The Inexplicable Reality - Sideshow Bob Pt.1 | By : Wendell Urth Category: +S through Z > Simpsons Views: 4077 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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The Inexplicable Reality of the Quantum Fetish Doll, Sideshow Bob Pt.1
This is the third in a series of stories about a fetish doll
Disclaimer: The Simpsons and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.
Prologue: Simpson’s Home
She stood in the darkness outside his door. Nervous. There was a fluttering in her stomach and a joyous anticipation that she could barely understand or contain.
“I’m going to do this. I really am!” she thought
Since the funeral, these thoughts had come over her… desires she didn’t understand. She had been stunned at first, but as a mother of three young children, she couldn’t afford to collapse into pity (though that was all she wanted to do, to hide from the world). But then… pain in her chest that disappeared as quickly as it came. Then, during the church service…
Unholy thoughts.
Immoral
She felt she was being consumed. And reborn.
Freedom.
Lust.
It felt so good to think about these things.
And how much better it would be to do them. So much better.
Her hair was down, she had worn it up for most of her married life, but no more. It cascaded in blue waves down her back to her ass, a few thick strands hung over her chest to her waist, barely covered her tits, nipples playing hide-n-seek through the loose tresses.
Speaking of her nipples... She had stopped breast feeding Maggie recently and regretted almost drying up. She raised a heavy soft breast to her mouth and began to suck gently, then with more force and was rewarded with a precious spurt of milk. “Good” she thought. A few drops clung to the nipple. She’d encourage him, soon she’d be producing again. For him
She brought both hands down to the thick triangle tangle of blue-black pubic hair. She tugged on the hairs for a moment, enjoying the small pain and pleasure. She spread her pussy open, reveling in the sensation it gave her as she exposed her inner being to the warm night air. There was that feeling she could not name as she began to grow moist, then damp. She spread the creamy foam across her labia, then brought a finger to her lips and rubbed them.
She was ready to sin the greatest sin she could imagine. Eager.
She wasn’t herself… she was someone else, something… better.
She opened his door, slowly.
He was sitting up in bed, his blanket over his head. She could see the light of the flashlight under the covers, reading one of his beloved comic books. He would forget about that soon enough.
“Bart, Bart dear.”
The light went out. No use trying to pretend he was asleep. “Busted…” he thought and pulled the blanket off. To say he was stunned doesn’t do justice to what he saw.
He’d seen glimpses of his mother naked body before, a flash of thigh, a nipple when she fed Maggie and hadn’t covered up in time… but never the whole picture, the whole wonderful picture. His mouth fell open and remained that way.
Marge smiled, leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Still in shock, he tasted something warm and strange on her lips (and also wonderful).
“Whoa Mom, what are you…?”
“Shhh, baby. Let’s not wake your sister. This is just between us,” she said as she held up a fat tit to his mouth. It wasn’t like feeding Maggie who was only milk hungry. Bart’s hunger was different. She felt her back arch as she began to express milk and he lapped it hungrily.
“Yes,” she thought. “This is just between us… for now.”
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