Simpsons Porn Story: Slumber Party Chapter 10

Simpsons Porn Story: Slumber Party Chapter 10

AUTHORESS’S NOTE: As this is the final chapter of this story, I would like to take this time to thank my readers from the bottom of my heart for continuing to read and review this story. This story was originally going to be a one-shot or a few chapters at the most, but you have all motivated and inspired me to continue writing this story and making it is what it is today. Each of you means a great deal to me, and every word is cherished. I hope you enjoyed reading “Slumber Party” as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I also hope you follow me as I embark on other stories, for I will be sure to follow yours! Thank you again so much, and enjoy the last segment of “Slumber Party”.

Umpteen thoughts cantered rapidly through my mind as Mr. Burns began to caress my hand gently with his. This is happening. Dear God, this is real. Theres no going back this time. Theres no more denial or safety. This is it: the moment youve dreamt of for more than two decades. The experience youve only seen in your fantasies is right here. Now, go for it.

I awkwardly kissed Mr. Burns hand, not knowing what move to make. I didnt really have much experience with this whole thing, but I knew Mr. Burns had even less, so I was involuntarily allotted the one responsible for aggressing the situation. I nervously pulled him in closer to me and we began just kissing and petting for a while, as the fireplace roared a tender symphony.

I enjoyed this as much as I could while my anxious deliberations swarmed violently in my head as I considered what would soon be happening between us. What if you hurt him? Hes such a small and fragile man, and the first time is always rather painful, I thought apprehensively. What if you dissatisfy him? And what is to come of your relationship after? What if this makes Mr. Burns realize that there is nothing between you but friendship?

Just as I wanted to strike my mind with a crowbar to rid it of these thoughts, I felt Mr. Burns hands leave my face and roam down to my shirt, fondling the buttons suggestively. I took his suggestion and began to undress myself, surely blushing terribly in the dark when Mr. Burns offered a small groan of approval at the sight of me clothed in nothing but the winter moonlight.

After helping Mr. Burns undress like I had done so many times before under very different circumstances, we both lay there and for moments simply examined each other in this new light. It felt so odd that the man laying next to me, about to make love to me, was truly Mr. Burns. My boss, the man who paid my salary, who drained my energy with bizarre demands and constant dependence. My friend, who spent practically every waking moment with me, who laughed and joked and deeply talked with me and only me. My love, whose heart I was sure had always drummed in cadence with mine, whose occasional affectionate glances or touches had given me hope through the entirety of my darkest days.

I hesitated for a moment, took Mr. Burns hand, and asked, Are you sure you want to do this, sir? I had to be certain, although I was terribly afraid that my prompting would make him reconsider.

Thankfully, it didnt. Yes. Im certain that this is want I want to do, and what we need to do, Smithers. Are you?

Ive never been surer of anything in my life. I smiled warmly at Mr. Burns, who smiled nervously back. I took my glasses off and lay them upon the counter. This is itright now

—-
I awoke the following morning in a daze. I rubbed my aching eyes, which only made them ache more, and looked around me torpidly, seeing my two pairs of pajamas tossed about on the floor, a few misplaced tiles from Scrabble here and there, and two bowls of melted ice cream sitting on the counter along with the empty case of my adult video. I looked to my side and smiled uneasily at the sleeping form of Mr. Burns. And then I closed my eyes and reflected upon the last part of the evening.

Making love to Mr. Burns was the most breathtaking and frightening and surrealistic experience of my life. It was slow, steady, passionate yet quiet and calm. And it was purely romantic and purely pure. There was nothing sordid or rough or tainted about it; it was simply a beautiful thing, a great release after years of perhaps mutual longing, an expression of our love. What I had always believed sex was supposed to be. That was what it was between us. At least, I thought so. I wasnt quite sure what Mr. Burns was thinking, as his only sounds during the act were a vague, scattered moaning or two, and after it, he had only rolled over on his side and fell asleep without so much as looking at me. This scared me beyond measure, and I began to wonder if my greatest dream and greatest nightmare were going to become realities on the same night.

As Mr. Burns fell asleep, I was sorely tempted to do the same. I was supremely exhausted, and although dreadfully worried, I decided that only the morning would tell what I needed to know. And for that night, I should just be happy and sleep peacefully, which I did, surprisingly. But now it was morning. And now my fear raced up my body once again.

I boldly turned on my side and wrapped my arms around Mr. Burns frame, hoping he would awake. I heard a soft, awakening sigh from Mr. Burns as I prepared for whatever was to come. He shifted and stretched a bit in his position and then turned around to face me. I tried to be composed. Good morning, sir, I offered weakly.

He stared at me with an unreadable expression. Umgood morning, Smithers. UmIll have my breakfast now. Some steamed toast

Wait, Mr. Burns. Dont you think we should talk about what happened last night? I asked urgently.

Mr. Burns looked away, slinked out of my grasp, and left the bed, using a blanket to cover him. Nothing happened last night, he said, not looking at me.

My heart almost stopped. Mr. Burns, we made love last night. I saw him physically cringe as I said it. I paused, my soul aching at his involuntary reaction. Dont you think we should talk about that?

Whats there to talk about, Smithers? We cant possibly do it again. Youre my employee and my closest friend. We explored what we had to, and now its over, he said.

What? I exclaimed. Mr. Burns, I thought I couldnt breathe. I thought when you said you wanted to explore it, you meantyou and I as a couple. A real couple. Not a one-night stand. I cant believe this! I cant believe you would do this to me! I shouted very uncharacteristically, but I couldnt help it.

Mr. Burns turned around swiftly, frightened by my sudden change in persona. But this was it. I wasnt going to be so calm anymore. This was my life and my reason for living that Mr. Burns was just throwing around like it was a chewed-up tennis ball. This was my life and I had to defend it sometime.

I continued fervently, Last night you asked me to make love to you. Which I did. Which we both did. And now you want towhat? Return to being servant and master? Friends? Act like nothing ever happened? Well, Im sorry, Monty, but I cant do that. I couldnt believe what I was saying. I couldnt fathom that I would ever talk with such a tone of voice to Mr. Burns. But despite my own shock at myself, I continued unthinkingly, Maybe last night didnt mean anything to you, butdamn it, it meant everything to me. Everything.

Mr. Burns stood in front of me, clutching the covers around his body insecurely, his eyes wide with fear and consternation. SmithersIit did mean something to me.

I waited for a longer response, and when none came, I insisted, What, what did it mean to you? I have to know.

I dont know, Smithers. I dont know! he began, looking away. But Im not like you. I havent been dreaming about this all my life. I dont have our future planned out down to the white-picket-fence and cherry pie sitting on the windowsill, okay?

I stared in stunned silence. You mean, you knew that I have beendreaming about this?

Mr. Burns looked to the ceiling now. He seemed to be able to look at anything but me. Yes, I knew, he said quietly. I mean, I had an idea, at least. Youre not really the master of secrecy and subtlety. So, I played with you, and I toyed with you. Ill admit it, I did. But then I realized that it wasnt all playing and toying. I realized that the thing that was wrong with you was the same thing wrong with me, he said, aberrantly open and honest. But I just realized that, Smithers, dont you understand that? This is all new to me.

But does that mean that youre just going to shove it away, because you dont know how to deal with it? I asked, now furious.

Usually, when I dont know how to deal with something, I turn to you. But I cant do that this time, so I have to follow what I instinctually know, Mr. Burns explained.

I shook my head. I was not going to let him get away with this. But just last night, you said you were convinced that you were not too old for love. You said you were sure about this.

I was drunk and lustful and stupid last night, you idiot!

For a moment, I just stared. I felt like I could almost literally feel my heart being battered with a heavy hammer. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. Mr. Burns, I began, my voice cracking. Dont cry, Waylon, dont cry. That snowfall happened for a reason. We missed that prestigious party for a reason, I persisted. And Mr. Burns, our relationship wouldnt have to really change all that much. Youd still be my boss and friendthere would just be an extra layer to it. Just a few additions, a romantic dinner here and therea kiss before work, thats all Im asking. I dont expect you to change for me, and I dont expect that youre going to be constantly loving

Smithers, stop. Just stop already, Mr. Burns said with heartbreaking finality as he treaded over to window. He looked outside wistfully and turned to me a moment later. Its still coming down pretty hard out there. It doesnt look like were going to be able to drive to work,” he noted flatly.

I said nothing. I barely even heard his words. I just sat there in my bed, my mind blank in complete agony. Mr. Burns looked over at me and realized that I was numb from pain. Its over. Theres no chance. You had your chance, and you only get one. Thats just the way it works, Waylon. Now stop crying.

I barely noticed when Mr. Burns left the room for minutes until he came back and handed me a bowl of ice cream. I took it weakly and began to eat, still in a trance. Smithers? Mr. Burns asked fearfully. Wont you say something?

I looked up at him, snapped of my spell a bit at the sound of his voice. What do you want me to say, sir? I asked with edge.

Anything. Just say something.

I put my bowl aside and looked into his eyes. Just answer me these three questions.

Oh, were not playing Truth or Dare again, are we? Mr. Burns, trying poorly to be funny, attempted.

Mr. Burns, did you enjoy last night? I asked monotonously.

Mr. Burns shifted uncomfortably and answered quietly, Well, yes, I suppose.

You suppose or you know? I demanded.

I know, I suppose. I mean, I know, Smithers, Mr. Burns said frightfully.

I understood and proceeded, And do you love me, Mr. Burns?

“Smithers, come on, Mr. Burns tried. You know were not allowed to ask questions that we both already know the answers to.

I dont know the answer, I said honestly.

Mr. Burns fiddled with his spoon and said almost inaudibly, You know I love you.

Hearing that last statement would have felt remarkable under other circumstances, but I could barely enjoy it now. I took a deep breath before my next question. And is there any chance that you might change your mind? Is there any hope for us?

Placing his bowl aside, Mr. Burns looked at me and vacillated for the longest moments of my life, before delivering the verdict: No, Smithers. There is no hope for us. His words fell over my house like thunder. The knife stabbed at my heart again, plunging in and out, in and out, mercilessly. Hope by definition indicates the promise or possibility of something in the future. Then Mr. Burns ceased the knifes motion by taking my hand. And this, my friend, is the present. He smiled.

What? Do you mean?

Smithers, when I was scooping this iced cream for you, it was a challenging task. And I remembered how you had helped me with it last night. And how you had helped me the day before that and the day before and the day before for twenty-five years with anything I had ever needed. And I was overcome with this desire to scoop this iced cream for you. It didn’t make much sense, but I just had to do it. And then I realized why,” he sighed. “This is my final decision, Smithers. I have wasted enough of our time with my hesitations and trademark changes of heart, but this is it, Mr. Burns promised, and his voice had never sounded more genuine. Im yours, my friend.

I reached forward and embraced him ardently, crying of joy.”I love you, sir,” I whispered. The rollercoaster had finally come to stop, and I could not have been happier with the ride.

After our lengthy embrace, we stared at each other, smiling. Mr. Burns said, Seeing as we will be cooped up here for an entire day, we certainly have some time to kill. What do you say, Waylon? Shall we break out the Scrabble or the Twister or juststay here in bed? he asked slyly.

I grabbed his hands. You choose, Monty. It doesnt matter to me. Doing anything with you is paradise to me.

I could have sworn I saw a flash of apple hues light Mr. Burns cheeks at my comment. He grinned and said, Then I vote we stay in bed for a while. This is a slumber party after all, and even though we wont be doing much slumbering, its still appropriate to spend a lot of time in a big, comfy bed, yes?

I beamed. Youre quite right, sir, I said softly as Mr. Burns climbed in bed next to me.

Mr. Burns was right about a lot of things that morning. We didnt get any slumbering done, and it turns out that I didnt need to. Because the things I had once only seen in dreams while sleeping were now realities, awake and alive, occurring and continuing before my very eyes and in the utterly thankful, rather than hopeful, alcoves of my heart.

THE END

This entry was posted in Simpsons Hentai Stories and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.