Jen froze upon seeing the kabob sticks. She stood there, motionless. A minute passed. Then two, then three. The only indication that she wasn’t completely suspended in animation was the one horsecock still thrusting away in her rear pussy.
One of the attending maids, a newbie, was puzzled by the motionless centauress she was in service to. Was this usual? Was something wrong with her? Did she need help? She was about to step out of line when she was held back by another maid, a veteran, who looked at her and shook her head.
In reality, Jen was busy piecing together the optimal way to use these sticks. Countless combinations of fruits and vegetables on a stick flew through her head. For Jen had come to know of the fruits of the earth, not by their taste but by their size, texture, and weight. The simple variables seemed like calculus to what little rationality remained in her lust-addled mind. She accounted for them now.
She loved the hairy, rough texture of the carrots. However, they were a little on the thin side. They were like good ketchup on otherwise dull French fries, only instead the carrots were more of an excuse to taste more of her horsecock and its delicious precum. No, the carrots were an better as an appetizer or side dish.
On the other end of the spectrum were the daikons. The guaranteed orgasm generators were huge would make her come over and over just trying to push one down. They gave so much resistance and were so, so much fun. But while on the stick, they wouldn’t leave room for much else and the daikon’s girth would overpower anything else. No, the daikons were better by themselves.
She considered the cucumber. Oddly enough they were somewhat disappointing. They were generally smooth and generally lacking in any discernable features. What few bumps they occasionally had only made her left wanting more which they couldn’t provide. For the makeshift dildo of choice the world over, they were overrated. No, the cucumbers were too plain, too vanilla.
The bumps reminded her of corn. Now those, those were amazing. The bumpy ears of corn had an excellent mouthfeel that made her wet just thinking about them. They weren’t too large either, and the deep crevices would be able to hold a lot of horse cum inside. She licked her lips, imagining squeezing the horse cum out of the corn with her mouth like a sponge. Yes, they’d do well as her bread and butter.
But by far her favorite had to be bitter melon. It had the most bizarre texture of any of them with irregular bumps and grooves. If the corn made her come in regular intervals, then the bitter melon made her made her come utterly unpredictably. Oh yes, they’d do well as a dessert.
She continued like this, regarding the fruits and vegetables on an individual basis. She weighed their merits and weaknesses, deciding which were kabob-worthy. The hormones from her mouthcunt combined with the sensations coming from her rear in a way that kept her from even questioning the line of thought.
When she was done with her calculations, Jen took the boats of cum and poured them all over the corn, letting them marinate in the stuff while she moved other things around in preparation. Then one by one she stuck various fruits and vegetables onto the kabob sticks. She laid them onto the table before her.
Jennifer Smith would later be able to recall only bits and pieces of what followed that night. She would remember shoving and pulling the kabobs in and out of her pussymouth. She would remember the shishing sounds they made and how she took them apart piecemeal in a sexual frenzy. She would remember how they felt inside her, their taste by texture imprinted onto her mind for all time.
What she wouldn’t be able to remember was what came after she started to skewer herself by sticking them into her ass and pussy. No, that would be a mystery for another time.