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JITTERBUG old mason jar Inside were dozens


Author's note: This is a work of erotic fiction. If
you're not of legal age to be reading it, then please
don't. The story is copyright by me, Souvie, so
please no reposting unless you've gotten permission
from me first. Archiving, as long as you make no
money from it, is allowed. In the spirit of the Blow
Job Principle, I welcome any and all comments. Email
me at femNOSPACEecrivain at netdot dot com
or use the handy form on my website:

This story is what happens when I watch tv late at
night, and try to talk in icq at the same time. <g>


by Souvie
copyright October 2000


The man turned on the lights when he entered the hotel room. He
put a brown paper bag down on a small, battered table beside the
bed, and took out an old mason jar. Inside were dozens of
bugs, all shapes and kinds, crawling all over each other,
looking for a way of escape. He rubbed his hands together and
smiled. He still had a few minutes until Vanda was due to


Alfie felt like screaming. In fact he did, as a rather large
grasshopper stepped on his head. "Stupid morons," he mumbled.
"We've been shut in here for hours and no one has found a way
out yet. It's not likely to happen anytime soon, either, I tell

As usual, he was ignored. Actually, he probably couldn't be
heard above the din. Other bugs were shouting, calling for
help, plus there was the scraping of legs against bodies as the
ones who hadn't already resigned themselves to whatever fate
awaited them, scrambled to find a way out.

Suddenly the panic level in the jar subsided, as eyes turned
what was happening outside the jar.


The man scrambled off the bed at the first knock. "Vanda,
love," he said, kissing the raincoat-clad woman full on the lips
as she stepped into the room. She tossed off her coat,
revealing a black leather corset, garter belt with matching
stockings, and impossibly high heels.

"Do you got the music?" she asked, her accented voice omitting
some of the words.

He clicked on a portable CD player; nothing was more sexy than
the tango. He got comfortable on the bed, opening his trousers
and taking out his limp cock. He ran his hand over the head,
and licked his lips. Showtime.


Alfie held on for dear life as the lid was wrenched off and the
jar upended, bugs falling out upon the floor.

Alfie gave in to his panic and screamed.

The woman started dancing in time to the music, her heels
beating out a sharp staccato, smashing the bugs on the floor
into gooey little smears.

The man's cock was at full mast now, his hand pumping in time
with the tempo.

The keening of the remaining bugs reached an all-time high.
Alfie wished for ear plugs. Then he wished for ears.


The man was just on the verge of orgasm, and Alfie was already
counting katydid days over, when in through the
window came the largest swarm of dragonflies that Alfie, or the
two humans, had ever seen.

The woman started screaming hysterically. The man was torn
between finishing his orgasm, or pulling up his pants and
getting the hell out of there.

Alfie was caught in the pandemonium (hard to jump when you're
at the bottom of a dogpile of beetles). He'd managed to push
his way through when he looked up and saw a size 11 shoe headed
his way. He froze.



One minute he was facing impending doom, the next he was
clutched in the grasp of a soaring dragonfly. He looked up.

"You looked like you could use some help," his irridescent-
winged rescuer replied.

"What in the heck is going on?"

"Hell, we all heard the largest damn dragonfly orgy going on in
here, and wanted to get in on the action. Since I don't see any
lady dragonflies, I guess it was something else we heard."

Alfie felt like laughing, crying, and praying all at the same
time. He breathed in the fresh air as Harold headed through the
window, out into the night. "Where do you want me to let you

"Anywhere," Alfie hollered, to be heard over the rushing wind.
"You know that field over by the new Wal-Mart?"

"Yeah, you want off there?"



Any reply Harold would have made was gone forever, just as
Harold was. He'd not been paying close attention to the area
around them, trying to remember where the new Wal-Mart was, and
got nailed by a car. A car traveling at 65 miles per hour, and
a dragonfly moseying on along, add up to one dead dragonfly.

Alfie screamed in horror as his friend and savior was
obliterated, and he fell with a jolt to the hood of the car.
Actually he was wedged in between the windshield and the hood of
the car, down near the wipers.

As luck would have it, the driver turned the wipers on. "Oh
shiiiiiiiiiittttt!" Alfie called into the night as he went
flying off the car.


Alfie crawled into his little house just as the sun was peeking
over the horizon. He tried not to wake up his wife.

"Just where have you been, mister?"

Alfie cringed at the shrill voice. He hadn't been quiet enough.

"I've had a bad night, Gladys, all I want is to get some

"You've been hanging around that dumpster, haven't you?
Sipping that fermented dumpster-wine. Laughing with your
buddies about how you left the old ball and chain back at home,
Well I'll tell you, mister -"

She got close enough to smell him.

"What's that? Is that perfume? And... dragonfly? You've been
down at Marty's Cross-Species Cantina haven't you, seeing one of
his women? You've... you've had your wings rubbed by someone
else!" She broke down into tears, wailing about how it would
scar the children for life if they ever found out, and wondering
why she wasn't good enough for him.

Alfie sighed and covered his head with a leaf.


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