Honey Manip
by Mat Twassel
Copyright© 2024 by Mat Twassel
Fiction Sex Story: A walk in the woods, a frisky fawn, a root beer blowjob... Illustrated.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Fiction Oral Sex Illustrated .
We had Emma’s leftover veggie chili over rice for an early dinner, along with one of those Double IPAs and a salad I’d made of spinach, strawberries, and walnuts. “Wasn’t that great?” Emma asked as we set off on a walk. I’d promised to do the dishes later. “It was great,” I agreed. “But I wish I’d remembered I had that Boylan root beer.” I’d bought a bottle at the little grocery the day before. Emma hadn’t hesitated to tell me it was bad for me. “It’s got cane sugar,” I’d said, pointing to the label. “Honey would be better,” Emma said. “That would make it mead, I think,” I told her.
We’d gone not a dozen steps out of the house when we saw the fawn under one of the young apple trees. The fawn stared at us, stopping us dead.
“He’s so cute,” Emma whispered. I took out my phone and managed to take a photograph before the fawn bounded into the forest. I wish I’d had thought to click on video; no Disney animator could have made those leaps so frisky and yet so graceful.
We strolled quietly for a bit, holding hands, and at the clearing just before the woods Emma said, “Wasn’t that wonderful?”
“It was,” I agreed. “I just hope the coyotes don’t get him.” We’d heard them howling on recent nights.
“They won’t,” Emma declared. And then she set off down the path through the woods, leaping and skipping, her long hair flying, lovely as a little deer. Lovelier. And I didn’t think to take a picture.
“That was wonderful,” I said upon her return, after a long welcoming kiss.
“I need a shower,” Emma said. “A long hot shower and then an even longer hotter fuck.”
As we approached home, we slowed, both of us no doubt hoping the deer would reappear. He didn’t.
Emma went upstairs to take a shower and I, after taking a look at the dishes that could wait until morning, fetched the Boylan root beer from the refrigerator, and took a look at the photos on my phone.
A number of minutes later Emma appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “What are you up to?” she asked as she approached, and I snapped a couple of quick pictures.
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