Felicia's Fine Furniture-- part three

Mar 30, 2006
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Felicia’s Fine Furniture—part 3

by

Couchman



Synopsis: A college man, Gregory, had an obsessive fantasy about being used as human furniture by women and sat on. It seemed like that was all he wanted in life, yet was aware of it ever happening in real life.
One afternoon he was driving along a deserted country road when his car began to accelerate and as he went through a worm hole into a parallel universe. This universe was exactly like earth with one striking exception: Men were totally dominated by women to the extent that they were literally used as seats for them to sit on. Excited by the prospect of his fantasy life becoming real, he soon discovered that, along with his sexual excitement, he had to endure a great amount of physical pain when he was bought by a woman and her three daughters to sit on.

Felicia’s Fine Furniture—part 3

Emily, the middle daughter at age 19 continued to sit on his face, while her younger sister Erica sat on his chest. He loved the feeling of Emily’s butt cheeks, covered by the green material of her tight dress, pressing heavily upon his face. His head was covered in oppressive darkness save for a slice of vision that permitted him to see the underside of her magnificent crossed legs. The combined weight of Erica, in blue jeans, atop his chest and Emily on his face forced his body deep into the couch. His air tube allowed him to breathe a little bit, but the weight of Emily’s perfectly proportioned body concentrated on his face was becoming very uncomfortable.

Suddenly Emily blurted out, “What do you think man seats feel about us sitting on them, mom?”

Her mother replied: “Well I’m sure they don’t like it… but, really, Emily, they’re only man seats… Who cares what they think?”

“I’m considering doing a video documentary on man seats,” said Emily. “ I could interview this one.”

“What would he have to say,” said Erica, her tight blue jean butt mashing his chest, “… please don’t sit on me?” She chuckled and bounced a few times on his chest.

Emily raised her butt a foot or so off his face and gazed down thoughtfully at him. Gregory stared up at her round butt hovering above him and decided that Emily was truly the sexiest of the three daughters.

“Do you mind if I sit on your face?” she asked him.

“Oh… Really,” said her mother. “It’s what he’s here for. He… knows… that.”

“But mom,” continued Emily, “he must have some opinion about being thought of as just something to sit on.”

Her mother, Erin, seemed a little upset that Emily would even consider his thoughts and feelings. “Emily,” she said, “Men haven’t been allowed an opinion or choice about anything for a long time. I don’t consider what a man seat feels or thinks… I just sit on him.”

“Me, too,” chirped Erica and bounced on his chest.

For a few moments more, Emily continued to gaze back down her torso at him. “I’m sure that I squish you when I sit on your face,” she said to him. “Don’t you care?”

Gregory remained silent. But to himself he thought: “Emily, you can sit on my face as much as you want.”

“Oh, well…” said Emily. “I’m going to sit on your face, whether you like it or not.” She rotated her hips, obscuring his vision of her lovely face and plopped her butt back down on his face and crossed her legs.

“I suppose you could interview him,” said her mother. “But I doubt if you’ll get much out of him. He’s been trained not to speak.”

Her fun-loving sister, Erica, added: “He can’t speak, anyway, with your big butt on his face.” She laughed.

“I don’t have a big butt,” said Emily.

“You might want to ask the man seat about that,” said Erica, chuckling.

“Maybe I will,” said Emily. “I’m gonna do it. I’m going to make a documentary on what it’s like to be a man seat.” She got up from his face. The third sister, Elise, got up from her computer chair and, swishing her pleated plaid mini skirt, approached the couch. “It should be a short documentary,” she said. Elise looked down at Gregory. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Elise and you’re a man seat. I’m going to sit on your face.” She turned around and her skirt flew over his head as she sat down on his face. “There,” she said, sarcastically. “ End of documentary.” Her panty clad butt pressed hot and heavy on his face as she sat, nonchalantly, on him. Aside from the pain of actually getting sat on like a piece of furniture, Gregory was loving this alternate universe. Apparently, these females didn’t think of him as a sexual being. Elise didn’t care if her skirt went over his face when she sat down on it because she had no idea it was turning him on. And he wanted to keep it that way. His cock warmed and began to grow as Elise sat on him, and he tried to restrain it. The women’s perception of him as not having sexual feelings made it possible for them to treat him without modesty. He was, to them, just something to sit on. At that point, Elise removed her butt from his face and walked back to the computer chair.

“He’s a seat, Emily,” she said. “… same as this seat.” She plopped down on the computer chair. Then she got up, came back to the couch, and sat down on Gregory’s face the same way. “See?” she said. “ The computer chair and his face are the same.”

“Not quite,” countered Emily. “The man seat is shaped like us… He has to breathe… he has to eat… and…”

“So… What?” said Elise. “I’ll still sit on his face… if I want to.” She crossed her tan thighs and made herself comfortable while Gregory lay mashed beneath her splendid butt.

“But what if he didn’t have the air tube?” asked Emily.

“I’d sit on his face,” said Elise. “I’d smother him to death… then we’d take him to the trash.”

Gregory thought: Elise, in all her physical beauty, was the coldest of them. Her assertion that she wouldn’t give it a second thought if she killed him sitting on his face sent shivers through his spine.

“Well we won’t do that,” said their mother, Erin. “I bought him for us to sit on… man seats aren’t cheap, you know.”

Elise got up from his face, the back of her skirt following her as she arose. Seizing the opportunity of an un-occupied face, Erica removed her butt from his chest and swiveled it over to his face. The tightened blue denim material of her butt was especially painful.

“My friend, Wendy, doesn’t sit on man seats,” she blurted out. “She says they’re people, and she won’t sit on them.”

“Wendy is kind of flaky,” said Elise.

“It’s true,” Erica continued. “We were at the mall… We saw a man seat there… He was a bench man seat… I sat down on his face… But Wendy wouldn’t sit on him… She said she didn’t want to hurt him.”

Her mother interjected: “Of course we hurt them when we sit on them… especially when we sit on their faces… But it’s all a matter of keeping men in their place… If I started feeling sorry for them I probably wouldn’t sit on them.”

“I’m going to get my camera,” said Emily, excited. “I’m going to try to make a documentary… if I can get him to speak.”

“I’ll help you,” offered Erica, as she got up from his face.

Elise stood next to the couch, her back to him. Gregory gazed up her skirt, up her smooth and tanned thighs to where they met with the twin globes of her butt, slightly covered by pink panty material.

“This is so dumb,” said Elise to her mom. “ Making a documentary on man seats… You just… sit on them.” She placed a hand on the hem of her skirt, gave it a backward flip, and sat down on his face.

“Oh… Let Emily have her fun,” said Erin. Gregory felt a sudden weight come down on his chest as her mother sat on him. He was amazed at how casually these females sat on him… so oblivious to his discomfort… His world was now filled with sexy female butts as they used his tortured body as an object to put their curvaceous weight upon.

Elise and her mom continued to sit on him, Elise on his face and her mom on his chest, as they changed the subject. Elise was telling her mom about one of her college classes as Gregory was made to endure their combined weight on top of him. They had been sitting on him for ten minutes or so when Elise thoughtlessly shifted her butt around and the air tube came lose. Panic and adrenalin flushed his body. Elise had no idea he couldn’t breathe at all while she continued to mash his face beneath her butt. He flailed his arm and tried to tap her leg.

“What’s he doing, mom?” asked Elise.

“Oh… nothing,” said Erin. “He’s probably just tired of us sitting on him… as if he has a choice.”

Gregory felt Elise grab his arm and push it away. “You just hush now,” she told him, “while I sit on your face.”

He groaned into her butt, yet Elise continued to sit heavily on his face, her legs crossed casually, as he grew weak from oxygen deprivation. “This is the end,” he thought to himself. “I’m going to be sat-on to death by Elise.” His body went limp and blackness overcame him.

The next thing he heard was Emily’s frantic voice. “What have you done to him!”

“I just sat on his face,” said Elise. “I didn’t know the air tube had come lose.”

His blurred vision began to clear. He blinked and looked up at Erin and her three daughters staring down at him.

“You could have killed him, Elise,” Emily reprimanded her sister.

“So?” said Elise, indifferently. “What good is a man seat if you have to be so careful sitting on him.”

“He has to breathe,” said Erin as she positioned the air tube back in his mouth. “There… He’ll be okay.” Gregory expected their mother, Erin, to give him some time to recover. He was surprised when she decided to sit down on his face, herself.

“You girls will simply have to be more careful when you sit on him,” she told her daughters as she crushed his face beneath her own womanly weight. “We can sit on his face as long as we want,” she added. “Just make sure the air tube is in place.”

A few more minutes elapsed while Erin used his face for a seat.

“That’s an expensive camera, Emily.” He heard her say.

“This documentary is going to be so cool!” exclaimed Emily. He heard Elise grumble something at the idea.

“Yeah… Cool!” added the enthusiastic Erica.

Their mother got up off his face. Gregory saw that Erica had changed into a mini-skirt and high heel sandals. So far, Erica had only sat on his face wearing jeans. He was excited at the prospect of her planting her lovely rump down on his face so he could view her butt and those lovely firm legs as she sat on him. Emily had a video camera and placed it on a tripod.

“Okay,” said Emily when she was satisfied with the camera position. “Here we go.” She turned the camera on and approached the couch where Gregory lay.

“I’m Emily,” she introduced herself to the camera. “And this is my sister, Erica.” Erica smiled and waved at the camera.

“As you can see,” she pointed to Gregory. “My mother has purchased this man seat. Man seats have become common, now that women have decided to take over the world.”

“As well we should have,” said her mother off camera.

“Also, as you know, man seats have been conditioned not to speak. We place them wherever we want and… well… Sit on them.”

“Should I?” bubbled Erica, preparing to sit down on his face.

“ Not yet,” said Emily.

Emily looked into the camera and then down at Gregory. “Erica is going to sit on your face,” Emily told Gregory. “How do you feel about that?”


Gregory felt a grin start to from in his lips and stifled it. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“But she’s going to squish you,” continued Emily. “How much do you weight, Erica?”

“About one twenty,” said Erica, hamming it up for the camera.

“A hundred twenty pounds,” repeated Emily. “And she’s going to sit… right… down… on…your… face… What I want to know is how do you feel about my sister Erica sitting on your face… with all her weight on top of you?”

“This is so dumb,” he heard Elise grumble off camera. Emily put a finger to her mouth to shush her and smiled sheepishly at the camera.

Gregory had no idea how to reply. He was excited about the promise of Erica sitting on his face… probably letting her skirt go over his head. But, no way, was he going to let them know.

“I realize,” said Emily, “that you man seats have been conditioned to let us women sit on you… but you… must… have some thoughts about it.” Her patience was waning.

Thought Gregory: “What does she want me to say… that I’m from another universe, a world where girls would never consider using a man as a seat, unless it’s on their lap? Does she want me to say yes! Yes! I love to be used as furniture and face sat.” The absurdity of his situation suddenly seemed hilarious. A bubble of laughter began to come out of his mouth. He clamped his lips over it.

“Look!” said Erica. “He was starting to laugh”

“That’s impossible,” said their mother. “Man seats don’t laugh… It was probably a cough. That would be expected, with you girls sitting on his face without the air tube.”

“Hmmm,” said Emily. “There is something… something different about this man seat.” She trained curious eyes on him. Gregory had a feeling he was going to have trouble with this one.

“Can I sit on him now?” asked an impatient Erica.

“Yes,” answered Emily.

Erica smiled at the camera and stepped up close to the couch.

“Oh, my!” thought Gregory. He’d been given some excellent up skirt views of their mother and her sister, Elise. But as Erica turned around and prepared to sit on his face, the underlining of her skirt, her smooth thighs and that tight butt, green polka dot panties clinging to it’s crevice, was more than he could endure. His cock sprang into his trousers like a jack in the box. Erica, legs together, accentuating the roundness of her bottom, sat down squarely on his face.

“As you can see,” Emily apparently was saying to the camera. “My sister Erica has just sat down on our man seat’s face.”

“He’s comfy,” commented Erica and crossed her legs.

“Yes. Of course,” said Emily. “But what is he thinking?

“Probably that I’m squishing him,” said Erica, chuckling.

“But what else might he be thinking?” pressed Emily. “… that he is being of service to us?”… “What?... What?”

“I think he has to pee,” offered Erica. “The thing man pee out of has gotten bigger.”

“Oh, oh,” thought Gregory. “Where is this going?”

… to be continued
 
Mar 30, 2006
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Thanks to everyone who has enjoyed the story so far. Let me apologize--again--for the long dry spells between chapters. I realize that it must irritate readers. The truth is my passion for human furniture style face sitting cools from many years of frustration, and my desire to write about it also cools. However, I do love to write. I may continue this story or start a new one. I just don't know.
 

hamsapchai

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Dec 11, 2002
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#13
Felicia’s Fine Furniture—part 3

by

Couchman



Synopsis: A college man, Gregory, had an obsessive fantasy about being used as human furniture by women and sat on. It seemed like that was all he wanted in life, yet was aware of it ever happening in real life.
One afternoon he was driving along a deserted country road when his car began to accelerate and as he went through a worm hole into a parallel universe. This universe was exactly like earth with one striking exception: Men were totally dominated by women to the extent that they were literally used as seats for them to sit on. Excited by the prospect of his fantasy life becoming real, he soon discovered that, along with his sexual excitement, he had to endure a great amount of physical pain when he was bought by a woman and her three daughters to sit on.

Felicia’s Fine Furniture—part 3

Emily, the middle daughter at age 19 continued to sit on his face, while her younger sister Erica sat on his chest. He loved the feeling of Emily’s butt cheeks, covered by the green material of her tight dress, pressing heavily upon his face. His head was covered in oppressive darkness save for a slice of vision that permitted him to see the underside of her magnificent crossed legs. The combined weight of Erica, in blue jeans, atop his chest and Emily on his face forced his body deep into the couch. His air tube allowed him to breathe a little bit, but the weight of Emily’s perfectly proportioned body concentrated on his face was becoming very uncomfortable.

Suddenly Emily blurted out, “What do you think man seats feel about us sitting on them, mom?”

Her mother replied: “Well I’m sure they don’t like it… but, really, Emily, they’re only man seats… Who cares what they think?”

“I’m considering doing a video documentary on man seats,” said Emily. “ I could interview this one.”

“What would he have to say,” said Erica, her tight blue jean butt mashing his chest, “… please don’t sit on me?” She chuckled and bounced a few times on his chest.

Emily raised her butt a foot or so off his face and gazed down thoughtfully at him. Gregory stared up at her round butt hovering above him and decided that Emily was truly the sexiest of the three daughters.

“Do you mind if I sit on your face?” she asked him.

“Oh… Really,” said her mother. “It’s what he’s here for. He… knows… that.”

“But mom,” continued Emily, “he must have some opinion about being thought of as just something to sit on.”

Her mother, Erin, seemed a little upset that Emily would even consider his thoughts and feelings. “Emily,” she said, “Men haven’t been allowed an opinion or choice about anything for a long time. I don’t consider what a man seat feels or thinks… I just sit on him.”

“Me, too,” chirped Erica and bounced on his chest.

For a few moments more, Emily continued to gaze back down her torso at him. “I’m sure that I squish you when I sit on your face,” she said to him. “Don’t you care?”

Gregory remained silent. But to himself he thought: “Emily, you can sit on my face as much as you want.”

“Oh, well…” said Emily. “I’m going to sit on your face, whether you like it or not.” She rotated her hips, obscuring his vision of her lovely face and plopped her butt back down on his face and crossed her legs.

“I suppose you could interview him,” said her mother. “But I doubt if you’ll get much out of him. He’s been trained not to speak.”

Her fun-loving sister, Erica, added: “He can’t speak, anyway, with your big butt on his face.” She laughed.

“I don’t have a big butt,” said Emily.

“You might want to ask the man seat about that,” said Erica, chuckling.

“Maybe I will,” said Emily. “I’m gonna do it. I’m going to make a documentary on what it’s like to be a man seat.” She got up from his face. The third sister, Elise, got up from her computer chair and, swishing her pleated plaid mini skirt, approached the couch. “It should be a short documentary,” she said. Elise looked down at Gregory. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Elise and you’re a man seat. I’m going to sit on your face.” She turned around and her skirt flew over his head as she sat down on his face. “There,” she said, sarcastically. “ End of documentary.” Her panty clad butt pressed hot and heavy on his face as she sat, nonchalantly, on him. Aside from the pain of actually getting sat on like a piece of furniture, Gregory was loving this alternate universe. Apparently, these females didn’t think of him as a sexual being. Elise didn’t care if her skirt went over his face when she sat down on it because she had no idea it was turning him on. And he wanted to keep it that way. His cock warmed and began to grow as Elise sat on him, and he tried to restrain it. The women’s perception of him as not having sexual feelings made it possible for them to treat him without modesty. He was, to them, just something to sit on. At that point, Elise removed her butt from his face and walked back to the computer chair.

“He’s a seat, Emily,” she said. “… same as this seat.” She plopped down on the computer chair. Then she got up, came back to the couch, and sat down on Gregory’s face the same way. “See?” she said. “ The computer chair and his face are the same.”

“Not quite,” countered Emily. “The man seat is shaped like us… He has to breathe… he has to eat… and…”

“So… What?” said Elise. “I’ll still sit on his face… if I want to.” She crossed her tan thighs and made herself comfortable while Gregory lay mashed beneath her splendid butt.

“But what if he didn’t have the air tube?” asked Emily.

“I’d sit on his face,” said Elise. “I’d smother him to death… then we’d take him to the trash.”

Gregory thought: Elise, in all her physical beauty, was the coldest of them. Her assertion that she wouldn’t give it a second thought if she killed him sitting on his face sent shivers through his spine.

“Well we won’t do that,” said their mother, Erin. “I bought him for us to sit on… man seats aren’t cheap, you know.”

Elise got up from his face, the back of her skirt following her as she arose. Seizing the opportunity of an un-occupied face, Erica removed her butt from his chest and swiveled it over to his face. The tightened blue denim material of her butt was especially painful.

“My friend, Wendy, doesn’t sit on man seats,” she blurted out. “She says they’re people, and she won’t sit on them.”

“Wendy is kind of flaky,” said Elise.

“It’s true,” Erica continued. “We were at the mall… We saw a man seat there… He was a bench man seat… I sat down on his face… But Wendy wouldn’t sit on him… She said she didn’t want to hurt him.”

Her mother interjected: “Of course we hurt them when we sit on them… especially when we sit on their faces… But it’s all a matter of keeping men in their place… If I started feeling sorry for them I probably wouldn’t sit on them.”

“I’m going to get my camera,” said Emily, excited. “I’m going to try to make a documentary… if I can get him to speak.”

“I’ll help you,” offered Erica, as she got up from his face.

Elise stood next to the couch, her back to him. Gregory gazed up her skirt, up her smooth and tanned thighs to where they met with the twin globes of her butt, slightly covered by pink panty material.

“This is so dumb,” said Elise to her mom. “ Making a documentary on man seats… You just… sit on them.” She placed a hand on the hem of her skirt, gave it a backward flip, and sat down on his face.

“Oh… Let Emily have her fun,” said Erin. Gregory felt a sudden weight come down on his chest as her mother sat on him. He was amazed at how casually these females sat on him… so oblivious to his discomfort… His world was now filled with sexy female butts as they used his tortured body as an object to put their curvaceous weight upon.

Elise and her mom continued to sit on him, Elise on his face and her mom on his chest, as they changed the subject. Elise was telling her mom about one of her college classes as Gregory was made to endure their combined weight on top of him. They had been sitting on him for ten minutes or so when Elise thoughtlessly shifted her butt around and the air tube came lose. Panic and adrenalin flushed his body. Elise had no idea he couldn’t breathe at all while she continued to mash his face beneath her butt. He flailed his arm and tried to tap her leg.

“What’s he doing, mom?” asked Elise.

“Oh… nothing,” said Erin. “He’s probably just tired of us sitting on him… as if he has a choice.”

Gregory felt Elise grab his arm and push it away. “You just hush now,” she told him, “while I sit on your face.”

He groaned into her butt, yet Elise continued to sit heavily on his face, her legs crossed casually, as he grew weak from oxygen deprivation. “This is the end,” he thought to himself. “I’m going to be sat-on to death by Elise.” His body went limp and blackness overcame him.

The next thing he heard was Emily’s frantic voice. “What have you done to him!”

“I just sat on his face,” said Elise. “I didn’t know the air tube had come lose.”

His blurred vision began to clear. He blinked and looked up at Erin and her three daughters staring down at him.

“You could have killed him, Elise,” Emily reprimanded her sister.

“So?” said Elise, indifferently. “What good is a man seat if you have to be so careful sitting on him.”

“He has to breathe,” said Erin as she positioned the air tube back in his mouth. “There… He’ll be okay.” Gregory expected their mother, Erin, to give him some time to recover. He was surprised when she decided to sit down on his face, herself.

“You girls will simply have to be more careful when you sit on him,” she told her daughters as she crushed his face beneath her own womanly weight. “We can sit on his face as long as we want,” she added. “Just make sure the air tube is in place.”

A few more minutes elapsed while Erin used his face for a seat.

“That’s an expensive camera, Emily.” He heard her say.

“This documentary is going to be so cool!” exclaimed Emily. He heard Elise grumble something at the idea.

“Yeah… Cool!” added the enthusiastic Erica.

Their mother got up off his face. Gregory saw that Erica had changed into a mini-skirt and high heel sandals. So far, Erica had only sat on his face wearing jeans. He was excited at the prospect of her planting her lovely rump down on his face so he could view her butt and those lovely firm legs as she sat on him. Emily had a video camera and placed it on a tripod.

“Okay,” said Emily when she was satisfied with the camera position. “Here we go.” She turned the camera on and approached the couch where Gregory lay.

“I’m Emily,” she introduced herself to the camera. “And this is my sister, Erica.” Erica smiled and waved at the camera.

“As you can see,” she pointed to Gregory. “My mother has purchased this man seat. Man seats have become common, now that women have decided to take over the world.”

“As well we should have,” said her mother off camera.

“Also, as you know, man seats have been conditioned not to speak. We place them wherever we want and… well… Sit on them.”

“Should I?” bubbled Erica, preparing to sit down on his face.

“ Not yet,” said Emily.

Emily looked into the camera and then down at Gregory. “Erica is going to sit on your face,” Emily told Gregory. “How do you feel about that?”


Gregory felt a grin start to from in his lips and stifled it. “It’s okay,” he mumbled. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“But she’s going to squish you,” continued Emily. “How much do you weight, Erica?”

“About one twenty,” said Erica, hamming it up for the camera.

“A hundred twenty pounds,” repeated Emily. “And she’s going to sit… right… down… on…your… face… What I want to know is how do you feel about my sister Erica sitting on your face… with all her weight on top of you?”

“This is so dumb,” he heard Elise grumble off camera. Emily put a finger to her mouth to shush her and smiled sheepishly at the camera.

Gregory had no idea how to reply. He was excited about the promise of Erica sitting on his face… probably letting her skirt go over his head. But, no way, was he going to let them know.

“I realize,” said Emily, “that you man seats have been conditioned to let us women sit on you… but you… must… have some thoughts about it.” Her patience was waning.

Thought Gregory: “What does she want me to say… that I’m from another universe, a world where girls would never consider using a man as a seat, unless it’s on their lap? Does she want me to say yes! Yes! I love to be used as furniture and face sat.” The absurdity of his situation suddenly seemed hilarious. A bubble of laughter began to come out of his mouth. He clamped his lips over it.

“Look!” said Erica. “He was starting to laugh”

“That’s impossible,” said their mother. “Man seats don’t laugh… It was probably a cough. That would be expected, with you girls sitting on his face without the air tube.”

“Hmmm,” said Emily. “There is something… something different about this man seat.” She trained curious eyes on him. Gregory had a feeling he was going to have trouble with this one.

“Can I sit on him now?” asked an impatient Erica.

“Yes,” answered Emily.

Erica smiled at the camera and stepped up close to the couch.

“Oh, my!” thought Gregory. He’d been given some excellent up skirt views of their mother and her sister, Elise. But as Erica turned around and prepared to sit on his face, the underlining of her skirt, her smooth thighs and that tight butt, green polka dot panties clinging to it’s crevice, was more than he could endure. His cock sprang into his trousers like a jack in the box. Erica, legs together, accentuating the roundness of her bottom, sat down squarely on his face.

“As you can see,” Emily apparently was saying to the camera. “My sister Erica has just sat down on our man seat’s face.”

“He’s comfy,” commented Erica and crossed her legs.

“Yes. Of course,” said Emily. “But what is he thinking?

“Probably that I’m squishing him,” said Erica, chuckling.

“But what else might he be thinking?” pressed Emily. “… that he is being of service to us?”… “What?... What?”

“I think he has to pee,” offered Erica. “The thing man pee out of has gotten bigger.”

“Oh, oh,” thought Gregory. “Where is this going?”

… to be continued
can't wait for Felicia's Fine Furniture part 4 stories