Ruffles Has Ridges

WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and
contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or
reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a
sexual nature - do not read any further!

This story is for entertainment only.  It contains adult oriented
material. This is a work of fiction.  The acts and characters contained
within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact.  I do
not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here.  The
characters in the story are entirely fictional.  You need to believe
that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the
written permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed
with this notice attached.

* * * * * * * * * * 

About a decade and a half ago, my wife Harriett sent for tickets to a
popular television show produced locally and syndicated across the
country.  Every parent yearned to accompany their child to The Ruffles
The Clown Show.  Ruffles, whose outfit matched his name, wore a
multi-tiered ruffled shirt in bright white, baggy blue ruffled pants,
and wavy wild hair, plastic nose and artificial lips, all bright red. 
Patriotic and comical all rolled into one.  Viewers were probably
tempted to salute.  Oh, and of course huge floppy black shoes.

The show included skits where Ruffles would get into convoluted
situations with three sidekicks, Pappy, Slappy and Happy.  The trio
never came out on top, except if measured by the amount of seltzer water
or meringue pie they absorbed during the show.  And don't forget Flummox
Falls, a stream of thick green goop that would envelop one of the three
clowns at the end of the final skit.  The volume was so great that the
loser clown would literally disappear beneath the mound of accumulated
sludge.

Ruffles was the top dog and a mystery.  The identity of Ruffles was a
closely held secret until the performer retired, at which time a big
retirement announcement was made.  I remembered a series of such
unveilings covered by the news media, each just a few years apart. 
Every former Ruffles gave salutary speeches about playing the clown, how
it was an honor, and more blah, blah, blah.  I'd never heard of these
folks again, even though they'd 'retired' at relatively young ages.  The
physical demands of the role were significant, because Ruffles didn't
just walk around the stage.  He jumped, leaped, trampolined, cartwheeled
and tumbled from spot to spot.  I'd watched the show with Annie when she
was a child, laughing with her as Ruffles delivered pies and foam
barbells to his three nemeses.  Never once did Ruffles get gooped under
Flummox Falls.

Yesterday Harriett screamed when the mail arrived.  "Harvey!  We got
them!  We got them!"

'Them' was two tickets to the Ruffles TV show.  I rubbed my fingers
along the glossy full-color tickets adorned with Ruffle's face.  Now? 
"Aren't these fifteen years too late?  Who do you know that has young
kids?" I asked.

Harriett snatched the tickets from my hand.  "Oh no you don't.  After
waiting this long, we're not giving them away."

I wasn't considering them as a gift, more as a marketable and desirable
product.

"And we're not selling them either!" she added.

It was fortunate that Harriett was a good guesser and couldn't read my
mind, or she'd kick me out of her house for all of my extracurricular
sexual activities.  "You're not suggesting we go, are you?"

"Well, either you and I, or one of us and Anna."

I'd learned the hard way that when Harriett made up her mind, there was
no changing it.  "I'll call Annie and see if she's free."

My subsequent phone conversation with our daughter was short and sweet. 
"Are you insane?  That show is for kids.  Besides, I have commitments at
school.  Would you really ask me to skip classes and abandon homework
just to go see some clown-"

I cut her off.  "Message delivered loud and clear."

Her tone softened.  "Thanks for asking, Daddy.  I love you."  Click.

"Okay, so I guess we're going," I told Harriett.

She unclipped the envelope containing the tickets from the magnetic
fastener on the fridge.  "They're taping Monday the twentieth."  Then
she looked at the huge flat calendar.  "Oh no!  I won't be back from
Philadelphia until Tuesday."  She grabbed the enclosed letter of
congratulations from the envelope and jumped onto the phone.  I heard
only her side of the conversation.  "Yes, I'd like to exchange two
tickets for the Ruffles Show-"  "No, I don't want to return them and get
back on the list.  We waited fifteen years for these."  "Yes, we're very
happy you sent them to us.  It's just that I have a conflict with the
date and I was hoping-"  "I wasn't planning on selling them, thank you
very much, so whether or not that's legal doesn't matter.  Can't I
simply exchange them for another-"  "No, I don't want to return them."

Harriett slammed the received so hard I thought the wall-mounted phone
would rip off.  "They kept telling me how oversubscribed the show is,
and that I should be grateful for getting any tickets at all, convenient
or not.  Evidently they have a waiting list for the waiting list, in
case any tickets are returned."

"It's the old supply and demand.  Too bad it took so long-"

Harriett wasn't done ranting.  "The nerve of them, accusing me of doing
something illegal."

"So I guess we're not going."

"I'm not, but you are."  She crossed her arms.

"Why me?  Without a child or a spouse?  I'll stick out like a sore
thumb."  I recalled a skit where Ruffles smashed an oversized hammer on
Pappy's finger and it blew up like a balloon.  Because it was a
flesh-colored balloon, the kids in the audience screamed when it
exploded, until Pappy showed that his hand was intact.  For that 'thumbs
up', he got a round of cheers that lasted forever.  Then Pappy vanished
under Flummox Falls.

"Because we're not going to waste these."  She waved the two tickets in
my face.  "That's why."

---------------------------------------------------------

Although the shows were shown in the afternoon, they were filmed in the
morning, when the kids were fresh.  And energetic.  And loud.  I could
barely hear myself think as I stood in line outside the studio, behind a
row of factories in an industrial park.

When I got to the head of the line, the mother and son ahead of me
walked forward, each clutching a square pillow they'd been handed. 
Rather unexpected.  I stepped forward to take their place next to the
ticket taker.  He held out his arm like a railroad gate.  "Where's your
kid?"

"She's in college and had a conflict.  Why, am I prohibited from
attending the taping because I'm a single male?"  I hoped he'd say yes,
because then I'd go home and watch a porn flick.

"No, just strange is all."

"So is waiting fifteen years to answer a ticket request."  I couldn't
help but make a snotty remark.

He looked me up and down.  "We're popular.  Can't help that."  He
punched my ticket so it couldn't be used again.  From a box beneath his
stool, he pulled out a purple pillow with Ruffle's image on it.  Then I
understood.  Ruffles the Clown seat pads as a gift to audience members. 
"Makes it more comfy to sit in the bleachers."  Before he passed back my
ticket, he pulled a sticker from his pocket and applied it to my ticket.
 "There, you're a special guest.  You'll get a tour at the end of the
show."

"Really?"  I smiled.  Maybe I'd get some kind of gift too.  There was a
Toss The Beanbag game for prizes, but that was for kids, not grown-ups.

Some guy in a sports shirt and slacks came out to prep the crowd.  He
was boring as hell, telling us all to cheer when the APPLAUSE sign came
on over head, and to laugh as much as we wanted.  He told us that the
show we'd be participating in would be taped for later broadcast, in
about two weeks.  Before he could say anything else, Slappy and Happy
surrounded him, pulled out seltzer bottles and doused him with fizzy
water.  The audience erupted in laughter, perfect preparation for the
announcerÕs voice, which bellowed, "Who makes you laugh, boys and
girls?"  Without prompting, we all shouted "Ruffles!"

Ruffles came out to enthusiastic applause and cheering.  The double back
flip didn't hurt.  His voice had an electronic tone, as if it was being
run through some kind of synthesizer.  That disguised the actor and made
every Ruffles sound alike.  Quite high tech.

Ruffles must have studied gymnastics or something close, because every
almost pratfall turned into a handstand or cartwheel or backflip. 
Ruffles was extremely agile and in great shape.  No wonder the turnover
was so high.  The job must have been exhausting.

The skits began.  The first was Ruffles cooking in a kitchen.  He was
interrupted by Slappy and Happy, who offered their help but only
hindered the process.  Pappy was missing in action.   The choreography
for the skit seemed off, as if Pappy's absence made a material
difference,  Maybe the repertoire of funny plays were designed around
four participants.  With only Slappy and Happy joining Ruffles, none of
them would work as smoothly.

After the cooking skit came a cartoon, a retread that I'd watched when I
was a child.  I laughed all those years ago, and it still struck me as
funny.  When Annie had watched, we'd seen the cartoons full screen.  So,
playing the cartoon for us was a courtesy.

Dancing spotlights singled out a child for the Toss The Beanbag game. 
The little girl was successful in getting a beanbag into four holes but
missed the fifth.  She walked away with an armful of Ruffles-branded
products: a game, a stuffed animal, a puzzle, juggling balls, license
plate frames, pot holders, galoshes, a t-shirt, stickers, a pillow, a
ukulele, a flashing button and a spice rack.  Ruffles merchandising
income must have been a windfall!

Another skit performed by the three, this time in a wood working shop. 
Rubber hammers and saws, foam two by fours accidentally slammed against
clown's heads.  The kids around me all laughed. Maybe I was past the
appropriate age, but the skits seemed uninspired and juvenile.  Boring,
to be honest, despite their slapstick nature.

Just as Ruffles announced the Big Contest, my seat cushion began to buzz
and smoke and vibrate.  I jumped to my feet.  "We have our volunteer,"
he said.

Huh?  I was no volunteer, just a victim of a malfunctioning cushion. 
And then it dawned on me.  I was a 'special guest.'  That jerk ticket
taker had given me a rigged pillow, for this precise purpose.

Ruffles raised an arm in my direction.  "Let's give him a big round of
applause."

Spotlights shone in my face, blinding me.  Slappy came up the aisle,
took my hand and led me down to the stage area.  It felt much smaller
than it looked from my seat, which was still generating smoke.  I was
closer to the cameras as well.  It dawned on me that, in a couple of
weeks, I'd be seen by thousands of people.  I smoothed down my hair,
which tends to get kinky with moisture.

"What is your name?" asked Ruffles.

I noticed that the clown's mouth wasn't synched to his voice.  Was
Ruffle's voice dubbed?  "Harvey."

"You must be skipping work to be here, Harvey.  Want to wave to your
co-workers?"

I let my arm hang, so Ruffles took hold, raised it and thrashed it back
and forth.  I didn't think that was funny, but the audience laughed.

Ruffles directed me to an area off to the side of the stage.  "This is
the Big Bucket Race.  On the count of three, we will full our buckets
and see how much water we can carry from this barrel to those."  We
stood next to a green barrel full of water on one side of the set.  Two
destination barrels waited on the opposite side, one red and one blue. 
Slappy gave me a red bucket and slapped me on the back.  The bucket fell
from my hands.  More laughter.  Happy stood with an oversized starter's
pistol.  "Ready?  Set?"  Happy pulled the trigger and a flag reading
'BANG' popped from the gun.

Ruffles was already at the full barrel, loading up on water.  He
casually sauntered across the stage.  I ran to the source barrel and
dunked my bucket.  But when I lifted it out, water drained through holes
in the bottom.  The audience howled with laughter.  I was set up to
fail, and wasn't very happy about it.  An aluminum bowl from the kitchen
skit was a few yards away.  I scampered over and grabbed it.  The camera
wasn't expecting my movement and spun wildly to keep me in the frame.  I
filled the aluminum bowl and ran past Ruffles, who hadn't noticed I'd
switched.

When it sunk in that I was going to make this competitive, Ruffles
changed his demeanor completely.  Instead of walking slowly, Ruffles
made a mad dash to fill his destination barrel.  We both ran back,
slipping on the smooth wet floor.  We tussled as we both tried to fill
out buckets for another cross-stage race.  Standing face to face, I was
startled by Ruffle's bright green eyes.  I'd never seen eyes that color
on anyone.

My pause gave Ruffles a head start on the next stage traverse, except
Ruffles slid and fell on his ass while I made it across and dumped my
load.  The next time, I took a spill, which put even more water on the
ground.  Both of our shoes sloshed as we ran through the puddles, trying
to best the other.

When Happy blew his whistle, Slappy took a final measurement.  By a
fraction of an inch, I'd lost to Ruffles.  He moved to the Winners
Circle while I was placed in the Losers Square.  I heard a rumble above
my head.  Oh shit!  Flummox Falls was directly above me.  I took a step
but Happy and Slappy pushed me back.  The goop fell.  It was heavy
enough to hurt as it landed, first on my head, then my shoulders.  The
stream was cold and relentless.  I fell to my knees as the green sludge
buried me.  I shivered, gasped for air, pushing it away from my face so
I could breathe.  I heard the show's closing theme song and Ruffle's
"See ya' next time, kiddies"  trademark closing line.  Finally, someone
yelled, "We're off.  Help that guy, huh?"

A pair of stage workers ran to my rescue with spatulas and rags, wiping
the muck from my face.  My clothes and shoes were ruined.  A young man
walked over and handed me a flat plastic bag.  "This should cover your
cleaning and replacement costs, plus something for wear and tear. 
Thanks for being a good sport."  There was a check inside with Ruffle's
smiling face in place of the account owner's information.

"Have you ever done this to an audience member before?" I sputtered.

"Nope.  You're the first and only.  Pappy was scheduled to lose and get
gooped, but he's off sick.  One of the concierge picked you out as a
good candidate and a good sport."

He thought I was a good sport?  More like a complainer.  I was tempted
to prattle on about a lawsuit.

The stage worker guided me towards a double door.  "We've got a shower
you can use, and some clothes you can wear home and keep, as souvenirs."

I shook my arms, throwing goop onto him and the other employees.  They
weren't expecting that, from their expressions.  "Lead on."

I departed the stage through the doors, down a corridor, and past a
series of dressing rooms, one each for Ruffles, Pappy, Slappy and Happy.
 Further down was a men's bathroom.  "There's a shower in here, plus a
bathrobe.  Your souvenir clothes are in Pappy's room.  Thanks again." 
He stuck out his hand.  I agreed to shake, putting green goop all over
his fingers.  He wiped the stuff off on his pants and went on his way,
as if this was an every-day occurrence.

I stripped and put my soiled clothes in a huge zippered bag.  Maybe
Harriett had some miracle detergent that would retire my shirt and pants
to wearable.  Maybe there was a Ruffles-branded solvent that was
successful against green goop stains.

Warm water dissolved all of the green goop, which flowed off as easy as
it flowed on.  The heat of the spray brought my body temperature back to
normal.  I combed out my hair and wrapped myself in an official Ruffles
bathrobe, with the clowns picture on the back and his name on one
breast.  The corridor was empty as I changed locations.  Pappy's
dressing room door was unlocked so I went in.  A dish filled with
Ruffles candy adorned his well-lit make-up table.

The sound of running water surprised me, since Pappy was absent from the
show.  I peeked around the corner into Pappy's private bathroom.  In the
glass shower was a woman, naked.  Short hair, almost like a boy's, but
definitely not male.  God, she had a nice body.  Small but perky tits, a
great ass, and from the looks of it, she'd been working out.  My cock
began to react.  I was embarrassed, being a voyeur under these
circumstances.  Maybe one of the production folks decided to use the
shower.

I put on the sweatshirt and sweatpants, both with Ruffle's name and face
as decorations.  The shower stall went silent and the young woman walked
out, rubbing her head with a towel.  With her arms up, her tits pushed
forward, nipples small and pert.  What was she doing in Pappy's dressing
room?  His daughter?  I didn't even know if he was married.  Hell,
people can have kids and not be married.

The woman pulled the towel from her head and opened her eyes.  She saw
me and screamed.  While she struggled to drape the towel across her
chest and crotch, I stared at her large green eyes.  The only person I'd
ever seen with eyes like those was- Shit, Ruffles was a female.

Her eyes were wide.  "What the hell are doing in here?  I thought
everyone was gone."

I pointed at the door.  "Some guy had me shower down the hall and told
me to get dressed in here."

"My, uh, the women's shower was broken so I decided to use Pappy's.  But
I thought I would be alone."

The ruffled shirt had effectively hid her small perky tits, and the
baggy pants had disguised her feminine hips and cute round butt.  It
needed to be said, so I said it.  "You're Ruffles, aren't you?"

"You must be mistaken.  I'm just one of the assistants-"

I pointed.  "Nope, it's you.  I'd be able to pick you out anywhere, by
those eyes."

She hugged the towel.  "Shit!  I knew I should have worn the colored
contacts.  They're really rough on my eyes, you know."  She glowered at
me, eyes piercing.  "Okay, how much?"

"How much for what?"

The towel waved in front of her.  "To keep the secret.  You know what
would happen if this got out?"

That Ruffles the Clown was a woman?  What's the big deal?  "Uh, no?"

"The show would be called the biggest lie of all time."  She stretched
her arm to make the point, and then remembered that she was exposing
that fabulous body of hers and covered back up.  "The ratings would
drop, the sponsors would flee, and the show would go off the air.  And
the merchandising?  Forget it  That's what!"

A whole lot more serious than I'd imagined, but then again, I'm not in
show business.  With that last towel wave, it was clear that - what's
her name - was.  "I won't say anything."

"Oh yeah, sure.  You say that now."  She moved closer.

My cock was hardening on its own.  The front of my sweats became a bump.
 "I promise."

"Not good enough."  She looked down.  Damn, she'd seen it.  "I've got an
idea.  You have my secret.  I'll need one of yours, to make us even." 
She rubbed the towel across her body.  Fleeting glimpses of tit and
pussy kept me at a full erection.

"Like what?"

"Like this."  She slid the towel down slowly until her breasts peeked
over the edge.

I didn't believe what came out of my mouth.  "Maybe I should just go-"

She dropped the towel and pressed herself against me.  Her hips danced
against mine.  "Ooooh, we can share this secret.  You wouldn't mind,
would you?  You seem ready enough."  She dropped to her knees, pulling
down my sweatpants in the same motion.  "Oooh, that' s a big one.  I'm
going to enjoy this as  much as you are."

I was completely confused.  How would having sex make any difference? 
All I knew was that Ruffles the Clown was licking and kissing my cock. 
"I'm really sensitive, so if we're going to do anything else-"

"You know it!"

Ruffles looked up at a Ruffles clock on the wall.  "Everyone is gone by
now.  We're on a tight budget." With all of those commercialized
products?  I wondered if Ruffles was tight.

She stood up, pulled up my pants, put on her robe, and dragged me from
the dressing room back down the hall to the stage area.  It was
completely dark except for one emergency light.  "Wait here."  She went
to a panel at the side and fussed with some controls.  A spotlight fell
on the winner's and loser's areas.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing of consequence.  Just keep those horny thoughts."  She dragged
me to the winner's circle and threw the robe open.  My cock jumped at
the sight.  "Now you."

"Really?  Here?"

"Yes, and quickly."

I pulled my robe open and let it fall to the floor.  She heaved it a few
yards away.

"Now, hold me in your arms."

The touch of her skin was possibly the most exotic thing IÕd ever
experienced.  Not because she was gorgeous or because her skin was
flawless and unblemished.  She was a virtual stranger, someone with whom
I'd shared less than a dozen sentences.  And here we were, naked, and
obviously about to- I heard a familiar rumble.  From above, green goop
descended.  Oh shit!

Without clothes to dull the impact, the goop stung on contact.  My whole
body shook.  I groped for her, as much for warmth as for sexual
pleasure.   Ruffle's tits rubbed my chest.  The goop was too slippery
and she slid from my grasp.  My feet slipped out from under me and I
fell into the growing green mass.

"Come back here," she shouted.

"I'm trying."  I had her wrist but couldn't hold on.

Her hand emerged from one of the waves of green slime and found my hip. 
"Feel it?  Isn't it marvelous?"  She got both arms around me and clasped
them together.   She rubbed against me, the goop acting as a lubricant. 
Her body heat was the only thing keeping my teeth from chattering.  We
slid to the ground as the stream of goo piled on.  Her mouth was on
mine.  We breathed as one, through two noses.  Her hips sunk onto mine,
my cock rubbing the crease of her cunt.  "It's just like on a water bed
only green and slimy."  She giggled into my mouth.

"And cold!"

A bit of goop got in despite our locked lips.  I spit it away.

"Don't worry.  It's non-toxic.  Had to be, for a kid's show."  She pawed
her way through the goo to my penis.  "And itÕs a terrific lubricant." 
And with one hip lunge, she'd mounted me.  "So, you're not going to pass
up a chance to fuck Ruffles, are you?"

Nope, I wasn't.  I slid her under me and humped.  It was impossible to
get traction, my knees and legs sliding all over.  She took charge,
pushed me to sitting Indian style and plopping down on my lap,
undulating her hips to give me a world-class in and out experience. 
"Ooooh, you're so hard.  The last guy, well, he got distracted.  But you
sure know how to concentrate."

It wasn't difficult, with her talented hips doing all of the work.  Her
legs wrapped around my waist.  She hung on tight, but the goop prevented
a firm grip.  I grabbed her ass and pulled her close, but my hands kept
sliding off.  And then I figured out how to take advantage of the
lubrication.  I let my hands take a tour, all over her body.  face,
tits, hips, ass, thighs.  The goop let my fingers massage her with ease.

"Ooh God, oh your hands, where are they going?  What are you doing? 
Ohhhhh!"

Her hips went ballistic, shaking like tires on a rumble strips.  I
pressed forward and concentrated one big spurt.  My cum would be merely
a drip in all of this other slimy material.  We tilted over, the green
goo slowly cascading off our bodies.

Ruffles let out a huge sigh.  "You're the best Dad I've ever had."

Not only was Ruffles popular, she was bit of a loose clown.  I wondered
how many audience member's members she'd had to make that comparison.

She stood, green blobs and streaks decorating her cute body  "I think we
need another shower."  She danced over to the control panel, wiped off
her hands on a clean cloth and hit some buttons.  A disk popped out of
the side.  She nudged it into a plastic sleeve.

"What's that?" I asked.

"My insurance.  Our performance, recorded for posterity.  But
undisclosed as long as you keep my secret."

My turn to sigh.  I wasn't going to tell anyway, but the possibility of
blackmail turned my stomach.

The goop had provided excellent lubrication for my cock.  I swiped my
finger through a patch of green on my chest.  "What is this stuff,
anyway?"

"My invention, actually."  She smiled and handed me my bathrobe.  "I
have a masters degree in chemistry and this stuff was my dissertation. 
One of the show producers read about it, got in touch and wanted to
license the commercial production for the show.  They hired me to
implement and supervise."

"Very nice."  Her luck and her sexy little body.  "So how did you go
from Goop Supervisor to Big Clown?"

"Back in college, I was on the gymnastics team.  First place in our
conference in both my junior and senior years."  She picked her robe off
the floor and slipped it on.  As she stretched her arms into the
sleeves, her perky tits with goop-colored nipples pushed forward.  "So,
when the second previous Ruffles retired, I positioned myself as a
logical successor."

She certainly knew how to position herself for deep penetration.

"I'd never be able to take one as big as yours without my
carrageenan-based lubricant."  She blushed.

Sexy and smart.  Too many positive attributes for a long-term
relationship.  Besides, she was a star.  We were just poking fun with
each other.

She took my hand in hers.  "Come on, Daddy, we can use Pappy's shower. 
You can wash my back."  She skipped, forcing me into the hop-step
motion, like two kids on a date.  Except we weren't kids, we'd just
fucked, and we were coated in green stuff.

In Pappy's dressing room she untied my bathrobe belt in preparation for
our joint shower.  My joint was perking up at the proximity of her tight
and athletic body.  She stroked it once, a terrible tease.  Our robes
had gotten filthy with goop on the insides.  Under a steady stream of
hot water, Ruffles cleaned up nice.  Fruit scented liquid soap
substituted for green goop lubricant but allowed me to give Ruffles the
same hands all over treatment.  My prick returned to fully erect as I
washed her body.  Standing behind her, I enjoyed drumming her nipples
through my fingers and slipping my fingertips along her pubic ridges. 
She arched her back and swayed her hips.  It was a silent acknowledgment
of a second engagement.  She moaned as I took her one more time from
behind, this one in private and with a lot more control.

"Oh God, deeper, fuck me deeper."

I pulled her hips to mine, bucked forward and made my second deposit of
the day.  Maybe there was a Ruffles Bank someplace.

The water began to get cooler, so we toweled off.  We continued to
examine each others' naked bodies as she put on street clothes and I
pulled on my Ruffles sweats.  She slung a fanny pack around her waist
and clicked it shut.

We left PappyÕs quarters and paused in the hallway.  "You want some
souvenirs?"  She opened a closet door.  "You can have anything you'd
like."

The shelves of the walk-in room were overflowing with Ruffles branded
merchandise.  I looked deep into her eyes.  "I've got my memories of us
together.  That's enough."

She closed the gap and pulled my head lower so she could kiss me.  Soft,
passionate, genuine.  "How sweet."  She paused.  "But I'm not giving you
the DVD."

I shrugged, grabbed a Ruffles-branded laundry bag and filled it with an
assortment of goodies.  Things I could strewn around the house to remind
me of my discovery and my conquest.

Ruffles reached into her fanny pack and pulled out a ticket.  "Here,
take this."

Ruffle's image and the lettering were printed and embossed.  It looked
like the Golden Ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I
wondered what having sex in melted chocolate would be like.  Besides
brown.  "What's this good for?"

"Privilege Pass.  Let's you come-"  She giggled.  "Not that you have a
problem in that department.  LetÕs you attend any show.  Most of the
other Dads never take advantage."

I'd taken advantage twice.  ÒIÕll think about it.Ó

"I hope to see you again," she said.  "No joke."

###

An Original H M Tale 

I'm always interested in reader feedback.  Tell me what you think via email:
harveymarcus9@comcast.net
Copyright (c) 2011, HarveyMarcus.  All Rights Reserved.




