Fux Tales

For Christmas Megan's boyfriend gave her a pillow. It was a medium-sized pillow, soft and plump, with a pattern of small swirls going this way and that. The swirls, Megan thought, resembled the footprints of a small animal.

Megan's girlfriend gave Megan a book. It was a medium-sized book with a soft leather cover. On the cover in gold lettering was the title. Fux Tales.

After having a cup of reheated Christmas Eve coffee, Megan lay down on the sofa with the pillow and the book. She placed the pillow behind her head and settled herself comfortably and opened the book. She began to read the first story.

Once upon a time there was a young fox. He was handsome as foxes go. He was also lonely. He spent his days writing poetry and roaming the fields, and he spent his nights yearning for love. One day while wandering through a meadow full of wildflowers he came upon a girl fast asleep. She was the prettiest girl the fox had ever seen. Cautiously the fox drew closer to the girl. She was wearing a purple dress the color of wildflowers. The flowers at the girl's breast rose and fell with her breathing. The fox stepped closer. Just as he'd thought: a honey bee had landed on one of the wildflowers. The fox worried that the bee would sting the girl right on the tip of her breast. Gently, so as not to provoke the bee, the fox brushed the bee away. His paw snagged the bodice of the girl's gown and dragged it down. The fox saw that he'd been too late. The bee must have stung the girl, for her nipple was swelling right before his eyes. The fox, with utmost care and tenderness, licked the swollen nipple, hoping to assuage the sting. But with each lick, the nipple fattened even more. Lick though he did, the fox could not make the swelling abate. And now he noticed the scent of wildflowers had increased seven-fold. He sniffed the fragrant air. The aroma seemed to be coming from between the girl's legs. The fox set off to investigate. He positioned himself between the girl's legs. Yes, the intoxicating scent of wildflowers was flowing from beneath the girl's gown. Carefully, cautiously, the fox nosed the fabric up and away, flapping it forward until the scent place was fully exposed. There he saw the most beautiful flower, with small, pinkish-purple petals, and above the petals a small pink bud. The scent, meadow-fresh, drew the fox closer. Now his whiskers tickled the girl's inner thighs. The girl's legs slipped further apart. The pinkish-purple petals opened, revealing a snug, pink cove glistening with dew. Certain this pellucid elixir would be more delicious than the finest honey, the fox moved closer yet, until his nose nudged that taut little bud at the flower's apex and his tongue touched the cove's honey-filled core. It was everything the fox thought it would be and more. No sooner had he taken the plunge deep into the heart of the girl's flower than he sneezed. He sneezed again and again, and a million cum-colored feathers floated all around. Firm as a fist, the girl's flower clamped Fox tight. Fox tried to escape, but he couldn't. His body was trapped by the girl's legs. His head was trapped by the girl's cunt. She had him. She held him fast. She squeezed him again and again, wringing half the life out of him. And then she bundled him up in her purple dress and stitched him in tight, tight, tight. Frantically Fox pawed and clawed, but to no avail. All he could accomplish was to leave a pattern of footprints on the fabric.

Megan set the book down. She sighed. She removed the pillow from between her legs, where somehow it had ended up. She got off the sofa and went to the bedroom where her boyfriend and girlfriend were fucking. "Are you almost finished with your Christmas present?" she asked. "I'm getting hungry."

story and illustrations by Mat Twassel
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