Molly watched the man wander the room, studying various objects. He was quite taken with the television, and sat down “Indian Style” to study Dane Cook who was acting like a crazy alien. She clicked the phone off, but held it carefully to her chest, ready to dial in an instant.
The man looked over at her, completely puzzled. “What is this?” he spoke English, what a relief.
“It’s television, he’s a comedian.” Molly whispered in a rush of breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding.
“Comedian,” he rolled the world on his tongue like a wine connoisseur.
“Yes, he makes people laugh.” Molly explained.
He stood up suddenly, and moved to stand beside her, so that the one eyed snake was staring her down like a champion. It was chubby, and long, and she had a vision of a tiny sumo wrestler there waiting to push any adversary out of the circle. Molly covered her eyes modestly.
“You need some clothes.” Molly mumbled as she turned and fled deeper into her house in search of something decent.
The only thing in Molly’s entire wardrobe that might fit the chap were a pair of flannel PJs. She pulled them out and held them up. He stood in the door looking at her, the first naked man ever in her all too girlie bedroom.
“Put these on.” Molly ordered discreetly looking away from him. He took the clothes, and held them loosely to his chest.
“I don’t know what to do,” he informed her.
Molly groaned and shook her head. In the end she helped him put the clothes on. He began to protest midway through. Apparently clothes were not his idea of fun. Molly didn’t care much, because it was a necessary evil. In order to distract him, she tried talking.
“What’s your name?” Molly asked patiently as his penis wobbled in front of her face.
“Trevyn,” he said pushing his hips forward as the elastic snapped against his back. Molly glared at his cock as it came all too close to her nose. She was annoyed, and she couldn’t deny it.
“My name is Molly, a pleasure to meet you,” there she thought to herself that sounded normal. She finished buttoning the top, and stood back to examine her handiwork.
Trevyn looked completely miserable standing in Mr. Perfect’s unwanted pajamas. He looked like one of those cute puppies whose heads poke out from pink sweaters, with names like Frou-Frou, and Fluffy. He looked that miserable. Molly smiled at him encouragingly, and he seemed to relax ever so slightly. His shoulders slumping beneath the white fabric with the blue snowflakes that did much more for his eyes than they ever had for old boring brown eyes of Mr. P.
“You look dashing,” Molly lied, knowing secretly he looked much much better naked, but also knowing that she could never take him in public if he didn’t learn to cover his best features. “We need to find something that suits you better to wear out, but this is much better suited for indoor wear.”
Trevyn gave her that “I wasn’t meant to have clothes, this is unnatural look” that she associated with show dogs again, and then settled down beside her on the bed. He took her hand in his and held it tenderly, petting it as her father had once comforted her. She realized though that the gesture was much more to comfort him. She didn’t begrudge him the gesture, she thought she would have wanted human contact too if she had been thrust out of one world and into another.
The man looked over at her, completely puzzled. “What is this?” he spoke English, what a relief.
“It’s television, he’s a comedian.” Molly whispered in a rush of breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding.
“Comedian,” he rolled the world on his tongue like a wine connoisseur.
“Yes, he makes people laugh.” Molly explained.
He stood up suddenly, and moved to stand beside her, so that the one eyed snake was staring her down like a champion. It was chubby, and long, and she had a vision of a tiny sumo wrestler there waiting to push any adversary out of the circle. Molly covered her eyes modestly.
“You need some clothes.” Molly mumbled as she turned and fled deeper into her house in search of something decent.
The only thing in Molly’s entire wardrobe that might fit the chap were a pair of flannel PJs. She pulled them out and held them up. He stood in the door looking at her, the first naked man ever in her all too girlie bedroom.
“Put these on.” Molly ordered discreetly looking away from him. He took the clothes, and held them loosely to his chest.
“I don’t know what to do,” he informed her.
Molly groaned and shook her head. In the end she helped him put the clothes on. He began to protest midway through. Apparently clothes were not his idea of fun. Molly didn’t care much, because it was a necessary evil. In order to distract him, she tried talking.
“What’s your name?” Molly asked patiently as his penis wobbled in front of her face.
“Trevyn,” he said pushing his hips forward as the elastic snapped against his back. Molly glared at his cock as it came all too close to her nose. She was annoyed, and she couldn’t deny it.
“My name is Molly, a pleasure to meet you,” there she thought to herself that sounded normal. She finished buttoning the top, and stood back to examine her handiwork.
Trevyn looked completely miserable standing in Mr. Perfect’s unwanted pajamas. He looked like one of those cute puppies whose heads poke out from pink sweaters, with names like Frou-Frou, and Fluffy. He looked that miserable. Molly smiled at him encouragingly, and he seemed to relax ever so slightly. His shoulders slumping beneath the white fabric with the blue snowflakes that did much more for his eyes than they ever had for old boring brown eyes of Mr. P.
“You look dashing,” Molly lied, knowing secretly he looked much much better naked, but also knowing that she could never take him in public if he didn’t learn to cover his best features. “We need to find something that suits you better to wear out, but this is much better suited for indoor wear.”
Trevyn gave her that “I wasn’t meant to have clothes, this is unnatural look” that she associated with show dogs again, and then settled down beside her on the bed. He took her hand in his and held it tenderly, petting it as her father had once comforted her. She realized though that the gesture was much more to comfort him. She didn’t begrudge him the gesture, she thought she would have wanted human contact too if she had been thrust out of one world and into another.
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- ID: 38831
- Nickname: dress up
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