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by V. R. Francis



Vol. 2, No. 1,  February, 1958

    ONCE Upon a time there was a little sexboat named Red Riding Hood. She had a come-hither smile, a skirt you could see through, a dislike for underwear, and a thirty-eight inch bust; this made her very popular with the local wolves.
    One sunny day Red decided to walk over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house. Granny had been feeling somewhat under the weather, and Red thought a carton of cold beer might cheer up the old biddy. So she put on her come-hither smile, the skirt you could see through, and a low-cut peasant blouse. Then, with the beer tucked under one pink arm, she started out.
    Except for the whistles of admiration that always accompanied her Journeys, especially during a high wind, the trip was uneventful for about half the distance. Then a red Jaguar convertible pulled up beside her and stopped, and a wolf in a plaid sports jacket, green beret, and dark glasses leered at her from the cockpit.
    "Greetings, babydoll," he drooled, patting the seat beside him with a practiced hand. "How's about a ride into the wild blue yonder, just you and me and that old devil moon?"
    "Thank you very much, kind sir," Red said, pulling back her shoulders and turning her best profile. "but I gotta take this booze over to Granny's."
    Then she swivel-hipped away, leaving the wolf in the Jaguar to concoct his evil plans. Which he did-- of course.
    A short while later, Red arrived at Granny's cottage. The patio was empty, and the swimming pool held only water. This was strange since Granny was generally in one or the other, bikini-attired and glad of it. Red pressed the front doorbell, and the chime answered "How Dry I Am" four times.
    "Granny," she said through the screen door, "it's your granddaughter,. Little Red Riding Hood."
    "I'm in the bedroom, honeypot," a hoarse voice answered.
    "Poor Granny must have a cold," Red told herself, as she walked into the house and across the parlor and into the bedroom.
    Granny was in bed, covered to the neck with a plaid blanket. She was wearing a green beret.
    "I brought you some cold beer, Granny," Red said.
    "Thank you, dear," Granny said in a voice that for some reason reminded Red of the wolf in the Jaguar. "Just put it over there by the liquor cabinet for now, will you, and come here and sit down on the bed besides me."
    Red did this, and Granny smacked her lips.
    "My," Red said, "what big lips you have, Granny."
    "The better to kiss you with," Granny said, pulling Red down on the bed and planting a juicy one plunk on her lips.
    "Gracious," Red said breathlessly, "and what big hands you have, Granny.
    "The better to hold you with, my dear," Granny said, holding Red in places she'd never been held before.
    "And what a large--My goodness," Red said, suddenly realizing, "you're not Granny. You're not Granny at all!"
    "Not the least bit," the wolf admitted happily, "and the better to--He finished with a statement Red had once seen written on a sidewalk, after which he proceeded to carry out the promise.
    After awhile, Red asked, "What ever in the world happened to Granny?"
    "I haven't even seen your sweet little old grandmother," the wolf said, sighing contentedly.
    The closet door burst open and Granny appeared, her bikini askew. "I was in here, dear, helping Hector do his good deed for the day."
    A young man in uniform followed her from the closet. "Hector Blodgett, Eagle Scout, reporting!" he snapped, saluting smartly with one hand and hiding a bottle with the other.
    They all went into the patio and had some cold beer, The next day little Red Riding Hood went out with the wolf in his Jaguar, Granny invited the entire boy scout troop over for a barbecue, and they all lived sexily ever after.

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