trixie & jasmine

MS. TRIXIE AND MS. JASMINE

A Fictional And Personally

Fictional Good Tale Of Tail

On Wellington Avenue

By Izzy Ess De La Grande Vitesse

Ms. Trixie and Ms. Jasmine sat behind me in the café booth and bistro discussing what the shape of Manfred’s tool was just last night when they had entertained Sir Manfred Effingham and his lovely wife, Samantha Mae, at Trixie Dangerfield’s apartment, in the Telltale Towers out on Barton Avenue.  Jasmine Johnson was dramatic as she drew a mental picture for me of a hooded monk with throbbing head and squirting central fountain which was so long and hard it penetrated almost through to her own uterus.  Trixie Dangerfield said it was like an unsheathed medieval sword that pierced her to the heart with such delightful force and warmth that she was forever in an ecstasy of feelings.  They said that Lady Sam was truly generous in her allowing both her friends to ball her husband right in front of her, while frankly she was thrilled to have an audience when she did ball her husband, Manfred the Magnificent.

I was so curious about the pair of such excited, quite delicious gossips, that I left my recorder going on my table and got up as if to pee and took my cell phone with me so that I could film the couple at the both somewhat loudly in discussion of the night before.  I was shocked to see that Jasmine and her Trixie friend were stunning beauties that were dressed to just impress a group of men just standing at the bar, just ogling both of them.  They were dressed in tight black dresses, which revealed a lot of cleavage in both women, who were buxom and voluptuous.  Their skirts were hiked up to their waists revealing that they wore no underwear and in plain sight were both the women’s private parts.  Of course, I have it all on film and I’ll bet its going viral just as soon as I can send it on the social networks on the internet.  I attempted not to stare but must have been quite obvious just hesitating on my way to the men’s washroom.  Both ladies turned to smile at me and show me their great cleavage and returned to their quite earnest conversation.

I made it to the John and back and found a note upon my table, my recorder gone.  The handwritten note was signed by Jasmine and her room-mate, Trixie.  It said, ”If you’d like some further pictures of our cleavage, please appear tonight at 27 Wellington Avenue, behind the orange restaurant, Le Coq de Ville, and we will entertain you, you handsome brute!”  There was a number to be dialed if I wished to RSVP, but if I didn’t wish, I should just show up at midnight with a costume suitable for Hallowe’en, but not so skin tight that it does reveal some features of my manhood, eh?  Well, I finished my own hamburger and made some calls to my friend, Jonathan McGill, and his friend, Maxwell Stupid.  I told them there’s a party going down at 27 Wellington and that I was inviting them with costumes, to appear at midnight for admission.

Jon and Maxwell did appear in Dracula drag and they asked me where my costume was.  I said, “I have it on person, Stupid and McGill.  It is my awesome birthday suit!”  We enjoyed a hearty laugh and started out at 11:45 pm for Wellington, which was around the corner.  Number 27 was all dark, but the Orange Coq de Ville was all lit up and we went in there to consider knocking at the dark apartment.  We decided to be brave and rapped upon the door with the big rapper which was glowing in the dark.  The door swung open and there was Jasmine in her birthday suit with a huge smile inviting us to come right in.  She said, “I’m happy that you made it and brought your friends in costume, eh?  I’m dressed for comfort in my birthday suit.  I’m guessing, sir, that that is also your great costume.  Well, drop the clothes, my handsome sir and make yourselves at home!”  The statuesque bold Jasmine then turned to show her luscious tush and there was Trixie in a plastic, see-through costume as a cellophane box of chocolates.  She was oh so beautiful and she pointed out that Sir Manfred was already showing off his weapon, strong and hard and already throbbing.  The Lady Sam was in a banana costume, revealing her great uplifted breasts that were adorned with make-up as to simulate two bulging bloodshot eyes.  We were introduced and she just grabbed my tiny wee-wee and started stroking it to make it relatively big and hard, which really made me feel at home.  Samanta Mae, said, “Now wait a moment ‘til my husband, Manfred The Magnificent, gets his weapon fully sheathed by Suzanne Somerville, the lady who lives down the hall from us.  Sure enough, this Suzanne of the Hall, showed Manfred her cute drerierre and Manfred pushed his weapon in up to the hilt.  Suzanne’s eyes bulged out as she accepted her assignment with enthusiasm.  Her breasts were heaving and her tush was glistening in the dark.  Samanta Mae just turned around and offered me her derriere which I accepted gleefully.  Max Stupid and his buddy, Jon McGill were shown to the front closet where our Trixie closeted herself with my two friends and disappeared for the whole night.

At 1:00 am, we all switched partners and I got a Mrs. Cunningham to come to bed with me and show me how it all was done in London, England for a Guy Hawke’s Day and Night-time celebrations of all sexualities.  Ms. Constance Cunningham had killed her husband, just a year ago by poisoning his porridge, with some hemlock she had learned to use from her own Witch, the White Witch of West Wessex.  She was quite comely in her costume make of see-through gauze and hemp which left no question in my mind of what her charming private parts looked like.  She used to be a gymnast and could bend her body like a rubber doll to bring her legs up around her own neck and pointing all her toes at me.  She asked me to uplift her body and to set her down upon my hardened manhood while I lay upon my back.  It was quirky but quite fitting to be fitting into her.  I could picture her, just like Nadia, the Commando of the bars, receiving a big ten from all the judges.  We exchanged body fluids and we lubricated heavily.

Ms.  Jasmine and Ms. Trixie found my constant Constance in a trance completely sheathing my own sword.  The hostesses held Connie by the shoulders and her breasts and moved her up and down my shaft until I just exploded with delight.  Jasmine smiled and asked if I could sheath my weapon deep inside of her.  I said, “Yes, of course, my lovely hostess.  But how are we to manage Connie in a rapturous deep trance.  Jasmine smiled again and said, “Just watch and wonder, my good friend!”  Jasmine waved a twirling pendant watch in front of Connie’s eyes and murmured, “You are a Bird of Paradise.  Now fly away and play with someone else’s sword while I do play with this young man’s great manhood.  If you’re lucky, Connie Constant, you could get the Magnificent old Manfred, to be his temporary bride!”  Ms. Connie sprouted wings and flew away to search out Manfred the Magnificent.

Jasmine and then Trixie did kindly offer me their lubricated honeypots to penetrate and plumb the depths of their deep private parts.  It was delicious for me and so friendly that I made a date to see the pair of friends, again, anon.  The party ended when the cops were called to check out hanky panky in the offing and to check the pumpkins for explosives to insure that we were not the terrorists to which they had been falsely quite alerted.  I found my friends still in the closet, snoring peacefully and took them home.

The date I have with both the statuesque bright women of the Dark, my Jasmine and my Trixie were so good to me in all the years to come.  We had formed a trio of good friends to gossip about Manfred, Sam and anyone that these two investigative rag reporters did discover.  Connie was arrested for the murder of her husband when they found her purse so full of hemlock, it was growing leaves.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Wetland, Kanata

The Eve Before

The Eve Of Hallowe’en,

Soap And Broken Egg Day, 2013