Of Dinosaurs and Round Bottoms

Ka-boom! Splaaat!

The loud report from my gun was followed by the sound of the falling beast, his mighty fangs snapping a few inches from my nose. It twitched a little and died. Its open eyes were looking at me accusingly.

I looked at my gun guessing that I was lucky I had it at hand when the medium sized T-Rex came from our yard's bushes charging at me clearly intended to have me for a pre-lunch snack. It was a strange gun. Its muzzle emerged like a trumpet's cup from its barrel. All in all it looked as a musket from the middle ages.

I examined the large beast at my feet and decided that I would keep it as a trophy. I grabbed its long tail and pulled it behind me directly to our kitchen.

My wife wasn't very pleased when I dropped my load on the kitchen table. "What do you think you're doing?" she screeched wriggling her hands in her apron.

"Silence, woman!" I told her firmly. "Prepare the stuffing. I'll stuff this beast and we'll hang it over the fireplace. It will be an excellent chat subject."

"Stuff me from which end?" asked the dead beast.

"Through the arse of course," I answered it.

"You're insane!" protested my woman. "I don't have enough ingredients to do the stuffing. It must weight a ton!"

"Who you calling fat?" protested the dead one.

"Shut up, fatso," I told him gently. "Get to work, woman, or it will be your arse that will be stuffed." I produced from somewhere a crop and agitated it through the air.

"Hear! Hear!" cheered the Rex.

"Shut up!" bellowed my wife while drawing a sword. "Come here if you're a man." This was directed to me being the only one in the room able to claim being a man. I looked warily at the sword, it looked sharp. I answered to the challenge by raising the crop.

We started to fence around the table. I crossed my crop with the sword and weren't completely surprised when the leather implement was cut in half and I remained with only a sorry stub in my hand.

With a triumphant cry my wife advanced on me fully intended to put me out of my misery.

"You'll be truly and utterly screwed, my friend," commented the uncouth beast on the table.

"Ha!" I replied drawing my own sword. I did have one, a strange thing to have hanging from your waist when you are wearing T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops.

I crossed my weapon with my wife's and in a flash I managed to send her sword flying through the air to embed itself into a pudding cooling on the window sill.

"I didn't know you were cooking my favorite dessert, dear," I told my wife while swatting at her escaping rump with the flat of the sword.

"You're welcome, honey," she answered hiding on the other side of the table behind the dead T-Rex who was wiggling his tail. "You know you shouldn't have killed the beast, they are an endangered species."

"Who you're calling a beast?" whined the dead one.

"They aren't endangered, dear," I explained while running around the table trying to swat her buttocks, round and appealing in the skin-tight cut-offs. "They are long dead and gone. This one's a chimera."

"Who you calling chimera? I was a dragon!" bellowed the dead beast and to prove his claim it released a pitiful flame followed by a burp of smoke. The beast really started to look like the She-Dragon from the Shrek movie.

The demonstration was enough to stop my wife in her stride allowing me to reach her. I aimed. I swung. It connected.

"Aiiiiii!"

I opened my eyes.

My wife was lying at my side rubbing her shapely backside clad only in her powder blue panties. She was using one of my over-sized shirts and the afore mentioned panties, her favorite night dress.

"What was that for?" she asked

I tried to explain.

"I knew it," she told me not too gently. "It's Alzheimer. Old age coming. You weren't asleep for more than thirty seconds. She rolled over me trying to smother me with her generous breasts naked under the shirt. I fought back. During the fight somehow I lost my underwear. Her panties followed.

Fifteen minutes later or twenty, who was counting, we emerged from under spent and gasping.

"You know, if you want to spank me or make love to me, you don't have to concoct loony stories, just do it."

She squealed when I reversed her over my knees, her pink round and ravishing ass pointing to the ceiling. I raised my hand.

"I know," I told her.

From the kitchen table the T-Rex-She-Dragon winked her beautiful lashes at me.