I Scraped the Green Frosting Off a Grape
take a long shower- It’s funny!
- I wonder if all the chickens and pigeons
- I fantasize about the hospital
- married 11 times to 9 different men
Tune in next time part 375 Click Here for Earlier Installments
I scraped the green frosting off a grape and looked at my wife. “Don’t you want me to at least take a long shower first?”
“You Americans are so hung up on hygiene,” she laughed. “It’s funny!” She guided my hand to my mouth and inserted the grape. Her lips parted and her breath grew heavy as she watched me pop the fruit with my teeth to release the wine inside. “More!” she cried, and shoved another grape in, this one still encased in sickly sweet icing.
For the next ten minutes Fleur fed me Inimical grapes, until I was quite drunk and she was quite breathless. My wife is lovely, and seeing her so aroused sparked my own desire. Despite my earlier protestations I found myself ready, willing, and able to do as she commanded.
“We must, of course, observe tradition,” she said. “I’ve been reading the ancient texts concerning the first sexual congress following the birth of twins, and it’s quite specific.” She stripped me of my new uniform and shoved me down onto a platter of grapes. The tiny fruits burst under me and soon I was laying in a puddle of their cold juice.
“I wonder if all the chickens and pigeons we need as witnesses will fit on the table,” Fleur said. “Or if we’ll need to pull another one over.” She doffed her gown while a string of chefs appeared, each carrying a live bird which he nestled onto the table around me. Contrarian rituals are often surreal, but this was beyond anything I’d seen before.
I tried to tune out the poultry, the glowering Harry and the rest of our audience, but it was difficult when Isolde was so nearby. She kept her eyes glued on my nakedness as she leaned her head toward Harry and said, hand on her stomach, “I fantasize about the hospital where I will give birth to our child, darling Harry. Don’t you?”
Harry growled.
Fleur climbed onto the table and stood over me as a crowd formed around us. The alleged clown spy said, in a heavy French accent, “I always thought the women of Contrarian royalty had to be married 11 times to 9 different men. Where are the other 8?”
Fleur’s toes tapped against my hips, imparting a coded message about her plan to thwart the clown.
bonus points for using them in order