Thanksgiving

You know, I wish I had known about that Applebees’s Writing Contest last year! I really think I could have won first place, too. I could sure use that dinner for two at Applebee’s. I write romance novels for men, but men don’t need a whole novel. We just need half a page. I’m going to read you my favorite story. It’s called “Thanksgiving.”

The wine was cheap, the turkey was dry, and Scarlett was tired of pretending not to notice Jeff’s mullet.  Of all the guys to be set up with.  And on Thanksgiving, the most romantic holiday of the year.

Ugh. Scarlett couldn’t take another bite. “I’m gettin’ the pie,” she muttered as she started for the kitchen. “I’ll help,” offered Jeff, looking at her with sex eyes. They went into the kitchen. She began to remove the pie from the box, when she felt Jeff throbbing beside her. There was a slight breeze coming in from the window above the sink and as Jeff turned towards her, the long hairs from the back of his mullet were swept up and ever so slightly grazed the side of Scarlett’s neck.

She gasped. A wave of electrifying heat went through her tight body. Their eyes met. Scarlett decided to give Jeff a chance, so she took her off her panties. “Motorbutt me,” she said, putting her booty on Jeff’s face. “Now do me all over the kitchen.” Jeff happily obliged. “Wow. You’re such a good listener,” Scarlett sighed.

After they boned, they ate pie. It was the most delicious pumpkin pie Scarlett had ever had. And the wine tasted so expensive now! Jeff flipped his long healthy hair over his shoulder and fixed his eyes on Scarlett’s titties.

No one had a headache and everybody wanted to do it again, but there was no pressure to do anything right or be clean. Then they watched a monster truck rally on TV and did it all over the couch and floor and Scarlett loved it. She said “Wow. I loved it! Let’s go outside where there are flowers and other nature.”

Then Jeff rode Scarlett off into the sunset.

Fin.

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