Nathaniel Tower


Tobey Dibb didn’t meet his first slut until he was thirty-two years old and married. His mother had thought she was doing him a favor by sheltering him so, but it turned out that the fates did not smile upon Tobey or his mother’s protection. When he met that first slut, all decked out in a shimmering silver skirt and fishnet tights and six-inch heels—none of which Tobey had seen before—he was unable to control himself. He invited the slut over and she had him do things he’d never done before, including something with some sausages. It all felt so good, and Tobey of course had no understanding that he was doing anything wrong. He couldn’t even name the things they did together.
“You did what with what and whom?” his wife roared when she found out what Tobey and the slut had done.
He told her again, this time in more detail because he was certain she hadn’t quite understood. After all, he’d never done anything like this with her before, so it was feasible that she didn’t know what it was either. He even mentioned that they had done it right there on the faux leather couch, although Tobey admitted with a great deal of pride that he barely touched the couch while the slut’s face was practically implanted on the thing.
“I’m going to kill you!” his wife shouted when Tobey spared no detail in his second description of the day’s events.
“What’s the problem?” Tobey asked sincerely, but his wife obviously didn’t see things that way. She slapped him twice across the face and told him she’d cut off every appendage he had so that he’d never be able to get with a slut again.
Tobey continued to plead that he’d done nothing wrong, that it was all the slut’s idea anyway. “It’s really not that big of a deal,” he insisted. “You can even call her and ask her.” He handed his cell phone to his wife. “She’s number four on the speed dial,” he said proudly.
Tobey’s wife slapped the phone out of his hand.
“Hey, that phone is expensive,” he said.
“You are the world’s biggest ass,” she replied.
“I don’t need this abuse,” Tobey retorted. “Bambi didn’t abuse me.”
“Bambi!? The slut’s name is Bambi!?” Tobey’s wife seemed to laugh and scream at the same time.
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Tobey asked defensively.
“Bambi was a boy deer, you dumb ass.”
“I’ve had enough,” Tobey said. He picked up the phone and pressed down the four until it started dialing Bambi’s number.
As much as Tobey’s wife wanted to slap him, she restrained herself. She wanted to see where this was going.
Bambi answered on the third ring. “Hello?” she said in the husky voice that sluts often have.
“Hey, Bambi, it’s Tobey.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “You were right. I shouldn’t’ve told my prude wife about us.” He emphasized the word “us” like they had a lengthy history.
Bambi’s muffled voice muttered something.
“So, when can we do it again?” Tobey asked.
 Bambi mumbled something else to Tobey.
“Alrighty,” he said. “See you sometime soon then.” He hung up without waiting for her husky voice to respond.
His wife just looked at him dumbfounded. “So when do you get to see your slut again?” she finally managed to say.
“As soon as I make my cock bigger,” Tobey said. “Any suggestions?”
Almost on cue his wife kicked him square between the legs and marched away. As he dropped to the ground he thought of how good it would feel when he was with Bambi again. He couldn’t tell if his penis was growing at the thought of having Bambi propped against the couch or if it was just starting to swell. Either way, he hoped he could see her again soon.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.
  1. MM welcomes Nathaniel Tower with the very funny piece, that also says quite a bit about human nature.

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