Her finger transformed and grew into a large, hefty shaft of flesh. The perfect cock.
Alice pulled up her skirt and pressed the head against her folds, stroking herself. The cock felt hot, real. This was truly it. This was what Jack truly felt like.
A voice said, “What happened to the duke’s babies?”
Alice withdrew her hand with its floppy cock-finger and hid it behind her back.
It was the cat. He was back in the tree from out of nowhere.
“What?” she said.
“What happened to the duke’s babies?”
“They turned into piglets.”
“Ah! Very good,” the cat said and disappeared again.
Alice sighed with relief. Put the cock back between her thighs, imagined it was that moment. That first moment when Jack cried out her name, told her he loved her.
“Did you say ‘Chick Lit’?”
Alice rushed her hand behind her back again. Damn that cat! “What?”
“Did you say they turned into ‘Chick Lit’?”
“No, I said ‘piglets.’ “
“Ah!” The cat said. “Well that’s okay, then.”
“I wish you wouldn’t appear and disappear so suddenly,” Alice said. “It’s very…disruptive.”
“Precisely,” the cat smiled. “Goodbye, then.”
The Cheshire cat slowly disappeared with just his grin left floating in the air until that, too, faded away.
Alice looked at her hand, the wobbly cock sticking up. “It’s like my finger,” Alice said. She soon had her regular hand back. I better try climaxing later, when I’m certain to not be interrupted, Alice decided and trampled down the path to the Hare.
Chapter 16
Alice took the path toward the Hare. After a few minutes of walking through a quiet forest, she arrived at an enormous house that must have belonged to the Hare for the path ended there. In front of the house was a long table decorated with china teacups, teapots, teakettles, and teaspoons. Two men sat with a sleeping woman between them. One of the men had a Roman nose and big jaw, wore an orange shirt and green vest, and an enormous top hat. Clearly, the Hatter. His orange shirt sported a picture of a teapot on it. Ridiculous. Shirts with tea illustrations on them. Alice decided such tea-shirts would never stay in fashion long.
The other man was, well, yum. The signs must have made a spelling error. The sign should have read "Bare." This other man was naked, muscle-clad, and covered with hair. The woman had a beautiful flow of blonde hair draped over her shoulders. She, too, was naked. She slept leaning back in her chair.
As Alice approached, she could hear their discussion more clearly.
“Some more tea?” the Hatter asked the Hare.
“Yes, please.”
The Hatter poured, but as far as Alice could tell, nothing came out of the spout.
“Milk?” the Hatter asked.
“Yes, please,” the Hare replied.
The Hatter placed the empty teacup directly under the woman’s breast and tweaked her nipple. The woman giggled in her sleep and her nipple hardened. But no milk had come from it.
Alice did a quick check and squeezed her own nipple. No milk.
She walked over to the table just as the Hatter handed the teacup past the woman to the Hare.
It wasn’t until Alice took a seat across from the three that the Hatter noticed her.
“You can’t sit there,” the Hatter said. “There isn’t enough room.”
“There’s plenty of room,” Alice protested.
“Alright then,” the Hatter said. “If you want join us, you must figure out the one thing that is wrong about this poem. ‘Twinkle twinkle goes your eye, as I finger you to cry. Moan above my fingers’ thrusts, like a tortured soul of lust.’ ”
Alice scowled.
“Well?” the Hatter asked.
“Well, everything seems wrong with that poem.” Alice folded her arms across her chest.
“Ha! You can’t find the one thing, can you?”
“I give up,” Alice said. “What’s the one thing wrong with it?”
“Beats me.” The Hatter turned to the Hare, “Do you know?”
The Hare shrugged, his flexing muscles glistening in the sunlight.
The woman blurted out, “I love you, Hare!” And mumbled back into sleep.
“Well then, have some more tea, Mr. Hare.” The Hatter poured another cup of emptiness.
“Milk?” The Hatter asked.
“Of course,” the Hare said.
The Hatter pinched the woman’s nipple again, over the empty cup. She giggled, and then snored.
Alice asked, “Why do you pinch her nipples all the time?”
The Hatter said, “Why, to get milk for our tea, of course.”
“But there is no milk.”
“There is no tea, either,” sighed the Hatter. “Honestly. Do keep up.”
The woman shouted, “I love you, Hatter!” And mumbled back to sleep.
“Who is she, anyway?” Alice asked.
The Hare said, “This is Minnie. The most wonderful woman in the world.”
Minnie cried out, “Kiss, please!”
The Hare kissed Minnie’s lips until Minnie fell back to sleep.
He turned to Alice and said, “Would you like to hear a story? Minnie tells the best stories!”
“Yes, very much!” Alice said.
The Hatter lovingly brushed Minnie’s hair past her ear and whispered, “Minnie, wake up. It’s story time.”
Minnie’s eyes fluttered from a dream. She looked back and forth between the Hatter and the Hare. “Oh, good,” she said smiling. “It wasn’t just a dream.”
The Hare kissed her cheek and said, “It’s story time.”
“But I don’t have a book to read from.”
Alice jumped in. “I have a book.” She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the title. “But it’s broken.”
“How can a book be broken?” asked Minnie.
“It says, ‘The Story of OMH,’ but that’s not right.”
“Let me see,” said the Hatter with an outstretched arm.
He took the book and showed it to Minnie. Minnie said, “You’re correct. That’s not right.”
Alice nodded.
“It doesn’t say, ‘The Story of OMH,’ ” Minnie said. “It says ‘The Story of O.’ ”
“Really?” Alice said. She rounded the table to look over Minnie’s shoulder. As far as Alice could see, it read, “The Story of OMH.” She took the book from Minnie’s hands and read to herself the beginning. “Old Mother Hubbard lived in a cupboard…”
“You better read it aloud,” Alice said giving the book back to Minnie. “It seems to work with you.”
Minnie started on page one and it was just how Alice remembered it. The starting scenes of O meeting her lover Rene at the park, taking the taxi ride, taking off her panties and Rene removing her bra before arriving at a chateau, the scene where O is bathed by two chambermaids, then dressed in a collar and bracelets and cape, and paraded in front of anonymous men…
Alice, the Hatter, and the Hare listened in silence as the erotic words left Minnie’s lips. Alice admired how the Hatter and Hare gazed upon Minnie with love in their eyes. Such a contrast to The Story of O. Every so often, the Hatter and the Hare drank from their teacups. Alice ignored the ridiculousness of them drinking nothing and listened to Minnie’s reading.
“ ‘Finally, finished with her, they moved away…’ ” Then Minnie stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Alice asked.
“What do they mean by ‘finished’?” Minnie said.
“You know,” Alice said. “They had an orgasm.”
“What’s an ‘orgasm’?” Minnie asked.
Alice scowled feeling confused. Did Minnie have the same problem with reaching climax?
“You know when you have sex?” Alice asked.
The Hatter said, “Male or female?”
“No,” Alice said. “Sex like what they were talking about in the book.”
The Hare said, “They weren’t talking about gender?”
“No!”
Minnie murmured, “I think I may have completely misunderstood this story.”
The Hare and Hatter looked at Minnie and nodded sympathetically.
Alice looked at the three of them. They seemed to love each other so much. And without having made love. Alice realized she could be the one to take them to a whole new height of appreciating each other. With both the Hatter and the Hare, there was ample penetration that could even provide Minnie with the orgasm she so deserved.