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."Ian interrupted her cacophony of words by leaning across and pressing a single finger to her lips. Julie suddenly became silent. Her eyes glistened with potential tears. Ian gently maneuvered Julie legs to the front of the couch, took her face softly in his hands, and kissed her delicately and innocently on the lips. Julie uncontrollably started to melt into his arms, but suddenly realized what she was doing and drew away."Wait, I mean, no, I can't, no, wait just a minute, I mean you are nice and handsome-really handsome-I like Australians, I really do, and you are sweet... and a very nice kisser and all... but well, I'm not this sort of girl, so..."Just then, Julie noticed the television screen for the first time. The Bianca and her lover were gone and there, in living color, appeared, her brand new husband, Alex. Ingrid was climbing all him in living high definition color on the giant screen. Julie watched curiously at first, but her feelings changed to utter shock and repulsion. Their random movements had become less chaotic, and now they formed small groups of three or four that moved together. At the center of it all, the leader stood with her arms raised to the stars. When it seemed like the music could play no faster, she let her hands fall to her sides. Instantly, the music ceased, as though sliced of by a knife. The dancers fell to the ground and lay in their groups, panting from their exertions.The leader gestured to the invisible musicians once more. The grass rustled as they moved away from the meadow, back toward the village. A new dance began, but this one was a dance of hands and fingers, lips and tongues. Mouths moved over bare breasts and heads moved between naked thighs. The leader moved among the small clusters of women, brushing a breast here, caressing a mane of hair nestled between trembling thighs there.At the edge of the shrinking circle of light, a young woman, practically still a girl, sat on her heels watching two other women sucking.
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In that company, we'll tell Fuzzbutt stories sometimes. We both talk about him like an exotic pet. I told them about the time he ate a whole hot pepper I'd dropped in his bowl. Hubby told them about the time I took away one of his favorite hump-toys and he knocked over a bookshelf trying to get it back. More than once, we've gotten the response that Fuzzbutt sounds like a goofball and a sweetie and they'd love to meet him.I didn't really know if my husband would allow it, but talking to him about Fuzzbutt didn't always work well. It was easier to just set up a dinner party on one of Hubby's days off and invite the few people who'd understand. I let them know they might meet Fuzzbutt and that it might be kinky or it might not be. I figured Fuzzbutt might make a sort of appearance, probably with his pants on. Hubby might talk about anything and everything, but he wasn't even much of a hugger, though how that translated into Fuzzbutt I had no idea.When I told Hubby when I'd set up the.

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