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Twenty Had Me

Some Girls Like to help--number thirteen--the unlucky girl I used to spank

In 2005 through 2008 I published a lot of stories on RuthiesClub.com (no longer in operation). Ruthies had about a hundred writers and a lot of illustrating artists. In 2006 Ruthies issued a challenge to its writers: rearrange the letters of your name to form the title of a story, and write that tale as a 300 word flash story.

Flash stories are somewhat controversial. Some say that writing a complete story in so few words teaches a writer valuable skills. Others say that flash stories are exercises fit only for school.

I didn’t know if I’d be any good at creating an anagram, but I was in an airport waiting for a flight, forming words out of the letters of my name and crossing them off a list to see what was left, and I came upon a title that worked. If you rearrange Matthew Dyne you can form Twenty had Me. I used that title and wrote the following flash story in 289 words.


Twenty Had Me

By Matthew Dyne

I was starting in the trades, working for my uncle, when he sent me her way. She was roly-poly—full of girlish giggly jiggles. We were each other’s firsts. She hugged me tightly, with arms and legs, and came repeatedly.

The second wanted ABC’s. At the time ABC’s were all I knew. Three years later she earned her BA, sent her parents to their motel, and came to say goodbye. We worked all night on her PhD.

Six was the sweetest. Her name was Candy. I had to eat her: saltwater taffy with hints of wild cherry.

Ten was wild and squirmy and fucked like a snake. When she climaxed she bit me.

The dean’s daughter was number thirteen and always unlucky when she came to see me. “Bad girl,” I’d say, sternly. “Take it all off.”

“I’m a good girl, Daddy,” she whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

She’d lie over my lap, with her hands between her legs, as I blushed her cheeks.

Fifteen was wet as a rainforest: steamy, fragrant, and full of life. Her petals were orchids.

Tonight I’m staying in with twenty. She’s a princess, a real one, wanting to slum. She’s hot to model designer dresses—she likes to take them off and already teased me with glimpses of classy underwear. “You must keep me a secret,” she whispered. “I’ll give you something special.” Her father owns a harem.

I reamed their digs for years; you wouldn’t believe how much feminine product a sorority flushes in a year, or can’t. My quality is always up, my service is the best, I work hard, for long hours, and I price my work low. The fringe benefits are terrific. Thank you Uncle Bob, Master Plumber, retired.

Categories: Erotica, Sex, Spanking, Stories
  1. February 2, 2011 at 6:46 pm

    Another great blog Matt…totally impressed! Very clever indeed 🙂

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