Synopsis
Erotic fantasy novel about a middle-aged single mom... who is a succubus.
Excerpt
[Scene takes place immediately after FMC has rejected a proposition for a threesome made by another mom at her son's preschool.]
I smile warmly at her, knowing that the effort is wasted. She will probably never be able to bring herself to talk to me again. Every time she sees me, there will be a neon sign flashing above my head that reads, “Rejected us for a threesome!!!” She’ll be embarrassed. Fun with sexual awkwardness.
Still, I try. “Have fun, though, and maybe for your 40th, you should ask for another guy in the bed?” I raise my eyebrows and try to transition things to naughty conspiratorial girl talk.
She laughs, avoiding my eye. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll go for that.”
“I think a lot of guys are afraid of the accidental helmet clang. What if you promise to keep them at opposite ends of your body, and give your husband the blow job end?”
“Helmet clang?” She giggles, pauses for a moment, and then starts laughing louder.
“Cock knock? Is that better?” I ask. “Low five?”
Her laughter cranks up a notch, and a few other moms glance over, smiling.
“Wang tango,” she squeezes out between giggles.
I am laughing too, the relief of the successful social transition adding fuel to the silliness. As the laughter begins to die down, one more pops into my head. I choke a bit, and whisper, “Wiener misdemeanor.” She almost falls off the bench.
We cackle like maniacs, tears running down our faces. Eventually, the laughter starts to recede, and she sighs to catch her breath. I look at her, our eyes meet, and we explode again into hysterics. Her attempts to hold in the giggles just make matters worse, and the laughter cranks back up higher than before. People are really looking at us, but there is nothing I can do to stop the laughter. It just has to run its course.
Sam comes running over. “What’s funny, Mommy?”
“Nothing, baby,” I answer, still hiccupping with laughter. “Miss Angela just told a funny joke.”
“What joke?” he asks.
“Knock knock,” I say.
“Who’s there?”
“Interrupting pig.”
”Interrupting p…”
I cut off his response with a loud snort, grabbing and tickling him at the same time.
