My Dead Wife, Part IV



You know, grandparents are funny things...not funny like "The Holocaust" funny, but funny like a toddler's operation "gone bad."

Anyway, as part of my DeVry training, I was given the opportunity to babysit my dear, old gradpaps. Paps, like most people, is like an ancient warrior prince, walking around exterminating the Hobbits like a big, damn hero. He was always smiling, that kind of smile you get when you choke on tears and convulse and go:

"Nooooo...WHY!!!!!!????"

Ha! You tell 'em, grandpaps! He'd tell me I was all he had left, and, how if I ever disturbed his mind in any way, it would just kill him. That settled it - after all, we could ALL use some cheering up:

"Hey paps - what do you get when you cross a rabbi with a pain in the ass?"

"Eh...I-I-I d-d-don't know, m-m-my dear h-heart.."

"WRONG! You get the fucking Lord of the Dance, bitch!!!"

"B-b-bi-" he he spluttered, his hands feebly covering his gasping mouth.

So now my clothes are off and so am I - doing the most feverishly sexy belly dance I can think of. As there is no music aloud in the home, I am forced to mutter erotic epithets under my breath to keep the beat.

"You like what you see?" I whisper shrilly into his ear, in my best throaty woman's voice.

"My G-g-god...oh deliver me, l-l-ord," he pants.

"You'll never get your mits on THIS body, you hot, fucking baby..." I hiss, nibbling his earlobe. "Time for you shot sir, now bend the HELL OVER!"

Needles to say, I couldn't afford the pine box for old paps...sure gonna miss him, though...


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