Thanks to everyone who contributed to Scanner Storytime, in which we asked you to help us write a dirty story, and especially to Baron Von Monkeychow for ensuring we all have some hilarious one-handed reading this weekend.

And so it begins...

Betsey was a busty girl, with pale skin, wide hips, a soft belly, and buttery blonde hair, cut into a precise chin-length bob—the only hair she groomed perfectly. When her roommate would leave the apartment, Betsey liked to play her Rolling Stones records and dance naked in front of the full-length mirror in the kitchen, while drinking cheap whiskey from a flask encased in leather.

Her neighbor, the vicar, would often peer into her window while she danced late into the night. He was sure she would burn in hell for her sins, but he too was burning-in his loins. It was more than lust, it was a burning desire for which he should be punished. He breathed her name slowly while he began to rub slowly against the windowsill.

The song was "Brown Sugar", and so was her pleasure. She let her fingers do the walking while the vicar began to pray in earnest while continuing to rub against the windowsill. He took God's name in vain when he saw where she had so gently placed those fingers. First on the record player, and then on her backside.

Betsey knew her neighbor would watch her, but she didn't know much about him, except he would pleasure himself while she danced.  Feeling tipsy, Betsey decided that today, her neighbor would without a doubt enjoy himself as much as she would.  She threw her hands in the air while Mick and the boys crooned and let her hand trail down...

Then, without warning, the seductress stopped dancing, and the vicar silently cursed her for teasing him.  Betsey quickly donned a robe and muted her antiquated stereo before going to the front door.  "A visitor?" muttered the vicar, scratching his stomach absentmindedly through whatever it is that vicars wear.

Just as the old vicar was about to knob his wolly, an asiatic black bear nammed Claude who had been biding his time in a Japanese zoo, learning the sacred art of Wushu staff fighting broke through the lucious blonde's cracked door, wielding his stick.

"Careful!" she squealed.  "You'll make the record skip!  We're just coming up to my favorite part... the introduction to 'Sympathy for the Devil'! You look like a bear of wealth and taste!"  And Claude put his fighting staff down, reared up on his hind legs and did a wicked shimmy.  "Wow," said Betsey.  "I never realized that bears were hung like that!" The vicar couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Outside of "experimenting" in his seminary days, the vicar had never had his desire stirred by the male form, but over the years, he had found near all-consuming burning for furries. In fact, even though he had found Betsey's full bosom, achingly soft-looking belly -- which hinted of her indulgences sinful and excessive -- and her wide, rolling hips more than enough to endanger his immortal soul over the past months he had been watching her, it was the wild, un-groomed hair now rhythmically dancing between over her pubis that had set fire to his loins and cast his soul into oblivion. Seeing  the bear shimmy excited him so much that his seed had erupted with enough force to stain his cassock through (quite a feat given the layers between). And the sight of the bear's slowly rising, swelling penis was maintaining his erection despite his incredible performance. "Oh, well," he thought, "maybe, I was experimenting, after all."

You do know of course, Constant Reader, that bears' penises (or is it penii) have a bone in them? An honest to goodness bone. Now, Betsey, who was salivating along with the vicar, could be seriously damaged by the bear's tumescence, unless she took the length of the song to get the length of the bear. But first.. she walked over to the window and motioned to the vicar...

The vicar nearly fell over with surprise. Me?!! She wants me?!! His heart leaped into his throat at the mere thought of her flesh pressed against his. How often he had dreamed of her smell, her taste, her sweaty body, and now the chance was before him Waving. Wanting. Him.

He felt a surge of youth in his loins press firmly against his robes. No longer would he be held back by his vows. By god, he was a man! A living, breathing man. One with wants and desires, and these desires were now spilling out of him as he ran down the stairs to be with her.

When he burst through the door of Betsey's apartment, the vicar was more than ready for her. His clothing had fallen off somewhere between his front door and the front door of her building. He had sprinted up the four flights of stairs in near record time completely in the nude. Yet, even he was surprised that he was not the slightest bit out of breath. This surely would be a night to remember. No, this would surely be a night of *legend*.

The bear stared at the vicar, for he too was blessed by the heavens above. Betsey gasped at the length and breadth of his manhood. This should never have been silenced by a vow of celibacy she thought, surely this was God's gift to women everywhere. And with that, she made her move.

Like a jungle cat, she was upon him. Their arms enveloped each other, their mouths explored their bodies. Tasting. Licking. Kissing. Squeezing. It was a frenzied scene of lust, passion and excitement. Finally she could take it no more. Holding his massiveness in both hands, she looked into his eye, no into his soul, and softly spoke to him. "I want this, inside of me" she told him in no uncertain terms. He didn't have to be told twice.

As he entered her, she let out a soft sigh, and then a whistle. The vicar looked into her eyes and said "say when". She giggled, and knew that this was a night of no limits. She took him all the way in, and then held him close to feel and enjoy such massiveness inside her. She had never felt anything like this, and she wanted to be sure to remember it. The bear had been sitting quietly until now. Standing quite deliberately, he raised a hand to his neck and unsnapped something. This was no ordinary bear, this was a man in costume. Inside the costume, it was no ordinary man. It was...

RON JEREMY! This bear is actually a hedgehog. Apparently the spirit of Ron Jeremy has been condemned to roam the earth in a bear suit since he sold his immoral soul to the devil in the 1970's. Regardless of how he got there, he knew why he was there, and what he had to do. He gently rolled the vicar and Betsey over without uncoupling them, leaving Betsey riding on her high horse.

The minutes turned into hours and the hours turned into a day and still they went at it like minks. It was the vicar and Betsey. It was Ron and Betsey. It was the vicar, Betsey, and Ron. It was the vicar and Ron. Betsey was most impressed at their stamina. She had never been so satisfied in all her life. To have two men of such stature and sexual prowess at her beck and call gave her a feeling of superiority over all women. She was euphoric.

Later, lying alone in a pool of sweat and semen and satisfaction, she reflected upon what just happened. She smiled a knowing smile and started the record. "Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. I've been around for a long long year, stole many a mans soul and faith". She had sold her soul to the devil, and it had been money well spent.

...and so it ends. 

[Previously: Scanner Storytime: Choose Your Own Adventure-ish Erotica]