This is a very random perverted Thanksgiving story. The idea came from a mashup of playing Fallout Shelter and seeing the Thanksgiving decorations around my office. Being Horny is a pretty effective creative catalyst. Enjoy!
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I had left the house on foot around 11 for a late breakfast, if you can call Starbucks breakfast. I'm not a coffee drinker and had no desire to sip on an 800 calorie hot chocolate but being Thanksgiving day I wanted to eat light before I gorged myself that afternoon. The plan was to keep my fast until dinner but the whiskey in my system from last night still had my head buzzing and told me otherwise.
Entering right after a rush of patrons I exhaled in exasperation surveying the very long line. I decided to grab a seat and wait it out. Fortunately most of the patrons were grab and go, and their orders were simple. I unlocked my phone and with a heavy swipe scrolled through my apps for something to kill the time. The last in the list was Tinder. I had installed it about a half a year ago when I was pissed off at my then girlfriend. Thinking back It was just a gesture of defiance, an attempt to make myself feel in control. However, I had registered, uploaded a decent selfie and generated a bare minimum profile, just enough to get me swiping.
I quickly made it through my free swipes for the day as the line dwindled down. It was about 50/50 a lot of attractive women but many weren't my type. It didn't really matter anyway, just some eye-candy to kill the time. For my very last swipe the picture that popped up made me blurt out a laugh, catching the attention of few nearby patrons. I tilted my head back automatically as if what I was seeing couldn't be. It was a picture of a happy looking cartoon Turkey giving a thumbs up. At the bottom of the picture was it's name, I assumed, The Gobbler... Just like that with three dots following the title. I chuckled again, softer this time, and swiped left, glad to support chaos in the system. The line now down to just a few people, I pocketed my phone and stepped into the frey.
I wondered how that slipped past the admin's, it was pretty obvious. I laughed to myself, again, at the absurdity and placed my order. The Barista said it would take a few minutes, everyone else was getting coffee and they were so busy those customers had to be taken care of before they were able to prepare any food. I walked to the corridor at the rear where the bathrooms were to wash my hands. Making the corner, the figure I saw startled me. I froze for a second, unable to hide my staring.
The woman standing at the end of the corridor near the bathroom door was gorgeous, but her outfit had to be a joke! Her hair was parted in the middle and made into two long braids that fell over her ample chest. She had a feathered headdress on, not Carnival big but big enough, with dark mascara, red paint lines under her eyes, like a Navajo warrior, and full lips painted a bright yellow. An elaborate feathered choker was wrapped around her neck from collarbone to chin, and she wore a tight, light brown Pocahontas style dress with feathers dangling from the edges. Despite the single shoulder strap her outfit clung tightly to her bosom and narrow waist, then tapered out accentuating her full hips. Her calfs were bound in in rawhide sandals, that wrapped around all the way to her knee, and perfectly matched her lips.
She looked at me with a big smile, seemingly oblivious to how out of place her outfit was. I couldn't help but do the same. She was certainly a sight to be seen...but she was also probably crazy.
She must have lost a bet. I tried to maintain a poker face, not wanting to hurt her feelings. If she wants to dress like that out in public, I could care less. But I was surprised by her demeanor, she didn't look abashed or feel compelled to blurt out an excuse for her dress, she just kept smiling at me. I gave her a nod along with the smile already plastered on my face, acknowledging her eye contact out of courtesy, opened the door to the single occupant restroom and stepped in. As I began to close the door, she pushed on it forcing her way inside with me. She was surprisingly strong.
"Uh..What are you..." I started.
"Did you 'Like' The Gobbler?" she said in a sultry voice, and stepped closer to me.I took a step back, and she followed with another closing the distance between us. I felt the restroom wall press against my back, I had noticed in the hallway her hands were completely empty, of purse or flint knife, otherwise I think apprehension would have overpowered my intrigue. Her face was inches away, brown eyes staring into mine, our chests almost touching.
I licked my lips and stammered, "Uh...um, yea... Yea I think so?"
I was the kind of idiot whose tendency was to say yes to most things, especially when speaking to an attractive woman. I wasn't stupid, but I was usually slow on the uptake too, again mostly when it came to attractive women. She gave off an intoxicating aroma of...Pumpkin spice? It was combined with something else, something erotic. Her aphrodesiatic bouquet and her proximity to me was raising my pulse and sending blood to my manhood.
"Goooood" she breathed, holding me in place against the wall with one hand and closing the bathroom door with the other. She then upended the family friendly association I have with Thanksgiving, forever...
"Gobble," She locked the door.
"Gobble," She pulled down the top of her outfit freeing a pair of amazing breasts, braids pointing down to her hard nipples.