My Erotic Fan Fiction of Dave From the Chipmunks II — It’s Too Darn Hot.

Becky Poole
3 min readJun 16, 2021

It was hot. Too hot in LA to think about anything but sex with David. I was leaving an important meeting in Santa Monica and could easily say to hell with the rest of the workday. So I picked up my car phone from its sweltering spot on the dash and dialed. I said, “David I can’t work any longer today. I need to see you at the pond.” “Thank heavens you called, I’ve been staring at this sheet music thinking about your thighs.” Wonderful. “I’ll meet you in 20 minutes.” That’s how long it takes to get anywhere. The pond is what we call a small private pool hidden from view on David’s property. Tucked away behind palm trees, birds of paradise, and bamboo. It is always perfectly shaded (from sun and nosy Chipmunks) no matter what time of day… or night.

20 scalding minutes later, I screech into the driveway, Gloria Estefan’s “Rhythm is Gonna Get You” blaring into the oppressive air. I peel the back of my thighs off the red Mazda Miata Convertible’s leather seat. And head back to the pond. David has mixed up frozen strawberry daiquiris and is pouring one into a glass stark naked. His tight little ass, glistening like a ham and looking as tasty as two King’s Hawaiian bread loaves. I lean in for a bite. He gives a small startled grunt, spilling a bit of daiquiri as he spins around.

“Hi hot stuff.” Handing me a frozen glass he kisses me with icy lips. Now that his hands are free, he brings his cold finger tips to the top of my hot pink terry cloth tube top and shorts romper. As I sip in sweet strawberry, he pulls down the whole kit and kaboodle. Kissing my nipples with red tinted lips and running his cool tongue between my breasts, he travels down.

It tickles so I throw my head back and laugh, kicking off my jellies I lead him to the pond. Gracefully, I step into the pool, submerging myself up to the banana clip. Dave has stopped at the edge of the pool. “I want to watch you” he says dick in the breeze. Taking a long drink from the daiquiri glass he watches me, hungrily. I know what drives him wild. So I do my very best Lady Slipper synchronized swimming move. One shimmering leg pointed towards the sky as I sink down, down, down until finally my big toe dips just below the water line.

SPLASH! He’s jumped in with me. Suddenly, David has pulled me into his strong arms, water pours off of our hair, down our faces and into our mouths as we grasp at each other like animals. Chlorine, strawberry, salt, and Aqua Net blend into a passionate cocktail of our lovemaking. He is inside me, and we are creating great waves. Waves that crash against the side of the pool spilling over onto the hot beige concrete, turning into steam. Each time we crash together I am more and more in love with this man, my David Seville, father of ALLLLVIIIIINNNN!!!!

We fall apart and float, holding hands, staring into the great blue sky through palm fronds and oxytocin.

Becky Poole

Actor, VO, writer, saw player. Based in LA. I write feminist murder ballads, eat up neuroscience, and wish I was a better SJW.