Here are two story fragments. Please enjoy. The first one is a willing cuckold type story. The second one is what it is.
SHORTCAKE
Hi there, my name's Dawn, but everybody calls me Shortcake. It's a nickname I'm familiar with and it really suits me, so please call me Shortcake as well.
Please bear with me, as I'm not much of a writer, though my hubby Paul disagrees. He told me to sit down in front of the computer and tell you my story. I agreed, so here I am trying to type something.
I don't feel very qualified to write this and post it on the internet, as I've said. There are some very good writers here and their stories are quite exciting. Mine will probably be very boring. I hope I don't sound too plain.
Also, I'm a bit overwhelmed. Paul is hovering around me and telling me what to write. I'm trying to accommodate all his suggestions, but I'm getting all confused. I'm having trouble concentrating. I'm sure this is going to sound silly.
I guess I should give you a physical description of myself to start with. I am a short woman, which is why I'm called Shortcake. How original. Anyway, I'm 5 foot, 2 inches tall, have long blonde hair down to my bum, large blue eyes, and a slim brown body. I am not a voluptuous babe, but rather a tiny thing with soft gentle curves.
Sometimes Paul says I'm delicate and beautiful, but then he gets all confused and can't explain himself any further. An old boyfriend said that I was a cute chick and he just wanted to hug the stuffing out of me. Another old boyfriend liked to carry me around in his arms all the time, like I was his baby.
I hope this gives you some idea of what I look like.
I'm a working class woman. I come from a working class family. I don't have the money to go travelling overseas, or buy expensive clothes, or live in a luxury home. I like to look nice and I try and take care of my appearance. I spend a lot of time grooming myself, so my skin is soft to the touch, my hair shines and I smell good.
Paul and I have been married for nearly six years now and we have two young children. My husband is a miner and he makes a good living. We have enough money to cover all our costs, but there is not much left over.
Paul has worked in Pennsylvania and West Virginia, mining coal when we were first married. Then we moved to Wyoming. Paul works in the Powder River Basin region. I won't tell you who he works for, if that's okay. We want to maintain our anonymity for privacy reasons.
My hubby is a good man. He works hard and he takes care of his family. We're not doing too badly. We believe in people, rather than money. We like to protect each other, rather than stab each other in the back for an extra buck or two and some position of authority.
Being a miner's wife has a few challenges. For instance, I am surrounded by big loud men. Paul and his friends are huge and I'm so small. They come home in the evening after work and their clothes are covered in dirt. They come stomping into my house, trailing a cloud of coal dust behind them. They are loud and clumsy. They slouch about in my armchairs, laugh and drink beer. They swear, cough, fart and carry on. They're so big and I'm so tiny. They're like giants. All I can say is oh wow, oh God and oh goodness.
This is the sort of thing I hear at home in the evenings:
"Shortcake, where's the beer? Can you go out and get us some more beer and burgers?"
"Shortcake, the boys are all here. Can you cook us up some chilli and make some of your mashed potato?"
"Shortcake, come and watch Dave and me arm wrestle. He reckons he can beat me and we have a bet going."
"Shortcake, the boss is carrying on again and won't give us our overtime. Can you go over there and sort it out?"
The requests are never ending and I'm constantly chasing these men about, or cooking for them, or fetching things for them. Sometimes, I have to yell at them and push them out the door if they're acting too rowdy. Or I have to take my life in my hands and stand between them when they are threatening to fight each other, out on the front lawn, after too many beers.
I never know what's going to happen next. Sometimes, Paul and his friends will show up in the early hours of the morning after a long shift. They come howling up the driveway in Paul's car and they're all drunk and loud - cursing at the top of their lungs and banging on the front door. I refuse to let them in and yell down at them from the bedroom window above.
Sometimes, they're all clustered around the television set watching the football and stuffing potato chips in their mouths and yelling at the TV. A few minutes later they are getting aggressive and are shoving each other about. They pick fights with each other, over the game. This is apparently a good enough reason for a brawl in my front yard. These men are crazy sometimes.
This is my existence: It has always been this way. My father was a big working man and so were all my brothers. My boyfriends were all big working men and so are Paul and his friends. These men are so helpless without their women. What would Paul do without me? What would his single friends do without me? I take care of all their needs. I'm really good at that. I've had plenty of practice and practice makes perfect, as they say...
I love these men and they love me. I crave them and they know it. I'm just lucky I don't have a jealous husband. I'm just lucky I have a husband who likes to share me around. I guess I should explain further, shouldn't I?
This is what my life is like: this took place just the other night.
I was dressed to please Paul. I was dressed to please any man who looked in my direction. I was dressed to cause erections. I was dressed to make men cum in their pants.
I don't want to brag and get a big head, but I'm a gorgeous little woman and I really look good when I dress up. The other night I was wearing my sheer top, my short tight skirt, my lace top stockings and my high heels. I had no bra on and no underwear on either. I had gotten my hair, nails and make up done.
Paul held me in his arms and stroked my face with his thumb. My eyes were lowered and I spoke softly. He placed his fingers under my chin and I looked up at him.
"Are you ready to spend the night with Tony," Paul asked me.
"Yes Paul," I replied. "I can go over there right now, if you want me to."
"Have you made dinner and fed the kids Shortcake?"
"Yes, there are leftovers in the fridge for your dinner. The kids are fed and in bed. I've also bought some bacon and eggs for your breakfast. All of the clothes washing is done and the ironing as well. I also got a chance to wash your car Paul."
"Good girl Shortcake, and you've eaten?"
"Yes Paul, I ate with the kids earlier and I'm all ready to go."
"Good girl," Paul said and then he continued. "Make sure you take really good care of Tony tonight. He's had a pretty bad day at work. I think he's a bit down about things."
"I'll take care of him Paul," I said. "I'll make him feel better."
"Good girl, Shortcake."
Paul kissed me on the lips and held me snug and tight in his strong arms. I was pinned to his big body. His cock was real hard.
"I can drive over there now Paul, if you want?"
"Yeah, okay Shortcake. I wouldn't mind sitting down and taking the load off my feet."
"Yes, you sit down and relax Paul. I'll drive over there right now," I said.
I kissed Paul goodnight. I then picked up my handbag and my car keys. I turned back to my husband. His eyes ran up and down my body.
"I'll see you tomorrow Paul," I said, smiling. I turned and walked out the front door.
