Anyone want a bedtime story?
This is an SMK Fractured Fairy Tale.
Once upon a time, there were two happy little spies. Their family was away for the weekend, and they had the entire house all to themselves . . .
Amanda bumped the door shut with her hip and shrugged out of her heavy raincoat.
"Lee?" she called, reaching for the closet door. "I'm back"
She paused, but there was no answer. Odd, he should have been home an hour ago. They hadn't gotten much sleep last night, between the rolling thunder, the patter of rain on the roof, and Lee's insomnia. Maybe he was just taking a nap upstairs.
Amanda swung the closet door open and reached for a hanger. The light switched on by itself, and she sucked in a startled breath when she glimpsed a red-ruffled flash. Gloved fingers grasped her wrist, but before she could scream, the striped nightmare in a familiar bright green wig enveloped her, jerking her inside.
As the door slammed shut behind her, Amanda saw through the greasepaint, past the bulbous red nose, and stared straight into blazing, lustful, hazel eyes.
Hey guys? Wait a minute. brb
Umm . . . I can't seem to paste the scene in.
Pause for screaming
Hold on . . .
I'm not sure, but I think accidentally deleted something, here. Oh, well . . .
Amanda staggered out of the closet an hour later, a silly grin stretching the corners of her mouth. Her blouse flapped open, and she tried to button it, but most of the buttons were missing. Giving her rumpled skirt a couple of good yanks to pull it down, she wobbled over to the sofa and plopped down against the cushions.
Wow. Lee was obviously over the whole "clown thing," and he'd taken the costume to new heights. The positions, the passion, the greasepaint. Never, in her entire life, had she dreamed a closet and a clown could be so much fun.
Slouching against the overstuffed pillows, the new computer on the coffee table caught her attention, and she prodded it on with her big toe. The blue glow transformed the living room, and in the monitor's reflection, she could see Lee drifting out of the closet with that same silly, satisfied expression she knew was plastered on her own face.
They'd have to find a place to put this thing. The PC at work was fine, but she felt vaguely uncomfortable with this one. It dominated the living room, and glared balefully at her.
With a groan, Lee slid down next to the sofa and rested his head against her legs. The red nose was gone, and his green frizzy wig flopped over one eye. With a smile, Amanda plucked it from his head and twirled it on one finger, before tossing it across the room.
Interest flickered in his eyes as he rested his warm hand against her bare stomach. He rubbed a slow circle, and then trailed his agile fingers across her breasts, to her shoulders. He pushed her tattered blouse out of his way, and knelt beside her.
"Not too tired . . . ?" she murmured as his tongue touched her nipple.
She arched her back to meet him, exhaustion slipping away as Lee suckled each breast in turn, his hands sliding down to push her skirt up along her quivering thighs. His lips trailed fire along each nerve, and she turned to watch him . . .
brb . . .
Wait for 30 seconds or several irate responses.
Back
And caught their reflection in the monitor's glow.
"Lee?" She pushed at his shoulders. "Um . . . wait."
He ignored her.
"Stop . . ." She pushed at the top of his head, interrupting the rain of soft kisses on her belly.
He took a deep breath and looked up with heavy, unfocused eyes. "Hmmm?"
Amanda stared at the computer. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I just can't do it, not here."
"Why?"
"I have the strangest feeling that someone's watching us. I just can't shake it."
Lee dropped his head in exasperation and rested his forehead against her hip. "Amanda, no one is watching us."
She looked--uncertainly--at the screen. "I just have the strangest feeling . . ."
Lee stripped off the blousy clown shirt and carelessly flipped it into the air. He pushed her skirt out of his way, and gently spread her legs. Amanda sighed as the striped cloth drifted over the computer screen, blocking the . . . . .
That's it, I guess . . .
I can't see anymore, something's blocking my view. Sorry
Start running. Change E-mail address. Assume a new identity.
The End
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.