Maryann made her way back to the couch and sat the pizza box on the coffee table. She placed her cigarette between her lips and made her way out of the room, returning with a bottle of Diet Coke. She sat down and crushed the cigarette out right beside of you, making you jump back, and her giggle. Opening the pizza box, she grabbed a slice of pizza and bit the tip off. She sat you back on her belly and sat down the tiny bite of pizza, which was like two slices to you. As you dug into the pepperoni pizza she turned on the TV, jeopardy was on.
Maryann ate six slices of pizza, you had had your feel after two of the makeshift slices. The Jeopardy questions seemed to frustrate her, she was mad she didn’t know the answers, largely ignoring you. She let out a large belch.
“Oh, excuse me!” She said, giggling. She lit a fresh cigarette as final Jeopardy came on, and she was extremely pleased when she guessed right with “Ozymandias.”
“I could go on there and win big time, pet,” she chuckled, taking a long hard drag off of her cigarette, appearing to gather her thoughts. “We played trivia at book club once, Doreen had gathered questions over the last five books we’d read,” she said, exhaling a thick stream of smoke into the air.
“Of course Diane won. There’s no doubt in my mind Doreen had given her the answers. Sheila agreed.”
She spoke of these people as though you knew them. And you assumed you soon would. A Bookclub of Karens, pretending to be each other’s friends, constantly talking crap about each other behind their backs.
Maryann placed the cap from the Diet Coke bottle onto her belly with a little of the soda in it. You had no choice but to lean down and slurp out of it, it was too big for you to lift.
“Hmmm…” she pondered, her cigarette now dangling from her lips. “I’ll have to find a cup for you.”
Wrapping her hand around you, you could feel Maryann walking. When she finally opened her hand she placed you down on the nightstand in her bedroom, near her cigarettes and ashtray. You watched as she removed her bra and panties, her large sagging breasts dangling on either side of her round gut and her pubic hair longer and wilder than you had imagined. She plopped into bed and picked you up, depositing you into the valley between her breasts. She lit another cigarette.
“Last smoke of the night, pet. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Breakfast at Paneras with Sheila (you hated when people added an “s” to restaurant or store names), some shopping downtown, and then Bookclub in the afternoon.”
That did not sound like a fun day to you. She finished her cigarette and turned off the nightstand light. Her hand covered you and slid her down her large belly, and just under it, the flab slightly covering you, her wild pubic mound just inches away.
“You should be comfy there,” she cooed.