The Complete Sparkling Vampire Parody Collection (1-4) Read Online Free
Author: Lacy Maran, Kevin Michael
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Hunky also thought it would be pretty neato if we got hitched. Then we could bump nasties the respectable way. But did I really want to get married so young? What would the other vampires think of me just giving my genital giblets away to honeymoon horniness at the first sign of adulthood? Then again, it wasn't everyday you ran into an impossibly hot 104 year old (and bravo on living over a century without even developing even a hint of a personality).
So the stage was set for the epic shotgun marriage of the year (yippee for haphazard matrimony). But unfortunately I had to go and get two dreamy hunks to fall in love with me (my dateless friends just didn't understand how hard it was having shirtless hot men fall all over themselves for you). My old wolfie buddy took time away from sniffing other werewolves butts long enough to declare his undying love for me. Now back in the days when I had the worst perm in the history of hair gel, I used to dream about hot guys fighting over me. But as someone who hated math, love triangles sucked.
Still, I let Second Fiddle and his shirtless hunkiness say his piece:
"The wolf in me wants to hump your leg like a wanton jackhammer," Second Fiddle said. "But the six packed hunk in me wants to love the shit out of you--even when you get so old that you're pooping in your adult diapers and can't remember where you left your dentures."
"Wow. That's a creepy amount of love." But instead of being put off, I was totally giddy. "A girl can never have enough over the top grandstanding."
"Does that mean you'll run off with me into a field of daisies where we can giggle at each others stupidity and take each others reproductive organs for a spin?"
"I'm sorry, but you know my ovaries are already reserved for Hunky McBrooding. Besides, I only run through fields of pussy willows. Daisies? Sheesh, what kind of a hussy do you take me for?"
"No no no. I respect every inch of your exquisite deliciousness. And I worship the magnificent symphony of your irrepressible being. Even your farts bring me unmitigated glee. Not to mention that time you had pink eye--absolute rapture," Second Fiddle cooed.
"Second Fiddle, you could find a way to make projectile vomiting sound sweet. Surely you could find a much more chipper girl to want to stick your naughty bits into."
"I don't want a nicer, smarter, hotter girlfriend. I want you. Besides, I've been doing dong pushups just for you."
"You have such convincing arguments. It's going to be really hard to crush your soul beyond recognition."
"Did I mention I'm friends with some unicorns? I could probably introduce you if give my wang a chance."
"I'm sorry. But as I mercilessly turn your heart into mulch, just know that you never had a shot to begin with. Now, off to my brooding bedfellow."
"Fine. Then you leave me no choice but to convince you with my soft tender lips." Second Fiddle then gave me a big time smoocheroo.
The kiss hijacked my body with giddy bliss, then my brain went and got in the way (see, thinking really was bad for you). What about my hunk at home? Could I really picture spending the rest of my life with a wolf that enjoyed sticking his head out the window on car rides? Besides, imagine how hairy out kids would be.
I immediately put a stop to the peckeroo in progress and gave Second Fiddle a look of righteous anger for good measure before slugging his ruggedly handsome face.
***
Hunky was none too happy about a sly dog trying to put the moves on my tonsils. I acted offended too, but really my taste buds were intrigued. So while Hunky furiously told Second Fiddle off, my head took a field trip to the magical of "what if?" Things only got more complicated when Second Fiddle profusely apologized, leaving me with a lot of thinking to do (gosh, using my brain was a real bummer).
Unfortunately my good for nothing noggin hadn't decided which impossibly hunky guy to lust
Hunky also thought it would be pretty neato if we got hitched. Then we could bump nasties the respectable way. But did I really want to get married so young? What would the other vampires think of me just giving my genital giblets away to honeymoon horniness at the first sign of adulthood? Then again, it wasn't everyday you ran into an impossibly hot 104 year old (and bravo on living over a century without even developing even a hint of a personality).
So the stage was set for the epic shotgun marriage of the year (yippee for haphazard matrimony). But unfortunately I had to go and get two dreamy hunks to fall in love with me (my dateless friends just didn't understand how hard it was having shirtless hot men fall all over themselves for you). My old wolfie buddy took time away from sniffing other werewolves butts long enough to declare his undying love for me. Now back in the days when I had the worst perm in the history of hair gel, I used to dream about hot guys fighting over me. But as someone who hated math, love triangles sucked.
Still, I let Second Fiddle and his shirtless hunkiness say his piece:
"The wolf in me wants to hump your leg like a wanton jackhammer," Second Fiddle said. "But the six packed hunk in me wants to love the shit out of you--even when you get so old that you're pooping in your adult diapers and can't remember where you left your dentures."
"Wow. That's a creepy amount of love." But instead of being put off, I was totally giddy. "A girl can never have enough over the top grandstanding."
"Does that mean you'll run off with me into a field of daisies where we can giggle at each others stupidity and take each others reproductive organs for a spin?"
"I'm sorry, but you know my ovaries are already reserved for Hunky McBrooding. Besides, I only run through fields of pussy willows. Daisies? Sheesh, what kind of a hussy do you take me for?"
"No no no. I respect every inch of your exquisite deliciousness. And I worship the magnificent symphony of your irrepressible being. Even your farts bring me unmitigated glee. Not to mention that time you had pink eye--absolute rapture," Second Fiddle cooed.
"Second Fiddle, you could find a way to make projectile vomiting sound sweet. Surely you could find a much more chipper girl to want to stick your naughty bits into."
"I don't want a nicer, smarter, hotter girlfriend. I want you. Besides, I've been doing dong pushups just for you."
"You have such convincing arguments. It's going to be really hard to crush your soul beyond recognition."
"Did I mention I'm friends with some unicorns? I could probably introduce you if give my wang a chance."
"I'm sorry. But as I mercilessly turn your heart into mulch, just know that you never had a shot to begin with. Now, off to my brooding bedfellow."
"Fine. Then you leave me no choice but to convince you with my soft tender lips." Second Fiddle then gave me a big time smoocheroo.
The kiss hijacked my body with giddy bliss, then my brain went and got in the way (see, thinking really was bad for you). What about my hunk at home? Could I really picture spending the rest of my life with a wolf that enjoyed sticking his head out the window on car rides? Besides, imagine how hairy out kids would be.
I immediately put a stop to the peckeroo in progress and gave Second Fiddle a look of righteous anger for good measure before slugging his ruggedly handsome face.
***
Hunky was none too happy about a sly dog trying to put the moves on my tonsils. I acted offended too, but really my taste buds were intrigued. So while Hunky furiously told Second Fiddle off, my head took a field trip to the magical of "what if?" Things only got more complicated when Second Fiddle profusely apologized, leaving me with a lot of thinking to do (gosh, using my brain was a real bummer).
Unfortunately my good for nothing noggin hadn't decided which impossibly hunky guy to lust
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