Title: Poultry Capers
Author: Lizzi Fairview (fairview@spittingonyourgrave.com)
Rating: NC-17.
Author's Notes: (M-solo best humour) Graphic depiction of some sweet 
love between a man and his bird ensue. All those who get disturbed by 
that kind of thing, leave now. 
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He contemplated the bird that sat in front of him. She mocked him, 
sitting there, with her smooth, white meat. He knew, logically, that he 
should have put her in the preheated oven, the way his wives expected 
him to do, but he just couldn't. She was so... breathtaking. When he 
had put his hand up her perfect little chicken ass and ripped out her 
guts, he had fallen in love.

Now his wives were going to be pissed at him for not making dinner. Not 
like it was his fault that he'd fallen in love with the main course. 
They were the ones forcing him to make dinner. "Oh, Jimmi, we want a 
break. We don't want to cook or clean today -- after all, it is 
Christmas!" He scoffed and forgot about them, turning instead back to 
his chicken.

And there she was, waiting for him. She hadn't budged a bit, instead 
content to stay in one position until he told her to move. If only his 
wives were like that...

He ran his hands over her flawless meat, unable to control himself. He 
brought his lips down to her, flicking his tongue out to graze the 
sweet, raw meat there. Over her entire petit body his strongest muscle 
roamed; into every nook and cranny, ever orifice that existed.

When his tongue reached her ass, he paused. His penis had grown so 
engorged, his trousers were beginning to cut off circulation. He 
quickly shrugged himself out of them, and contemplated his next move. 
With only a slight hesitation, he positioned the poultry over his 
erection and entered her.

She was the tightest he'd ever experienced. To loosen her a little (not 
too much, he told himself. Just enough for him to move around a 
little.), he found the turkey baster and shoved it into her next to his 
penis. He wiggled it a little.

Ahh, that was the spot. As her orifice began to widen, his gaze 
wandered idly around the kitchen to alight on -- the basting sauce! Of 
course. He walked over to the counter where it sat, chicken impaled on 
his manhood, and began to slather it on both him and his newly found 
love.

He bent down and was just barely able to fondle her with his tongue. He 
could taste the sauce, felt it running down his chin. He licked his 
chops and began to slide the chicken up and down the shaft of his 
penis, up and down, up and down.

The rhythm began to escalate as he grew more and more needy, more 
excited than ever for release. Just when he thought he couldn't take 
anymore, he came, filling the gutted chicken with his cum. 

He heard a giggle behind him. Whirling, he saw two of his wives, Ari 
and Shely, had returned home from shopping early. They had entered the 
kitchen to check on his progress, and found instead him with his pants 
down -- and his now limp penis inside dinner.

"Jimmi? What's the matter -- is four wives not enough for you that you 
need to take out your sexual frustrations on a chicken?" Shely asked 
acerbicly. 

Ari giggled. "Just put the chicken in the oven dear. You've already 
basted it; there's really no point in wasting it."

They took one long look at him, and went to go put away their day's 
purchases. He stared at the empty place in the doorway, then unsheathed 
himself and put the chicken in the oven. 
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The End