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Foster's World	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends Views: 4137 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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Chapter 9: Gifts From The Goddess ‘Happy Time’
Frankie felt the pleasure rising up in him. She knew what it was like to be a boy, to feel the absolute joy to have a thing between his legs, thrusting into a woman he loves, feeling her tightness expand and contract.
Mac shared the gift. He felt her joy at being filled, the pressure and release. The singing joy and pleasure her body gave her. He felt all that too.
Something was building inside his body. She shared it
Something was building inside her body. He shared it.
Their orgasm was an explosion. He came deep inside her. He filled her. She consumed him.
They were one single animal, united in their lust.
It couldn’t be better a second time. It was. The third topped the first two.
Mac had fallen asleep.
Frankie sat beneath The Willow, feeling sated and satisfied and wondering when Mac might wake up so they could do “that” again. It was her turn to name “that”.
We have so many words for “that”, sex, irrumabo, fucking, šūdas, plowing, kāph, copulation, seikō… oh, how the list goes on… and on and on and on.
She needed a word to describe how she felt, how he felt.
The choice was obvious, at least to her. “Happy Time Shared”. There was “Happy Time His” and “Happy Time Hers”, but mostly it was “Happy Time Shared”. That was the best!
Frankie & Mac would never need technical or scientific terminology. They would never need to worry about translations, inscriptions, didactic definitions, liturgical responses or lingua franca. Dirty words would have no appeal.
They were just moving from place to place, looking for a comfortable spot for some “Happy Time Shared.”
Days passed. They neither counted nor recorded them. There were warm days and wet days, days they fished, days they climbed trees. There were all kinds of days.
Mac and Frankie expanded the naming game. Mac found that he was good at counting. “One, two, three”… all the way up to “nine”. Frankie was even better because every time she counted to “nine”, it meant the same number of things. What comes after “nine,” you ask? Then came “another” which could mean all kinds of things, though Frankie and Mac always knew what the other person meant. Then came “another another” and “more another”, “many another” and so on. They were proud of this game. Counting fish in a pool? “another another”, “Bloo Wildbeasts” on a distant mountain? “another many another”.
The number of times 'Happy Time Shared"? Lets not even try to count.
They weren’t stupid, don’t for a minute think they were! They remembered everything they did, everything they saw, everything they learned in great detail. It just didn’t matter to them to count things or divide time into consecutive days and weeks and months. The Goddess had freed them from the grinding wheel of time.
Why should they count the days? “Remember the green stripy fish I caught in the blue pond?”
“Oh yes, the ‘trout’, that’s when you fell in the mud when you named the ‘Bannister Tree’ That was funny!”
Authors’s note: (Please don’t tell me that they should have called it a “Balustrade Tree”, I won’t put up with that kind of nonsense. Neither will the Goddess if you bring it up. That would make her angry. You wouldn't like her...)
Mac was always on the lookout now for Bannister Trees. Imagine an oak tree then ended in long, long straight branches almost touching the ground, without other branches or leaves on them. Uniformly 3 or 4 hands wide (that’s ‘Frankie Hands’, not ‘Mac Hands’, those are entirely different standards of measurement). The bark could be easily pealed off. After a night or two a sap would cover the branch which made it impossibly slick.
Mac and Frankie would climb the trees for just the pleasure of sliding down the Bannister on their asses until they dropped off. They planted Fuzzy Pillow moss at the drop off to make landings even better. And Happy Time Shared after a thrilling Bannister Ride was the best!
Friction still existed in this world and if the Bannister sap didn’t dry evenly… well a burnt scraped bottom was a consequence. Also, the branch had to be carefully examined for missed strips of bark. Frankie spent nearly a day pulling splinters from Mac’s ass. That was between trips to the nearby lake to cool her scraped burned behind which made Happy Time Shared a little problematic.
Paradise was fun, but you still had to watch out sometimes.
Frankie had been watching some small creatures build their nests in the Bannister Tree. Think of a cross between a chipmunk and a chihuahua with nimble little paws. She named them ‘Weavers’, they would scamper down the Bannister branches and scurry to the river and pull up small fronds to build their nests.
Frankie copied them with the biggest fronds she could find and created mats. She & Mac would use these mats on the Banister branches to avoid the scrapes and splinters. It also made the ride faster! Mac was so proud of her.
Mats could also keep the rain off at night. It never occurred to them to use them to otherwise cover their bodies.
Her stomach began to grow. It was so round now. He loved the way she looked with her slightly bulging belly. Sex was better too, now that they had learned new positions. Frankie on her side, Mack behind her one arm draped over her stomach. There was also Frankie on her knees, Mack standing behind her. He loved how her tits looked hanging down. And weren’t they getting bigger too?
Mac didn’t know what it meant, but he was in favor of the changes in his Frankie. He wished he that he would change too if it made her happy.
Frankie was concerned. For the first time she didn’t share her concerns with her Mac.
It bothered her.
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