Hurts So Good III

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

Hurts So Good Part II: "Unleashing The Beast"

Some people get herpes, the clap, a baby, burning peepee, or even God-Forbid AIDS from a sport fuck…I got Vampirism. I got it from Sophie.

And now, I was about to HEAD from her too.

Life’s fucked up like that.

Sophie was a blonde sexy beast of desire now….her hands all over me…my body completely naked and helpless on the bed. I could only sit up so far, just enough to be able to watch what she was doing to my flesh, just the way she wanted me to. Any further, and Sophie made sure I’d pay for it.

“Ut at AHH!” Sophie seductively chided, scratching her long sharp nails down my heaving chest as I tried to fight her dominant position over me. Sure, it drew a LITTLE blood, (okay MORE than a little) but fear not, It’ll heal.

In thirty seconds or less…or it’s free!!

Sophie took her time…I could tell she had put a LOT of thought into this moment, just what she’d do once she got me naked and at her mercy. The licking, the sucking, running little ringlets of tongue around my nipples, then sucking and taking them into the grip of her very wet lips, stroking my now hard breathing chest with her fingertips, long blond locks like silken wheat brushing against my bare skin. She pretty much worshipped my naked upper body with her mouth and hands, molding, tracing her soft touch to every hard curve and muscle, taking me in, exploring me a little at a time. My broad shoulders tightened, my abs clenched and became a well-defined six-pac of muscular perfection through the electrically wonderful and wet hot sensitivity of her touch. GOD, her lips felt SOOO good…it was like the sensors on my skin were already having little tiny orgasms…again and again, every time her hot breath, wet moisture from her mouth, or a strand of hair brushed along their surfaces. My entire chest and stomach was becoming moist…and feeling completely desired.

And she continued to move downward…her pace growing, licking, kissing, more rapidly by the moment. Inching closer, ever closer to what lay between my legs. I ran my finger through her hair, then down the taut, pampered white flesh of her well toned shoulder muscles. I attempted to work the final strap of her dress off, but couldn’t quite make it on account of my near helpless position.

Not to worry though, Sophie was on top of it.

Moaning one more time with her face buried lustfully into my chest, she rose up again, taking her time as she first inched off of me, and then off of the bed, back on to her black high heeled feet. An evil smile permanently painted between her cheeks.

“Are you ready for me? Would you like to WATCH me get myself ready for you?”

Sure, I could’ve nodded like a 12-year old pubescent happy schoolboy about to blow his load…or said something macho and rather college stud-esque like a proud beer commercial grade “Hell Yeah!!” But, it’s not like I HAD to…IT did all the talking for me. My nine inch IT suddenly jumped up and “convulsed” throbbing from ball base to the bullet smooth tip at the sound of Sophie’s throaty voice. My cock pointed straight for the sky and was just ACHING to be mounted by a dripping wet pussy.

“What do you think baby?” Said I, in my deepest most desperately horny (yet still sexy) voice I could manage.

Sophie just snorted a little playful laugh and leaned forward ever so slightly over the bed, bending at her waist, to let me take in her “view” one last time while she was still covered up. She made sure I could see it, she made sure I could almost FEEL it…she got that close again. Her bountiful cleavage was laid out before my eyes. Orange sized, fully round breasts with poised nipples already peaking their telltale signature though the sheer fabric of her summer dress…I was so glad she had chosen not to wear a bra.

Then it began, the unveiling. Not blinking, not thinking, man and woman just FEELING the strong desire between us, Sophie gazed eye-to eye with me as she stood full-forward and far back enough from the bed that I could see almost everything except maybe her ankles. Little by little, fingertip creep, an inch at a time, they sadistically played with that last single strap…the only thing holding her gorgeous nudity back from me. Almost anti-climatically, Sophie slid the strap off from her shoulder with a coy little smile, and immediately began to turn away from me, rotating her body a little at a time, slowly, VERY slowly, letting me see her in the round, her swaying hips and gravity brought that dress down around her feet.  Sophie then “artistically” stepped out of that silken “shackle” and kicked the heels off her feet, in a rather charming way.

I had nearly forgotten how good she looked in the buff. Sophie’s ass was a sight to behold, so bubbly, white, and firm, explosive femininity from every corner and inch of skin, little dimples at the small of her back that seemed barely there, sassy bare hips, hourglass wide with welcome for a man’s hands to grab them with forceful desire. Then came her perky supple tits with bright cherry red fat button nipples and areolas, her perfect little ovall “innie” bellybutton with just a hint of a ring piercing, her compact thigh muscles and, those long, graceful legs. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to fuck her.

“You’re enjoying this already I can tell…”

What gave me away baby, the goofy ass smile on my face, the EXTREMELY hard dick, or how sticky the head is already and dripping as we speak…err…I mean THINK?

“…buuut…I know you’re in need of a little more…action.”

I knew where Sophie was going next, I could see it in her face. Those long stares up and down the length of my sinewy nude body, her lustful gaze lingering for just a little too long on my crotch. The puckering and pulsing of those sweet lips, the slight half a second devious lick of her tongue tip in personal lubrication and anticipation. She couldn’t wait to taste it…and neither could I. (As in HER tasting me…I couldn’t wait for her to… not that that I wanted to taste my own…oh…you get the idea!!)

Sophie moved in for the kill. Hands and knees, hands and knees, arching that tight ass in the air, I watched flat on my back as she crawled, seductively stalking  my…well…rather…large…stalk. So graceful she could move, so catlike…green eyes ablaze with playful lust and swaying long blond locks of golden hair, porcelain baby soft skin and athletic, ladylike limbs caressing the bed sheets as she prepared to pounce my meat, her delicious body already coated in a light sheen of anxious naked sweat. 

Here kitty, kitty!

 Sophie took hold of my cock. Her large and long palmed hand not even completely around my manhood. Nine upward curving smooth inches with seven and a-half inches of circumference to try and “resist” her ever tightening grasp.

Yeaaaah baby…that’s it…come’on baby…take it…take it down.

I watched in awe as she watched me, her green eyes looking up from my crotch in temporary submission, squeezing the girth of my cock shaft ever so slightly in her hand. Sophie began licking me very, VERY slowly, low, full bodied strokes of her soft, wet tongue moving gracefully up, up and down, up and down, from the base of my totally bare shaven ball sac, all along the bulging lower “spine” of my shaft to do a cork-screw swirl of her tongue tip all the way around the head of my penis. Sophie licked it, again and again, so deliciously slow, like licking a triple-scooped ice cream cone, bathing my rigid boner in soothing warm wetness from her lips and tongue. Through all this, Sophie almost never took her eyes off mine. Her expression was of a kind of beautiful cross between serenity and ravenous hunger, if that makes a damn bit of sense.

“I know it lover…(pauses briefly to swirl her tongue around my cockhead again) No matter how long… (begins massaging my swollen balls in her other hand) ….and HARD….you try to hide it…I KNOW  that you want me….I know you’ve thought about being with me again….my face…lying on my stomach between your legs…pleasuring your cock with my mouth…”She dropped down with her face below my crotch and blew a sweet breeze of hot air down  toward the direction of my anus, before coming up VERY slowly in a sexual “basset hound” tongue lap of my balls, only to look back up into my eyes again and tease me. “Licking your balls, your balls so full of fire, so full of seed…so full with hot cum…” Ohhhhh damnit…NOW she starts in with the suction from her lips…pressing them to the soft smooth balmy flesh of my balls, “vacuum sucking “ on them, lifting them up a testicle at a time to her mouth, stretching and spreading my sack in a lustful lipped embrace. “…so desperate for a woman’s touch…MY touch….my mouth…my hands…” She then tilted her head to the side, first on the left, then the right, bracing the shaft of my cock, tracing the upward curvature of my long, thick penis with her lips, beating the tip of her tongue in a vibrating rhythm as she went up and down. God…she was good! Though she ought to be, after being alive and pleasuring lovers for more than a hundred years. (130 years old…going on 23!) “…so desperate for release…desperately wanting to admit with your body that you want to make love to me as bad as I want you to do me.”

With one last devious little smile, Sophie went down on it all the way, to my deeply guttural moans of caveman eagerness. She moaned excitedly in return, first easing the bullet head of my boner in, then opening her mouth even wider, so she could slide her face in a side-to-side see-saw motion, forcing me to watch as she made almost my whole big manly cock disappear. In seconds, my dick was virtually gone, almost all the way to the catch in the back of her throat. I fell back on the bed now too, my head rearing against the pillow, my face wizening in unbelievable joy and pleasurable sensations.

 Ladies, there’s nothing in the world quite like watching and feeling a beautiful naked woman service your most proud…asset…ESPECIALLY when your asset happens to be a tad large, and your lover has taken almost all of it down her throat in one go. If, by a miracle of some weird-ass magic you get to be a man for a day, I highly recommend this as the first thing on your to-do list.

Sophie was ravenous now in her desire to bring me pleasure, her face bobbing up and down on my stiff cum rod with reckless horny abandon. Up and down, up and down, twisting side-to-side with her face and jaw working faster and faster, squeezing as tight as she could, when she could in all the right spots on a cock that would provide the proper friction. It seemed she could stay down forever. I don’t hardly remember a moment she stopped sucking the living shit out of my dick to get some air, but she MUST have, she was putting that much of herself into it. Gawwwwwd. Sophie seemed like she was everywhere in seconds, her lips applying a unbelievably wonderful amount of suction in the groove around my cock head, her tongue tip beating another rhythm inside my peehole, her mouth and throat working my shaft, and one hand vigorously jerking off what was left over from her mouth while its partner was cup-massaging my balls. In Heaven…Me? Heck yeah! You better believe it!

How the FUCK could I have been drunk when having sex with this woman the last time?? Chet, you’re a DUMBASS!!

Sophie’s abilities at giving head were absolutely fantastic, shoot, no make that, surreal and incredible. I could hardly think, I could hardly concentrate on anything, only the sensation of intense pleasure remained. It was a wave, a wave of a kind of white-hot energy radiating outward and upward from my cock and balls, throughout my body, leaving me practically delirious. Heat, the “sweet, sweet butterflies” the jitters of excitement and extreme arousal fluttering around in my stomach and balls were so strong, so intense, it was almost making me feel a little sick. Already I was just about to the brink, a big full load of more than a week’s worth of cum was stored up inside me, and feeling her suction, her wet lips, and now BOTH of her hands, vigorously devouring and jerking off my soaking wet fuckrod made me want to let it go, to just shoot it all off, coating the inside of her mouth, throat and face in forceful hard-pressured stream after stream of pure white manfroth. A big part of me wanted it (the one between my legs, duh) Hell, maybe even Sophie wanted me to just do it, to just cum so fast and hard, she certainly wasn’t slowing her stroke down as my balls seem to seize and tense up and my cries of desire were becoming more baited and deep. (In fact, she might’ve been speeding up.) But, as gorgeous as Sophie was (and is) from the neck up, I knew it’d be a shame to waste such a huge load of my cum on it, especially when there were a lot more places in which to leave my “mark” on her.

And I would…Damn STRAIGHT.

It was time. It was time for me to show HER just what the fuck she was doing to me, the animal she was sucking the stic…err…I mean POKING WITH a stick. It was time for the man in the room (me) to take control.

Even though I hadn’t really realized it at the time, as Sophie was working over my manhood, a “change” of sorts was occurring…a rapid shift actually. I barely remembered it at all, that I had my hand on the back of her head as she was sucking me off, that I was grabbing her by the hair forcefully, or that as I was starting to get VERY close to climax that I had started to thrust my prickstick up inside her face with dominance, even as I lay under her in submission. Oh yeah and my pupils were getting very, VERY large, even for me. Normal, sweet, funny Chet was abruptly fading to the background, and another part of me, or someone else entirely was fighting me to take the reigns of my body…and it, what, me, or he, was getting rather impatient.

If I wasn’t coming, HE was, and coming on VERY quickly…to come out and play. For once, I could totally relate to a certain Marvel Comic book hero scientist who got a bit too freaky-deaky with the green radioactive substances….

Oh…you won’t like me when I’m angry….or in this case, horny!

Right about there the “beast” broke loose.

With superhuman speed, I took hold again of Sophie, clamping down hard like a steel bear trap on her golden angelic mane of hair and abruptly pulled her face up and off my cock, adding in a kind of grainy, Freddy Krueger or Linda Blair-esque demonic sounding growl.

“ENNNNOOOOUGH!! Now, it’s YOUUUUUUUR TURRRRRN BAAAABY, RAAAAAAAHWR!”

What the Hell was THAT?! That made me almost wanna piss myself. And THAT came outta MY mouth??

You’d think after realizing you were giving head to someone who had apparently just morphed into Satan, you’d feel a LITTLE…uhh…put out by that…but not my Amazon blondie-locks. Sophie didn’t seem AT ALL freaked by this sharp turn of events in me. In fact, I’d say she was giddy…chuckling like a Keebler elf even.

Wait, in folklore The Devil has a bride right? Umm, Lilly…Linda…noo…Lilliptuia…that’s not it…ah yes..LILITH.

Yeaap, I was about to get me one of those Liliths at a bargain price…and in the woman I was with no less.

And so Sophie crawled up on to my naked body with hers and I rose up from the waist to “collide” hard with her hot and waiting mouth, kissing ferociously. It was passion, sexual fury, animal aggression as my lips “ate” of her flesh, and she of mine, hearts pumping loud and fast drum solos in our chests.

In one powerful move, with my legs somehow able to bend at the knees and feet pressed against the bed for leverage, I “boosted” us both up into the air and “turned the “tables” landing with my muscular young vampire body on top of Sophie on the bed in the dominant position, ready to do whatever I wanted to her and wherever on her tight naked frame I felt like doing it.

 My veins felt as if they were burning, my blood scolding me from the inside like hot lava or fire. My lips “drank” in her flesh, pouncing in and down on top of Sophie VERY closely, brazenly sucking, licking and nibbling on her flesh around her collarbone and at the neck, breathing her sweet fragrance and porcelain sweat in deep as I forced her head back on to the bed, flopping the long delicate tresses of her golden mane in all directions. Sophe tasted salty and hot, my lips and tongue could already FEEL her heart pounding, her breath heavy with the teeth clenching together in anticipation as my mouth and hands prowled their way down the graceful lines of her pure white flesh with authority.

God, she was so hot, so wet, so very ready to be taken…and “eaten alive.”

Taking my time, yet still filled with a ranging masculine vampire hunger for sex, I let my lips and tongue slide their way all down her neck to then take my time really worshipping Sophie’s explosively large tits. One to each hand, they filled my palms completely even spilling over at times in silky soft pearl white “floods” of skin, with my lover’s signs of urging passion in the background. I massaged them gently, rolling the soft flesh in slow, precise deliberate circles with my fingertips, my lips lightly caressing first between them as far as I could go into Sophie’s pronounced cleavage, then down the sides of each breast, licking, tracing and kissing until I had covered each section of their submissive bulbous round skin in the wettest desires of my mouth.  Damn, she must have been really “meditating” on this moment for awhile, for when I FINALLY at last brought the first of her pebble rock hard nipples into my mouth, Sophie cried out in a sudden, short eruptive coo of lustful satisfaction.

Fuuuuck they’re like little baby bullets or something!

Sophie’s nipples may not have been large, but what they lacked in length, they sure made up for in thickness and extreme sensitivity. From the moment I had begun working my way inside each “circle” tracing the outline of her areolas, to then lip and kiss massage my way toward the nipples themselves, Sophie’s whole upper body was already lightly quivering. Her chest rose and fell in an ever increasing crescendo of deep breath and blood pulse as I began to run little tongue tip loop-de-loops around first one nipple and then the other, only then after she was properly “preheated” to clasp my lips around each one applying a firm suction, drawing them in as far as they could go inside me, but never forgetting to keep up the slow circle massage rolls of my hands on the rest of those very well developed breasts.

Sophie did all she could in steamy subliminal body language to let me know what I was doing to her, the ends of her sunny tresses were becoming damp with the dew of aroused sweat, her body sticky and basking in the heat of my hungry forcefully kissing mouth, her limbs spreading and stretching as far as they could to give me room to work, her back arched up from the bed, her bubbly round tits heaving up toward the ceiling, and her belly, that toned firm stomach, thrust forward into my face in surrender to the unstoppable advance of my conquering mouth. It all had one clear message that her body was crying out to me, begging, even if her sexy deep womanly proud voice wasn’t…

Yessss….Eat me Chester, I’m sooo ready and totally wet for you, my kitty needs to be kissed and devoured, eat me, put your mouth between my legs right now, I want to look down and see those sexy blue eyes between my legs  I need it… I WANT IT… please sexy lover of mine, eat my kitty…PLEASE…eat me right…NOW.

I knew it. I could see that desire just aching inside as Sophie raised her head a little to look downward as I worked my way in, very VERY slowly into the deepest, wettest parts of her feminine “valley.” I gazed up only briefly as my ravenous mouth continued to taste and tease its wet hot way down her sexy naked body…in the extreme south of “Soapboxland.” Sophie’s lips were transfixed…her eyes like roused little saucers, her mouth seemed permanently molded into a moaning “O” as she waited. Watching me, begging with her eyes and quivering wide mouth to taste, to lick up her wetness. We made eye contact for a split second, I gave her a devilish little eyebrow smile and then started to kiss-tease the innermost part of her left thigh.

“Ahgawwd…youevil little…fu…fuuucker…ooooohshhhit!!” Sophie breathlessly staggered out in a teeth-grinding murmur of playful aroused frustration.

 I laughed, making sure the vibrations from my mouth worked their way deep through her leg muscles and perhaps even to fade a little further inside her. After about two or three “laps of inner thigh kissing on both sides, and tongue tip tracing my way, navigating the valleys and moist areas of her outer lips, I figured Sophie was about driven crazy enough with sexual anticipation that I could start on my…”final approach.”

I came up from the south, breathing heavily around Sophie’s anus first (naturally to return the favor she had done to me) then along the labia again, gripping, molding my own moist masculine lips to them, sucking, pressing, savoring the flavor of the steamy wetness that had already welled up and out from inside her pussy. Then, continuing very slowly northward, I started working my way dead center of Sophie’s perfectly smooth slot. In one strong, forcefully slow maneuver, I “parted” her wet gash with my tongue, molding it comfortably inside those dripping wet bubble gum pink lips, folding my sticky wet tongue lengthwise, as I barely entered her, then unfurling it like a butterflly’s wings, open close, open close, in and out of her, moving up, tracing that soft, sexy, innermost opening, drinking it in, traveling up the full very soaked length of her dripping pink envelope. I never lost contact with her flesh on this single slow lap-stroke. She tasted slightly tangy, hot, and thick with a fuming wet desire. Once the “single lick track” was complete, I found her clitoral hood, almost open all the way, and with my tongue still moist (or was that drenched?) from Sophie’s ever increasing juices. Of course it wasn’t that hard for the vamp girl to be “flooded” seeing as how there was not a single hair down there around that tight, young pussy to stop her from flowing all over whatever the heck she wanted to. So, at this point I slid the tip of my tongue under her hood, and did all that I could to tease, pleasure, and stimulate my lover there, batting it back and forth, blowing hot air from my mouth, even wrapping the whole clit and hood “tag team” combo in my mouth as much as I could, humming into Sophie very powerfully, blowing, pressing my face into her in ever increasing intensity, watching, listening, vibing with her reactions, adjusting my technique ever so slightly until I started to hear and feel her lose all control in just the way I knew she would, once I had licked…err…I mean PICKED…her soaking wet lock.

Sophie really enjoyed the clit and clit hood humming, especially when I didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about the usual laws of gravity or “normal” naked etiquette and just hopped up on my knees on the bed, taking her sultry smooth legs and lower body with me on my broad “swimmer built” shoulders, spreading them and grinding my face into her sweet spot, playing her pussy like a harmonica while holding on to her legs from underneath. Her body was going crazy, flopping around like a spazmatic in a fitful flailing rapture of ravenous pleasure.

“Oooooh….OOOOH Oh my…oh my…gawdshhIIIIT! AGA-RAAAAR!!”

Sophie didn’t seem to mind a bit that the more and more turned on I was getting as I nibbled and tongue-licked a tune on her hood and clit, the more primal and forcefully superhuman my movements became. Then again she WAS starting to growl at me like a tigress (literally) and her fangs were out pretty much 24/7/365.

Then came her “death grip.”

Picture this, me, hiking up the long gorgeous legs of a blonde vampiress up over on my shoulders. Her head and shoulders now aggressively pressed down into the off-white sheets of the bed in a near vertical position. Sophie’s face almost as a “demonic wolverine” in her throws of passion, my tongue and mouth working at a fitful speed, and those same legs that I previously had mentioned clamping down tighter, ever tighter against the sides of my neck. I’m talking a REALLY HARD squeeze.

This was either getting fucking crazy…or this was crazy fucking…I couldn’t tell which. Come (cum) to think of it, it was probably both.

“Here it is Chester,” Sophie began, her voice breathy, deep and near Bea-Arthur-Satan-ista-esque in her moment of epic climatic oral pleasure…”I’m almost over..the…the…thres…Make me cum, lover…take me there…TAKE ME…or I COULD just snap, SNAP that strong, THICK surfer boy neck of yours that…that  hard fit body gets me SOOOO WET…finish me…please Chester…FINISH ME NOW…MAKE ME CUM!!”

Of course it wasn’t only her who had someone in a near scorpion death lock, if we’re going to start talking dangerous sexual wrestling moves here, I nearly had Sophie in a head-down-to-the-mat “pile-driver” position as I continued to eat her out. At that moment, I wondered that if she climaxed, right here and now, would the force of her orgasm leg spasms inadvertently snap my neck anyway, and in my final move before being veggie-table-ized, would I in turn inadvertently drive her awkwardly positioned head and shoulders down into the mattress?

Tough love is fun, no?

Right about there the horny inner vampie barbarian in me took control again.

Sophie was wild, squealing, nearly hyperventilating. Everything was getting so wet, so slippery, so balmy and hot. Her face flushed with red, her eyes practically black pearls now and rolling back in her skull in sexual frenzy. Sometimes over-stimulation between a woman’s legs isn’t a bad thing. I knew it wouldn’t be long now…she was SO close. Her stomach muscles were clenching then releasing the quick, wonderful tension in rising wave after wave of aroused energy, her hair rolling around on the bed, her teeth nearly biting her lips to the point of drawing blood. Oh yeah, and her tensing fingernails were starting to scratch up my sheets. (Okay, RENT-a-sheets!)

And that’s when I broke it. I broke the “lock” those tight, fit, luscious muscled legs had on me. In my superhuman arousal and adrenaline, I managed to really get a good grip from the sides, and thus, like that helmet-haired dweeb He-Man bending steel beams or something, I overpowered Sophie’s feminine vice grip, forcing her legs apart in a spread eagle V type position, her feet up and over her head, forcing her back down on the bed, her tits flopping and flattening to the sides…so my mouth could pounce that sexy hot pussy of hers one last time…before Sophie’s “dam” gave out and erupted her rapidly approaching orgasm all over my face.

I lunged in. I pressed the attack. Just as she was losing it, just as her face was at its tightest, her most expressive, her most enslaved by ecstasy, just as her toes were curling, just as the stars were starting to rain down in her eyes.  She was helpless. There was nothing she could do, but receive me, receive my desire over her, receive my pleasure, pinning her down, forcibly holding her lower body in place with my hands, keeping her pussy taut front and center, ready to receive my now insanely fast tongue lashing, and then to suck the living daylights out of her clitoris. She was GOING to explode with intense pleasure, and there was nothing she could do about it. Except ACCEPT the fact that it had taken her…and would not let her go.

“Ohhhmaaa….Ohhhmaaa….Ohhhmagawd ohmagawd ohmaGAAAAAWWWD….” Was all Soapbox could mange to get out through the tsunami of suffocating sexual joy that were rising high inside her.

Then came the FLOOD, oh that violently sweet, SWEET flood.

“Uhh…uhhh…AHHHHYEEESSSSSSSSSS AAAAAAAAAAAHFUUUUCK!!!”

With a banshee howl that could wake the dead (and kill the living) Sophie let loose a hot, sticky rush of scorching lady-lube that nearly drown my face and mouth. Her whole tall, elegant frame was trying to spasm, buck, and quiver involuntarily against my firm manly reigns on her. The bed began to creak and rattle like a vibrating mechanism from the bowls of Hell. Her tits radiated electricity, her head and neck snapped back, her eyes closing tight, her brain absorbing a massive blood rush of sexual joy, her lungs gasping through the crushing avalanche of overwhelming sensations, desperate so very desperate to get a breath through the rushing hot high that filled her up now from head to toe. Sophie’s whole body shook violently for a good 10 seconds, and then…nothing. It was over. Her eyelids drooped to a posture of dumbfounded serenity. Her stomach and hips relaxed…and then there was finally a deeply adorable sigh as Sophie regained control of herself.

I finally let her legs fall loose from my grip, only for her to seductively wrap them around my waist, so her toes could slyly tease my ass cheeks a bit.

“Not bad, Rookie…” Sophie playfully teased as her head rose up from the bed to taste herself from my lips, “…not fucking bad a all….for an….appetizer!”

The bed frame groaned already as if it might buckle from any more stress. That’s the kind of thing one of Sophie’s orgasms can do.

And to think, we hadn’t even started really fucking yet.

Poor room, I don’t think you even have a prayer of making it through the night!

(The Dramatic Conclusion Next Time!! :) )

Currently Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga By Spoon "Don't You Evah" see related

Hurts So Good Part I

Part I: "Come And Knock On My Door"

“You gotta lotta NERVE comin’ back here…after what you pulled!!”  Barked out a young man of about 25 to a woman who stood in his doorway.

“HEEEEY!! Do I look like Han Solo to you, Lando Kal-DORKsian?! If you’re gonna whine at me Darling, do it in your own voice, not with some fuckin’ movie quotes.”  The accused shot back, with complete composure, “Besides, this is my town, not yours…YOU came up HERE to see ME..remember??”

“And WHO asked ME to come up to Boston and WHO’S standing in WHO’S doorway of WHO’S hotel room in WHO’S…um..HE…WHO… here, hmm…HMMMM??”

Yaknow what? Let me back up a bit and reload this bad boy, ‘cuz that last line there even made me dizzy.

Sophie is and has always been a handful…in every way you can possibly imagine.

Yeaaap…I’m that young guy…but, more importantly, I kinda had SOME reason to be a little peeved at the woman in my doorway…or uhh…my temporary rent-a-doorway, doorway.

Ever had a “One Night Stand?”

Good for you.

Okay, ever had a drunken One Night Stand where you have a GREAAAAT time with a VERY beautiful partner but then find out afterwards that NOW you have something you shouldn’t have because of THEM??

Hopefully not too many of you are nodding along…but if you are, let’s just say I feel you…Dawg.

THAT is the eye of the rub here folks…or something sophisticated and Shakespearian sounding like that.

FINE DAMNIT!! I’ll begin again at the part you most likely want to hear about…just who the Hell this Sophie creature is.

For starters, she grew up spoiled…VERY spoiled, the New England “Old Money” type. A type so old money and snooty that even her farts would come announced a day in advance with a trumpeting fanfare, and then end with the fart itself…a rather anti-climatic little “toy dog” poot.

Sophie is a young looking lass, about 22…ish in appearance, with long, straight, perfectly tangle free tresses of long almost shimmering blonde hair. (I can see she still won’t accept the reality of her natural dirty blond locks, but at least there aren’t the gaudy hot pink “punk girl” strands mixed in there with the peroxi-yellow, like the last time I saw her.) A pristine Oil-Of-Olay oval face with tweezy sharp little thin eyebrows, intoxicating jade green eyes with prominent flirty eyelashes, a cute, yet long nose, and full, playful lips…a looker. Oh yeah, and she’s tall…VERY tall…like say, 6-foot easily…nice pouty flared-out hips (the classic Hourglass figure) …still has that tight ass you could bounce silver bullets off of (assuming she were a werehottie of course) and full, orange-sized natural breasts (D-cups at least, if not doubles.) She has the kind of tits that could make any man with a large penis knock himself out with his own spontaneous erection, IF he were to simultaneously bend down to pick up a dropped item from her purse…ANND then, “accidentally” look down her shirt  (Which we both know he would!)

Or em….nevermind.

I did mention her long legs too in there somewhere right? If I didn’t, there you go, she had long dancer’s legs. All and all, Sophie is Nordic looking…a tall, blonde limited edition porcelain pale skinned China doll of a woman. A von-Helga, The New England Yetti” yet, also a confirmed Venus penis flytrap.

What can I say? I’m a dude…I see beautiful women, I get hard…’Nuff said.

I wish I wasn’t erect right now. It’s hard to be mad at a woman when your cock is already practically “waving” the white flag of surrender.

Except in this particular case, the flag was not white, but jet black, and also strangely enough, not a flag at all, but a complimentary bathrobe from my hotel, and to be even further accurate, I was now getting worried that the “flag” might fall off the pole, or…uhh…that the pole might get so “happy” in its pole-ish duties it might jump up from the base and buck the flag right off, exposing the “knob” of the flagpole to the open air.

Yaknow what, SCREW the whole flag metaphor…it was a stupid comparison anyway!

I wonder if she noticed?

“Well, well…”

Yeaaaaap.

“ (Drawn out faux bratty sigh) at least not EVERYONE… (glancing downward) …is mad at me. “

“It’s got NOTHING to do with you, I just got out of the shower, and HE likes warm water.” I answered with a kind of macho defiance.

“I know Darling, we’ve been previously… introduced. Or have you forgotten so soon how I would know about how…RESPONSIVE you are in a Jacuzzi? Sophie added with a playfully evil glint in her eyes, and of something of a kind of…hair flip I guess.

What a little princess!!

“I never REMEMBERED in the first place, uh, that’s kinda the point!”

“OR..the POINT could be down there, let’s see…(glances down mischievously at my crotch again) Yes, Indeed it is! (Teasing) “Hi Mr. Point, so nice of you to come UP and pay a visit…long time no s-“

“-Okay okay ENOUGH…you could come inside and tease me about my Boner rather than out in the hallway where everyone can hear you.” I interrupted, in a tone that was rather crotchety (no pun intended!)

“Like, who?? It’s after Midnight…”

“Just hurry up and get your butt in here before I change my mind!”

“WELLLL…since you put it THAT way…”

Still cool as ever, Sophie did exactly as I bid her, calmly strolling into my room at a slow molasses strut, one sexy smooth long leg after the other, before sitting herself down on my modest rent-a-chaise-lounge with a breathy sigh, stretching her arms and popping her graceful neck muscles as if getting ready for something. Ready for what, I have no idea.

Hmm…is that Dolce and Gabana? Damn, that smells good. She feels really warm too. Could I be making her more nervous than she puts on? Hmm…and what is that, silk?

My fingertips must’ve brushed against her dress and smooth bare shoulder as I showed her inside. Sophie had on a spaghetti strap-y kind of sky navy blue summer party dress number that barely brushed below her thighs, all this to further accentuate her legs-for-days.

Ten bucks says she’s not wearing any underwear…but just WHO the heck am I making this bet with? The non-existent voices in my head? Dumbass!!

I slammed the door and made a grumpy march for my rent-a-kitchen.

(Okay, I didn’t really MEAN to slam the door, my hand slipped, but then again what’s the difference? The “dramatic punch” of it might’ve helped sell my cause.)

“Want a drink?” Asked yours truly, more out of politeness than anything else. Sophie probably knew, but didn’t care.

“I’ll take some Gin, Bailey’s, or a half-decent Vodka if you have it.”

“Well, let’s see…(pretending to look in the fridge as if I didn’t know what I had already) I’ve got Beer…and….Beer…”

“Wow…such a momentous decision…and a difficult choice between the two…HMMMMMmmmmm…I think I’ll have a Beer!!”

Nothing I could do or say seemed to be able to shake her mood…or her super-human reflexes as I chucked a can of Heineken at her from a distance. Sophie caught it lighting fast and made it look all too easy. I tried hard not to smile. As many times as I’ve seen her do that, it never fails to impress me.

I grabbed one too, then flopped down on the pleather recliner across from her.

“Why is it that we always seem to meet in hotels and one of us is always wearing a bathrobe?” Asked I, with a starched sarcasm.

“You seem to be conveniently forgetting that quaint little biker bar down in Houston…” Sophie began with an over-exaggerated little schoolgirl innocence, “…OOH!  And that time at the really nice restaurant where we planned to have a nice meal of lobster and TRUCE together overlooking the water and… (feigning forgetfulness) Oh GOLLY when was that Darling? Ah yes…just FOUR HOURS AGO!!”

“My pancreas was sore.” I retorted with deadpan snarkiness.

Sophie smiled first, as if laughing at a joke I never told, popped the top on her beer, then paused for several beats, as if carefully thinking about what to say next. Apparently satisfied on her next course of verbal action, she leaned in and stared me down with those deliciously green eyes. Her huge pupils were even bigger and blacker than they usually were.

“Chester, may I ask you something?”

Normally, I would be busting balls after hearing a question like this. It always grates on my nerves when dang near ANYBODY asks this. It’s almost like a double negative…I mean, seriously, who in the English language first thought it would be such a marvelous idea to ask a question on whether or not they can ask a question? And in so bringing up the issue I have to go and ask ANOTHER question inside a question’s question or…umm…nevermind.

This time, I must say I was a bit disarmed by the tone of her voice in that moment…she had asked this in the most damn near genuine and caring way I could ever remember her speaking to me. Hell, even I’m not THAT much of a bastard. I owed it to her I guess to hear her out…just couldn’t quite let her know it is all. THAT would be WAY too easy! She’s a big girl, she can EARN my sympathy.

“That’s what you’re here for, right?” I jabbed, but this time only at half impulse power.

No more “foreplay” Sophie just came out with it.

“…Why do you hate me so much?”

Nope, I didn’t even have to think of the reason, though I did secretly find her use of the word “hate” to be a little bit too strong of an adjective to use when she described my feelings towards her…after all, just LOOK at her…oh wait, you can’t, you’re stuck just reading along…poor suckers!!

“Does THIS ring any bells?!?!”  I asked, pushing back the sleeve of my robe to reveal a ghost white pale arm.

Sophie rolled her eyes at me and smiled.

“So?? You’re a white boy. You were a white boy before you met me and you’re an even whiter white boy now. Big fuckin’ deal. So was I.”

“Wait, YOU were once a white BOY?? (A quick devious glance to her big, juicy tits)  Give my compliments then to the Doc who gave you those. They look so NATURAL!”

For once we were both agreeing on something, a brief laughing smile.

“And FEEL so natural too, maybe because they ARE. But, that’s not what I meant and you KNOW it, Hobbit!!”

Sophie paused for a bit to take a sip of beer as I looked on. She WAS a blue blood girl after all. Debs never chug-a-lug….until the fourth or FIFTH beer.  Then they do a Keg Stand.

Funny, I hadn’t even opened mine yet; I was too distracted. Distracted either by my “anger” or the way her perfect Amazonian body looked in that tight dress, I can’t be sure which. (Probably both.)

“You still haven’t answered my question …you act like I ruined your life that night. You’re always miffed when you’re around me. Apparently so miffed that you can’t even be bothered to show up when I’m offering to PAY for dinner and make amends with you…why??”

“ Why do you care??”

“No! I asked YOU first, so answer me. Chester, WHY do you hate me so much??”

Chester…only she and my dear old Mom ever got away with calling me by my proper name, any of the other women in my life will get a deadly dirty look from the evil eye…because I HATE it…especially the sound of it. Chester, it’s like a name for some little calico catfood mascot with a jester’s hat of its head with the ears sticking out the top and an adorably hideous jingle bell collar. Hence, everyone else calls me Chet. Sophie just took it upon herself to only refer to me by the name on my birth certificate (did it NEVER occur to her that I might NOT LIKE that name??) Still, it would’ve helped if I ever got around to correcting her…which I haven’t…just in case you’re wondering. Why? I don’t rightly know. Maybe I figured it wasn’t important seeing how we’ve only seen each other twice since the last ice age, or maybe I just like how it sounds when it comes out of her mouth…all prim and sophisticated…like Miller Hi-Life or something.

Damn, so…where was I? Ah yes…HERE….

“Well giving someone an incurable bug that permeates their blood stream and PERMANATLY ALTERES their body and appearance MIGHT be a good place to start!”

“I SAID I was sorry…only about a MILLION times over the years!!”

“Yeah, yeah? Well say it again!”

“No!”

Okay, NOW she’s chugging it…wants to hurry up and finish it all down so she can get back to fighting me properly without the further distraction of an ice cold…beeeeer. (Thirsty yet?) Sophie crushed the empty can quite severely, then tossed its used up contents on a lamp stand nearby.

“No??”

“No!”

“Why not??”

“Because!!”

“Because WHY??”

“ (Almost in a singing voice) Because because because…of the wonderful things he DOES!!”

I got to admit, that last one threw me for a loop…It was all I could do to keep from snickering with laughter and remain in “character” The Wizard Of Oz in the middle of a fight is some delightfully fucked up shit.

Pout Chet damnit, POUT!!

Then, she goes into sensitive contemplative mode again.

“Where are you now??”

HUH?? This woman can shift emotional gears (or at least in her presentation) faster than a hick racecar driver on amphetamines. Oh, did I mention that Sophie really IS good at handling a stick…shift?

“Ummm where AM I….lemme see….uh…in this hotel room…in the city of Boston in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts on planet Earth, in a place that if one of those people that made lighted Mall Map doohickeys was wanting to make a Mall Map doohickey of this VERY spot, I’d be standing where the festive orange stickman says ‘YOU ARE HERE? ‘ “

“How about….ALIVE?? That ring any BELLS??”

“Ummm…well I suppose it has more dope beats and rhymes than being dead…emm…I guess…”

“Exactly!!”

“Exactly…WHAT??”

“ (Sighing slightly frustrated at my jackass behavior) That YOU’RE ALIVE! If I hadn’t done what I did to you, you wouldn’t be ALIVE! Ever stop for a moment and actually think of THANKING ME for saving YOUR life??”

Okay NOW I’m drinking too. I rose from the chair and moved in closer as I took a hard swallow, set the can back down on an end table, then fired off.

“Okay, FIRST off…I wouldn’t have been where I was… in NEED of life-saving if you hadn’t gone and-“

“-I was NECKING with you!!”

“Shaaa, THAT’S the understatement of the century!!”

Now she was fired up…her jade orbs were practically shooting lighting bolts at me.

“Uh, HEELLLO?? It was NeeecKINNG…yaknow, what MOST NORMAL HORNY people do during sexual intercourse and-“

“At---AAAAT!” Practically raising my index finger at her in the kind of dismissive, “I don’t want to hear it little girl” manner that would tee-off even a Zen Buddhist monk on a cocktail of Valium and Ambien. “Don’t even GO there…and secondly, I’d be more than HAPPY to thank you for saving MY life, IF you had actually given MY life back to me! You gave me yours instead.”

Oh she was up on her feet now, and about to get in my face.

“Ohhh Pleeeease Chester!! Spare me the pity party!! What kind of life did you have before uhh….before…ME anyway?? You were a College bum slacker, and you’re a bum slacker now. All that’s changed is the College part and the-“

“I’m NOT FINISHED Soapbox…”

What?? I call her Soapbox sometimes. Why? How the Hell should I know, it just popped out when I was talking (okay, ARGUING) with her the first time after our infamous One Night Stand. Sophie…Soapbox…Sophie…Soapbox… I just like the sound of it, so what? It’s not like she’s ever attempted to correct me. Maybe she just blocks it out when she hears me say it. Maybe she likes the sound of it too, or is secretly comforted by the fact I’ve given some woman I “hate” a pet name…who knows?

In any rate, enough with that shit, it was time for my Grande Finale.

“…And LASTLY, to add insult to injury, I apparently gave the best SEXUAL performance of my LIFE with a tall VERY well-endowed beautiful woman, in and out of a jacuzzi, and I have NO MEMORY of it whatsoever!!”

Speaking of well-endowed, did I happen to already mention that Sophie was now up in my personal space, and despite her height advantage over me, (I’m barely 5’10, if that) IT was brushing up against her leg a little.

If I thought that my words would infuriate her, get her storming out of my room in a huff, or that the sudden “accidental violation” of her inner thigh with my erect penis would make her mad, I was DEAD wrong. None of them had worked. In fact, she was smiling…a closed mouth, “Mona Lisa” smirk.

Oh yeah, and then she lunged into my face and stuck her tongue down my throat.

Why is it that EVERY TIME I argue with a woman, they always want to make out with me??

Whoa.

I must admit, it felt good, no, scratch that, it felt SERENDIPITIOUS. I had damn near forgotten how warm she felt, the skill and smoothness of her lips as they danced passionately with mine, tongue to tongue, tip to tip, her hot breath, the firmness of her limbs, the gentle baby softness of her flowing blonde hair, the moist sensuality of her exposed skin. Every time I could feel her breathing inside my mouth, or her tender fingers gently caressing my face, or the warmth of her body heat “aura” colliding with mine, I got goosebumps. I now KNEW her whole purpose for being here. Damn her kiss was immaculate, but I STILL wanted to get a few more…answers from her. Sure I’m a man, but I still have SOME self-control…and, oh yeah, my pride to consider.

“Whu…whuoa…WHOOOOA!!’ Said I, trying to mumble out something as a VERY skilled female tongue was taking mine to places it didn’t want to go. (Or maybe it did…just not so soon.)

I pushed her back a little, breaking the connection.

“What?” Sophie asked, a slightly confused smile on her face.

“WHAT are you doing??” Asked yours truly in a mixed drink query that was two parts arousal and breathy and one part cold water and Jim’s Dad from American Pie, POST the” pastry intercourse” but of course!

“Darling, it’s called ‘KISSING’ Verb, a common form of showing love and pleasure, also see: SEDUCTION BY MOUTH. “   Sophie retorted, her DJ smooth feminine voice drenched heavily in a sexy sarcasm.

She started her approach again, this time her hands were really working my shoulders, and her soft wet lips were sucking on every place of exposed white chest flesh she could find. NOW my cock was starting to hurt with its level of stone hardness….I knew my pride and resistance couldn’t hold out much longer. But, for some reason, I HAD to try.

“But….(moaning deeply as she starts to suck on my neck “aaahgaawd” ) I…I thought…we…were…(“Oooo”) We were…(her fingertips were crawling their way down my abs toward my bathrobe’s knot) …supposed to be…fighting?”

She stopped fiddling with the knot for a moment to seductively slip her long “model” hands underneath my bathrobe, flipping the back end up so she could grab my firm, athletic buttocks and pull me closer to her.

“But we ARE fighting Chester…we ARE…”

I could feel a delicate fingertip or two begin to trace its way around the inner half of one of my buttcheeks, before it began playing its way around my asshole.

Ooooooooh…Daaaamn….

I let out an uncontrollable sigh of deep eroticism…this was going to be a LOT harder than I thought.. (Yes, pun intended!)

“…You see, I AM fighting for what I KNOW we BOTH want…” Sophie began, whispering against my chest and neck, “And YOU’RE fighting to pretend that you DON’T want to know what you missed out on when you were there with me the last time…” Her hips and pelvis were now gently “bracing” my own…a near perfect fit…as she then began to slowly grind her tightly clothed and fit body into mine…”But lover, this is one time…” she whispered breathlessly grinding me a little bit faster, looking deeply into my huge black pupils and baby blue irises with the green of her own, “…where I can assure you ignorance…” Even without the aide of her hands to undo the knot, the head of my cock was already almost fully out “peaking” into the air from under the oppressive cloth of the bathrobe, “…is not BLISS…”precum already drizzling out from the top,  “…I AM.”

Oh God!

Sophie then looked down and saw IT…my trouser snake, starting to fight its way free, the head and shaft of my upward curving cock coming out to play in all ITs glory. She then looked up into my eyes again and smiled that deliciously lustful smirk.

“Besides…how CAN either of us possibly ignore…” Her fingertips were now creeping their way around the upper shaft and exposed head of my cock,  “The BIG nine inch elephant in the room.” She was really stroking the tip now…enjoying her part in “molesting” my manhood.

Yeah, I’m well hung….So what of it?  

Smirk.

I don’t know how or why I did it, especially when she was pretty much holding the first two inches of my shlong hostage, but…I pushed her.

Yeaaap, that’s what I said, PUSHED HER.

Pushed her off right at the shoulders. Pretty hard too, so hard in fact, that she went flying…no seriously, FLYING. Sophie flew through the air backward at superhuman speed away from me about two feet, maybe more, and landed butt first on top of a coffee table, breaking off the legs and smashing the surface down onto the floor.

Don’t worry Sophie wasn’t hurt. (A little SURPISED maybe, but not hurt.)

I have to say, in spite of the apparent “violence” of the broken coffee table, she looked kind of funny. The right strap of her little dress torn (in a VERY sexy way too, I might add) her long blonde tresses all scattered and disheveled in front of her face, and the bratty, sourpuss little girl pout as she hurriedly brushed them aside like I had just thrown a swampy mudpie at her and hit her in the face. Really, she looked adorable… a grown up and EXTREMELY SEXY kind of adorable, but whatever.

I was trying not to bust up laughing. (OR to pounce on top of her and do her right there on the floor.)

What can I say? Seeing “Miss Priss” knocked on her (hard and very toned) ass turned me on.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. When she slowly rose to her feet, I saw a very devious little “evil brow” grin on her face. HOOO boy, I’m in TROUBLE.

“Not bad, ROOKIE…” Sophie smiled, brushing off her dress and picking out a table splinter or two from her butt, “ BUT…(as if playfully singing again) ‘anything you can do, I can do BETTER…”

With cheetah speed Sophie became a blur, charging me flat-palmed and shoving with full-force, sending me aloft even further back in the room, probably twice the distance of my effort…with my arms and legs flailing like a helpless baby. I touch-downed first on the foot of the bed, then bounced off of that like a Mars rover or something, then did a kind of half-somersault-y   thing, before landing back-of-the-head first into a large mirror behind the bed. Like…Ow…man.

“…I can do ANYTHING BETTER than you!”

Sophie quickly followed up on her fallen “prey.”

“ (Singing along…well…sort of) No you can’t!!” replied I as I tried to sit up…and shake out any chards of glass that might still be in my hairline.

Before I could fully rise, Sophie was upon me, taking both sides of my robe in her hands at the neckline and hungrily ripping it off my body, sending both halves flying as whole pieces in opposite directions, landing quickly on either side of the bed.

“Yes I CAN!!”

And right about THERE is when she decided to finally bare her sharp fangs and hiss at me.

What??  I DID already mention that we’re both VAMPIRES right?

Funny, I could of SWORN I already did…somewhere in there.

Want to take a guess WHO I got it from??

(Part II....Forthcumming! ;) )

The Unknowable Woman

WAAAAIT!!

 

DON'T LOOK AT ME!! I MEAN IT, DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT ME!! Lower your eyes this instant!!

 

 I'm sorry, no, I really AM sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you like that. It's not that I'm mad at you or anything...I just wanted to keep you safe. It's been so long since I've talked to anyone REAL and I didn't want to spoil the sweetness of the moment because of my hideousness. No no, I really AM hideous, trust me. Don't have my face on yet? Ha! You have no idea. Truth is, I haven't had my face on for quite awhile...my own face...my REAL face. Mine was stolen away from me a long time ago.

 

What's my name? You're starting to turn your eyes up toward me aga-...I SAID DON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!! I swear it's only for your own safety...I'm a freak!! No, I am not exaggerating, not even by a cubit. I really am trying to protect you. In fact, my name MEANS "Protector" or "Guardian" but you wouldn't know that probably. People don't say my name with any kindness or pride in their voices anymore, if they even say it at all.

 

Didn't catch my name? You're right you didn't, and I don't think I'm going to tell you. People tend to hate hearing it, they run away from it ....and me. I'm so tired of everyone running away....so tired of being alone. So if you don't mind I think I'll just go on as if we've already done the awkward introductions...DON'T RAISE YOUR EYES!! KEEP'UM DOWN! MY FACE IS NUCLEAR WASTE!! VOLCANO LAVA ISLAND HOT HOT!

 

Sorry...did it again. Okay, this isn't working for us is it? How about I just turn my back to you, it'd be a lot easier than trying to keep you from doing what your eyes only seek to do naturally, and I don't like trying to talk to people while cowering behind a stone gladiator's ass...VERY distracting in its once physical perfection... and I was seriously looking forward to meeting him too and then...nevermind...wait...okay, I'm turning around...still turning around...tuuurrrning arrrround and...THERE! Is that better??

 

Yesss, that IS my real hair! Yes they're real and YES I'd advise you to keep a safe distance. You can't even IMAGINE what a pain in the neck it is to brush out in the morning...LITERALLY. Puts things into perspective doesn't it? When you're complaining your head off about split ends or heat damage just look at me...NO WAIT DON'T LOOK AT ME!! Again, so sorry...I sometimes forget even for a moment that I am not human anymore...or so the "higher ups" try to tell me.

 

I didn't always have hair this...uhh..."lively" and wild yaknow. When I was young...wait, I may be still technically young under all this uh...nevermind...let's just say a long time ago I had BEAUTIFUL hair. All jet black,shiny, the most delicate gentle curls... perfumed chords of silken virginity as the orators and the lyres would once sing. And my eyes were even better, the most intoxicating shade of...uh...amber...yes golden amber, nicely shaped curvy hips and a full bosom too. I had the soft "sun-kissed" look all you young girls today dream about and read all those silly magazines to get the "secrets" of.Oh, Oh sure, I read magazines, they DO wash up on shore from time to time...and then there are those poor tourists and lost sponge divers...by the way, who is Sponge Bob Squarepants?? HPMH! And they call ME ugly!! 

 

But, to get to the point, I was quite the beauty queen...once...but that's another lifetime ago...or two....or seven...yaknow what? Let's just make it a Baker's Dozen and move on...that'll work.

 

That's why they picked me. Because I was so very pretty, and innocent...or to be more precise why SHE picked me. See, in those days people believed that the more beautiful, soft, doe-eyed and full-figured you were, the more pure and innocent of belly...err...innocent and pure of HEART...yes, that's what you people say nowadays. Seems silly to me, as how when you speak with a loud voice it always flows out deep from within the belly, but whatever...get with the times! And that's not true either, you know! I knew plenty of girls on the island where I grew up who looked just as "chaste" and "well behaved" as I was, yet they lifted up their dresses for any husky goat herder who had a horn under his shirt and no brown or broken teeth!!

 

No, I really wasn't like that!! Just so you know...that's why I was chosen above all others of the girls I grew up with, but it doesn't matter now....and probably never did.

 

So...umm....I'd suppose you'd say I was kind a "nun" of sorts, though, if I had been able to wear all the frumpy head gear that the vestals of that Nazarene got to wear I might not be in this...umm....pickle?? Is that the expression?? What IS a pickle anyway?? I've never seen one...is it like a pomegranate? Come to think of it, I haven't seen much of anything.

 

He was a God amongst Men...and I do mean that literally. He stood well over 7 staffs high...err...feet?? That's your thing now right...Feet?? Yes, 7 feet. Very hairy chested, and as you kids say today...ripped?? 'Course the last issue of Seventeen magazine that I saw was dated in the new calendar year July of 1,999, so I may be a bit behind the times on your...uhh..."slang?" A muscular hairy Greek Alpha male with a billy goat long beard, as was fashionable in those days....oh and by the way, THAT was about a staff long too....yes a foot! I have never seen one of those awful man horn things since, and I hope to NEVER see one again!! Well...maybe.

 

He couldn't keep his eyes off me. Not many could, so THAT didn't surprise me. Truth is, I might've liked the way he looked IF he weren't an old dirt bag...and a psychotic!! They're ALL psychotics don't you know, every last one of them, horny Alpha male Greek psychotics who demand we all bow down to them!! They sit up in their ivory temples high on the mountaintop and judge us....and rob us! I'd have to say, the world became a MUCH nicer place when you  decided to ignore those infantile jizzumed up egomaniacs once and for all....that pale Nazarene fellow who got himself murdered on a tree was much better...or that fat gold smiling baby I see always sitting with his legs crossed in faded travel brochures that the tourists leave...whatever his name is? Or perhaps you're not kneeling at the feet of anyone anymore? I don't know.

 

I don't have the luxury to not believe in anything now, and I definitely had no such luxury then either, I had no choice, about any of it. I know they're real. I see it when I look down at my cracked pale hands. I see it in my hair that's uh...always on the go. I see it in my nightmares and I see it in my memories of my past. Hm, I don't know why I called those two different things, for my nightmares and my memories really are interchangeable.

 

Oh I don't want to talk about it...I don't...I really don't....but..b-but I've got to say it at some point. I've avoided telling anyone, even myself, as if by somehow never saying those words aloud, never letting them slip on through my jagged sharp teeth that it somehow will never be real. That it will never claim me...but I know it has...and...and I know that the only way I might ever be free again is if I say something...if I talk to someone...if I finally speak the truth.

 

I...I...I'm a rape victim.

 

That's right...you heard me. I was raped.

 

Excuse me. Yes...yes I'm crying, as I'm sure you understand, though, you've probably never met a woman before who has to carefully check where every teardrop from her...from her cheeks lands. I have to catch them...even my tears are deadly...EVEN MY TEARS...have teeth!! I don't want my sadness coming back to bite you.

 

Yes, it was "Big'n'Hairy" He was one of them as I said before...a co-worker of my employer you might say in your own words today...her peer...and...and like I  also said already...he was a lecherous dog...an egomaniac with a monstrous and unforgiving horn. He took me. HE TOOK ME! Right there...right there in the dead of night, in the place where I did my duties. He snuck up behind me and tore me away from the world...he used me for his own wants. It didn't matter that it was not what I wanted. It didn't matter that I needed to stay pure and untouched...it didn't even matter that I was alive. I was nothing to him...NOTHING, but a warm young SHEATH for his vile man horn, HE was up and needed release. It didn't matter that I was barely a woman at the time...he couldn't see me really...he couldn't hear me...he couldn't feel me...not the REAL ME anyway, just a body. But I still feel him, every single night, his hairy oily stink musky sweaty body all over me...smothering me from behind, crushing me, tearing to tatters my once pure white Priestess dress, even shattering much of the gold and silver around my neck. I remember the blood...all the blood...my blood all over me. The red crusty scabby blood pulp in my scalp from all the hair he tore out as he forced me against him, the puss-filled scar from his lion's teeth digging into my shoulder, the gnarled flesh of my broken earlobes as the "sacred" gold rings they once held fell to the floor.

 

 I still remember it all.

 

But the worst bleeding of all was...was...THERE....I could never have fit him, even if I had desired it, but he made me take him. He bluntly plowed and ripped at my tender...my tender place... ruining it...he impaled me...he stabbed me through and through again and again with his flesh...he pummeled me almost to the point of death. Before IT had happened, he once tried to entice me to his bed by claiming that he could make me feel "the motion of his ocean" but he failed to mention that even if I screamed no he'd force it down every opening I possessed and leave me battered from his "Tide." It is no wonder that I HATE the sea now, despite being a Greek girl raised on an island!

 

I hurt...I hurt all over. My teeth even ached with the fear...with shame....my gut churned and rained a never-ending storm of pain and disgust at myself over and over again, and my blood vessels pounded dirges in my ears. From that point on I felt nothing, I heard nothing. All voices were muffled echoes, the world around me blew cold. I wanted to die, I wanted to live, I wanted to breathe, I wanted to hide, I wanted to be clean again and run away from my skin, I wanted to wash it all away, to lose that defiled body, that tattered soul, to scrape it all off...and I didn't know what I wanted, all at the same time.

 

At this of all moments, EVERYTHING was taken from me. Everything and everyone I had ever loved. OR, they betrayed me. My Mother and Father spat upon me and cast me from their lineage. You see in those days, it was a man's world...or...to be more specific, a man's DICK-tatorship! HE was not to blame! It was my evil female nature that SEDUCED HIM in the temple, not that I was a harmless well-meaning young girl TRYING to honour the will of my family and my Mistress,  a girl who was ultimately ambushed! I think I could have used one of those "rape kits" you young ones always talk about. Not that it would have helped me or anything. The tyrants on top of the mountain could even make the truth disappear!

 

My innocence, my beauty, my Humanity even, all gone. My purpose of living stolen. I was not even permitted by my Mistress to go end my life in a pig trough or under the imposing shade of a gnarled old olive tree NO!! I HAD to be made an EXAMPLE of, as if I, a mere mortal girl, could have power over an omnipotent Alpha Male God! You might say in your modern, umm...LINGO is it? You might say I was "permanently reassigned." Yes, to this tiny little island that you now find yourself on. And as part of this "disciplinary action" I was forced to wear this perpetual mask of sorts...to become this THING...this SHE-beast that you've heard so much about, and your parents heard about, and your grandfather, and your great-GREAT-GREAT grandfather's people heard ab-

 

You know, I'm invoking that "Bakers Dozen" thing again. Moving on.

 

 I shut myself off. Why in the name of Hades would I not? It's not as though I had anything PRESSING to live for anymore. So I went quiet, dark, deaf, and dumb for hundreds of years. I mean truly, wouldn't you? If YOU had been viscously raped and unjustly imprisoned for it on an island ALL ALONE for a literal ETENRITY with no one to talk to, no one to care for? No one to care about you or remember who you are?

 

Well, that's not QUITE true. You see, after about the first millennia or so, I began to really make an effort to try again...baby steps...a syllable once a week. Then, letters, then words...and we come to the present century where when it's late enough, and I know that all the tourists are gone, I try shuffling them around, or walk among them...my...my 'Boys."

 

On I haven't told you that part yet, have I? You want to know the REAL kicker of it all? The thing that really, REALLY makes that "board" up on the mountaintop a bunch of truly SICK and TWISTED sadistic macho psychopaths?

 

 I can get you hard.

 

No really, I can. ROCK hard....with just one tiny glance Sirs, and for much longer than six hours.

 

No no, try forever! They decreed that I can't look at ANYTHING that breathes air with my eyes....without turning them or it into a...uhh...statuesque fellow.

 

I even kill bugs dead. You have no IDEA what it's like to have a stone mosquito fall and stick in one of your toes.

 

So over the...uhhh..."Baker's Dozen" of years there have been quite a few..."visitors" to my beautiful little island. The higher-ups don't like me speaking my mind, so it seems I have a kind-of-sort-of MAYBE a price on my once pretty little head. That explains much of the first batch of...umm....what is it you call them nowadays? Lawn Gnomes? Yes, my endless garden collection of Lawn Gnomes. I suppose I really shouldn't feel this way, considering that many of them have come to actually KILL ME, but I still feel kind of guilty about it.

 

Oh, no, not really, not as many as you'd think, at least, not anymore. Now it's mostly poor vacationing  family men, just looking for directions, or taking the wrong turn at the wrong place at the wrong time. They get too close to my tiny little home, and naturally I just go to investigate the noises, or like a silly goat I actually try to be a good person and HELP them find their way home again and then...well....you know!

 

I suppose it's not REALLY my fault, I mean, I didn't actually do anything wrong to be re-made this way...but it bothers me all the same. I feel like I've stolen their lives, spread the same awful egomaniacal poison that has stolen mine. Whenever I can, I try to rummage through their bags and things after...after IT happens, to learn their names, and learn something about the curiosities they bring with them. It took me about 100 years, but I think I've finally ALMOST gotten the hang of using something you call a...a...ca-MER-rah is it? Though it'd help if I could find the shiny stuff on the inside that goes with it more often. You need that stuff to take the photons right? Err...Photo-graphs...yes??

 

I originally started looking through their things just to find out the name...the name of the person that I just turned to a rock. I think it's an absolute necessity to remember someone's name. When I was a girl, a name was everything you were ever going to be in your mortal life uttered in a single breath. It was the most important possession you could ever own. I think I owe...I owe my boys that much, to know who they were, to try and keep something of them alive...wouldn't you agree?

 

 Unfortunately, most don't have their names on them, or they don't tell me...so when that is the case, I give them one! You see that one over by that beautiful yellow flowers? He's Callebus! He had the most shiny helmet I have ever seen, but his face reminded me of a dog, so there you are. "Mr Muscles" guards the entrance to my bedroom, he had the most awe-inspiring physique..a simply GORGEOUS chest and flowing dark hair. He came to me almost naked, just a single bronze spear and cowhide shield...ooooh, if I could but drool I would...wow. But alas, he caught me unawares, and I him, as I was pruning my flower bushes, so now his face is stuck in that gods-awful pose you see today. It took me nearly TWENTY years of hard lifting to get him where he stands now...I somehow pictured it would be easy to move him, silly me, he WAS so VERY muscular in life (*Swoons*). I wish he had shown surprise like a man in a shot-putter stance...THAT would be so much more...uhh... interesting. Yes, interesting...we'll go with that emotion...and...and nothing more!! Ha!

 

And over there by the fountain is a man by the name of Edward Lord Knoxley II. He was some adventurer man who came about 125 years ago to perhaps "smash and grab" is it? Yes, smash and grab what few possessions I have for something called the... British Museum? I wonder where that is...Britishland? Why in the name of the Gods would someone want to snatch away my chamber pot for an inventor's talk shop? How silly!!  He came with this other gentleman who called himself an....Ad-ver-ral....of the Royal Navy I think? I startled them when they were both  talking and taking a leak on my grape vines!! Though, the Adveral left me a curious little contraption made of brass with two glass pieces....I can pull on the small end and the brass stretches out so I can see from long distances things like they were right in front of me...very useful that "Long Eyeball."

 

And then there was Lawrence Sienna or says the light painting photon thing with the words next to it called a... "Dree-vers...uhhh....LICKS-Scence??" that I found next to him in a purse made of hemp. Lawrence is a recent "guest" to my island. He came from across the sea, a land called CALF-or-Rinnia...I...I think...about some 30 or 40 years ago. His hair was long and so was his beard like a Spartan, but unlike a well-groomed man of Lakonia,  his beard and hair smelled like a dead goat who had defiled himself in life with a pig. He wore tunics and sandals of many colours, and was constantly setting fire to sweet-stink smelling leaves that he rolled up into bundles in his mouth...no, no...he said they were a type of grass, my mistake...hmm. In any rate, he said he was looking for the truth and looking to enlighten himself...or so he told my tree with the yellow apples. Why a grown man would talk to a tree with yellow apples I know not. And what was I supposed to do? I AM somewhat Human after all, I heard a human voice, so naturally I turned to see who it was and then...SSSHIIIT!!

 

I HATE when that happens!

 

On the positive side though, he left me this pair of purple glass windows that you can wear on your ears and over your eyes. It works WONDERS for stopping my...uhh....my...unique glare. For the first time in thousands of years, I can actually look at someone without killing them. Well, when I have time to prepare for "company" anyway!

 

So that's what I do at night, I arrange some of these "Boys" around in a little circle outside my front door and we have our little gab sessions...OKAY I DO MOST OF THE TALKING.... okay, OOOKAAAAY ALL the talking...but what's the difference??

 

Who knows, if they had the chance to get to know me, they might've even liked me..heh. I ask things of them like, "Well my dear friend Lawrence, how were the birds today? did any of them shit on your head? How are the golden apples this morning? Any new gossip from the apples?"[/b]

 

Or "Mr. Muscles, didn't you look just so dashing this afternoon at sunset...we need to find you a lady friend Mr. Muscles...but I think women are much too smart to stumble onto here..."

 

I even give them baths...it's fun.  ( *Snort!* )

 

If you're a smart one, you've probably figured out my name by now without me having to tell you. And if you're both smart and have a great memory, you'll remember that story about me that your parents and teachers tried to make you memorize when you were in school, and if you're smart, have a great memory, and are a curious little fox you're wondering how in the name of Hades I'm still talking to you if the story is....

 

Well...BUH-UHH....no!! I mean DUHH!! That's it...Duhh.

 

They're called MYTHS for a reason. Though, I think the people of your times would have a much more COLOURFUL expression to describe it....involving the homemade smelly...ummm...OFFERINGS of bulls.

 

For the first time in thousands of years, I think I'll tell the REAL story....the true story of what happened. Oh don't worry, I promise you it'll be the short version.

 

Oh of course, that famous hero guy you heard about really did make it to my island...and he really did use a mirror as a shield.... though I invented that... shtick is it? Yes, shtick for myself LOOONG before he showed up and got the credit! DUUUH, why do you think there's all these pools of water and fountains around everywhere? And how the marble gets so shiny?

 

You see, what THEY never told you was, that I saw him first....in the marble reflection on the wall...and THEN he saw me. I could have dropped him if I had wished it...but I never have wished it, to make anyone dead, and that's the point.

 

I did what any normal CIVILIZED human being would do...okay, yes, they'd of first said, "Who the Hades are you and how'd you get in my house??" but,  it's ME we're talking about here, so the reason was kind of obvious.

 

No, I said  "Hello."

 

Yes, "Hello."  (I don't know how I managed to even say it, but I did.)

 

But what was even stranger was, what he did, HE said "Hello" back to me. Yes, that's right, a Greek Alpha Male Warrior PUP, there for the purpose of murdering me and CUTTING MY HEAD OFF....just gently and quietly said hello right back....and then he saw me in his shield...

 

And then he did the strangest thing that ANY sent murderer "hero" looking to make a name for himself has EVER done....he....he shed a tear for me! He cried a little drop of pity or two or a "Baker's Dozen" of them...for the "monster" in the room.

 

Oh I KNOW I saw it. It was our angles you see. I could see his reflection. (A most handsome VERY young fellow of those times I might add) and somehow in that same instance, he could see mine. The first man who had seen my face and not gone "Lawn-Gnomey" in centuries.

 

Of course I had to ask him why he'd weep for a horrible monster...why me? I'd think he'd owe me that much before he killed me at least...he's the one with the sword and shield thingy after all.

 

But he just managed to say as I saw the last of his tears roll down his cheeks, " I don't know why...but...but you're not what I expected...and I know now...now that I've seen you....I can't kill you...."

 

So next...would you believe....we talked?? For more than an hour?? Just like that??

 

Yes, that's right, we just....talked. Actually, HE did most of the talking, and I listened. Turns out, he was a lost little Greek boy in a man's body who missed his Mommy....who knew? I gave him advice on how to get the "guy" his mother was "dating" out of the way and he left and went on to found the metropolis of Mycenae...thanks in part to MY advice. But you'll never get THAT in your school books!!

 

School books rarely tell the whole truth anyway!

 

And then there is that horrible brood up on the mountaintop...THAT REAL ending to the story wasn't....how do you say it? JUICY enough for them...didn't suit their tastes. Can't go ONE "mythological" story without some poor undeserving person turned into a hideous freak and then getting something cut off or hacked to bits!!

 

The ugly girl shouldn't get to live in their world...she should be justly (unjustly) slain...and as quickly as possible!! Pbbb!

 

I'm tired of standing like this...with my back to you...I think I'll turn around now, since you've been good for awhile. Oh DON'T WORRY, I know how to control IT...you'll be safe as long as I close my eyes....just keep your head down until I tell you it's safe to....you ready? Okay...here I come....wait....wait....okay NOW you can lift your head up again.

 

Oh, I'm actually quite practiced at doing things with my eyes closed...these disgusting over-sized black pools of death. I...I think I rather prefer it this way. There are times I can even go a whole hour or two...or even cook a meal for myself....all with my eyes closed. It gives me a respite you know, a chance, to see me and the world the way I want to see it. Sometimes, when I can hear the fountain just outside the door babbling in the morning, I'll close my eyes and just start walking...I've taken the trip so many times  that I know the distance by heart...and then I bend down, and I take a "look" in the water....and sometimes...every so often...I see myself again....I see that beautiful innocent face I was born with.

 

I miss her terribly.

 

Take a good look at this face. Am I really so ugly? Am I really so terrible? The sum of all your ancient fears and nightmares? Can't you see me? Please, please, I just want someone to see me again....just...just one more time...to come away with me...even if it's just for a moment... and REALLY know who I am.

 

I'm not REALLY the evil monster who guards the treasure.....I'm the "damsel in distress" who longs, so very deeply longs, to be rescued, and to be seen as the treasure.

 

I have so much to offer....lifetimes of work on plants, and cooking, and singing songs of my youth. I really do have a BEAUTIFUL voice! All I want is just the one chance....just a single chance...to prove to someone special what's in my heart...what's in my mind...what's in my soul. I want to put my arms around the whole world...and welcome them to me...even though.... I've never been loved by anyone. Though, I'd even settle for a friend.

 

 I sometimes think, like the silly-hearted innocent village girl I once was, like some dreamer, that if by chance I could meet someone, some brave, strong, kind-hearted man, and he could somehow love me....and kiss me....I've never even been KISSED....I sometimes think "Miss Ugly" would crackle away...and I could open my eyes again...MY REAL EYES! Not the ones THEY gave me!! That I could look him full in the face.

 

That the spell would be broken.

 

I refuse to give up...I refuse to quit believing in who I REALLY am...I refuse to let THEM and that RAPIST BASTARD define me! I REFUSE to submit, to accept this monstrous shell on the outside as me...for I know who I was and who I STILL am. I am not a monster...I am not the unknowable, unlovable woman. I am a good, beautiful, true, and faithful young old woman....I am eternal hope. So, I'll keep hoping.

 

I think I hear the sound of your rescue boat coming....and it's time for me to head back up to my " EVIL lair" and to bed. Here's to tonight...that we'll BOTH get to dream the peaceful hopeful dreams that are in our hearts...

 

As a rather new song I heard once goes....

 

...Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name....

 

 

A safe journey to you traveler. A safe journey...

Caption: Still Flying...

FIRE ON THE FOURTH

Flashes of light

Like splatters of paint against a night sky

Ripples upon the surface of the fluid

That is the air that is space that is time itself

Manmade explosions soaring up, and then skipping across

The infinite pond that is infinity, like a stone

A moment’s praise, a shade of red, blue, and green glimmer

Just a moment’s flash in the pan

And then it disappears, absorbed into the fabric

But the smoke still lingers

Long after the shining Technicolor star

Has breathed its last

The scent of its life sails high on the wind

Even after it has expired, its legacy remains

Like many others that have darted the irises of Americans

This year, last year, twenty, fifty, a hundred, back, back to 1776

Back to the first generation of our tribe

Who saw this display

And we see that same bright flash that all others have

As well as their bright future, their dreams, our dreams

Their hopes, our hopes, for we are them

And they are us

For one night of fire

Past and present stand in union, we commune with our ancestors

In a bright, awe inspiring flash we mark our beginning

And in that same explosion we see what will inevitably be our end

But it matters not

For beginning and end are well made

And equally

Beautiful