Troubles and Treats

“I’m sorry I ever said anything about your vagina being floppy. It’s totally not like f**king a sloppy joe at all! You feel so good baby!” I tell her as I continue to pound into her, sweat breaking out on my forehead with all the things I have to remember to do to keep the swing in place.

“Call me a tramp!” Jenny shouts as she lets go of the grip she has on one of the swing straps, slides her hand down the front of her body, and starts moving her fingers against her clit.

Fuck, best day ever! Even with the pervy ghost in the corner and my arm and leg muscles threatening to give out.

“WHO’S MY TRAMP?! WHO’S MY DIRTY HOOKER TRAMP?!” I shout as I pick up the pace and slam into her harder while her fingers move furiously over her clit.

“ME! ME! I’M YOUR DIRTY HOOKER TRAMP! PAY ME, BIG DADDY, PAY ME!” she shouts.

“I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU A SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT TIP, YOU DIRTY WHORE!”

“YES! YES! GIVE ME THE TIP! GIVE ME THE TIP!” Jenny screams.

I know she’s only a second away from coming which is a damn good thing because I can’t hold off any longer. My balls are about to explode like a f**king geyser.

“I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU A TIP AND LEAVE YOU SOME MINTS! YOU WANT SOME FUCKING MINTS, YOU LITTLE SLUT?!” I yell in excitement as she tightens her thighs around my waist, and I feel her orgasm rush through her and squeeze my c**k like a vise.

“OH MY GOD! GIVE ME THE MINTS! OH FUCK, I’M COMING! MINTS, MINTS, MINTS! YES, YES!”

She’s thrashing her head and bucking her hips against me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the swing from swaying, so I just hold on tight to the straps and thrust into her with all I’ve got, feeling my own orgasm tingle through my balls. I hear another creak, this one louder than all the others.

“YOU LIKE THAT, GHOST? HUH?! YOU LIKE BEING A PERVY CREEPER, JERKIN’ YOUR GHOSTLY GHERKIN?” I shout into the corner of the room.

Just as my orgasm barrels up through me and I start coming, I feel a hand on my ass and scream as loud as I can in fear while still plunging in and out of Jenny.

“EEEEEEEK! I’M COMING! HOLY SWEET AND SOUR CHICKEN, I’M COMING AND THERE’S A GHOST TOUCHING MY ASS!”

Mid orgasm, I reach back to swat the ghost’s hand off my ass and hear another creak, followed by a loud ripping sound and this orgasm feels so f**king good right now that I’m not really concerned with the fact that the pervert poltergeist is making so much noise.

While smacking my hand on my ass to keep the ghost away from it, I thrust as hard as I can one last time and the orgasm finishes so good it almost feels like I’m falling.

“OW! SON OF A BITCH!” Jenny screams.

I open my eyes and quickly realize that feeling of falling really was a feeling of falling. I’m sprawled on top of Jenny on the floor with my penis still buried in her and bits and pieces of our ceiling littered in chunks all around us. I reach up and wipe a bunch of white dust off of Jenny’s face and hair, and she ruffles her hand through my hair, dust and debris falling down onto her chest.

I crane my neck and look up at the giant hole in our ceiling.

“Wow, guess I should have secured that a little better, huh?”

Jenny just laughs and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me down to her lips.

“Let’s do it again. Go get the Skittles in the kitchen, a wooden spoon, and two containers of purple Play-Doh.”

Chapter 29 – Vagina Skittles

“Um, Whitney Houston, we have a problem.”

Jenny sits up on her elbows and stares down at me lying on my stomach between her legs with my face resting on her hipbone.

“Problem? What problem? I was almost there, keep going,” she complains, letting her head fall back to the pillows.

“Yeah, and that would be the problem. I can’t keep going, they’re stuck.”

Her head flies back up off of the pillow, and she slides her body up the bed until she’s resting her back against the headboard, my head slipping off of her hip as she goes.

“Stuck?! What the hell do you mean stuck?!” she screeches.

I push myself up onto my knees and point between her legs.

“Stuck, as in, probably not coming out anytime soon because it was too slippery and they just sort of, shot off, deep into the heart of Texas,” I explain with a shrug.

“I’m confused. Are you comparing my vagina to Texas? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asks, momentarily forgetting the problem at hand.

“Well, you don’t mess with Texas and everything is bigger in Texas, just like you don’t mess with your vagina and…”

She raises her eyebrow and glares at me.

“Your vagina is NOT big. Or large or in charge. Okay, it’s totally in charge but it’s not large. We will not be renaming your vagina Large Marge so don’t even give me that look. Your vagina is tiny and perfect and warm and cuddly, just like it should be,” I explain.

We had stared at each other for a few minutes and I wasn't not gonna lie, I sort of forgot about the problem for a minute while I stared at her. I had started crawling up the bed toward her when she reminded me.

“Wait, stop! What are we going to do about the Skittles stuck in Texas?”

Two months after the night of the sex swing crash and the “Taste the Rainbow” incident, Jenny and I are doing better than ever. It had taken a trip to the emergency room that night and a vacuum cleaner nozzle to remove the Skittles from the great state of vagina. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">