crydun
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Here's my latest. It is dedicated to Eric Von Zipper. Thanks for the inspiration, friend!!!!
It was growing late. Fireflies buzzed through the fir trees around a small log cabin deep in the woods of Minnesota. Eric Von Zipper sat on the front porch in the handmade rocking chair that was handmade. His grandfater had crafted it by hand in the 1930s, shortly after he and Eric's grandmother had immigrated from Ireland. Grandpa Nathan had built the entire cabin by the sweat of his own two hands. Eric remembered walking with his grandfather along the lake as a child. Grandpa Nate always told such exciting stories about coming to America, the land of opportunity. "You can't take anything for granted if you're Irish!" he would admonish Eric during their walks."We have worked so hard for what we have. Never settle for less, Eric."
Eric took his grandfather's words to heart. Not only did he never settle, he always made it a point to be his own man and do his own thing. He wore bright colors a lot in school, something his classmates liked to heckle him about. Although it hurt him deep down, he didn't let it change him. To this day, purple was still his favorite color and he really didn't care what anyone thought about it. He just went on about his way. He wasn't a genius but he wasn't dumb either. He had graduated high school and went on to graduate college with a degree in engineering. He had money but chose to live simply. After Grandpa Nate died in the early nineties, Eric had uprooted his life in upstate New York and moved back into his Grandpa's cabin in Minnesota.
Eric was a very lonely man. Although he had dated off and on over the years, he had never really found true love. On lonely nights, when the wind howled and rattled the cabin's doors, Eric longed for someone to hold. His kinky passion made it harder. Eric loved to tickle women. The more ticklish, the better. The sound of a woman's laughter made him feel energized, refreshed, and at times, giddy. His treasured feather collection was kept in a glass case over the fireplace. As he thought of this, he smiled to himself. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the last girl he had used them on. It was his ex-girlfriend Ginger Ann. She had long flowing dark auburn hair, violet eyes and a beautiful smile. She had the kind of laugh that involved her entire body. Her eyes crinkled, her mouth opened and her body shook. He smiled as he remembered the first time he'd brought her to his cabin. They'd had a dinner date and he'd convinced her to spend the rest of the weekend at his cabin. When they'd entered the cabin, her eyes immediately took in the glass box above the fireplace.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing.
"My feather collection, he said, smiling.
"What do you do with it?" she inquired.
"Would you like me to show you?" he asked.
"Sure, I guess" she replied hesitantly.
"Have a seat in the recliner," he said matter-of-factly.
She sat in the navy recliner. The massage feature had been turned on. It was warm and inviting. Ginger relaxed and closed her eyes.
"You can take your shoes off if you'd like, replied Eric warmly from the background. She took the invite and removed her shoes. She had just gotten off work and her feet were killing her. Placing them neatly by the chair, she eased back into the chair and relaxed again. Her eyes closed and she started to doze off.
She awoke with a start. She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping or what time it was. She felt a tickling sensation on her foot. The more she tried to ignore it, the worse it got. Unable to hold it in any longer, she exploded into convulsive laughter. She looked down to see Eric tickling her foot with a feather.
"Eric!!!" she squealed, What are you doing?"
"You asked me what I did with them. I'm just showing you, he replied calmly.
He took the feather and weaved it in and out of her toes. Ginger Ann shrieked with hysterical laughter. Her arms thrashed and her legs jerked as she fought to avoid the feather that twisted nimbly in Eric's huge hands. He moved it up to her exposed tummy. As he drug the feather up her tummy, Ginger Ann twisted and shrieked wildly. The laughter went on for what seemed like hours. When it was over, Ginger sat in the chair, breathing heavily.
The strange thing was, she had felt so ticklish and desparate just a moment ago, yet now that it was over, she wanted more. Ginger had always loved to be tickled in her youth. When her father came home from his job as banker, she would run to him and wrap her arms around his leg. He would pick her up and toss her in the air. She would squeal delightedly as she felt the air tickle her tummy on the way down.
"Eric," she called softly from the recliner.
'Yes," he inquired, looking at her from the sofa.
"Get that feather back out. I want more!"
Eric sprang from the sofa delightedly. They continued the reckless play into the wee hours of the morning. Ginger even retaliated at one point, tickling his underarms, causing Eric to shriek with hysterical laughter of his own. She went at it again, causing him to lose his breath.
When the sun rose over the lake, the two lay exhausted on the cabin floor. Eric made omelettes for breakfast and Ginger went straight to work, leaving Eric to tinker around the house as he had the day off. Saturday and Sunday continued in the same fashion. Ginger left late Sunday night.
The moon was out when Eric went back into the cabin. He stoked the fire and stared at his feather collection hanging on the wall. What had ever happened to Ginger Ann? What happened between them? Why wasn't she beside him now?
Eric searched the old address book until he found her number. "Ginger Ann Williams" she had written in purple ink. He smiled, then picked up the telephone. He dialed the number and waited.
A familiar voice answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Ginger Ann?"
Laughter erupted on the other end. "No one has called me that in years. Who am I talking to?"
"Eric."
There was silence on the other end of the line."Von Zipper?"
"Yes," he replied into the phone.
"Hello there," she said pleasantly. "What is up?"
"Ginger, he began " I need you here. Will you marry me? I've been a fool, letting so many years slip away."
There was a deafening silence on the other end. "What took you so long?"
"Time and foolishness," he replied.
"Still living at the cabin?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there in the morning. And Eric?"
"yes, I will marry you."
Eric hung up the phone and went to bed with a spring in his step.
And somewhere in the night, deep in the forests of Minnesota, two souls are complete, each having made the other's heart home.
The End. Hope you liked it. Sorry it took so long to write. May the Lord bless you for your patience, Eric. love, crydun
It was growing late. Fireflies buzzed through the fir trees around a small log cabin deep in the woods of Minnesota. Eric Von Zipper sat on the front porch in the handmade rocking chair that was handmade. His grandfater had crafted it by hand in the 1930s, shortly after he and Eric's grandmother had immigrated from Ireland. Grandpa Nathan had built the entire cabin by the sweat of his own two hands. Eric remembered walking with his grandfather along the lake as a child. Grandpa Nate always told such exciting stories about coming to America, the land of opportunity. "You can't take anything for granted if you're Irish!" he would admonish Eric during their walks."We have worked so hard for what we have. Never settle for less, Eric."
Eric took his grandfather's words to heart. Not only did he never settle, he always made it a point to be his own man and do his own thing. He wore bright colors a lot in school, something his classmates liked to heckle him about. Although it hurt him deep down, he didn't let it change him. To this day, purple was still his favorite color and he really didn't care what anyone thought about it. He just went on about his way. He wasn't a genius but he wasn't dumb either. He had graduated high school and went on to graduate college with a degree in engineering. He had money but chose to live simply. After Grandpa Nate died in the early nineties, Eric had uprooted his life in upstate New York and moved back into his Grandpa's cabin in Minnesota.
Eric was a very lonely man. Although he had dated off and on over the years, he had never really found true love. On lonely nights, when the wind howled and rattled the cabin's doors, Eric longed for someone to hold. His kinky passion made it harder. Eric loved to tickle women. The more ticklish, the better. The sound of a woman's laughter made him feel energized, refreshed, and at times, giddy. His treasured feather collection was kept in a glass case over the fireplace. As he thought of this, he smiled to himself. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the last girl he had used them on. It was his ex-girlfriend Ginger Ann. She had long flowing dark auburn hair, violet eyes and a beautiful smile. She had the kind of laugh that involved her entire body. Her eyes crinkled, her mouth opened and her body shook. He smiled as he remembered the first time he'd brought her to his cabin. They'd had a dinner date and he'd convinced her to spend the rest of the weekend at his cabin. When they'd entered the cabin, her eyes immediately took in the glass box above the fireplace.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing.
"My feather collection, he said, smiling.
"What do you do with it?" she inquired.
"Would you like me to show you?" he asked.
"Sure, I guess" she replied hesitantly.
"Have a seat in the recliner," he said matter-of-factly.
She sat in the navy recliner. The massage feature had been turned on. It was warm and inviting. Ginger relaxed and closed her eyes.
"You can take your shoes off if you'd like, replied Eric warmly from the background. She took the invite and removed her shoes. She had just gotten off work and her feet were killing her. Placing them neatly by the chair, she eased back into the chair and relaxed again. Her eyes closed and she started to doze off.
She awoke with a start. She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping or what time it was. She felt a tickling sensation on her foot. The more she tried to ignore it, the worse it got. Unable to hold it in any longer, she exploded into convulsive laughter. She looked down to see Eric tickling her foot with a feather.
"Eric!!!" she squealed, What are you doing?"
"You asked me what I did with them. I'm just showing you, he replied calmly.
He took the feather and weaved it in and out of her toes. Ginger Ann shrieked with hysterical laughter. Her arms thrashed and her legs jerked as she fought to avoid the feather that twisted nimbly in Eric's huge hands. He moved it up to her exposed tummy. As he drug the feather up her tummy, Ginger Ann twisted and shrieked wildly. The laughter went on for what seemed like hours. When it was over, Ginger sat in the chair, breathing heavily.
The strange thing was, she had felt so ticklish and desparate just a moment ago, yet now that it was over, she wanted more. Ginger had always loved to be tickled in her youth. When her father came home from his job as banker, she would run to him and wrap her arms around his leg. He would pick her up and toss her in the air. She would squeal delightedly as she felt the air tickle her tummy on the way down.
"Eric," she called softly from the recliner.
'Yes," he inquired, looking at her from the sofa.
"Get that feather back out. I want more!"
Eric sprang from the sofa delightedly. They continued the reckless play into the wee hours of the morning. Ginger even retaliated at one point, tickling his underarms, causing Eric to shriek with hysterical laughter of his own. She went at it again, causing him to lose his breath.
When the sun rose over the lake, the two lay exhausted on the cabin floor. Eric made omelettes for breakfast and Ginger went straight to work, leaving Eric to tinker around the house as he had the day off. Saturday and Sunday continued in the same fashion. Ginger left late Sunday night.
The moon was out when Eric went back into the cabin. He stoked the fire and stared at his feather collection hanging on the wall. What had ever happened to Ginger Ann? What happened between them? Why wasn't she beside him now?
Eric searched the old address book until he found her number. "Ginger Ann Williams" she had written in purple ink. He smiled, then picked up the telephone. He dialed the number and waited.
A familiar voice answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Ginger Ann?"
Laughter erupted on the other end. "No one has called me that in years. Who am I talking to?"
"Eric."
There was silence on the other end of the line."Von Zipper?"
"Yes," he replied into the phone.
"Hello there," she said pleasantly. "What is up?"
"Ginger, he began " I need you here. Will you marry me? I've been a fool, letting so many years slip away."
There was a deafening silence on the other end. "What took you so long?"
"Time and foolishness," he replied.
"Still living at the cabin?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there in the morning. And Eric?"
"yes, I will marry you."
Eric hung up the phone and went to bed with a spring in his step.
And somewhere in the night, deep in the forests of Minnesota, two souls are complete, each having made the other's heart home.
The End. Hope you liked it. Sorry it took so long to write. May the Lord bless you for your patience, Eric. love, crydun
It was so amazing!
