(Image is of @charmedkatie, also known at CuriousKatie on Fet, fiction by me, also known as AskJeeves on fet. Friend us, we’re friendly. And if you ask nicely, you might get Erotic Friend Fiction written about you. Hat tip to @pinkbubblegumbimbo who inspired the headline and @midorikonton who inspired EFF generally)
Erotic Friend Fiction: Addressing the lack of bimbo lesbians.
When we’ve done this kind of scene before, it has been a quick thing. But this time, we’ve negotiated for it to take all night. So that must have been worth dressing up for. She shifts a bit in her little skirt. The t-shirt tucked into it gives it a bit of a cheerleader vibe
What can I say? I’m a woman of simple tastes.
“What’s your favorite suuubject?” I purr.
“I like math class,” she says, confidently.
“Ooh. Tough break. Today we have a spelling test.”
Her shoulders slump in mock disappointment. It’s always a spelling test.
“Don’t worry,” I say, “the sooner you go under, the sooner the hard spelling test will be over.”
She takes the hint and starts to pull herself under. Today’s game isn’t an induction, it’s a deepener. I take her a little deeper, just enough for my words to stick, but leaving her able to talk.
“You’re very smart,” I say. “I bet you remember the rules of our spelling tests.”
“I can’t spell any word I don’t need to know,” she mumbles.
“That’s right,” I moan, knowing the very idea excites both of us. “And what happens when you can’t spell a word?”
“I know there are lots of words I don’t need to know to be a silly, happy, girl. It feels good to not know a word I don’t need to know. It reminds me what a silly, happy girl I am.”
“And that’s hot,” I say.
She nods “That’s so exciting.”
“You’re so smart!” I say. “Are you ready for your spelling test?”
She smiles. “Yes,” and shifts a bit in her seat. This is indeed as good for her as it is for me.
“Seigniorage,” I said.
“No, I’m sorry, I guess you don’t need to know any financial terms.”
The first wave of arousal hits her and she giggles. “I’m not very good with money”
“That’s what rich people are for,” I suggest. She nods her agreement.
“Boullillabase” I say
“No, I’m sorry. I guess no one expects you to cook.”
She giggles again. “No,” she agrees.
“Hmmm… How about PINK”
“P-I-N-K” she says
“That’s a word I need to know!” She says, shifting again in her chair.
“Because pink is soft and pretty and sexy” I say.
“And so am I!”
“You’re so smart.”
But the spelling test isn’t over. She has trouble with “querulous,” as it turns out she doesn’t need to know any words for feelings that aren’t happy and aroused. She gets “Urbane” wrong, too. I guess she doesn’t need to make sophisticated conversation either. She spells “sex” correctly, though. That must be something she needs to know.
“Oh, it sounds like you don’t need to know words for clothes. I guess you’d better take yours off.” I’m not even done with my suggestion when she starts pulling at her skirt. “Every piece of clothing is something you don’t need. Feels so good to get rid of words and clothes and ideas you don’t need.”
“So good,” she says. Her bra hits the floor and her mouth hangs open just a bit.
She thinks that also begins with a K, so we’ve established that she doesn’t need furniture. She slides to the ground at my feet.
“Pussy?” I suggest.
“P-U-S-S-Y” she says!
“You’re so smart!” I say, and she starts crawling forward. She knows exactly what she needs.