Flesh Pillows

“He’s currently caressing her flesh pillows.”

This announcement caused Nivea to lok over the top of the manuscript she was reading.

Amanda was holding the stapled sheaf of paper an arms length away from her, her face wearing a combination of mirth and misery.

“He’s doing what now?” Nivea asked.

“I said he’s caught the attention of the vixen and he’s giving her a good old fashioned second base groping.”

“Yes, but, ‘flesh pillows’?”

“Thats what he’s calling her breasts.”

Nivea rolled her eyes.

“Manda,” she said, “What exactly are you reading?”

“Some sort of anthropomorphic furrie fetish erotica thing. I think.”

“You think?”

“I’m sort of stuck on the whole idea of flesh pillows right now.”

“Who woudln’t be?”

“It makes me wonder why I keep reading this trash.”

“Because you put out a trashy ‘zine. One that people buy because they know it will full to overflowing with anthropomorphic furrie fetish erotica.”

“Flesh pillows, Nivea. Flesh Pillows.”

“Manda, if I can turn this stuff,” she waved her own manuscript in the air,” into something fit to sell in a badly photocopied ‘sines then I’m sure you, with all your fancy college education, can come up with a clever way to edit out the flesh pillows and still have the author happy to be in print.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re probably right. But I swear to god, if I see the words ‘prodigious unit’ in here anywhere then this one’s going in the trash.”

“We’ve come so far in so short a time, eventually we’re bound to hit gold. Someone will send somethingi n so inspired it will make Moon Time a real glossy. No more copy shop special for you!”

“Nivea, I hate to be the spoilsport here, but if we’ve been doing Moon Time for this long without a diamond in our rough, its not going to happen.”

“Whatever, you pessimist. Just go back to your flesh pillows, and don’t let that prodigious unit catch you by surprise when it pops up.”