Jamie grinned as he stared down at the sight before him.
Not but smooth leg and thigh and thong, all belonging to his girlfriend/one-night stand, Lynn.
Oh, but the most beautiful part of all, was the thong.
It was a pale, shimmering blue, almost lavender in hue.
It excited him like no other, made him want to eat it.
Or, take it and run away and wear it; he particularly enjoyed the hobby of cross-dressing.
After all, wouldn’t you, if you looked damn fine in a dress and stiletto heels, and even got offers to prostitute your body on the street from unsuspecting, straight males?
All in all, though, Jamie knew he had a duty. And he must do, or rather, done did, his doody to his girlfriend, Lynn.
So, he prepared to take off the thong and not eat it, but rather, what was inside of it.
However, just as he was about to sink his teeth into that tasty thong and pull it down her legs …
It spoke.
The thong spoke to him!
“Hey, what are you doing?” it exclaimed, moving as it spoke—as though it were really talking to him! Which, of course, was impossible … right?
“Uhh …” He just kinda stared at it, not really knowing what to do. After all, he’d never before encountered a talking thong. Well … maybe when he was drunk or high, but he was certainly neither of those at the moment!
Was he?
“Jamie?” asked the high-pitched, rather whiny tone of his girlfriend, Lynn, “What’s the matter? I thought you were going to eat me out!” he could hear the tears in her voice, as it became more nasal, and so much more painful to his poor, mistreated ears. “What, am I not good enough for you? Are you going to tell me that my vagina stinks, just because I haven’t taken a shower in two years? You know it’s a protest! A protest for the rights of people who have no showers, that I don’t take them, because some people just can’t, so I’m protesting that! It’s for a good cause, dammit! And you told me you supported me in all my just causes! DAMN YOU JAMIE I’M GOING TO—”
“Now, Lynn,” he said in a calm and soothing voice, which was anything like the thoughts running through his head which included, but were not limited to, murder. “It’s not that! I’m just … in awe of the beauty of your thong.”
“Oh, that old thing? Just rip it off and get done with it!”
“Ok,” he replied.
But just as his hand reached out to rip it off ….
“HEY!! DON’T DO THAT YOU PUSSY THIEF!!”
Jamie jumped back and stared at the thong. It had moved and spoken again, in that deep, husky yet feminine voice that was very distinctive, kinda like the stench that came from his girlfriend’s vagina.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked the thong, “Never seen a talking thong before?”
Jamie shook his head.
“Well, get used to it! Cuz I’m Lynn’s favorite thong! Her most favoritist favorite thong, even more favorite than the lacy black one that you like to suck on and use as a napkin in between meals!”
Jamie blushed. He hoped that Lynn hadn’t heard.
“Does … does Lynn know about you?” he whispered to the thong. “That you talk, I mean.”
“Hah! Of course not! She wouldn’t understand. No one ever understands! And people fear what they don’t understand. Therefore, according to the transitive property, She would fear me if she knew! And if she feared me, she’d either throw me out or sell me as a used thong. Therefore, I’ve made my voice so that she can’t hear me! So she just thinks you’re sittin’ there staring at her thong for no damn good reason! AHAHAHAHAHA!! LOSER!”
Jamie was taken aback by this revelation.
“I AM NOT A LOSER!” he shouted at the thong, too late realizing his mistake.
“What are you talking about, Jamie??” Lynn screeched.
“Umm, nothing … I mean … I’m just … you know … umm … people have told me … that … I’m really bad in bed, and uh … that I’m … a … loser.” He hung his head in shame, as he lied through his teeth.
“Oh, you poor thing!” Lynn exclaimed.
“Heh, poor THONG, indeed,” smirked her thong.
“Why don’t you cum here and let me comfort you and judge you for myself?” Lynn asked.
“Don’t mind if I do!”
But as he began his descent once again, her thong began to talk at him… again.
“No! You don’t know what you’re doing! Stop it!!”
“Oh, shut up,” he growled.
Then he unceremoniously ripped off her thong, and threw it aside.
But then …
Her lips, the lower ones, were laughing at him, in the thong’s husky voice!
“What the …”
Lynn’s annoying, nasal laughter (plus a few snorts) replaced the other—but her lips, the lower ones, continued to laugh along with her trilling laughter.
“What’s going on here, Lynn?”
“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me,” she blushed. “You see … I’m a ventriloquist.”
