Chapter 7: Visiting Val

Fred Puhl's Story Part 1

I suspect that the loyal readers of this erotic epistle are expecting more breast-beating contrition from the principals. It appears however that these apologies are not going to be forthcoming (or forthcumming either) so I will take it on my humble self to let you know what transpired subsequent to Irene's total capitulation to her fleshy desires and Joe's dominating dong.

First however I should tell you something about me. My name is Fred Puhl, This is the name my family has chosen after scientists gave us the long and unpronounceable name, Pulicidae. I won't go into extensive detail but we have been given a very bad reputation by our cousins, the Ceratophyllus fasciatus. They were the main transmitter of the bubonic plague, centuries ago, and just as Germans have been maligned because the acts of the few Nazis that ran their country, we Puhl's (or Pulicidae) have been branded as villains by our distant relatives. You may wonder about whom I am talking but you likely know me as a flea (part of the scurrilous assault on our breed).

Our race (if I may call it such) has not been especially distinguished if we ignore our major effect on the world through the spreading of the bubonic plague. (This may not have been a complete negative, however, since it set back the overpopulation problem by a couple of centuries and we are likely better able to cope with overpopulation today).

Now, after apologies etc. that match those of the principals of this tale, I must add a note of self-promotion. I have a famous ancestor. Unfortunately I don't know his name but I do know that he produced his masterpiece about 150 years ago. That could be a generational millennium for some members of my species but in my case, due to weather conditions, physical locations and (I like to believe) genetics, it was less than two handfuls. When I refer to my esteemed ancestor as Gramps you should realize that in fact he was likely only my Great x 4 Grandfather.

Enough of history. In Gramps' day it was normal and natural for members of my family to reside on humans. They were a reliable source of nutrition (mainly blood) and they usually provided more creature comforts (protection from rain and cold etc.) than cats, dogs and other potential hosts. But all that has changed.

I spent the early part of my life living on a dog, Caesar. It wasn't too bad since he was a farm dog and I didn't have to contend with regular grooming, baths and those killer powders and such that I've heard are common with the higher class city dogs.

I might have passed my life in that manner but for a stroke of fate. A young woman appeared one day and I deduced from the conversation I overheard while she was petting my canine host that she was a family member. In the evening it became apparent that the man who remained in the house after my dog's owners went out was the woman's brother.

Caesar accompanied the woman to the bathroom where she immersed herself in water and covered her body with a slippery, foamy cleaning substance. Fortunately she didn't try to do the same to my host.

Now my knowledge of humans is limited mainly to what I've learned from Gramps' story as it has been passed down within the family for many generations. It was obvious to my eyes therefore that this young woman was comely and pleasing to view. She looked warm and tender and I must admit that my mouth watered at the thought of living and feasting on her. And the feature that finally persuaded me to leave the comfort and safety of Caesar's short-haired pelt was the veritable forest of curly hair that covered the woman's genital area and extended upwards to her lower belly.

For me it was an easy jump from Caesar's back to the toilet seat and the further leap from there to the woman's firm, prominent ass was not difficult for a skilled jumper such as I. Comfort I knew I could look forward to but I never dreamed in my wildest imaginings that I would see things that rivaled Gramps' voyeuristic escapades.

We went from the bathroom to a nearby bedroom where the man I believed to be the woman's brother was lying in bed. It became obvious that I'd been mistaken in one of my beliefs. I'd thought that with humans, brothers and sisters did not copulate with one another. I leaped from the warm comfort of Irene's pubic forest and, from the headboard of the bed, I watched as the naked young woman mounted astride her brother's equally naked body. He expressed reservations about what she (they) were doing but he was definitely an easy rape who writhed and wriggled under his sister while she fucked him passionately.

The next day I went away, safely ensconced in Irene's (for that was the name that the man had cried out hotly as he discharged his sperm incestuously into the dark depths of the woman's body) warm, curly pubic forest. She had a roommate, another female, and there was a cat also. Three of my cousins lived on the cat but they said that life there was quiet.

The next day I met another man named Joe and before the day ended I had learned something more than what was in Gramps' tale. I had been dozing in the safe confines of Irene's groin while she sat and typed when I heard a harsh voice demand that she go someplace. I crawled through the forest up to her lower belly because her clothing prevented me from jumping anywhere. From there I was able to peek out under the waistband of her skirt and I watched as she walked up a flight of stairs and entered a small room.

The man I'd just met was there and I heard him say in a rather unpleasant voice, "Get on your knees Irene. I'm going to fuck that sexy mouth of yours,"

I wasn't sure what was about to happen and, although I wasn't afraid for my own safety, I decided that this might be a good time to escape the confines of Irene's clothes. By then she was quite close to the man who was leaning back against a large desk so I jumped. I underestimated the distance and ended up on the carpet. It was a real nuisance. I had trouble finding a good base from which I could jump to the top of the desk, my original target, and I had to make little hops around until I found a suitable location. It was a hard, flat place that the man's chair rolled on so I jumped first up onto the seat of the chair and then to the desktop.

By the time I got back to the front of the desk where Irene was the whole scene had changed. She was on her knees but I still couldn't see well so I leaped up onto the man's shoulder and from there I had an eagle's eye view. Irene was looking up and the expression in her big, brown eyes was one of adoration mixed with abject humility. In her hands she held a long, hard cudgel that dwarfed her brother's cock that she had so easily engulfed with her hairy twat.

I watched, totally fascinated as her mouth opened and she let the broad, purple knob slip between her lips. Joe had his hands in her hair (the hair on her head that is) and he hauled her closer, the thick shaft partially disappearing into her thick-lipped maw. "Glunngh... too deep," she gagged as she tried to pull away. "Deeper, bitch. You're going to take it all the way," the man said demandingly and he pulled her head closer again.

For a moment I felt sympathy for the woman who was so kindly (if unknowingly) providing me with living space for her eyes showed great alarm and she was uttering breathless, gagging sounds. But then, all of a sudden, the complete length of the man's cock disappeared into Irene's lip-stretched mouth and he groaned in blissful pleasure.