Grunt.
Grunt.
Grunt.
TheBodaciousE thrusts deep into his Leni body pillow and blows his load. Sweat coats his flabby, hair-covered body and his breaths come in deep gasps. Being five hundred and ninety five pounds, even ten seconds of sex with his new girlfriend is a challenge, but after a long day of watching Loud House reruns on Nickelodeon, he was really horny.
He rolls off, and the bed dips under his prodigious weight: The pillow flops onto him, and he grins. "Was it...good for...you too?" he pants and strokes its head. Its only reply is a frozen smile. E sighs. What he wouldn't give for a real woman.
Something warm and wet drips onto his stomach, and he shoves the pillow aside. "Aw, man," he says as his eyes fall on the glob of sperm matted to his body hair. The pillow didn't come with a pussy hole, so he made his own by cutting out its crotch, inserting a pink sock he found at the Goodwill, and filling it with lotion. A real woman wouldn't drip cum on him; she'd suck it all into her body or something. He didn't know because he was a virgin, but that's how it worked, right?
Getting up, he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up, then went into his living room, the ancient floor groaning under his weight: He lived alone in a double wide in the Happy Hills trailer park on the outskirts of Macon, alone, that is, except for his Leni pillow and his vast collection of Loud House porn. Printouts of them plastered the walls, mainly of Lola and Lana naked. They were not aged up.
At his computer, E drops into his swivel chair which sighs under the pressure of his titanic ass. It was midnight, and E was heading to bed, but first, he had stories to post.
He logged into his FFN account, went to his doc manager, and started his latest masterwork: "Lincoln yells at his sister over dumb shit from the show. They all get AIDS and die. The end." Smiling at his own genius, he posts it.
Hm. Just one more.
"Lincoln shot up like a black preacher at a revival and slapped someone. Adolf Hitler came back and the Nazis won WWII. The end." He really liked this one because he was a bigot who hated people that didn't look exactly like him.
Click.
Post.
Okay, last one.
"Lincoln slapped Luan out of her socks and a wave of pure respect rolled over Royal Woods. Stalin and Hitler came back, teamed up, and took over the world. The end."
Click.
Post.
He picked up his inhaler and took a deep breath. No more, I promise.
"Lincoln was a pimp. The end."
Click.
Post.
Okay, okay, one more for the road.
"Linc iz da shiznit, boi."
Click.
Post.
He was about to start on his next one when he saw that he had three messages. His heart skipped a beat. Someone wanted to talk to him? Oh, boy! He wasn't used to not being totally and completely ignored by everyone. He went to his inbox and nearly died. It was from UnderratedHero, his fav fic writer. When he read it, however, his spirits crashed:
"Stop spamming FFN. It's annoying."
Well...it's masterwork, not spam, so it was okay.
He went to the next message. It was from That Engineer, another one of his favorite fan fiction writers. He wrote that story with the title he couldn't spell or pronounce but fronted like he could. "You're making an ass of yourself, mate. Cut it out."
E was starting to tear up. Maybe the last message was better.
It was from Flagg1991, whom E greatly respected. "One more dumb ass pimp story and I swear to God I'm going to have Em find your address. Do us all a favor and die."
E broke down crying.
...just one more.
"I wish I was Lincoln. People actually like Lincoln."
Click.
Post.
Em found his address the next day and he was never seen again.
THE END.