Artie 01 - Sex Stories

Artie 01

... Artie?"

"Oh, I didn't think that I was going to have to explain the birds and bees to you today, Nate, because we're secluded enough behind the cotton candy machine for you to figure that out for yourself!"

Huh, he understood that well enough!

[Mwah, grip, smooch, dig count that paper, smack, smack, this booty is not going to the grave, smooch]

"Bah, bah, bah, um, hey there, hey, Nate!"

[Mwah, count, count, count, count, squeeze, squeeze because counting is overrated, squeeze]

And I still didn't what his challenge was! But I knew Nate knew how to kiss back!

"Oh, you don't think that I was going to challenge with you with something that you could throw, do you, Artie, huh?"

"Nate (breathing heavily), all I know is that your playpen has a pulse and I'm not complaining!"

[Attacks back, smooch, hump, grind, smooch, throw me on the ground right here, smack, smack!]

"Ahem! You two are up! (Tee he, in more ways than one, tee he, lucky ass SOB). And we're burning daylight, so, um, tee he, one more quick grind and let's get a move on!"

LOL, Renaissance festival workers in renaissance garb outfits, right? Oh, the bar wenches are cool and all, of course, but the overweight dudes in fur, tee he, not so much.

And I still didn't know what the challenge was, but there was a 50-50 chance that I could win the challenge, right? Because if I didn't win (gulp), I might finally lose something on my couch as I clean up the sandwich plate! Which I promise, I'm so ...

... ready for. Gulp.

And then I did know what the challenge was. Gulp.

[Smoothly pulls back the bowstring, aims, releases, swoosh, zip-zip-zip-zip-zip-zip, whap, twang!]

"Hah, red-yellow and only because the low sun was in my eyes! Your turn, Artie."

[Fem grunts, grr, not so smooth of a pull back of the bowstring, looks, pokes self in eye with thumb, releases, whoosh, wobble, wobble, wobble, wobble, um, the arrow landed safely somewhere way, way, way over there, so, it's okay folks]

"Oh, I guess my arrow went right through the target, Nate, so, that's a point for me!"

[Way, way, way off in the distance at the festival]

"(Ouch! Damn it! Medic! I have an arrow in my ankle!)"

[Smoothly pulls back the bowstring, aims, releases, swoosh, zip-zip-zip-zip-zip, whap, splinter, twang!]

"Hah, I split my previous arrow, boom! Your turn, Artie. Oh, and that's Playtime 2, Bitching Out 0."

[Grunt, strains to pull back bowstring, closes eyes, wipes lip gloss with thumb, releases, whoop, whirl, whirl, whirl, whirl, pop, pop go the Mylar balloons over the cotton candy machine and um, the arrow kept going until it safely lands, um, somewhere way over there, so, it's okay folks]

[Safely way over there in the far parking area of festival grounds]

"[Clunk, plunk!] honey, I think a bird just flew into our car while you were parking."

[The hubby is convinced that an arrow in the rear door is not a breed of bird and frowns]

"Yay, my arrow stuck in something, so, ...