Three French Hens

I rolled over the next morning with a sore pussy and a clear head. Despite the memories of last night's incredible sex, I no longer felt any attraction to George. Speak of the devil, where was he? I gagged a little when I thought of how we fell asleep spooned together, his dick pressed against my ass.

Two Turtledoves

After the cursed pear turned me into a woman, I spent the rest of the night hiding from George. I would have stayed locked in my room, but eventually my bladder demanded otherwise. Out of sheer habit, I stood in front of the toilet, reached down, and grabbed... nothing. My cheeks burned as I lowered the seat and turned around.

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

"George? You home?" I silently hoped for no response. Nothing against my roommate, but I didn't feel like company at the moment. I'd made the mistake of telling one of the partners at my law firm that I wouldn't be going home for Christmas, which he saw as an opportunity to have a first year associate retrieve a case file from the office this morning. Who the hell works on Christmas?

Christmas Can Be Stressful

"Oh, excuse me! Sorry, miss, I expecting Santa." The young elf didn't recognize the scantily-clad woman in Santa's study, but then again, it was his first Christmas at the North Pole. "I needed to deliver a message from Mrs. Claus, and, um... sorry, where is Santa?"

"I'm-- er, he's, well... never mind that. He'll probably be back any time. I'm sure you're busy and I know he was expecting Mrs. Claus, so maybe I can pass along her message?"

"Of course... She said she was tied up in the bakery and couldn't make it to their normal 'reindeer games'. Then she said Santa might find a candy cane relaxing, but she didn't send me with anything..."

The woman nodded thoughtfully. "Yes... Santa gets awfully stressed this time of year, and he and Mrs. Claus have come up with all sorts of... creative ways to deal with that. You know, I'm feeling a little stressed myself. Maybe if I dig around, I'll find something to suck on, even if it's not a candy cane..."

Wasting Wishes

I stared bug-eyed at the oddly-dressed little man who had materialized in my kitchen. "So wait, you're an actual, for real genie?"

Money Well Spent

Getting divorced after catching your husband in bed with a dirty whore: $30,000

Hiring a black-market surgeon to turn your cheating husband into a woman: $100,000

That first grainy photo of him naked in the backwoods town in eastern Europe you shipped him to, slowly coming to grips with his new life: priceless

A Matter of Self-Control

Courtney, my wife, was gorgeous, but always complaining about her weight. "If I lost 10 pounds, I'd look so much better." Every time, I'd reassure her that she was the sexiest woman I'd ever met, and there was no need to change anything about herself.

After the hundredth time, though, I was sick of hearing about it. "Ugh! You know you don't need to, but if you really want to lose weight, just get some self-control and do it already!"