amanda anne et al

Amanda Anne

This Is A Fictional Short Story Of Some Mental Machinations Of A Writer Of Short Stories.  It Might Be Converted To A Madrigal Or Ballet, With The Music Of Alexander Borodin Or Maurice Ravel Or Igor Stravinsky.  I Suspect that Stravinsky’s Ballet Music, “Le Sacre Du Printemps,” Would Be Appropriate.

By Izzy Ess of Dreaminess

“Amanda Anne Amantadine was seventeen before she realized that she had power over men.  She’d wink at them and tempt them with flirtatiousness.  Then they’d ask her for a date and she’d decline, unless the man was tall, quite handsome and well-dressed.  Then, she’d go for quite expensive dinners at exclusive restaurants, until the man would ask her to accompany him to his large apartment for an evening of frivolity and sex. This night, it was Benito Lopez, Mayor of Babington, who’d asked her to come home with him and meet his mother, eh?  Amanda was surprised that he did want her to exchange amenities with his own mother and was more surprised to find his mother naked and intoxicated.  Mrs. Sophie Lopez jumped right on Amanda and stripped her clothes and underwear right off and started licking our Amanda’s private parts, which made her lubricate quite heavily.  Benito got undressed completely and he stroked her derriere with his enlarging, throbbing manhood until he found his target and pushed his manhood completely into our Amanda’s lubricated honeypot.”

Pierre Seville, of Birmingham, a proud English professor at the University, was typing his short story of Amanda, our Benito and Benito’s sexy, drunken mother.  He paused to light a cigarillo of a flavoured pipe tobacco, and sat back while his enthusiastic student, Marilyn Melinda Multitude, grabbed his manhood and put it in her mouth for tonguing.  Our Pierre responded vigourously and supplied a lunch of semen for his student, Marilyn, who swallowed everything with relish and tomato ketchup, eh?  She licked Pierre’s now flaccid manhood and she brought it back to a full stretch.  Ms. Marilyn then got up off her knees and sat upon Pierre’s hard manhood with her bare derriere and got it into her quite hot and lubricated honeypot.  She wiggled and she grunted and achieved Nirvana so successfully that her Pierre exploded, once again, and so did she.  Pierre did put his arms around his Marilyn and grabbed her ample breasts and rubbed her small hard nipples ‘til she started moaning and she started squeezing down with her young honeypot to stimulate Pierre.  Pierre was thrilled and started pumping like a Chevy piston which was exciting, eh?  They disengaged and Marilyn lay supine on the shaggy rug, her knees uplifted and her thighs spread far apart.  Pierre got off his chair and mounted Marilyn.  Ms. Marilyn then moaned and wiggled, once again.  Pierre and she exploded simultaneously.  Then, they fell asleep.  Luckily, the cigarillo was no longer lit.

“Benito grabbed his mother, Sophie, and he forced himself upon her groin while Ms. Amanda, his companion for the evening, rubbed his mother’s nipples, causing them to grow quite hard.  Amanda tongued them vigourously, while Benito’s mother moaned and lubricated her old honeypot.  Nonetheless, Benito and his mother were quite satisfied with the performance of Amanda, eh?  They disengaged and Amanda offered her own barely used young honeypot to M. Benito who accepted this great invitation with enthusiasm and élan.  Benito did explode and so did Ms. Amanda while our Sophie licked Amanda’s tiny pink and hardened nipples.”

Marilyn had left to catch her early class in microscopic studies of the lives of living, slithering amoebae.  Then, Pierre cooked his big breakfast, bacon and three eggs, coffee and some orange juice.  He sat right down to eat and read his typed scenario concerning his Amanda, Sophie and Benito and he smoked a marijuana joint.  Then, suddenly, the door flew open and Benito, Sophie and Amanda entered and attacked him, viciously.  They threw his laptop out the window and admonished him for writing all that trash about their sexual activities.  They ripped off all his clothes and forced him into having sex with them.  It was exciting, eh?  Sophia was aggressive and she forced the author of pornography to push his throbbing manhood deep into Amanda’s derriere.  She moaned and wiggled and induced him to explode in her own lubricated honeypot.  As if by magic, Sophie vapourized into a puff of smoke.  And just as magically, our Amanda and his table full of breakfast goodies floated up and zoomed outside.  When Benito drew his loaded Luger, our Pierre just fainted dead away.

Ms. Marilyn returned to find her bold professor lying on the floor, unconscious.  His whole table full of breakfast goodies was untouched.  She checked his breathing and his pulse and found that he was quite alive.  She helped herself to brunch and filled her stomach full.  A nursing student, she had learned her CPR techniques and punched Pierre right in the chest.  There was no response.  She checked his pulse and breathing, once again, and was quite satisfied that he was still alive.  She checked his belt to make real sure it was not tight.  Removing it, she undid his jeans and fished out his large manhood and did stroke it, lovingly.  Then she took it in her mouth and started tonguing it.  Despite his comatose condition, Pierre responded briskly and soon his manhood stood up straight and started throbbing.  Marilyn removed her pantyhose and sat upon her good professor’s hardened manhood and got it right into her lubricating honeypot.  This wasn’t part of CPR, but it was fun for Marilyn.  She removed the rest of all her clothes and then removed the clothes of her professor.  He began to rouse and was so pleasantly surprised to find his naked Marilyn on top of him, just smiling broadly and amusing her own self with his excited manhood.  He began to smile as well.

Our nursing student, Marilyn was thinking, “This might make an interesting way of female nurses to resuscitate male patients, eh?  Perhaps I could get extra credit in my nursing classes by suggesting it.  I could present it to my mentors as a Master’s level treatise, eh?”  Ms. Marilyn’s quite academic thoughts were interrupted by great waves of pleasure from her inner private parts.  She and her Pierre exploded simultaneously.

“There was no meeting of Amanda and Benito and Benito’s mother, Sophie.  It was a weird daydream experienced by our Amanda while she dripped some acid, late one evening, all alone in her apartment.  Upon recovering from her drug trip, she felt enthusiastic about experiencing sexual activity.  She dressed for dinner in a long black sexy dress, slit down in front to her own belly button and up both sides to her broad hips.  She thoughtfully removed her underwear and donned her four inch black patent leather spikes.  She entered Luciano’s Bar and Bistro and was seated in the middle of the restaurant.  Her waiter, Bruno Cagliari, could not keep his eyes from gazing at her breasts and her pink nipples, peeking out from her black dress.  She ordered turf and surf and noticed that her waiter was developing a bulge in his tight trousers.  She smiled at Bruno and she purposefully pushed her fork right off the table.  Bruno knelt to get the fork and had a direct view of our Amanda’s private parts.  He put his hands upon her thighs and slowly pushed his fingers to his target with success.  He introduced his fingers to Amanda’s private parts and stroked the inside of her lubricating honeypot.  Amanda slouched and spread her thighs to give him better access and he shoved his hand right up her moist kazoo.  She moaned and had a dozen waves of pleasure right in the middle of the restaurant.

Some other diners heard her moan and stood to see what the problem was.  They saw the legs of Bruno sticking out from underneath the table and they understood.  They gave Amanda a loud round of clapping and went back to their mundane delicious meals.  Our Bruno heard the clapping and he disengaged his hand and stood right up to face his audience and sang an aria from Giaucomo Puccini’s “Madam Butterfly.”  He deeply bowed to more applause and with a reddened face went to the kitchen to submit his order for Amanda’s surf and turf and her big bottle of Chianti.”

Our Pierre was satisfied with his revision of his pornographic story of Amanda.  Marilyn enjoyed it, too.  It turned her on, of course, and she undressed to tempt her mentor.  Our Pierre responded by undressing and he led his Marilyn right to his bed.  There was a-rocking and a-rolling for the evening and the night.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 5, 2014

the two professors

SARAH AND HAROLD

This Is The Lyrical And Fictional Short Story Of Two Star-Crossed Lovers, Not Unlike Romeo And Juliet.  It Was Fun To Write And Hopefully You’ll Like It, Too.

By Izzy Ess Of Childishness

Professor Harold Weinstein and Professor Sarah Sandringham had introduced themselves at Bannister McLeod’s Obstetrics Hospital in Hamilton, Ontario, in Canada.  They both were there to learn about the latest research on delivering of babies.  Harold was attracted to the pulchritude of Professor Sandringham while Sarah was attracted to the silk Italian suit Professor Weinstein wore.  At a break for lunch, they shared a tiny table in the Hospital’s huge cafeteria.  They started talking and discovered that they shared strong interests in some classic foreign movies, kinky sex, disorganized religion, dirty politics and the deliverance of babies, eh?  They smiled a lot and talked a lot and missed the afternoon of seminars.

The two professors took a walk and found out Hamilton had miles of walking paths along the shore of Lake Ontario, as well as some neat mountain paths that could be climbed to get atop the mountain for a lovely view of Hamilton and Burlington and Stoney Creek.  They shared a steak and lobster dinner at the Hotel Royale atop the precipice and started holding hands atop the table and then touching knees below.  It seemed so natural that these professors signed into the Hotel as Jane and Johnny Smith and took a room for that whole night.

Suffice to say, the bodies of Professors Sandringham and Weinstein fit together in all weird and wonderful positions.  The fits were so terrific, Harold and our Sarah stayed in their room for the whole duration of the conference on Obstetrics.  Then, they dressed and left to catch their WestJet Aeroplanes for Vancouver and New York and their respective families and spouses.

When next the lovers met, it was the next Obstetrics Conference in Los Angeles.  They registered, picked up agendae, summaries, opinions and the pharmaceutical free gifts, inducements and free samples, and then left the Conference Centre.  Then, they made their way to Monterrey and spent the whole week in a small motel that overlooked Pacific Ocean.  There, they found, anew, that their two bodies fit together with enthrallment and excitement way beyond what they had felt before.  They expressed their love in lovely ways, as well as kinky ways.  In old Chicago, for the next Obstetrics Conference, they found a lovely bed and breakfast in Sheboygan, on Lake Michigan, renewing their enthrallment and excitement.  Next, it was Miami where they found a cozy old hotel in old Fort Lauderdale with views of the Atlantic Ocean.  Sarah and her Harold were in love and in some deep appreciations of each other’s charms and attributes.  Her pulchritude and his Italian suits continued to be magical for these two star-struck, highly educated, loving, professorial great experts in deliverance of babies.

In Minneapolis, the lovers did their usual performance as attendees at the semi-annual Obstetrics Conference in the Hennepin Grand Conference Centre, of the University of Minnesota School of Medicine.  They found a small hotel in old Wayzata near the Minnetonka Lake and Tonka Toy Amusement Centre with a patio which was a dock for boats upon the Lake.  A winter storm beset them and froze everything, including them.  The block of ice with their two closely fitted naked bodies was preserved in a big freezer at the University for Scientific Studies for posterity, and for the titillating grand amusement of all the future students of Obstetrics and the Gynecology, the Sociology and Anthropology, Paleontology and the Philosophy, the Arts and Music.  Composers of fine music and fine lyrics were enticed to re-create the history of star-struck lovers, everywhere and evermore.  An opera, “Professors of Obstetrics,” still gets many audiences clapping quite enthusiastically, to this day, when it dramatically ends by showing the big block of ice with frozen lovers, pulchritudinous Professor Sarah Sandringham and her most well-dressed lover, the Professor Harold Weinstein.

Some librettist wrote the lyrics that do follow:

Act I, scene v

Professor Weinstein:

“Oh, Sarah, I love you in every way:

I love you upside down and in the hay;

I love you inside out and nude and lewd;

I love you at sea level, altitude;

I love your honeypot and lovely breasts;

I love your quiet moaning and the crests

Of pleasure that you do experience.”

Professor Sandringham:

“Oh, Harold I do love your silken suits,

Your leather thongs, your spurs and leather boots;

I love your manhood, long and very strong;

I love your words of wisdom, right or wrong;

I love your arms around my waist and chest;

I love the way you tongue my heaving breast

And purposefully flub your chess defence.”

The plots for Operas and Operettas were amazingly quite similar to this short story.  With this quite final, quite ironic, observation, this is logically quite

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 6, 2014

seville mcnabb

Professor Jonathan

Seville McNabb

A Fictional, Lyrical Short Story Of A Man Who Tried To Find Some Meaning In His Life.  This Would Be An Interesting Madrigal, Or A Movie Short, With, Perhaps The Music Of Claude Debussy, “Le Mer,” Or “Claire De Lune.”

By Izzy Ess Of Happiness

Professor Jonathan Seville McNabb retired at sixty-two.  Divorced three times, unhappy with his work and social life, he lived alone with his two Calicos in his old hundred year old house on Canberra Road in Fonthill, Ontario, in Canada.  His house was at the highest point in the Niagara Peninsula atop an ancient sand dune that remained when glaciers, that once covered Great Lakes Basin, retracted and left the long escarpment that extended from Blue Mountain in the province of Ontario, to Mohawk precipices all across the State of New York, USA.  The drop of some two hundred feet, or more, is what runs across Niagara River and is the wonder of Niagara Falls.  Professor Jonathan had taught Biology, in Ste. Catharine’s, Brock University built atop the high escarpment overlooking Port Dalhousie and the shore of Lake Ontario.  On clear days, from his third floor attic, he, and his two calicos, could spot the cities of Toronto, Hamilton, Niagara Falls and old Port Colbourne, on the shores of Lake Ontario, Niagara River and Lake Erie.

He could also spot the hundred, or so, naked women who attended daily the huge nudist colony within the property just north of his big house.  The Association of Nude Feminists, the ANF, had purchased this large property in 1965.  Their policies and tendencies included hatred of all men and furthermore admitted only single women to their group who felt that men were not so necessary for society, in general.  None of the women ever wanted sex with a man, or impregnation by a man.  They felt that their survival as a group would be with modern artificial medical insemination, allowing only female babies to survive.  McNabb was really into watching naked women playing volleyball who displayed those bouncing body parts that he adored.  It turned him on.  Self-flagellation was his answer as he watched the small and larger breasts and buttocks bouncing up and down, joyful women’s faces and those squeals of sheer delight when points were won.  Apparently, no woman ever looked up to his attic windows or, if they did, they didn’t care enough to make complaints.  McNabb was cautious and he didn’t move, ensuring there were never lights to light him up and make him easier to spot.

Professor Jonathan had other interests.  He’d theorized for many years that life had started here on earth in the early years of Earth’s conversion from a mass of gas to solid rock and lots of water.  Reading many papers on the theories of conditions, which would have been in place, he learned what would have favoured molecules to form nucleic acids, basic building blocks of DNA and RNA.  Most certainly one needed oxygen and hydrogen, as well as nitrogen, some sulfur and some carbon, all available in massive quantities from the earth, the water and the air, as the gasses cooled.  Much energy was necessary for the fusion of the atoms to make molecules.  Most theorists suggested that it was the lightning, though some favoured other possibilities, including solar energy, directly from the sun, before there was protective ozone in the stratosphere, or from some natural unstable elements, plutonium or strontium or C¹⁴.  Most theorized there were, at one stage, large amounts of quite acidic “organic soup,” with all the elements of DNA and RNA awaiting energy to “come alive.”

Professor Jonathan did purchase chemicals and made acidic soups for his amusement.  He had a large and muddy pond in his backyard to which he added chemicals to make acidic soup, while hoping for some storms to come.  His house already had a lightning rod with wires from it directly into his back yard.  He bared the grounding wires inside the soup of his experimental pond.  He watched expectantly as lightning did repeatedly light up his pond.  Disappointed after months of trying, he gave up and settled back to watching naked women playing volleyball next door.  He collected his own semen and just dumped it in his pond.  And then he died while watching bouncing body parts of his nude neighbours.  His last Will and Testament bequeathed his calicos, his house and all his property to the naked women of the ANF.

The women all were pleasantly surprised.  They realized they owned a largish property which now included two big houses and two back yards.  They enlarged the late Professor’s muddy pond creating a nice wading pool, heated by the sunshine in summertime.  It became a favourite place for cooling off, especially after active games of volleyball.  In the sunshine, it was nice to lie within the nice warm mud because it had a soothing benefit for all their naked bodies, like the mud baths of the European Spas.

Mysteriously, it did seem, all the women of the ANF were found to be quite pregnant.  In a way, it was the culmination of Professor Jonathan’s experiments.  The acidic composition of the muddy water was ideal, apparently, for supporting active sperm, which swam deep into the unsuspecting honeypots, resulting in mass impregnation, eh?  The erstwhile childless old Professor was now the father of some hundred children, split approximately 50-50, boys and girls.  Not one of the quite happy mothers wanted to get rid of their cute cuddly charming boys, as they had planned as part of joining ANF.  And, following intense discussion, they did change their name to ANP, Association of the Naked People, eh?  The spirit of Professor Jonathan Seville McNabb was beaming with the pride of having done a very special something with his life, at last.

THE END

[and the

beginning,

eh?]

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 7, 2014

animals, etc

ANIMAL ANOMALIES

A Doubly Silly Pair of Sonnettes

By Izzy Ess of Silliness

A snappy so deliriously happy

Snapping turtle snapped at salivating

Sally Salamander.  She demanded

Explanations.  Horace Tortoise kept

On snapping, inexplicably.  The salamander,

Sally whipped her tail and sent

The tortoise, Horace, flying and he landed

Upside-down.  Ms. Sally salivated

As she moved in for the kill.  The hill,

On which our Horace landed was a steep

Incline.  Our Sally pushed him on the rim

Of his old shell, and with her muscular

Strong tail, she rolled him down the hill towards

The Sea of Galilee.  She could not stop

His great momentum and she slipped and slid

Into the water with her adversary,

Who could swim.  Our Sally crawled upon

His shell and made it to all the way

To Hamilton and Edmonton.  They talked

And found they had a lot in common and

Decided to move in together for the rest

Of 1954, and ever more.

Since having children was impossible,

They did adopt a pond of tadpoles and

They watched as all the tadpoles did develop

Into frogs and then they built a sty

For raising of some hogs and sows who did

Produce some piglets and a slew of squid.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Wetland, Kanata

January 7, 2014

marylou&pierre

THE KAZOOZ

This Is A Very Short, Fictitious Story About The Kazoo Family.  It Would Make A Good Bluish-Jazzy Madrigal, Sung To Music In The Style Of Some Classic Modern Melodies, Like Duke Ellington’s “Blue Satin Doll,” Or Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five.”

By Izzy Ess Of Goofiness

Pierre Kazoo just knew that women would adore his curly hair and deep blue eyes, because his mother, Joyce Kazoo, had told him so.  His mother’s friend, a Marylou de Xanadu, came over frequently to kiss him and to hold him tenderly.  This Marylou was twenty-two; Pierre was two.  She liked to bathe him.  She’d rub his derriere and tiny wee-wee with enthusiasm and would powder him with scented talcum powder ere she put on his big bulky diaper, eh?  When Pierre turned seventeen, our Marylou was thirty-nine and she bathed our Pierre with even greater tenderness, enthusiasm and élan.  She liked to get undressed completely and to crawl inside the tub with her Pierre.  She requested that he soap her private parts while she soaped his.  Ms. Marylou had shown him how to soap her inner private parts by introducing his large soapy manhood deep inside her honeypot.

Pierre expected all his girlfriends to just lead him to the tub and scrub his private parts and let him scrub their private parts and let him use his soapy manhood to just scrub their lubricated honeypots.  The girls did think him cuckoo, but they tried it, nonetheless.  They rather liked it, glad or blue, eh?  By the time Pierre Kazoo was twenty-two, our Marylou de Xanadu was forty-two, the same age as Pierre’s blue mother, Joyce Kazoo.  Seville Kazoo, the father of Pierre, had moved to Malibu with his own Voodoo Doll, Adele de Timbuktu, age twenty-two, when he was fifty-two.  Adele invited Marylou to come and live with her and her Pierre, to chase away her blues.  The three of them did like to bathe together and enjoyed the mutual sweet soaping of their private parts, together in Kazoo’s blue, spanking new Jacuzzi, eh?  The mewing, crooning and the cooing, goings on, were soothing and quite opportune.

Pierre supplied red, white and blue balloons from his new work-place, Moody Tunes, who soon became incorporated.  He became the chief balloon designer.  Our Pierre did marry Marylou, despite her mooning goofiness, each noon and night, when spooning was so opportune.  Both Marylou and her new room-mate, our Adele, became soon impregnated.  They consumed a tablespoon of liquid vitamins, each afternoon, in June, July and August, eh?  Adele delivered, to the crooning, mooning and ballooning group, a baby girl, while Marylou, a baby boy.  Soon after this, the women undertook to act responsibly. Two tubal interruptions were performed, successfully, so beautifully and so dutifully.

When the children were but five, they vacationed in the Blue Lagoon at Blue Moon Spa and Entertainment Park, where Loop-The-Loop became their favourite roller-coaster ride.  They collected souvenirs, including moon-stone and Blue Mountain jewellery.  The Bluish Mountain Crooners crooned for them, “Smooth Blues,” in coolest of the afternoons, while they were swooning-spooning in the Blue Lagoon.  The Kazoo group sang blues and harmonized and called themselves the Krooning Kazooz Moodeze Blues.  They cooked moo goo “guy” pan on their own bluish, Jewish BBQ.

In view of running out of blue goose rhymes, I must be ghoulish and too foolish as befits a Jewish mule and tuile a piece that says

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 8, 2014

monkey dunky

HINKY-DINKY

A Very Silly

Bonnet-Sonnet

By Izzy Ess OF

Monkey-Business

A hinky-dinky-kinky-blinky-finky-

Minky-stinky-rinky-shminky-grinky-

Inky-winky-twinky-pinky-sinky-

Slinky-yinky-zinky-linky-jinky-

ginky-ninky-quinky-tinky-vinky-

Winky-xinky augenblick, surpassed

A honky-donkey-konky-blonky-fonkey-

Monkey-stonkey-ronky-shmonkey-gronky-

Onky-wonky-twonky-ponky-sonky-

Slonky-yonky-zonky-lonky-jonky-

Gonky-nonkey-quankey-tonky-vinkey-

Wonky-xonkey immaterial

Conservative preservative along

The road to Yonkers, with a ding-a-dong.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 8, 2014

lady cunningham

MILADY ELOISE

This Is A Fictitious, Lyrical Short Story Of A Very Beautiful, Intelligent, Sexy, Wealthy And Creative Woman.  Her Great Successes Far Outnumbered All Her Failures.  It Would Make An Interesting Movie, Feature-Length Or Short And Sweet.  It Could Be Well-Accompanied By Ralph Williams, Perhaps His “Green Sleeves’” Themes.  Someone Like Nichole Kidman And Jack Nicholson Could Be The Stars For Eloise And Samuel.

By Izzy Ess Of Oblige Noblesse

Sir Samuel Charles Effingham decided he was old and tired and needed to resign his post as Minister of Finance in the Labour Government of 2202 of the British Parliament.  He did dictate a letter stating that he would step down, October 31^st.  His estate in Birmingham was so successful with its use of coal for making high grade steel for weapons, cutlery and locomotives, that he was a millionaire before he was elected twenty years ago and the Effingham Steel Company run by his own daughter, Eloise Maude Effingham-Smythe, tripled all his assets while he was sitting in the House of Commons.  In fact, she’d helped him out, in private, many times, with her financial wizardry and cleverness.  Sir Samuel Charles was quite entitled to take up a seat in the House of Lords and did.

Milady Eloise was very beautiful, creative, smart and statuesque.  When she was seventeen, she had been Ms. Great Britain and been awarded Ms. Congeniality in old Schenectady in 2169.  A brilliant student, she graduated youngest and the smartest in the class of 2170, at Oxford University, in Math and Science, scoring perfect marks in Geometry and Algebra and Trigonometry and the Astrophysics of the complicated mathematics of the Theories of Everything.  She was awarded many academic prizes for her refinements of the Theory of Big Bang, which predicted the exciting Novae and the Big Black Holes.  She achieved her BSc, her MSc and her MBA with papers in statistics and “The Universal Solar Systems,” which when published by the Oxford Press, became the standard text for advance-ed students in the field of Astrophysics, Mathematics and Astronomy.  Her published minor subject “Treatise of the Sociology of Colour,” was a bestseller and a university required reading textbook.  She became renowned as “Queen of Royal Purple,” for her famous observations on why purple was preferred by royalty.  Her 2181 PhD was based on “Iron Metals in the Modern World of Electronic Nanoseconds,” along with her statistical and brilliant speculations on the element of iron in development of all past civilizations of the Earth, was published and translated, and became another lucrative bestseller and a textbook for advance-ed studies at most universities.  Eventually, she did win the Stockholm Nobel Prize in Math and Physics.  Eloise turned down a dozen offers for some academic and commercial enterprises, while she did take up her father’s offer of the CEO of Effingham Steel Company and, “ironically, turned the iron into gold.”  Her biographer entitled his account of Eloise’s first fifty years, “The Turn of Iron into Gold.”  It became a world-wide best seller and a glowing inspiration for all younger women, everywhere.

This great success story did not mention anything about the unsuccessful social life of Milady Eloise Maude Effingham-Smythe.  She was the only child of Lord Samuel Charles Effingham.  Milady Mildred Effingham, her mother, died in childbirth and Lord Effingham did not remarry.  Samuel became a doting father, denying nothing to his precious daughter who was a happy child and often giggled uncontrollably.  She loved her father and spent her time with him in all evenings and the nights.  She took to slipping into his big king-sized bed, with four posts and fringe-ed, tasselled canopy.  She liked to take her night clothes off and match the nakedness of her own father who liked to fondle her, as she would fondle him.  Often they would sleep, embraced, after several tender moments, stroking private parts.  Throughout the night, she would awake when Sir Samuel’s sleeping manhood would awake and stand up straight.  She learned to stroke it, lick it and enjoy the salty semen that he would squirt out when he was glad to have relief of built-up pressures in his fascinating balls.  She would play with them and watch as his large manhood would get hard and start to throb before his masthead turned a pinkish purple and exploded with the salty stuff she liked to gobble up and swallow, eh?  She learned to put his softened masthead in her little mouth and make it hard and throbbing and to take his salty stuff directly into her small throat and swallow everything he would produce.  Sir Samuel would smile and say how pleased he was to have such loving talent in his daughter, Lady Eloise.  She was so proud to be his darling daughter and considered that she was, indeed, Milady of the Manor Effingham.

When Eloise was eight, she learned to spread her lovely little thighs for her own father to just gently push his manhood in between her private parts which lubricated to facilitate his penetration into them.  She found it pleasant and exciting, eh?  She saw that this was pleasant and exiting for her loving father and she did it frequently.  When she was twelve, she went through menarchy; her father told her she was now a woman and could have a baby, if she wished.  She wished with all her heart to please him.  She was disappointed when he said it would not be acceptable in society if she were impregnated by her father.  Thereafter, she was fully satisfied by oral sex, and so was Samuel.  He said she was too young to seek a husband and she waited dutifully.

When at high school, a nice handsome class-mate, Daniel Blaine of Smythe, a Duke of Gloucester, did approach her and expressed his love for her intelligence and pulchritude, and didn’t mention that a union would make him a wealthy man.  Despite her father’s strong objections to this marriage, Eloise became betrothed.  She couldn’t wait to make a baby, but was unsuccessful.  After marriage, she continued trying.  Gynecologists told her and her new husband and her father that she had a uterus with two small chambers, like a rabbit, and would not get pregnant easily.  She insisted on quite frequent intercourse with her husband and her father, but to no avail.  Duke Daniel willingly received a huge amount of money to accept divorce.  He used his winnings to take off to Kingston, in Jamaica, on his brand new yacht and was never seen again in Effingham.  Milady Eloise officially took over leadership in Effingham and shared the bed of Samuel Charles, quite unabashedly.  Their social, sexual and commercial intercourse was extremely frequent and quite satisfying to both our Milady and Milord.  The both of them felt very fortunate to have discovered their great loves.  Both felt that their successes were in large part due to having found a great, supportive and instructive personage with which to go through life.

Throughout the years, both Samuel and Eloise were free to treat themselves to buxom chambermaids and handsome stable boys.  As well, they often hosted parties for both royalty and business friends who would often entertain them with new sexual experiences with Kings and Queens, some Duchesses and Dukes and CEOs, vice-presidents and presidents, of important companies.  In private moments, Eloise and Samuel would laugh about their sexual adventures, usually quite naked, lying intertwined and quite enjoined, in bed at night.  In 2024, Samuel had minor apoplexy which did render him quite impotent.  He and Eloise were satisfied with oral sex, as they had done when she was younger.  Eloise had three quite well-endowed staff members who were happy to indulge her yearnings for deep intercourse, at any time she wished.  Her favourite was to have all three attend to fantasies that she still harboured for the making of a baby.  After menopause, she gave up on her wish to be a mother and just relaxed, enjoying her frivolities.

At fifty-five, our Eloise was quite a handsome woman, and immensely rich.  Oft wooed by many members of the Royal Court and powerful important businessmen, she would inform them, right up front, that marriage was not her ambition, while she frequently invited them to spend the night or weekend at her Effingham huge mansion, not at all reluctant to make business deals with all of them, to increase her already earned huge assets.  She was listed as the wealthiest, desirable woman in the world by Forbes and other business publications when her personal net value was quite easily much more than twenty billion US dollars.  Eloise and Effingham and Effingham Steel Company were featured frequently in financial magazines with glossy pages.

Samuel expired of metastatic cancer of the liver in the latter part of 2027.  A huge memorial was well attended.  Eloise did mourn for almost one full year.  She did erect an iron statue of his likeness for the lawn and garden just behind the manor where she expressed her love to him, in spiritus, repeatedly until she died.  Everything had been bequeathed to Eloise, the reigning queen of her domain.  She died of apoplexy when she was approaching ninety-eight, continuing to be quite enthralled repeatedly by her three favourites right up until the night she died.  She left a lot of money to her favourites and many other loyal staff.  The bulk of her estate was left as an endowment for the Oxford University for scholarships and fellowships and more research in fields of Astrophysics and pure Mathematics.  Effingham was established as a School of Sociology and Colour Physiology and well-endowed with huge annuities.  The loyal staff and favourites erected a steel statue in the likeness of Milady Eloise of Effingham.  It revealed her pulchritude and sexy attitude with revealing clothing made of shiny alloy steel constructed to appear quite purple in the sunlight and the moonlight, an earlier invention of Milady Eloise.  Perhaps three thousand men, or so, who had experienced her warmth and sociability, or just heard about it, did attend her funeral and huge memorial.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

January 9, 2014