "Like that. He's rumoured to be over twelve
inches long." She smiled inwardly as a lustful grin spread over
Janet's face.
"Where? I wanna see. Oh. But what about Raphael?" She looked at her
new boyfriend who appeared to be just standing there, staring at that
slut Tracy.
"Don't worry about him," said Stacy guiding Janet out the door. "He's
a big boy, he can look after himself." As she entered the lounge room
with Janet she back-heeled the door, causing it to swing violently
inward and smacking Clifford in the back. He fell forward, into the
arms of Tracy.
"Umm, hi," he said.
"Hi," responded Tracy.
"I didn't expect to see you here tonight, what with you hating Janet's
guts and all."
"Yeah well, I thought I should get out a bit. Party and all that...
stuff."
"Oh. Partying is good, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess."
They stood there for a few minutes, just looking at each other.
***
"So which one is Miguel?" asked Janet.
"Oh he's... umm," Stacy looked around, trying to find a suitable
candidate. There was no Miguel, it was simply a ploy to get Janet away
from Cliffy. She spotted a likely suspect and pointed him out to
Janet. "There he is, the dark haired one in the corner. Come on, let's
go." She dragged Janet over to the victim. "Hi, Miguel, this is Janet
and she wants to fuck you."
"What?" asked a somewhat confused person. It was the last thing he
said before Janet dragged him into a nearby closet.
Stacy closed the door behind the couple and leaned against it, making
sure neither of them escaped. After about ten minutes, when the noise
inside had died down, she opened it again to reveal an agitated Janet.
"Are you sure that was Miguel the Moroccan?" she asked Stacy.
"I think so," replied the innocent looking twin.
"He's only half the size you said he was."
"Oh."
"And he said his name was Jim." Janet looked visibly upset.
"Umm, I guess I made a mistake," said Stacy, looking around the room.
A well-muscled blonde lad walked by and she grabbed him by the wrist.
"Here he is, this is Miguel." She pushed the blonde and Janet back
into the closet, making sure Jim managed to get out of the way first.
She slammed the door shut and leaned against it. She grabbed a bottle
of beer from a passing cooler and popped it open on the corner of an
expensive looking antique table.
"I hope Tracy appreciates what I'm going through," she said to herself
as she sipped her drink.
***
Tracy and Clifford were holding each other in the middle of the
kitchen. Tracy felt really good about herself for the first time in a
week.
"Why did you leave me?" she asked as she rested her head on his chest.
"Because you told me to," replied Clifford stroking her hair.
"I did not," said an indignant Tracy as she pulled out of his grasp.
"I told you to go home and wait for me."
"Oh, well I guess it's all my fault then, "responded an angry
Clifford. "I guess it was hard to hear what you said properly, what
with you fucking Coach and all."
"I had to do that. It's not like I enjoyed fucking him." Tracy
couldn't believe how mad she was with Clifford.
"Oh I could see how much you hated it when you started thrashing about
as you came."
"You fucking bastard."
"Bitch!"
"Prick!"
"Slut!"
They stared lightning bolts at each other, panting with the excess
adrenaline coursing through their veins. Then they grabbed each other,
kissing passionately as they started to tear their clothes off.
***
Stacy was starting to get worried. So far she had sent fifteen boys
into the closet with Janet, and not one of them had turned out to be
anything like Miguel the Moroccan. There was a fairly good chance that
Janet would end up screwing every guy at the party. Even worse, there
was a chance that Stacy wouldn't get to screw anyone. She felt the
door behind her open and another worn out teenage boy staggered naked
from the closet to collapse on the couch. Janet poked her head around
the door.
"I'm beginning to think there is no Miguel the Moroccan," she said
with just the slightest hint of exasperation.
"Of course there is, Janet. And here he is." Stacy grabbed a hapless
passer-by and threw him into the closet, closing the door behind him.
"Just what the hell are Tracy and Cliffy doing in there," she thought
to herself, looking at the closed kitchen door.
"Excuse me," came a voice from behind her.
"Yes," said Stacy, turning to find a somewhat nerdish boy standing
before her. She wondered how he had managed to get into the party
without being set upon by a marauding herd of jocks.
"Someone said that there was girl around here having sex with every
guy she could." He pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up his pimply nose.
Stacy stared at him, an idea slowly forming in her mind.
"You're right," she said, placing an arm gingerly around his
shoulders. "But these things don't come for free you know."
"Really?" asked the nerd.
"Really."
***
Tracy and Clifford were tearing the kitchen apart. Their near-naked
bodies - Tracy still had her boots on as they would have taken
precious screwing time to get off - were rolling and writhing all over
the floor. Tracy had her legs wrapped tightly around Clifford's hips
and was digging her heels into his butt, urging him to thrust harder
and harder. Clifford picked Tracy up and placed her on the kitchen
table, after sweeping a couple of plates of party snacks onto the
floor, allowing her to lie back as he humped her. She arched her back
and shouted encouragement to him.
"Yes, Clifford, fuck me, fuck me hard. Oh God I want to cum, make me
cum, Clifford."
Clifford was not about to disobey a direct order, especially one like
that. He doubled his speed, grabbing Tracy by the hips and driving
himself into her again and again, his feet scrambling for a grip on
the messy floor. After a while he gave up trying to get leverage and
climbed up onto the table with Tracy, kneeling between her legs. He
lifted her arse off the tabletop and started pumping again, making the
table rock beneath them. Clifford thought for a second that the
furniture might not be up to it, but quickly pushed it out of his
mind. All he cared about was being with Tracy.
***
Stacy was making a small fortune. She was charging $50 for five
minutes in the closet with Janet and had already made $500. She was
worried about not making enough money before Tracy and Clifford made
up, but she discovered she could throw three guys at a time in with
Janet and all three would come out satisfied. She wasn't sure how they
could see where they were putting what, considering how dark it was in
there, but she just had to look at the wad of cash to dismiss any
worries. As she was counting her money for the fifteenth time she
thought she heard a crash come from the kitchen. Stacy smiled quietly
to herself.
"Excuse me..."
"Take a number and I'll be right with you," said Stacy, pointing to a
ticket vending machine she had found in the corner of the lounge room,
next to a stop sign and a goat.
An hour later Stacy decided it was time to see what was happening in
the kitchen. She had made a thousand bucks and had just about run out
of desperate nerds, even the ones that had come back for seconds and
thirds. She tried to push open the kitchen door but something was
blocking it. Putting her shoulder to it she gave it everything she
had, pushing so hard that the tendons in her neck stood out like wire
cables. After five minutes of fruitless effort she decided to change
tactics and pulled it open instead. What she saw looked like Beirut on
a bad day. Cupboard doors hung open, their contents spilled
everywhere, pots and pans dotted the floor, and broken plates and
glasses lay everywhere. The place was a scene of mass destruction.
"Tracy? Clifford? Are you two alright?" she asked tentatively, looking
around for some sign of life. A creaking sound drew her attention to
the far side of the room where the refrigerator door was slowly
opening. She could see the pair inside, still coupled and panting like
greyhounds that had just done a few quick laps around Ayers Rock. They
were covered in food they had obviously tried eating from each other.
"I take it you two have made up," said Stacy, picking her way through
the mess.
"Yeah, I guess we have," said Tracy. "Haven't we, Clifford?"
Clifford just nodded. He hadn't managed to regain his breath yet.
"Could you get our clothes please, Stacy?" asked Tracy, pointing to a
bundle of clothing hanging from one of the open cupboard doors.
Stacy grabbed the articles and handed them to the pair before standing
back to let them exit the refrigerator. "So I guess this means we can
go home now?"
"Not yet, I still have to get even with Janet. I intend to get her
screwed by every pimply, sweaty, disgusting nerd I can find." She
turned to her sister. "Stacy? Why are you laughing?"
***
The trio slowly made their way down the front stairs of Janet's house.
Tracy and Clifford were together again, Stacy had made a small fortune
selling Janet's body to the school nerds, and the three were the
happiest they had been for nearly a week. The scene outside had calmed
down a bit from when they had arrived. Several dozen bodies lay passed
out on the footpath and one girl was wandering around naked calling
for someone named Jeff.
"Stacy! Wait up."
The three friends turned to see Janet running down the street after
them.
"What is it?" asked Stacy, hiding the money she had made that night
behind her back.
"I just wanted to thank you for Miguel the Moroccan. He was
incredible. I've never had such a big cock." She kissed Stacy on the
cheek before turning back to rejoin the party.
"There really is a Miguel?" Stacy started back towards the party.
Tracy looked at Clifford. "Grab her," she said. The pair grabbed Stacy
by the arms and started to drag her away.
"No, wait. I have to find Miguel. Let me go. Let me goooooooo!"
The End.
Stories now available at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/mr_slot/
Web site at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/mr_slot/www
It's always funny till someone gets hurt...
and then it's absolutely friggin hysterical
--- Running with scissors.
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