Nanette and Mr. Happy

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You would find her enchanting, because there is a naive girlishness about her that attracts. You would laugh until you cried -- holding your side, literally in stitches -- at her antics. You would throw up your hands in frustration at her "self will run riot," yet ultimately mother and protect her.

She is my friend, and I want you to love her. Just like I do.

So Nanette has a big fight (one of a never-ending series of battles because he is a creep) with Danny. She is refusing to have sex with him, which is driving him crazy. Even though he cheats on her at the drop of a hat, even though at the acme of their latest tumult she’d strewn his clothes from her open car window all over the streets of their neighborhood, Danny wants to fuck Nannette. But Nanette has no intention of putting out. She wants him to suffer for whatever latest conniving idiocy he’s committed.

Little does Danny know that he will soon feel the wrath of Mr. Happy.

Now I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Happy on more than one occasion. Nannette is quite proud of his six inch phallic physique and the various attachments and settings which make playing with him so much fun. She’s even described–in vivid XXX detail–the singular pleasure of combining the “jelly tease sleeve” with the quick, repetitive jabs of the “jack rabbit” setting. It seems Nannette plays a lot with Mr. Happy when she’s home alone.

So this particular night, Nannette is home alone when she hears Danny’s car pulling into the driveway. Caught of guard, because–like I said–they are in the middle of this huge, on-going spat and she didn’t expect to hear from him, Nannette grabs Mr. Happy and runs into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Three sheets to the wind, as he usually is, Danny still manages to get his key to work in the lock and get inside the house. Seeing the light under the bathroom door, he knocks, begging Nannette to come out, saying that he is sorry and just “wants to talk.” Nanette refuses, telling him to leave. Instead, Danny goes to the kitchen and gets a beer.

He returns to the bathroom door, most likely to continue his snake oil pitch for redemption, because, after all, Nanette always eventually bestows forgiveness. But he hears a low buzz, buzz, buzz–perhaps even a moan or two. Even in his drunken state, Danny is able to finally put two and two together.

“God damn it, Nanette,” he yells into the wooden door, “I know what you are doing in there. You just stop that right now and get your ass out here.” But Nanette doesn’t stop. In fact, her moans become louder.

Danny tries a different approach. “Baby, you know that I love you. I can take care of you better than that thing. Come out here, honey.” Nanette only moans louder.

Obviously Nanette is having much too fun with Mr. Happy to pay any attention to Danny’s pleas. While Nanette continues her-noisier and noisier–climb to orgasmic bliss, Danny is reduced to jealous tears, pounding on the door, begging, whimpering, pleading. But Nanette has better things to do, as he soon hears when she begins screaming in orgasmic release.

The outcome of all of this?

Eventually, since she and Mr. Happy were done for the night, Nanette unlocked the door, emerging from her little “love shack” to find Danny, literally on his knees in supplication. He’d been defeated, at least for that night, by six inches of plastic.

Oh! Another thing? Nanette has a tendency to talk a lot, she’s such a bouncy, perky type. So every time she gets around to telling this particular story? Danny gets dicked again. Now there’s some lip-licking–yes, there is a god–cosmic justice for you!

Note: The precise name of the toy Nanette plays with is Tawnys' G Spot Tickler, by Doc Johnson. Also available: Janine's Tickler and Savanna's Tickler.

 

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Angela St. Lawrence is the PhoneSex Operator of choice for the thinking man. While she's been called many things by her clients ("The way she riffs on matters sexual and otherwise, she is my white Billie Holiday" & "A 21st century Anais Nin with just a touch of Machiavelli."), mostly she just likes to be called Angela. Make sure you visit her award winning website -- and her blog, Zen Fetish.


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