Playing with Dolls

Fred Grogan tucked the kids in bed and stashed the Halloween candy. Little Freddie and Kate had scored lots of treats dressed as tiny angels. His wife Jean wasn’t home yet and he’d figured on that. She said she’d stay for trick-or-treaters but Fred knew better. He withdrew into his workshop to be alone.

Meanwhile, in a bedroom a block away:

“Jean, you’re some kinda doll. What a handful of pussy you got.”

“You bet, you big fucking hunk of cock you. Do me before Fred gets home with the brats.”

“He doesn’t suspect?”

“Fucking wimp. He wouldn’t say anything anyway. You’re twice his size and twice the man. What’s that pencil dick gonna do?”

Jean’s neighbor stood over her tipped-up ass at the foot of the bed then entered her violently from behind. “How’s that, bitch? Want it hard?”

“Is that all? Harder, fucker! … Oh! Oh my god! Harry stop. … I’m bleeding!”

“Fuck? What’s wrong? Me too!”

An hour later, Fred’s phone rang.

“Mr. Grogan?”

“Yes?”

“County hospital, sir. It’s your wife. Massive hemorrhaging I’m afraid.”

Fred grinned and hung up. He brushed the ground glass from his worktable and placed the simply tied straw dolls in a drawer.


© 2013 Daddy X. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man. He’s survived the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and George W. Bush. He maintained good humor throughout Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, Haight Ashbury, North Beach, Castro Street, the Mendocino Coast, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, Hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of interferon, a stickup at his ancient art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, and George W. Bush. Now he’s old, and it’s time to get dirty. He’s been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with an epileptic 90 lb lop-eared hound (17″ wingspan) and two cats. They raise little green girls to medicinal maturity each and every year.

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