Author's Note: Thanks to Krissta for her work in editing this whopping tale for me! This one was a little hard to categorize, so please bear in mind that although I put it in Nonhuman, it could easily have fit into Erotic Horror too. Also for forewarning, it has elements of First Time, Romance, Anal and Sci-Fi/Fantasy. It's also an entry in the Halloween contest, so please remember to vote! I hope you enjoy it.
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My name is Larry Howard. About two months ago I was sitting in my bedroom at home, slowly coming around to the idea of taking out the magazines from under my bed and giving the old shotgun a few pumps, if you know what I mean.
I know, I know. Magazines, Larry? In this day and age?
Well, I was eighteen and I'd yet to finish school or move out and you would not believe the lengths to which my parents would go in order to keep me away from anything that remotely resembled breasts. My mother had become pregnant with me when she was sixteen and had decided she didn't want me to repeat her mistake. That's actually how she put it too. "Repeat her mistake." Oh yeah, my parents are real class acts.
So my computer got regularly checked for anything resembling porn, and I got a reminder every day about how much internet history she wanted to see. Deleting it? Nope, couldn't sneak that past her. Plus, my dad built computers for a living and had all kinds of little programs for invading my privacy. I once tried to type "vaginal diagram" into Google for my biology homework and my computer screen turned black with the word
Busted!
flashing in block capitals at me.
After that, we had a long talk about my life choices and I privately decided to move out as soon as humanly possible.
In the mean-time, I snagged the low-tech option of my magazines. Nothing gross of course. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things they have on the top shelf these days. One had a picture of a woman hugging a giraffe in a way that I don't think I should elaborate on.
I'd settled for some of the less-terrifying choices and stashed them under my bed. If there was ever a place that I could keep my parents away from it was under my bed. They saw it as a barren wasteland of hastily-shoved-together mess filled with memories of my lost childhood. I saw it as a barren wasteland of hastily-shoved-together mess I occasionally stuck my arm into before yanking out something random and declaring something along the lines of, "My Gameboy! Sweet!"
In any event, despite my parents' archaic views on teenage sexual impulses and their annoyingly tech-savvy monitoring of my online activities, they had no clue about the magazines under my bed. In fairness, given the state of things under there, they would have had to clean out the entire thing to find out where I slid those images of fleshy treats. My old teddy bear, Mr. Splodge, marked out the spot. (I'd turned him to look away, of course. I'd grown up, but Mr. Splodge remained a constant, if slightly ruffled, youth and things such as my masturbatory aids weren't for his eyes.)
I was thinking about those magazines and notably the image of two particularly sexy blondes making out in front of a large fireplace when the phone rang. Dammit. I rolled my chair across the floor to reach for the receiver.
"Hey Larry, you alright?" My mother's voice settled in amongst a crackling of traffic. She was in her car.
"Yep." I slowly rolled back over to my bed and lifted the covers with my foot to see the vast assortment of crap hidden beneath.
"Is your dad home yet?" She asked.
"Nope." I ducked down to look under the bed for the familiar sight of Mr. Splodge's head.
"Ok, well I'll be home in about half an hour." She phrased it almost like a warning.
I'll be home in half an hour, then you'll speak to me in full utterances young man!
"Cool. I'll see you then." I blandly added.
"Alright." Click. No traffic sounds.
I hang up the phone and crawl down to reach for my prize. I'm knelt there for five whole seconds before the phone rings again. I sigh with frustration, pick myself up. and snag the receiver once again.
"'Lo?" I venture.
"Larry, is that you?" Dad this time.
"Yup."
"Oh." A slight pause. "Is your mother home?"
"Nope. 'Nother half hour, she said." I'm back down on my hands and knees, reaching for the gold once again.
"Alright. Are you ok?" My parents are terrified of sex, but they're also terrified of anything happening to me too.
"No, I'm being attacked by a unicorn. Help! It's getting glitter on me!" I dryly replied.
I heard my dad stifle a laugh.
"Alright mate. I'll be in at about ten to." I glanced at the clock. Ten to five. That'd be three quarters of an hour.
"No probs, see you then."
"Bye." Click.
I hung up and left the receiver on the floor beside me. A little to the left and...bingo!
I tugged the magazines out from the heaving mess and grinned to myself as I threw them on the bed. Then the phone rang.
I looked up at the ceiling. I'm not normally the religious type but right then I was definitely asking the big G if he really wanted my balls to explode or not. I picked up the phone.
"
Yes?
" My voice was less than cordial.
"Larry?" The voice at the other end of the line seemed unsure of itself.
"Oh hey, Mrs. Taylor. What's up?" I asked, suddenly turning away from my stash.