Timmy Turner's 13th Birthday Part II

BY : Wendell Urth
Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents
Dragon prints: 2752
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The Fairy Odd Parents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

Timmy Turner’s 13th Birthday Part 2.

This is a story for adults due to graphic sex. Hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: The Fairy Odd Parents and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.


It was a weekend that seemed to go on forever. “It was like magic!” Timmy thought, but it was coming to an end. The storm had delayed school openings and the return of his parents an extra day. But as suddenly as the freeze occurred, a warm spell had returned to Dimmsdale.

Timmy had finally heard from his parents. They would be home in a few hours. Time enough to change the sheets, clean up the remnants of their love making. And mourn the loss of each other’s company and what they had experienced that long winter weekend. Timmy’s 13th birthday.

Vicky and Timmy smiled at the shared memories. Here was the couch where they had first shared their love and bodies. The blanket from Timmy’s bedroom. Vicky inhaled from the fabric. His smell. Hers. Theirs. She wanted to take it home, but knew she couldn’t. The Turners might get suspicious, as stupid as they were.

Timmy wiped down the kitchen table. He could see the sweaty imprint of her body, her perky breasts, berry shaped nipples outlined. Her cum stained belly. A few beautiful copper pubic hairs. He had fearfully, then joyfully mounted her from behind for the first time, right here where his family ate mom’s unpalatable meals. For the first time in his life he found something to enjoy on that table. He didn’t want to clean it up, to erase it. But he had to. Even his neglectful parents wouldn’t stand for their love if they found out.

Vicky, for the second time in her entire life was using a washing machine. She never did anyone’s chores. She remembered just the other day, sitting on that same washing machine, vibrating during spin cycle. Timmy kneeling before her, tongue lashing her pussy as she mauled her breasts. Her legs over his shoulders. Kicking gently. Wash, spin, kick, rinse, spin, kick and fast spin, kick, kick, kick. They ran the same load through the washer three times. Then it was Timmy’s turn on the dryer. That had probably been the most well washed and dried laundry load in the history of Dimmsdale.

Then there was the downstairs bathroom. Vicky had never watched a boy pee before. It was exciting and dirty. Not the kind of thing a mature woman usually might want to see. She didn’t care… He wanted her to watch. He wanted there to be no secrets. It excited her. She gently took his prick in her hand, waved it around and sunk the toilet paper boat. They giggled. Flushed. Giggled some more. It was dirty. It was fun.

Later she had him stand on the seat, just so she could suck his balls for a few minutes while she played with her gently gushing pussy. Just for that. His balls were smooth, hardly any wrinkles. They tasted of heaven to her, because they were his. They had given her so much pleasure, they deserved a special reward. Timmy balanced by holding the top of her head. He came and they both fell onto the bathroom floor in a tangle of arms and legs, laughing the whole time as they tried to extract themselves. Her pussy was inches from his face – how could he not hold her down and enjoy a lick and tickle session on the bathroom floor?

Then it was her turn to show him her secrets. Fascinated and horrified at the same time by how the other hole up there worked. So dirty, so nasty. So much in love. She let him wipe her gently afterwards. They sat on the closed toilet seat and just touched each other. Resting from their sex for a while. Cuddling. Discovering again how much joy and pleasure they could find in the bodies of people who used to hate each other.

Somehow, they stumbled into a sauna that Timmy had no memory of, but it seemed designed for them alone (thanks to Jorgen’s magical generosity). They didn’t consider the impossibility of a sauna that seemed to clean itself when they left. She lay one last time on the rinse table while the pulsating waters did wonderful things to her back. He eventually kissed every inch, ever fold and crease, ever curve he could find. Her ass was firm and soft at the same time. Utterly delicious. He tasted her gently wiggling toes, her ass, something in his life he never would have considered. He needed to know her, he needed to know every inch.

She turned on her side as he lay down next to her. She was still taller than he was. Her hands, legs and even toes explored the world of Timmy Turner.

One last time. One last time he mounted her as she lay on her back, letting the steamy suds rinse over their bodies. He fucked her like he would never would see her again. She held him and rocked him. She pulled her legs up, straight, nearly tucking them behind her ears. He had no idea she was so limber. Her pussy was his entire world, his playground. So inviting! Just for his dick. Her cunt was an open invitation, a pink and red rainbow. He went deep. She screamed and urged him on. She called him every dirty, hateful word she could think of, every one she had every used in anger and begged him to fuck her. To drive his cock deep into her and ram her till she cried.

“Fuck me Timmy. Fuck me to death, Timmy Turner. God damn fucking shit, fuck me you little bastard. I can’t stand it anymore. Just fuck me till I cum, Timmy. Oh God, Timmy, you mother fucker. I hate you so much. It’s so good… So, fucking good!”

“You bitch! Take it, you fucking cunt! Take it, Vicky. I hate you so much, fuck you. Fuck, fuck, fuck you! You are my bitch, you fucking whore. I hate you! Forever! You belong to me! Only me.”

Those were their marriage vows.

Finally exhausted, they left the sauna.


Went downstairs.

Sat on opposite sides of the couch, but still holding hands. Each thinking of ways they could secretly meet and share what they had found.

Waiting for the Turners to arrive.

Vicky would have to go back to being the evilest babysitter in Dimmsdale. Her heart wasn’t into it anymore, but she had her secrets to maintain.

Timmy heard his parents busted-ass station wagon crash into the trash cans lining the driveway. He dropped Vicky’s warm hand. Momentarily, their fingers entwined. Back to being ‘the kid no one understands’. Back to being the butt of everyone’s jokes. Back to his life with his parents. Morons.

The Turners came home.



Somehow, some way, they will be together.

A young woman and a teenage boy. They will find a way to be happy.

She will be fucked. He will fuck her.

It’s only right.

If not in Dimmsdale, then somewhere else.

I don’t know where. I don’t know when.

I just know.

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