Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
But then the unexpected happens because I lose him inside. This can’t be happening. What the hell? I push a finger in there, trying to fish the toy out, but it doesn’t work. If anything, he just slips further inside and I fish around even deeper in a futile effort. He’s definitely in there because I can feel him vibrating away. Heck, I can even hear him vibrating, but no matter how I try I can’t get him out. Uh oh.
This reminds me of the time I had a tampon stuck inside that I couldn’t get out. It wasn’t fun. I didn’t even know it was in there, to be honest. I’d just made out with my high school boyfriend, and somehow, my tampon “disappeared” during our naughty escapade. I’d forgotten I had it in me, to be honest, and after we finished, I looked around the surrounding area with confusion. But there was no feminine product anywhere to be found. It was simply gone.
It was only when I got home that I fished around deep inside and realized that the tampon was still in me, just jammed really, really far up there. I practically had to use a chopstick to get it out, and after two hours of straining and pulling, finally I managed to pull out the thin white tube. By then it was a crumpled mess, just two inches long.
So this was just another case of the same thing, right? Except this time, it was a bullet stuck in me, and not a tampon. I sat up, breasts bobbling. I had to get this thing out. I lifted my knees so that my feet were flat on the bed and parted my legs, trying to fish out the blasted toy. No luck. If anything, I only jammed it in further.
Then, I tried doing it the back way. I got on my hands and knees and reached one hand between my legs, trying to catch that little sucker again. Still no go. It buzzed away, and I could literally feel it going deeper and deeper as I struggled.
Oh my gosh, was I going to die of septic shock? Was I going to be the woman in the morgue while the medical examiner tried not to laugh? After all, the ramifications were real. If I didn’t get this out, my body would have some kind of nasty reaction. I’d have to go to the emergency room and face the amused faces of the nurses and doctors as they tried not to laugh. And that was the easiest part.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. My mom married George years ago. He’s a doctor from Greece, and he’s hot. It was just a green card marriage, so they were never really into one another. But somehow, they pulled it off and fooled the immigration authorities. George got his green card after meeting all the requirements, and now they’re divorced.
But even though they’re no longer together, George still lives with us. Or more accurately, this is George’s house and my mom and I never moved out after the divorce. Frankly, without George, we’d have no place to go. My mom is still working as a cocktail waitress but she dialed her hours back after the wedding, and has been cruising along like a rich housewife. But there’s more to it because George is actually the one footing my college tuition bill; without him, I’d probably be a waitress on the Strip as well.
As a result, even though they’re divorced, my parents still live together in this huge mansion. I guess it makes sense. The space is enormous, and after I moved out, they had even more room. Plus, it’s not like the house has any bad memories because George and Victoria were never really married. When we moved in, my mom moved straight into the master bedroom, whereas my new stepdad took one of the bedrooms downstairs. I was going to live downstairs too, but my mom insisted that I occupy a room right next to hers. Okay, fine. I was headed to college anyways, so it was only going to be a few years of forced proximity at the maximum.
But now, I’m in big trouble and I wonder if my ex-stepdad can help. I throw on a robe quickly, my face flushed. At least while I’m standing, the hum of the toy is a little quieter, thank goodness. It still feels pleasurable, and I tie the sash tightly around my waist. It highlights how I’m slender in my middle but big up top and down below. I’ve always been a curvy girl. I have huge, pendulous breasts and a big bottom with plenty of junk in the trunk. Thank goodness that there’s an appreciation for girls who are hourglass-shaped these days because I couldn’t lose weight if I tried.