Halloween Frankenstein Sexual Fantasy
I was stuck in the mad scientist’s lair on the dark dirty night of Halloween. Thunder echoed across the sky. The man was insane yet a genius. I was unsure exactly what role he intended for me to play, as I was not even remotely intellectually on par with him. The Monster he’d created had run off and refused to return until a bride had been created for him. One would think that such a request be delivered in a virgin state, if possible for such a thing, considering it was pieced together from the stolen bits of the dead.
Instead the good doctor seemed insistent that everything work, as clearly the male counterpart had worked (although I refused to ask how the fellow knew this). Just so, he declared that he needed to record the experiment and could not risk becoming intimately involved with what would be the bride of his “son”. Ah so there was my use… I was to ensure that she had the proper reactions for a female, in whatever intimate way was necessary. I really hoped I was drunk enough to do it under such scrutiny.
I approached, first, her breasts. Gently running fingers over her flesh, I observed that the nipples tightened, lifted, and colored. This was a positive sign. Her skin seemed to quiver, and I was not overly interested in spending too much time on any one area. I lightly tested each known erogenous zone, working from her ears down, and from her feet up, all the while feeling my own reaction building.
By the time I got to her pussy, it was fairly clear that she was experiencing the proper reaction. I looked to the mad scientist to gauge from him if I should continue or stop. He motioned me forward, tilting the table the monster’s bride to be was on, to provide better access. I considered this perhaps misguided. What if she took a liking to me? What would my fate be? But the doctor left me with little choice, indeed the glint of madness indicated to me that he would not be satisfied until he witnessed her ability to organism. I dared not tell him that she might not have it, as the clit itself seemed to be duller in sensation then one might find to be ideal.
Having no other choice in the matter, I exposed myself, stroking my own flesh and hoping that I could perform well enough to make up for the obvious defect. My fears ended up being short lived, as the thrust of entry seemed to rouse her into an explosion of sensation. I was amazed myself at the skillful reconstruction of the interior. She was perfectly moist, with just enough friction to provide an extremely intense experience. Then again I passed out when I reached climax, and when I woke, I was not the same. In fact, I seem to have become part of the Monster. I can only wish that my Frankenstein Fleshlight was free from the mad scientist’s trickery…
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