Year of the Dog

Samuel looked over his shoulder, and saw Myra standing in the woods. He slowed. She saw his hesitation, and coyly pulled the blouse off her shoulder. Samuel stopped compeletly, as she knew he would. The blouse came off, crumpling to the forest floor in a pink pile. Her breasts were upright, a little bigger than he remembered, her nipples pink and stiff. Samuel took another step towards her.

The gravelly voice came from her mouth as she said,

“I am what you lust after . . . ”

Samuel tried to pull his breath in as his feet reversed direction. He stumbled back, landing against a tree. Another large figure moved behind Myra. A large, fat, grotesque thing came up behind her and clamped a meaty, greased stained hand over her breast. She squealed, but instead of pulling away, she ground her backside against him.  Her mouth opened into the “O” shape Samuel knew so well.

“I am your gluttony . . .” the troll thing said. It thrust, Myra’s eyes closed, and bliss came over her face. Samuel slid off the tree, feet and hands sliding on last year’s pine straw. He moved through the woods, Myra’s moans chasing him.