Last Time in Lake Nipples…
Randall didn’t know what to do or what to say. The truth had broken him, and he was at her mercy. He owed her everything. He knew that now. And he was ready to give her whatever she needed to heal.
Esmerelda felt a surge of power as her repressed feelings transformed into currents of electricity that shot through every nerve ending in her body. Her breasts grew firm; her meat flaps, moist. She was ready to take what she was owed.
She shoved Randall towards the butcher block counter; he grabbed her hips and lifted her towards him. She ran her hands through the shaggy mane of chestnut hair she’d daydreamed about as a child, grabbing it firmly at the back of his head, pulling him into the first kiss she was able to feel.
They crashed onto the counter, sending platters of assorted pork to the floor, falling on a ham-filled six-foot-hero that cradled Randall’s back like a cushion. He kissed her deeply, then softly, letting his body relax underneath her curves, ready to pay for his sins.
“Randall Burningham,” said Esmerelda, her voice quivering with desire.
“I think it’s time for you to…
…pop my corn.
Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to find a seat, gird your loins, and say your prayers. It’s time to POP! THAT! CORN!
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Lake Nipples to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.