Fifty Shades Shadier – Chapter Thirteen


I’m fuming over his nonsense, and becoming concerned over No-Longer-Little Mormon. I’d love to work off some anger at the gym, but that’s not going to happen in my current state. Maybe a bath will do.

I phone Bea on the way home. It goes straight to voice mail, so I call her office. Eric answers.

“How’s it going, Eric?”
“Fine. And you, Mr. Silver?”
“I’ve seen better days. Is she around?”
“In a meeting right now. She should be done around noon. Is it an emergency?”
“Um,” I hesitate, “no, not really.”
“What’s up?”
“Funny you should ask in such a way. I have a problem with two dicks.”
“Ooh, do tell!”
“The first dick–the larger of the two–is Bea’s ex, Chris. Know him?”
“I do, and you’re right–he’s a dick.”
“He’s trying to work his way back into her life by buying me off.”
“An incorrigible dick.”
“What you said.”
“And the other dick?”
“My own, actually. For the last hour, I’ve had petrified wood with no signs of ever bending again.”
Eric laughs.
“I’m not exaggerating … and, I have to pee.”
Eric laughs harder.
“I’m happy to amuse you.”
“Oh, shit, wait. Oh my god, that crazy woman. Did you take a little yellow pill today, by chance?”
“What pill?” I ask. I can hear Eric fumble around his desk.
No way.
“Ms. Plastique borrowed a few pills from me recently.”
“What sort of pills?”
Fuckity fuck bubbles. It wasn’t Ibu she handed me this morning. Great.
“Well, that explains it. Now, what am I supposed to do with this?”
“It says something on the label: ‘If your erection lasts more than four hours, call Eric.'”
“Very funny. And, why would Eric have such pills in his possession?”
“My mature boyfriend sometimes needs assistance, so we keep a supply handy.”
She fucking drugged me. She will be spanked.

“Now, I have to sit around for another three hours wondering what to do with this.” I pinch the swollen helmet. “Lovely.”
“You could hammer down loose floorboards. Pole vault? Ring toss? Masturbate?”
“Right. I’m going to unload a batch, soak in the tub, and hope for the best.”
“Need a hand?”
“No, Eric, I don’t need a hand; I have two. Tell Bea to call me the minute she gets out of that meeting.”
“Will do. Oh, and Mr. Silver?”
“I’m pulling for you … I mean with Ms. Plastique.”
“Thank you, Eric.”

Once home, I manage to pee through my turgidity without spraying the walls. I launch a quick batch. Still hard. I fill the tub and soak. My periscope points up at me, refusing to subside. She made me this way; it’s her duty to fix it.

I dry off, dress, and drive to Bea’s office. I park in the rear, climb into the back, and lie down.

Mormon Silver: I’m at your office, you naughty woman. Meet me out back when you’re done with your meeting.
Bea Plastique: Why?
Mormon Silver: You know why. Two hours now. I think I’m dying.
Bea Plastique: Don’t be so hard on yourself. ;)
Mormon Silver: Nice.
Bea Plastique: Wood you like to see me or not?
Mormon Silver: Oh, you’re a riot, Alice.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear the clicking of her heals as she approaches my Jeep. I’m still full tilt. She peeks in the passenger window and giggles.

“Oh, my.” She climbs in the passenger seat.
“You created this beast, now you’re going to help me get rid of it. Get back here.”
“My pleasure.”
“Wait. First, open my glove compartment.”
She does, and reacts like a kid opening a Christmas present as she pulls out my Fukuoku love glove.
“What’s this and why is it here?”
“That is a glove compartment, is it not?”
“Good point.”
“Bring it back here with you.”
“Yes, Uncle M.”

She crawls between the seats into the back and hands me the glove. She slides down her undies and opens my jeans.

“Oh, my!” she remarks at my steel beam, which is beginning to turn as purple as Prince.

I slide into the glove and turn it on low. She mounts me, Reverse Cowgirl style. God, what an ass on this woman! I reach around with my left hand and go to town on her clit as she lowers herself and grinds on my rod. She comes quickly when Uncle M wears the glove. I’m mostly numb, but enjoying it nonetheless. She fucks me so thoroughly that the thought of that other dick fades away … for the time being.

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Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.