SummerMorning
ah...
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Urh...Mao returns from his hermetically sealed coffin and rapes GWB with a steering wheel before him an enema using the ashes of...no...the pain...
The Challenge Club
- Thread starter Dingus Guy
- Start date
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
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Doosy, Doozey, Doosie, Doozie...
First off, a very Happy New Year to you too! Doosy, no matter how it is spelled is just slang. Like whopper or hell-of-a(helluva) it just means the same thing, it is one big darn difficult challenge.
On another Note, welcome back to the fold Wills. Can't wait to read your Part 3 to your story. I hope you can get the challenge done in 3 days that you will have left. If not, there is always the one afterwards. I think it should be you who makes that one up, so you got a week to think about it.
Black Tulip said:Dingus,
What does "doosy" means? Easy? Not to my bubbly filled brain.
Oh, yes, Happy New Year.
First off, a very Happy New Year to you too! Doosy, no matter how it is spelled is just slang. Like whopper or hell-of-a(helluva) it just means the same thing, it is one big darn difficult challenge.
On another Note, welcome back to the fold Wills. Can't wait to read your Part 3 to your story. I hope you can get the challenge done in 3 days that you will have left. If not, there is always the one afterwards. I think it should be you who makes that one up, so you got a week to think about it.
SummerMorning
ah...
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Mmm...on the myths. I mentioned vampires because I didn't want the coffin to be too easy, so I suppose it goes for zombies, ghouls, revenants and other things returning from the grave as well...I couldn't really get me thoughts straight w all the bubbly 
Hmm...my story will be a bit long. Should be ready in two hours or so...
It was a bit later - comments on the story please. Should I submit it to Lit?
Hmm...my story will be a bit long. Should be ready in two hours or so...
It was a bit later - comments on the story please. Should I submit it to Lit?
Last edited:
SummerMorning
ah...
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I apologise - the story is actually about 4000 words and it took five hours - but here it is. By the way, part of the story takes place in and near a real world city - anybody know which one?
Tempus fugit
"Shakulu, the mountains! Tonight the Spice Palace of Makkon beckons!" the voice seemed to reverberate in the empty steppe and swirl in the constant breeze.
"Heron Gardens is close. But it has been long years, time passes," the second voice sounded pensive and the creaking of the old polished wagon was the only sound for a while. A robed man sat cross-legged at the front, guiding it with gentle touches to wagon's controls that controlled the fleshmechanic creature.
The intricately carved and worked wagon shivered slightly, as though laughing. "You men, always so full of your problems! Shakulu, lighten up! Time passes, good! She's probably gone after all these years anyway!"
"Wagon...not now. I'm remembering."
"Right...you're fondling my controls, you know. It's the Spice Palace for you and no mistake, you need some soma and a good girl, or two, or three!" the wagon floated serenely on towards the mountains, hovering slightly above the ground. Shakulu sighed and focused on the patch of green that marked the oasis of Heron Gardens.
---
Outside the window the city seemed to smoke and sizzle. Paperboys shouted the latest news; old women hawked their vegetables at the markets and ships' horns sounded out in the harbour. The little room seemed overstuffed, full of papers and books, a leather sofa and an unmade bed. A delicate, black-haired girl lay on the bed naked, gently caressing herself as she read a book. Every now and again she would grin mischievously at a young man typing away with gusto on an old and cranky typewriter.
The man groaned and pulled another paper out of the machine, crumpling it up and lobbing it theatrically towards the overflowing trashcan. He missed, hitting the girl instead. She smiled and put down the book to saunter over to him.
"Poor dear, your piece de resistance not going well?" she asked as she massaged his shoulders through his thin cotton shirt. He just groaned again and buried his head in his arms.
"Honey, lets go to the seaside. The sun's out, summer's arrived. It's a wonderful morning," the girl slid her hands inside his shirt, scratching his chest playfully as she lightly breathed in his ear and kissed the nape of his neck.
"Fine...I can't write a word that makes sense. My head feels like it's going to burst, but I can't get the words out..." he muttered, "...where do you want to go, Kali?"
"Mmm...Lokrum sounds nice...I loved it the other time, when you ate bitter chocolate out of my..." Kali laughed then, tousling his long, blonde hair as she moved to the closet and started getting dressed.
"Well, you know I like my chocolate like I like my girls, bittersweet."
"You think I'm bitter?"
"Nah...You’re an exception, I'd say you're more the biter-sweet sort," he chuckled as he stood up and stretched, popping his stiff joints.
"Mare!" Kali threw a pair of panties at him in his mock disgust, even as she started laughing again.
Tempus fugit
"Shakulu, the mountains! Tonight the Spice Palace of Makkon beckons!" the voice seemed to reverberate in the empty steppe and swirl in the constant breeze.
"Heron Gardens is close. But it has been long years, time passes," the second voice sounded pensive and the creaking of the old polished wagon was the only sound for a while. A robed man sat cross-legged at the front, guiding it with gentle touches to wagon's controls that controlled the fleshmechanic creature.
The intricately carved and worked wagon shivered slightly, as though laughing. "You men, always so full of your problems! Shakulu, lighten up! Time passes, good! She's probably gone after all these years anyway!"
"Wagon...not now. I'm remembering."
"Right...you're fondling my controls, you know. It's the Spice Palace for you and no mistake, you need some soma and a good girl, or two, or three!" the wagon floated serenely on towards the mountains, hovering slightly above the ground. Shakulu sighed and focused on the patch of green that marked the oasis of Heron Gardens.
---
Outside the window the city seemed to smoke and sizzle. Paperboys shouted the latest news; old women hawked their vegetables at the markets and ships' horns sounded out in the harbour. The little room seemed overstuffed, full of papers and books, a leather sofa and an unmade bed. A delicate, black-haired girl lay on the bed naked, gently caressing herself as she read a book. Every now and again she would grin mischievously at a young man typing away with gusto on an old and cranky typewriter.
The man groaned and pulled another paper out of the machine, crumpling it up and lobbing it theatrically towards the overflowing trashcan. He missed, hitting the girl instead. She smiled and put down the book to saunter over to him.
"Poor dear, your piece de resistance not going well?" she asked as she massaged his shoulders through his thin cotton shirt. He just groaned again and buried his head in his arms.
"Honey, lets go to the seaside. The sun's out, summer's arrived. It's a wonderful morning," the girl slid her hands inside his shirt, scratching his chest playfully as she lightly breathed in his ear and kissed the nape of his neck.
"Fine...I can't write a word that makes sense. My head feels like it's going to burst, but I can't get the words out..." he muttered, "...where do you want to go, Kali?"
"Mmm...Lokrum sounds nice...I loved it the other time, when you ate bitter chocolate out of my..." Kali laughed then, tousling his long, blonde hair as she moved to the closet and started getting dressed.
"Well, you know I like my chocolate like I like my girls, bittersweet."
"You think I'm bitter?"
"Nah...You’re an exception, I'd say you're more the biter-sweet sort," he chuckled as he stood up and stretched, popping his stiff joints.
"Mare!" Kali threw a pair of panties at him in his mock disgust, even as she started laughing again.
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SummerMorning
ah...
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Shakulu shook his head as he strode along the darkening street. Wagon was smart, smarter than most regular fleshmechs. It was strange that Wagon had never asked for a different body, the Sculptors could have grown him into a human in just a year or two and with what they earned being split two ways he could sure afford it.
He stopped in front of the ebony doors of the Spice Palace and had to smile. Wagon had been right; it would be good to relax a bit. The storytelling would be good here; they appreciated his talents for mood and atmosphere. Besides the Days of Iron Moons were coming, so there would be many pilgrims seeking his gifts.
Shakulu gave the door two polished bone coins and it opened with a demure, "Welcome, good sir. Makkon will be pleased to see you."
"Thanks," he said to the door and went inside. The Spice Palace was tastefully decorated with sparse, minimalist furnishing. Wood and leather recliners were arranged around stone tables in small alcoves. Numerous spice bowls glowed in the reddish light and he could see several late night customers dreaming in the hands of Makkon's pets.
He strode down the familiar hallway towards Makkon, smiling politely at the pets and people he met along the way. At the door he stopped nervously, it was twelve years. Hopefully Makkon's relationship with her hadn't changed in that time.
"Teller! You've returned!" boomed Makkon's jovial voice and with something like relief he turned around to face Makkon. Makkon hugged him tightly, her slim, black body looking stunning in a clinging red silk dress that seemed almost translucent, "Come, the pets will be absolutely delighted!"
---
Kali looked absolutely stunning in the front of the little motorboat as Mare untied the mooring ropes and jumped in. The boat rocked and he nearly lost his balance, causing her to laugh again. Huffing slightly he proceeded to tank up the offboard and start it up.
Soon the massive medieval walls of the seaside city were slipping past as they headed out of the harbour. A light breeze raised slight goose bumps on their skin and the spray was delightfully salty and fresh.
"Mmm..." she murmured as she hugged Mare, "You look like you're making love to her."
He grinned and ran his hand over the walnut steering wheel, "Kali, don't tell me you're jealous?"
"The typewriter back in the apartment, the boat now...honestly, Mare, you're just like a little boy with his toys. Makes me wish I was a little toy, the way you treat them."
"Baby, you like the way I treat you!"
Playfully she pushed him forward, until his hips were resting lightly on the wheel. Her hands gripped his taut buttocks and squeezed, leaving a salty stain on his beige trousers. Kali snickered as he struggled to regain his composure. It was May and the cruise ships hadn't arrived yet, even though summer was already here. Nevertheless a couple of fishermen shouted catcalls at them as they went past.
They continued past the two stone piers where the tourists stopped and continued towards the south end of the island, where the bleached rocks created several tiny hidden beaches. Mare dropped the anchor and rounded on her, "You’ve been a naughty little girl, haven't you?"
"Who, me? No...I've been good, but you look like the big bad wolf, with that gun in your pocket!"
"Nobody to see it here," he said, kissing her lightly. She returned his kiss and wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders. Their tongues touched briefly, as they caressed each other slowly.
"Mmm...That’s true," her left hand slid into her pocket and squeezed his erect cock slightly.
"You're asking for it, baby,"
"Asking for what? I'm just an innocent little girl," she said, batting her eyelashes softly. Mare grabbed her and lifted her until she was sitting on the steering wheel, her white skirt raised around her shapely, lightly tanned thighs.
"You packed the wine glasses?" his hand ran gently up her smooth skin, teasing the edge of her white bathing suit.
"Yeah, you know I did..." she replied, unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands through the light down on his chest. As her hands coursed down towards his trousers he breathed roughly, before laughing.
"Good, then since you've taken care of that I think a little reward might be in order."
"A reward..." Kali purred, licking her lips with her soft pink tongue. He gently hooked his thumbs behind the straps on her swimsuit and pulled it down, revealing her waxed pussy and the dark, trimmed landing strip leading to it. Mare left the swimsuit around her ankles, restricting her movements as he leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth again. His hand stroked her gently, caressing her soft labia with soft, slow strokes.
Kali returned the kiss, arching her back with delight, while he continued to play with her sex. She undid the buttons on her white blouse, revealing her dainty white string bikini. Mare was trailed kisses towards her left breast, when she suddenly twisted and pushed him to one side. He shouted in surprise as he tried to catch his balance, but another push from her tumbled him over the side into the cool azure Adriatic waters. Kali laughed, quickly pulling on her bikini bottom and jumping into the water on the other side.
"See you on the shore, Mare!" she cried out to him before turning to swim with powerful strokes towards the shore.
"Kali! I swear you're the devil's own bitch!" Mare yelled ruefully. He clambered back into the boat, hid the keys and took the waterproof hamper. Once he'd stripped down to his black swimming trunks he followed with the hamper, grumbling to himself. As he staggered up the pebbly beach she laughed at him from the top of a flat rock.
"My poor, poor Neptune! Where's your trident, hmm?"
"You little devil! I'll show you where my trident is!" he said, dropping the hamper and sprinting towards her. Kali jumped off the rock and was off, laughing at him.
"I see the cold water's done wonders for you! More blood for your brain, maybe you'll write something now!"
"You!" he shouted and pounced on her. They tumbled in the shallow water, laughing and ending in a slow, salty kiss. Her hand slipped into his trunks, massaging him slowly. Mare groaned slightly and pressed her close, his fingers quickly and expertly undoing her top. Her breasts were small, but perfectly shaped with light brown nipples. He licked one erect nipple and felt it harden even more as he teased it slowly. Kali sighed happily, while her other hand tugged down his trunks.
"We can't have you getting a white bottom this year, Mare," she whispered in his ear, "I prefer my buttocks crisp and golden."
Mare nodded silently, still kissing her round breasts. He picked her up and carried her to the shallow water, with the surf breaking around them. With her free hand she tossed his trunks and her top onto the beach, while continuing to explore his body with her other one. His erect penis pressed against her swimsuit, stretching it, trying to enter her despite the thin white fabric.
Kali took hold of him and rolled him onto his back, straddling him. She gave him another long, slow kiss, while he pulled her swimsuit off until she was as naked as him. Gently she rubbed herself on Mare's long, stiff cock. His buttocks clenched with the pleasure and it was all he could do to resist ramming her wettening pussy there and then. His hands gripped her round, tight ass spreading her so the cool spray made her shudder with shock as it hit her naked pussy.
Slowly she slid down on him, enveloping him with her tight, wet pussy. They moaned together as she began to ride him, slowly and sensuously. Time seemed to compress into a single now. The morning sunlight glittered and refracted from the water, sliding sinuously over them, keeping time to their movements.
He stopped in front of the ebony doors of the Spice Palace and had to smile. Wagon had been right; it would be good to relax a bit. The storytelling would be good here; they appreciated his talents for mood and atmosphere. Besides the Days of Iron Moons were coming, so there would be many pilgrims seeking his gifts.
Shakulu gave the door two polished bone coins and it opened with a demure, "Welcome, good sir. Makkon will be pleased to see you."
"Thanks," he said to the door and went inside. The Spice Palace was tastefully decorated with sparse, minimalist furnishing. Wood and leather recliners were arranged around stone tables in small alcoves. Numerous spice bowls glowed in the reddish light and he could see several late night customers dreaming in the hands of Makkon's pets.
He strode down the familiar hallway towards Makkon, smiling politely at the pets and people he met along the way. At the door he stopped nervously, it was twelve years. Hopefully Makkon's relationship with her hadn't changed in that time.
"Teller! You've returned!" boomed Makkon's jovial voice and with something like relief he turned around to face Makkon. Makkon hugged him tightly, her slim, black body looking stunning in a clinging red silk dress that seemed almost translucent, "Come, the pets will be absolutely delighted!"
---
Kali looked absolutely stunning in the front of the little motorboat as Mare untied the mooring ropes and jumped in. The boat rocked and he nearly lost his balance, causing her to laugh again. Huffing slightly he proceeded to tank up the offboard and start it up.
Soon the massive medieval walls of the seaside city were slipping past as they headed out of the harbour. A light breeze raised slight goose bumps on their skin and the spray was delightfully salty and fresh.
"Mmm..." she murmured as she hugged Mare, "You look like you're making love to her."
He grinned and ran his hand over the walnut steering wheel, "Kali, don't tell me you're jealous?"
"The typewriter back in the apartment, the boat now...honestly, Mare, you're just like a little boy with his toys. Makes me wish I was a little toy, the way you treat them."
"Baby, you like the way I treat you!"
Playfully she pushed him forward, until his hips were resting lightly on the wheel. Her hands gripped his taut buttocks and squeezed, leaving a salty stain on his beige trousers. Kali snickered as he struggled to regain his composure. It was May and the cruise ships hadn't arrived yet, even though summer was already here. Nevertheless a couple of fishermen shouted catcalls at them as they went past.
They continued past the two stone piers where the tourists stopped and continued towards the south end of the island, where the bleached rocks created several tiny hidden beaches. Mare dropped the anchor and rounded on her, "You’ve been a naughty little girl, haven't you?"
"Who, me? No...I've been good, but you look like the big bad wolf, with that gun in your pocket!"
"Nobody to see it here," he said, kissing her lightly. She returned his kiss and wrapped her arms around his muscular shoulders. Their tongues touched briefly, as they caressed each other slowly.
"Mmm...That’s true," her left hand slid into her pocket and squeezed his erect cock slightly.
"You're asking for it, baby,"
"Asking for what? I'm just an innocent little girl," she said, batting her eyelashes softly. Mare grabbed her and lifted her until she was sitting on the steering wheel, her white skirt raised around her shapely, lightly tanned thighs.
"You packed the wine glasses?" his hand ran gently up her smooth skin, teasing the edge of her white bathing suit.
"Yeah, you know I did..." she replied, unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands through the light down on his chest. As her hands coursed down towards his trousers he breathed roughly, before laughing.
"Good, then since you've taken care of that I think a little reward might be in order."
"A reward..." Kali purred, licking her lips with her soft pink tongue. He gently hooked his thumbs behind the straps on her swimsuit and pulled it down, revealing her waxed pussy and the dark, trimmed landing strip leading to it. Mare left the swimsuit around her ankles, restricting her movements as he leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth again. His hand stroked her gently, caressing her soft labia with soft, slow strokes.
Kali returned the kiss, arching her back with delight, while he continued to play with her sex. She undid the buttons on her white blouse, revealing her dainty white string bikini. Mare was trailed kisses towards her left breast, when she suddenly twisted and pushed him to one side. He shouted in surprise as he tried to catch his balance, but another push from her tumbled him over the side into the cool azure Adriatic waters. Kali laughed, quickly pulling on her bikini bottom and jumping into the water on the other side.
"See you on the shore, Mare!" she cried out to him before turning to swim with powerful strokes towards the shore.
"Kali! I swear you're the devil's own bitch!" Mare yelled ruefully. He clambered back into the boat, hid the keys and took the waterproof hamper. Once he'd stripped down to his black swimming trunks he followed with the hamper, grumbling to himself. As he staggered up the pebbly beach she laughed at him from the top of a flat rock.
"My poor, poor Neptune! Where's your trident, hmm?"
"You little devil! I'll show you where my trident is!" he said, dropping the hamper and sprinting towards her. Kali jumped off the rock and was off, laughing at him.
"I see the cold water's done wonders for you! More blood for your brain, maybe you'll write something now!"
"You!" he shouted and pounced on her. They tumbled in the shallow water, laughing and ending in a slow, salty kiss. Her hand slipped into his trunks, massaging him slowly. Mare groaned slightly and pressed her close, his fingers quickly and expertly undoing her top. Her breasts were small, but perfectly shaped with light brown nipples. He licked one erect nipple and felt it harden even more as he teased it slowly. Kali sighed happily, while her other hand tugged down his trunks.
"We can't have you getting a white bottom this year, Mare," she whispered in his ear, "I prefer my buttocks crisp and golden."
Mare nodded silently, still kissing her round breasts. He picked her up and carried her to the shallow water, with the surf breaking around them. With her free hand she tossed his trunks and her top onto the beach, while continuing to explore his body with her other one. His erect penis pressed against her swimsuit, stretching it, trying to enter her despite the thin white fabric.
Kali took hold of him and rolled him onto his back, straddling him. She gave him another long, slow kiss, while he pulled her swimsuit off until she was as naked as him. Gently she rubbed herself on Mare's long, stiff cock. His buttocks clenched with the pleasure and it was all he could do to resist ramming her wettening pussy there and then. His hands gripped her round, tight ass spreading her so the cool spray made her shudder with shock as it hit her naked pussy.
Slowly she slid down on him, enveloping him with her tight, wet pussy. They moaned together as she began to ride him, slowly and sensuously. Time seemed to compress into a single now. The morning sunlight glittered and refracted from the water, sliding sinuously over them, keeping time to their movements.
SummerMorning
ah...
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- Dec 27, 2003
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The sensuous pets with their almost feline forms greeted him with squeals and laughter, hugging him close and licking his face. Shakulu had to laugh, Makkon's taste hadn't changed one bit. He recognised some of them, the others had obviously heard about him.
"Yes, they've heard of you," nodded Makkon, her jade eyes glittering as she read his thoughts, "Who wouldn't have heard of you. Not only one of the best tellers around, but also one of the more scandalous."
"Makkon, you know it wasn't intentional!" Shakulu grinned wryly, and pushed one eager pet trying to get under his robes away. The pet looked slightly hurt, but recovered his composure when Shakulu petted him affectionately on the rump.
"You're the only one saying so," Makkon said with a thin smile, then to the pets, "The lot of you, back to work! I won’t have people saying my Spice Palace is slacking! Ris, you stay."
The pet named Ris was one of the females, she bowed deeply and without waiting for a word from her mistress brought a spice bowl and two fluted wine glasses to the little jet table. Makkon settled gracefully on an ebony recliner and Shakulu took her lead.
"She would have liked this spice bowl, don't you think?" Makkon held the bowl out to him for inspection. He turned it over slightly, feeling the texture. Bone. Thin silver inlays glittered inside the bowl in mesmerising geometric patterns.
"Whose skull was it?" he asked, returning the off-white bowl to the jet table.
"Not hers, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not that evil, wouldn't taunt you like that."
"Are you saying she's dead?"
"No, the coffin's unused," replied the black beauty as she delicately tasted the ruby wine Ris had just poured.
Shakulu had to repress a slight sigh, whether of relief or anxiety he didn't know. Before he could reply Makkon continued, "It's not here though." Shakulu's eyebrows went up, wrinkling his tall forehead.
Makkon raised an elegant, thin hand to his face and ran her long black nails through his beard. His face was hard, abraded like granite by the steppe winds. The travels had left their mark and she wondered if his telling would be the same as in those far of days, when he'd lived in Heron Gardens, not yet a wanderer. He kissed her fingertips gently and looked into her gleaming green eyes.
Her pupils narrowed and she breathed in sharply, his eyes were still that maelstrom of swirling colour that seemed to swallow your soul when you looked into them. She'd never believed his line, that he wasn't a mind-fucker. If nothing else because of those eyes.
"You haven't been with anybody all these years," she said and his eyes seemed to blaze slightly. Makkon shook her smooth head, "acting like a petulant mortal. You're incredible. You know you're not supposed to be in love, you're a teller!"
"I haven't told anything in twelve years."
"Well, drink up the wine. Finest ruby from the On. Uncle's vine," she ordered and he tasted the thick, nectar. It flowed like liquid passion down his throat, coating it, seeming to set his blood on fire.
"I see Uncle hasn't changed his grapes," he laughed, "Very well Makkon, I feel the nightbirds are out and the guests are here. Shall we go and dance and dream?"
"Shakulu, I thought you'd never ask," they rose together and she lifted the spice bowl up between them. She was slightly taller than him and very slender, looking like a birch next to a rugged oak. Their eyes locked and flared slightly and the spice in the bowl simmered, sending its sparkling fumes up into the air. They inhaled deeply, several times, their faces beginning to glow as they ascended into the dreamtime.
Suddenly they were in the large, open dance-hall of the palace. The guests were twirling around and Sat was leading the band in a wild and abandoned symphony. When he saw the mistress enter the music slowed and the musician laughed, showing bright white teeth.
Shakulu held her gently, his nimble fingers running across her slim body as they danced. Slowly at first, seeming to explore one another's body, they turned across the checkerboard floor. As they moved his robes seemed to fall away, leaving him in a simple red shirt and black pants, matching her red silk garment.
"Mmm...You’re still telling as well as you used to," she murmured, her snakelike tongue licking his ear and playing with his neck.
"We shall see," he said and picked up the pace, Sat matching their speed with his silver trumpet. To all the guests their image seemed to flicker and double, they couldn't quite tell whether Makkon and Shakulu were having sex or dancing. Their bodies seemed blurry and indistinct, except for the glow that seemed to suffuse both of them.
Suddenly they fell still, he holding her tight as the last note hung golden in the air. The guests clapped and the two of them slowly disentangled.
"Still only her?" asked Makkon, kissing his lips gently.
"Still. Come, the dream waits."
---
Kali and Mare lay on the beach naked, clothed by the sun. She was eating an apple, each bite crunching between her small, pearly teeth.
"You're looking thoughtful, baby," he said, shielding his eyes from the light as he marvelled at her sensuous body. His eyes traced her slim arms, her small round breasts, and the long mane of black hair that cascaded down her back. Mare stroked her slightly boyish waist and smooth thighs.
"Just wondering you know," she took another bite of the apple, "It's so perfect here. Can it last?"
"The city has lasted quite a while; I think we can as well."
"You and your city!" she laughed throwing the red, half-eaten apple at him. Mare caught it with one hand and grabbed her with the other, pulling her close.
"Kali, baby, you know I can't love you like I love the city," he teased.
"You're horrible; I'm going to have to teach you a lesson!"
"Mmm...Right..." he took a bite of the apple and nearly choked as she suddenly squeezed his flaccid cock, pulling the foreskin back sharply. He looked down and saw his cock's head caught between her white teeth while she grinned wickedly. He swallowed the apple slowly, as she began to lick the tip and the rim.
"You didn't think I would bite, did you?"
"With you, my demoness, one never knows..." his words ended in a gasp as she ran her teeth down the length of his hardening shaft, relishing the feel of him, his vulnerability. She looked up into his sea-grey eyes as she gently licked her index finger while clutching his balls with the other hand. "What are you planning?"
"Just relax. I'm going to teach you a lesson," she said as she slowly licked his salty sack and teased his perineum with her tongue. Suddenly he stiffened as he felt her tongue on his ass, flicking and teasing gently, until it was all he could do to stop himself bucking. Suddenly Mare felt her finger press on his ass and gasped as she pushed in roughly, stretching his sphincter. She began licking his cock roughly, her tongue darting around while she massaged his balls with her free hand. He groaned as she removed her finger and she proceeded to lick his ass, lubricating it with her saliva.
She pressed her fingers back against his ass, pushing three of them in, stretching him roughly. He moaned as she massaged him, running her fingers in and out while she nibbled and licked his cock. Kali enjoyed having him in control, bucking beneath her hands. She could feel him tensing, his muscles twitching. She stopped suddenly, looking up into his eyes. Her black eyes sparkled mischievously.
"You like it, don't you?" she asked. Mare managed to nod somehow, "Well, so do I...but you're not getting off this easily. I just wanted you to know what I'm going to do to you tonight, now you have to pleasure me, honey!"
She pulled him to her and kissed him roughly, he smiled and turned her over. She wriggled her bottom playfully as he kissed her wet pussy, smearing her juices over his face. Mare spluttered and looked at her, pretending to be angry.
"Ok. Baby. Now you're going to get it!" he jumped on her, lifting her into the air. She whooped and kicked the air, but he was too strong for her and carried her easily to a pile of ash left over from the 1st May bonfire. She screamed and tried to hit him, but he dumped her unceremoniously into the ash, lifting a grey cloud.
"You..." she didn't have time for words as he jumped on top of her, the soft grey-white flakes like a pillow beneath them, sticking to their wet, sticky skin. Mare kissed her gently and she curled her legs around his flanks, guiding him into her gently. The ash got in their hair as they rocked back and forth, her panting getting more and more needy.
Suddenly he pulled out, causing her to start. Kali's eyes narrowed as he licked his fingers.
"You wouldn't," she said trying to get up, but he quickly pressed her down with his body, pinning her. He gently massaged her asshole, lubricating it with spit. She started to relax, but suddenly stiffened again, as he pressed his cock to her ass, stretching it.
"Fair is fair, Kali," he explained
"I used three fingers, you lummox! Are you trying to rip me in half?" she spluttered, but her smile gave her away. She lifted her legs up and relaxed as he slid softly and slowly into her ass. Kali moaned slightly as he filled her up, stretching her. Mare began to move slowly in and out, and she began to finger herself. The intensity of the feeling, the soft pillows of ash beneath them, and the sea breeze all came together. She could barely think from the pleasure that was coursing through her, squeezing Mare's cock with her ass.
"Yes, they've heard of you," nodded Makkon, her jade eyes glittering as she read his thoughts, "Who wouldn't have heard of you. Not only one of the best tellers around, but also one of the more scandalous."
"Makkon, you know it wasn't intentional!" Shakulu grinned wryly, and pushed one eager pet trying to get under his robes away. The pet looked slightly hurt, but recovered his composure when Shakulu petted him affectionately on the rump.
"You're the only one saying so," Makkon said with a thin smile, then to the pets, "The lot of you, back to work! I won’t have people saying my Spice Palace is slacking! Ris, you stay."
The pet named Ris was one of the females, she bowed deeply and without waiting for a word from her mistress brought a spice bowl and two fluted wine glasses to the little jet table. Makkon settled gracefully on an ebony recliner and Shakulu took her lead.
"She would have liked this spice bowl, don't you think?" Makkon held the bowl out to him for inspection. He turned it over slightly, feeling the texture. Bone. Thin silver inlays glittered inside the bowl in mesmerising geometric patterns.
"Whose skull was it?" he asked, returning the off-white bowl to the jet table.
"Not hers, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not that evil, wouldn't taunt you like that."
"Are you saying she's dead?"
"No, the coffin's unused," replied the black beauty as she delicately tasted the ruby wine Ris had just poured.
Shakulu had to repress a slight sigh, whether of relief or anxiety he didn't know. Before he could reply Makkon continued, "It's not here though." Shakulu's eyebrows went up, wrinkling his tall forehead.
Makkon raised an elegant, thin hand to his face and ran her long black nails through his beard. His face was hard, abraded like granite by the steppe winds. The travels had left their mark and she wondered if his telling would be the same as in those far of days, when he'd lived in Heron Gardens, not yet a wanderer. He kissed her fingertips gently and looked into her gleaming green eyes.
Her pupils narrowed and she breathed in sharply, his eyes were still that maelstrom of swirling colour that seemed to swallow your soul when you looked into them. She'd never believed his line, that he wasn't a mind-fucker. If nothing else because of those eyes.
"You haven't been with anybody all these years," she said and his eyes seemed to blaze slightly. Makkon shook her smooth head, "acting like a petulant mortal. You're incredible. You know you're not supposed to be in love, you're a teller!"
"I haven't told anything in twelve years."
"Well, drink up the wine. Finest ruby from the On. Uncle's vine," she ordered and he tasted the thick, nectar. It flowed like liquid passion down his throat, coating it, seeming to set his blood on fire.
"I see Uncle hasn't changed his grapes," he laughed, "Very well Makkon, I feel the nightbirds are out and the guests are here. Shall we go and dance and dream?"
"Shakulu, I thought you'd never ask," they rose together and she lifted the spice bowl up between them. She was slightly taller than him and very slender, looking like a birch next to a rugged oak. Their eyes locked and flared slightly and the spice in the bowl simmered, sending its sparkling fumes up into the air. They inhaled deeply, several times, their faces beginning to glow as they ascended into the dreamtime.
Suddenly they were in the large, open dance-hall of the palace. The guests were twirling around and Sat was leading the band in a wild and abandoned symphony. When he saw the mistress enter the music slowed and the musician laughed, showing bright white teeth.
Shakulu held her gently, his nimble fingers running across her slim body as they danced. Slowly at first, seeming to explore one another's body, they turned across the checkerboard floor. As they moved his robes seemed to fall away, leaving him in a simple red shirt and black pants, matching her red silk garment.
"Mmm...You’re still telling as well as you used to," she murmured, her snakelike tongue licking his ear and playing with his neck.
"We shall see," he said and picked up the pace, Sat matching their speed with his silver trumpet. To all the guests their image seemed to flicker and double, they couldn't quite tell whether Makkon and Shakulu were having sex or dancing. Their bodies seemed blurry and indistinct, except for the glow that seemed to suffuse both of them.
Suddenly they fell still, he holding her tight as the last note hung golden in the air. The guests clapped and the two of them slowly disentangled.
"Still only her?" asked Makkon, kissing his lips gently.
"Still. Come, the dream waits."
---
Kali and Mare lay on the beach naked, clothed by the sun. She was eating an apple, each bite crunching between her small, pearly teeth.
"You're looking thoughtful, baby," he said, shielding his eyes from the light as he marvelled at her sensuous body. His eyes traced her slim arms, her small round breasts, and the long mane of black hair that cascaded down her back. Mare stroked her slightly boyish waist and smooth thighs.
"Just wondering you know," she took another bite of the apple, "It's so perfect here. Can it last?"
"The city has lasted quite a while; I think we can as well."
"You and your city!" she laughed throwing the red, half-eaten apple at him. Mare caught it with one hand and grabbed her with the other, pulling her close.
"Kali, baby, you know I can't love you like I love the city," he teased.
"You're horrible; I'm going to have to teach you a lesson!"
"Mmm...Right..." he took a bite of the apple and nearly choked as she suddenly squeezed his flaccid cock, pulling the foreskin back sharply. He looked down and saw his cock's head caught between her white teeth while she grinned wickedly. He swallowed the apple slowly, as she began to lick the tip and the rim.
"You didn't think I would bite, did you?"
"With you, my demoness, one never knows..." his words ended in a gasp as she ran her teeth down the length of his hardening shaft, relishing the feel of him, his vulnerability. She looked up into his sea-grey eyes as she gently licked her index finger while clutching his balls with the other hand. "What are you planning?"
"Just relax. I'm going to teach you a lesson," she said as she slowly licked his salty sack and teased his perineum with her tongue. Suddenly he stiffened as he felt her tongue on his ass, flicking and teasing gently, until it was all he could do to stop himself bucking. Suddenly Mare felt her finger press on his ass and gasped as she pushed in roughly, stretching his sphincter. She began licking his cock roughly, her tongue darting around while she massaged his balls with her free hand. He groaned as she removed her finger and she proceeded to lick his ass, lubricating it with her saliva.
She pressed her fingers back against his ass, pushing three of them in, stretching him roughly. He moaned as she massaged him, running her fingers in and out while she nibbled and licked his cock. Kali enjoyed having him in control, bucking beneath her hands. She could feel him tensing, his muscles twitching. She stopped suddenly, looking up into his eyes. Her black eyes sparkled mischievously.
"You like it, don't you?" she asked. Mare managed to nod somehow, "Well, so do I...but you're not getting off this easily. I just wanted you to know what I'm going to do to you tonight, now you have to pleasure me, honey!"
She pulled him to her and kissed him roughly, he smiled and turned her over. She wriggled her bottom playfully as he kissed her wet pussy, smearing her juices over his face. Mare spluttered and looked at her, pretending to be angry.
"Ok. Baby. Now you're going to get it!" he jumped on her, lifting her into the air. She whooped and kicked the air, but he was too strong for her and carried her easily to a pile of ash left over from the 1st May bonfire. She screamed and tried to hit him, but he dumped her unceremoniously into the ash, lifting a grey cloud.
"You..." she didn't have time for words as he jumped on top of her, the soft grey-white flakes like a pillow beneath them, sticking to their wet, sticky skin. Mare kissed her gently and she curled her legs around his flanks, guiding him into her gently. The ash got in their hair as they rocked back and forth, her panting getting more and more needy.
Suddenly he pulled out, causing her to start. Kali's eyes narrowed as he licked his fingers.
"You wouldn't," she said trying to get up, but he quickly pressed her down with his body, pinning her. He gently massaged her asshole, lubricating it with spit. She started to relax, but suddenly stiffened again, as he pressed his cock to her ass, stretching it.
"Fair is fair, Kali," he explained
"I used three fingers, you lummox! Are you trying to rip me in half?" she spluttered, but her smile gave her away. She lifted her legs up and relaxed as he slid softly and slowly into her ass. Kali moaned slightly as he filled her up, stretching her. Mare began to move slowly in and out, and she began to finger herself. The intensity of the feeling, the soft pillows of ash beneath them, and the sea breeze all came together. She could barely think from the pleasure that was coursing through her, squeezing Mare's cock with her ass.
SummerMorning
ah...
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2003
- Posts
- 1,986
Shakulu's eyes suddenly flickered open and the room spun about him. He got up reeling and looked around the supine figures in a shock, shivering.
"Makkon!" he shouted, staggering about disoriented, the spice smoke irritating his eyes. He stumbled out into the corridor and a few pets looked at him surprised, "Where is Makkon? You! Ris! Where is she?"
Ris smiled uncertainly and took him by the hand, but he brushed her off roughly. Moving on down the dusky wood panelled hallway. Suddenly he felt strong hands on his shoulders and he turned to find himself face to face with Makkon.
"What was that? What the hell was that?" he was wide eyed and breathing shallowly as swabbed his brow with a wet cloth. She escorted him silently towards the ebony door, "Where are you taking me? You can't kick me out without an explanation!"
"Shh, be silent." she replied, almost carrying him along. She was incredibly strong and weakened as he was he couldn’t resist her. The door opened as they approached and he saw his wagon resting on the ground, there was a bloody rent in its side. His mind reeled as he tried to make sense of what he saw.
Shakulu peered into the fleshy gouge torn in his wagon and suddenly recoiled. There, in the heart of his wagon was a silver and brass casket, still half-full of bluish jelly.
"Ether jelly," he muttered to himself, "Ether jelly!"
With a snarl he rounded on Makkon, "You knew!"
"Yes," she nodded
"Where is she?" he roared, his hair seeming to crackle and sparkle.
"Leave her alone, you old Coyote!" sounded a hauntingly familiar voice from the door. Shakulu turned and there stood Kali, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe, her hair still wet from the preservative ether jelly. She laughed as he stared at her, “You really thought I'd let you go wandering around all on your own? You silly little boy!"
"How did you hijack my telling?" he asked.
"Hijack? Oh, come off it! Sure, you're one of the best tellers, but I know a bit about dreamtime as well! It never was your telling, it’s ours - you just had a big part."
"I return after twelve years and you," he began, but she interrupted.
"No, you listen to me - I love you and I'm sick of you dreaming that silly Earth all the time. It's time for you to come down to the real world for a change and stop running away from us, from me especially!"
"You'll be the death of me," he laughed suddenly, feeling light and buoyant before this lovely, laughing creature.
"Well yes," she smiled wickedly, "I hope I will be."
"Goddess of death, hmm? We'll see, we'll see," and with a lunge he grabbed her swinging her round.
"That's just for the dreams, you old trickster!"
"Right! And I'll show you some tricks!"
As they ran laughing towards the warm waters of the oasis Makkon looked after them, shaking her head ruefully. Sat came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulders.
"Those kids, still dreaming are they?" he asked, nibbling her ear with his sharp teeth.
"Who knows? Who knows?" she laughed, embracing him gently.
"Makkon!" he shouted, staggering about disoriented, the spice smoke irritating his eyes. He stumbled out into the corridor and a few pets looked at him surprised, "Where is Makkon? You! Ris! Where is she?"
Ris smiled uncertainly and took him by the hand, but he brushed her off roughly. Moving on down the dusky wood panelled hallway. Suddenly he felt strong hands on his shoulders and he turned to find himself face to face with Makkon.
"What was that? What the hell was that?" he was wide eyed and breathing shallowly as swabbed his brow with a wet cloth. She escorted him silently towards the ebony door, "Where are you taking me? You can't kick me out without an explanation!"
"Shh, be silent." she replied, almost carrying him along. She was incredibly strong and weakened as he was he couldn’t resist her. The door opened as they approached and he saw his wagon resting on the ground, there was a bloody rent in its side. His mind reeled as he tried to make sense of what he saw.
Shakulu peered into the fleshy gouge torn in his wagon and suddenly recoiled. There, in the heart of his wagon was a silver and brass casket, still half-full of bluish jelly.
"Ether jelly," he muttered to himself, "Ether jelly!"
With a snarl he rounded on Makkon, "You knew!"
"Yes," she nodded
"Where is she?" he roared, his hair seeming to crackle and sparkle.
"Leave her alone, you old Coyote!" sounded a hauntingly familiar voice from the door. Shakulu turned and there stood Kali, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe, her hair still wet from the preservative ether jelly. She laughed as he stared at her, “You really thought I'd let you go wandering around all on your own? You silly little boy!"
"How did you hijack my telling?" he asked.
"Hijack? Oh, come off it! Sure, you're one of the best tellers, but I know a bit about dreamtime as well! It never was your telling, it’s ours - you just had a big part."
"I return after twelve years and you," he began, but she interrupted.
"No, you listen to me - I love you and I'm sick of you dreaming that silly Earth all the time. It's time for you to come down to the real world for a change and stop running away from us, from me especially!"
"You'll be the death of me," he laughed suddenly, feeling light and buoyant before this lovely, laughing creature.
"Well yes," she smiled wickedly, "I hope I will be."
"Goddess of death, hmm? We'll see, we'll see," and with a lunge he grabbed her swinging her round.
"That's just for the dreams, you old trickster!"
"Right! And I'll show you some tricks!"
As they ran laughing towards the warm waters of the oasis Makkon looked after them, shaking her head ruefully. Sat came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulders.
"Those kids, still dreaming are they?" he asked, nibbling her ear with his sharp teeth.
"Who knows? Who knows?" she laughed, embracing him gently.
G
Guest
Guest
SummerMorning said:
Welcome Summer. Man, that challenge makes my brain hurt just thinking about it. I shall try though (if I can get a moment's peace from the rugrats.)
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Ok SummerMorning...
I read it, but I must say I got a little confused. I felt like I was reading Dune. I never was one for reading sci-fi, but it was interesting enuff. I will start mine sometime this weekend. Still no clue what mythological beastie I will come up with.
By the way which myth did you choose, I must have missed that along the way?
I read it, but I must say I got a little confused. I felt like I was reading Dune.
I never was one for reading sci-fi, but it was interesting enuff. I will start mine sometime this weekend. Still no clue what mythological beastie I will come up with. By the way which myth did you choose, I must have missed that along the way?
SummerMorning
ah...
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2003
- Posts
- 1,986
I introduced Kali, hindu goddess of death. Shakulu is hinted at as being a trickster deity (Coyote). A bit of postmodern mythological mix-n'-match .
.
G
Guest
Guest
Ok, here's my stab at it. Please keep in mind that this is a non-edited piece, so it's a very rough draft. I will very likely polish it up and submit it for the non-erotic fiction category for the survivor contest unless y'all tell me that it's completely awful, lol.
********************************
Emily looked up at the clock on her office wall. Almost six o’clock, which meant that quitting time was just around the corner. Emily stretched in her seat, her back aching from hours of sitting hunched in front of the computer entering credit applications. She had started out at the large furniture company as a sales associate and had managed to finally get off the sales floor and behind a desk. She couldn’t decide which was worse: sore feet or an aching back.
She leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the top of the seat. Her mother was picking her up from work today to go shopping, though she didn’t say for what. Emily hoped that her mother arrived in a good mood. Usually that meant that she would insist on buying something that had caught Emily’s eye. The last time they had gone shopping, Emily had come back home with a designer purse that she had wanted for ages.
“Am I interrupting dreamtime?” asked her mother, who was standing in the doorway.
“Hi Mom, I was just wondering where we were going to shop today.”
“You’ll see,” was all that her mother said in reply.
------------------------------------------------------------
“A funeral home? You brought me to shop at a funeral home?”
“I’m not getting any younger, and I wanted your help in choosing the right place. My biggest problem is that I can’t decide if I want to be buried in a nice coffin or be cremated and have the ash of my remains scattered in the ocean.”
“Mom, you’ve never even been to the ocean.”
“See why I wanted your help? A coffin it will be then. It’s just as well, the thought of being cremated gives me the creeps.”
“You’d be dead mom. It’s not like you’d know.”
“Emily, you are so morbid!”
“This entire conversation is morbid. No, actually, this entire shopping trip is morbid.”
As much as Emily didn’t want to participate in her mom’s *shopping* trip, she couldn’t say no. Emily was an only child and her father had died long ago, leaving the two of them with only each other. Emily’s mother relied on her for many things and she knew that she couldn’t refuse a request that was important to her.
Several hours and five funeral homes later, Emily and her mother were seated at a corner table in a small Mexican restaurant.
“Which one do you think was the best place?” her mother inquired.
“The second one is definitely out of the question. How that place even manages to stay in business is beyond me. What kind of people do they expect to attract with murals of flowery meadows filled with frolicking unicorns painted on every wall?”
“I guess they are trying to attract the New Agers. The service that they offered definitely seemed to lean in that general direction with all the talk of crystals and goddesses.”
Emily absently ran her fingers around her glass, wiping off the beaded condensation. She replayed the interviews with the various directors in her head as they waited for the food to be served.
“I think that it would be between the third and fifth place. They were both very professional and were more than accommodating on the type of service. I think it would be a good idea to do some research and see how they compare to each other.”
Emily figured that she could do this on the internet in between credit applicants during work. She guessed that one company would be just as good as the other, but she wanted to make sure that neither of the places had gotten bad press for violations or any kind of mistake. She shared her idea with her mother, who readily agreed that the plan of action was a good one.
“Do the research and let me know what you come up with. I will defer to your opinion of which place is best after you find out the information.”
They spent the rest of the lunch chatting about the movie that Emily had seen the weekend before and the guy that she was dating.
“Do you think this has the potential to be a serious relationship? I worry that you will spend your life alone.”
“It’s really too early to tell, Mom. I have only been dating the guy for three weeks. He seems nice enough, but I don’t really know if there are any sparks.”
“Well, I hope that this one works out. You have had such bad luck with men lately; surely you are due for a turnaround.”
The waitress arrived with their coffee and desert, which saved Emily’s mom from a rather scathing reply. They sat in silence as they ate their desert and drank their coffee, which was a special blend that tasted like bitter chocolate.
The next day, Emily did the research on the two companies and was very happy that she had made the decision to do so. One of the places that they were considering had made the papers a couple of years back because they had made a serious error and cremated someone who had asked to be interred in a casket. The family raised a huge stink and sued the company. The company settled out of court for an undisclosed amount. According to rumors, the company managed to avoid bankruptcy by financing a deal with a local mob family.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Emily sat at her desk, the memory of her date from the night before fresh in her mind. She had run into Brett, literally, a couple of weeks after the shopping trip with her mother. She had been running an errand for one of the bosses, and in her haste, she had slammed right into him on the sidewalk. After some flustered apologies on her part, he asked for her phone number. She was so taken by his emerald eyes that she gave it to him without thinking.
After returning to the store, she had second thoughts about her rash action, but decided there was no point in worrying about it since there wasn’t anything that she could do to reverse the situation. Brett called her that night and they immediately hit it off. Several phone calls later, he finally asked her out on a date and they had seen each other every night since then.
Emily had not yet told her mother about Brett. She was still stinging a bit from the remark her mother had made about her choice in men, so she had selfishly kept him to herself. She realized that she was being petty, so she picked up her phone to call her mother.
Unfortunately, some customers walked in about that time, so Emily had to postpone her phone call. She had back to back customers for the rest of the afternoon so she had no time to use the phone. At fifteen minutes until closing time, her boss came into her office.
“Emily, there are a couple of policemen here to see you. Is there anything that I should know about before I show them back to your office?”
“No, honestly, I have no idea why they would want to see me.”
Her boss left and then returned a few moments later followed by two uniformed officers.
“Ms. Watson? Emily Watson?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Is your mother’s name Joanna, birthdate 5/15/1950?”
“Yes, what is going on?”
“We’re sorry to be the ones to tell you this m’am, but your mother was in an accident. We need you to come down town and make an identification. I know it will be difficult, but it has to be done.”
“Accident? Identification? Are you telling me that my mother is dead?”
“Yes m’am, sorry.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“No m’am, we checked her identification, but you will be able to see for yourself that it is her.”
“What happened? What kind of accident was it?”
“You really don’t want to know the details.”
“Yes, I do. Otherwise, I will wonder about it for the rest of my life.”
“You mother was in an MVA. I’m sorry, a wreck, she had a wreck. As near as we can tell, an eighteen wheeler lost control and smashed into your mother’s car. She wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and her car was too old to be equipped with an airbag.”
“Was she killed instantly?”
“We don’t know for sure. She was trapped against the steering wheel. Really, you don’t want to know the rest. We really need you to come with us.”
Emily’s boss cut in and asked, “Officers, would it be okay if I took her? She’s obviously upset and in shock. I don’t think that she needs to be subjected to a ride in a police car. I know where to take her.”
“Well, I guess that will be okay. Just make sure she gets there soon.”
“I will.”
Emily sat huddled in her chair, shock enveloping her body like a shroud. Running through her mind was the single thought, “I should have told her about Brett. Then she would have known that I wouldn’t be alone.”
********************************
Emily looked up at the clock on her office wall. Almost six o’clock, which meant that quitting time was just around the corner. Emily stretched in her seat, her back aching from hours of sitting hunched in front of the computer entering credit applications. She had started out at the large furniture company as a sales associate and had managed to finally get off the sales floor and behind a desk. She couldn’t decide which was worse: sore feet or an aching back.
She leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the top of the seat. Her mother was picking her up from work today to go shopping, though she didn’t say for what. Emily hoped that her mother arrived in a good mood. Usually that meant that she would insist on buying something that had caught Emily’s eye. The last time they had gone shopping, Emily had come back home with a designer purse that she had wanted for ages.
“Am I interrupting dreamtime?” asked her mother, who was standing in the doorway.
“Hi Mom, I was just wondering where we were going to shop today.”
“You’ll see,” was all that her mother said in reply.
------------------------------------------------------------
“A funeral home? You brought me to shop at a funeral home?”
“I’m not getting any younger, and I wanted your help in choosing the right place. My biggest problem is that I can’t decide if I want to be buried in a nice coffin or be cremated and have the ash of my remains scattered in the ocean.”
“Mom, you’ve never even been to the ocean.”
“See why I wanted your help? A coffin it will be then. It’s just as well, the thought of being cremated gives me the creeps.”
“You’d be dead mom. It’s not like you’d know.”
“Emily, you are so morbid!”
“This entire conversation is morbid. No, actually, this entire shopping trip is morbid.”
As much as Emily didn’t want to participate in her mom’s *shopping* trip, she couldn’t say no. Emily was an only child and her father had died long ago, leaving the two of them with only each other. Emily’s mother relied on her for many things and she knew that she couldn’t refuse a request that was important to her.
Several hours and five funeral homes later, Emily and her mother were seated at a corner table in a small Mexican restaurant.
“Which one do you think was the best place?” her mother inquired.
“The second one is definitely out of the question. How that place even manages to stay in business is beyond me. What kind of people do they expect to attract with murals of flowery meadows filled with frolicking unicorns painted on every wall?”
“I guess they are trying to attract the New Agers. The service that they offered definitely seemed to lean in that general direction with all the talk of crystals and goddesses.”
Emily absently ran her fingers around her glass, wiping off the beaded condensation. She replayed the interviews with the various directors in her head as they waited for the food to be served.
“I think that it would be between the third and fifth place. They were both very professional and were more than accommodating on the type of service. I think it would be a good idea to do some research and see how they compare to each other.”
Emily figured that she could do this on the internet in between credit applicants during work. She guessed that one company would be just as good as the other, but she wanted to make sure that neither of the places had gotten bad press for violations or any kind of mistake. She shared her idea with her mother, who readily agreed that the plan of action was a good one.
“Do the research and let me know what you come up with. I will defer to your opinion of which place is best after you find out the information.”
They spent the rest of the lunch chatting about the movie that Emily had seen the weekend before and the guy that she was dating.
“Do you think this has the potential to be a serious relationship? I worry that you will spend your life alone.”
“It’s really too early to tell, Mom. I have only been dating the guy for three weeks. He seems nice enough, but I don’t really know if there are any sparks.”
“Well, I hope that this one works out. You have had such bad luck with men lately; surely you are due for a turnaround.”
The waitress arrived with their coffee and desert, which saved Emily’s mom from a rather scathing reply. They sat in silence as they ate their desert and drank their coffee, which was a special blend that tasted like bitter chocolate.
The next day, Emily did the research on the two companies and was very happy that she had made the decision to do so. One of the places that they were considering had made the papers a couple of years back because they had made a serious error and cremated someone who had asked to be interred in a casket. The family raised a huge stink and sued the company. The company settled out of court for an undisclosed amount. According to rumors, the company managed to avoid bankruptcy by financing a deal with a local mob family.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Emily sat at her desk, the memory of her date from the night before fresh in her mind. She had run into Brett, literally, a couple of weeks after the shopping trip with her mother. She had been running an errand for one of the bosses, and in her haste, she had slammed right into him on the sidewalk. After some flustered apologies on her part, he asked for her phone number. She was so taken by his emerald eyes that she gave it to him without thinking.
After returning to the store, she had second thoughts about her rash action, but decided there was no point in worrying about it since there wasn’t anything that she could do to reverse the situation. Brett called her that night and they immediately hit it off. Several phone calls later, he finally asked her out on a date and they had seen each other every night since then.
Emily had not yet told her mother about Brett. She was still stinging a bit from the remark her mother had made about her choice in men, so she had selfishly kept him to herself. She realized that she was being petty, so she picked up her phone to call her mother.
Unfortunately, some customers walked in about that time, so Emily had to postpone her phone call. She had back to back customers for the rest of the afternoon so she had no time to use the phone. At fifteen minutes until closing time, her boss came into her office.
“Emily, there are a couple of policemen here to see you. Is there anything that I should know about before I show them back to your office?”
“No, honestly, I have no idea why they would want to see me.”
Her boss left and then returned a few moments later followed by two uniformed officers.
“Ms. Watson? Emily Watson?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Is your mother’s name Joanna, birthdate 5/15/1950?”
“Yes, what is going on?”
“We’re sorry to be the ones to tell you this m’am, but your mother was in an accident. We need you to come down town and make an identification. I know it will be difficult, but it has to be done.”
“Accident? Identification? Are you telling me that my mother is dead?”
“Yes m’am, sorry.”
“There must be some mistake.”
“No m’am, we checked her identification, but you will be able to see for yourself that it is her.”
“What happened? What kind of accident was it?”
“You really don’t want to know the details.”
“Yes, I do. Otherwise, I will wonder about it for the rest of my life.”
“You mother was in an MVA. I’m sorry, a wreck, she had a wreck. As near as we can tell, an eighteen wheeler lost control and smashed into your mother’s car. She wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and her car was too old to be equipped with an airbag.”
“Was she killed instantly?”
“We don’t know for sure. She was trapped against the steering wheel. Really, you don’t want to know the rest. We really need you to come with us.”
Emily’s boss cut in and asked, “Officers, would it be okay if I took her? She’s obviously upset and in shock. I don’t think that she needs to be subjected to a ride in a police car. I know where to take her.”
“Well, I guess that will be okay. Just make sure she gets there soon.”
“I will.”
Emily sat huddled in her chair, shock enveloping her body like a shroud. Running through her mind was the single thought, “I should have told her about Brett. Then she would have known that I wouldn’t be alone.”
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
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- Oct 9, 2003
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Hey CM
Where is the rest of it? No way that is 1000, and the story is undone. I think some of it got cut out.
Where is the rest of it? No way that is 1000, and the story is undone. I think some of it got cut out.
G
Guest
Guest
How exactly is the story undone? It's not cut off in any way and it comes in at 1,524 words in Word (that's four Word pages). Copy and paste it into Word if you don't believe me.
Curious about it being undone. Did you read it all the way through? I did say it was a rough draft, but I didn't expect it to be so horrible that you thought it was undone....
It does skip days (shown by the ---- marks), but it is a complete short story. It definitely needs shaping up, and that will be done soon.
So, what is exactly undone about it?
Curious about it being undone. Did you read it all the way through? I did say it was a rough draft, but I didn't expect it to be so horrible that you thought it was undone....
It does skip days (shown by the ---- marks), but it is a complete short story. It definitely needs shaping up, and that will be done soon.
So, what is exactly undone about it?
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
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- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
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I was expecting erotic
Sorry it was a bit morbid as the characters stated. I wasn't expecting a tale of death. I never said it was bad, just undone. Well, I figure you had more to tell. It read so fast, I never thought for once it was 1000 words, so that is a credit to you. I haven't even started yet, so I can't say much.
Sorry it was a bit morbid as the characters stated. I wasn't expecting a tale of death. I never said it was bad, just undone. Well, I figure you had more to tell. It read so fast, I never thought for once it was 1000 words, so that is a credit to you. I haven't even started yet, so I can't say much.
G
Guest
Guest
Well, then I got the unexpected twist in right away didn't I? lol
To be honest, I intended for it to be erotic, but the story had other ideas, so what could I do?
I started to describe her date with Brett, but thought considering what would happen at the end of the story that it just didn't fit.
I am sure that when I go back to edit it, that I will flesh it out more. This was my original draft. I went ahead and posted it because I didn't know if I would be able to get it edited and fleshed out totally before the challenge deadline.
To be honest, I intended for it to be erotic, but the story had other ideas, so what could I do?
I started to describe her date with Brett, but thought considering what would happen at the end of the story that it just didn't fit.
I am sure that when I go back to edit it, that I will flesh it out more. This was my original draft. I went ahead and posted it because I didn't know if I would be able to get it edited and fleshed out totally before the challenge deadline.
Last edited by a moderator:
Charun Rules OK!
Here is my effort. 1004 words.
Shafts of moonlight lit the interior casting a pale glow across the assembled relics of past ages, just here and there illuminating enough to discern the objects displayed in the gallery of Etruscan heritage.
That they had wandered off into the depths of the museum was clear enough, no doubt seeking a quite place to engage in some private activity not altogether unconnected with reproduction; though some of their actions displayed the seeking of pleasure, of stimulation, rather than the simple directness of procreation.
She had been the instigator; I had seen it all unravel before me, read her mind, knew of her intention before even she even began to act and make real her dreamtime experience. This fool went along with her wishes, compliant, thinking only of tasting her, of his own gratification, spreading his seed across her body as she lay open before him on the cold marble coffin of my forefathers. Oh, he would pay dearly for his abuse; not of the girl, I care nothing for her. She is gone. She determined her fate when she planned this violation. Not the violation of her body, mere mortal flesh is as of nothing to me. I have a duty to protect the entrance to the underworld. Such carnality as theirs is welcome in our world below but even we do not desecrate the entrance to our world with foul display and abuse such as these two have performed whilst still in the world of the living.
Now she will live out her dreamtime in eternity, coupling with all manner of men and beasts at a time and in a manner of their choosing, not hers, until her very soul screams for the release that will never come. Fool. Carnality is ours to dispense, not yours to claim. Not here. Not on the grave of my forefathers.
Now her blood runs, washing the stain of her desecration from the lid of the tomb. Already I see her fear as her spirit passes below, sucked from her mortal flesh into the endless void of eternity. We have told her of the enormity of her sin, take pleasure in her pure and absolute terror at the fate she has delivered to herself surrounded now by all manner of demons, men and women whose depravity as living entities earned their place in this tormentors hell. Soon they will fight among themselves to claim the prize of driving every moral thought from her soul and delivering her completely as a chattel, a plaything of depravity, to be used, abused and wholly deprived of any moral thought or action until she becomes one of us, a tormentor, a human demon capable of performing the grossest of acts upon the dead and the living.
Now her blood runs off the coffin lid dripping into the wine glass, mingling with the ash from their cigarettes, adding to the ruby redness of the few remaining dregs. I hope she enjoyed the wine, the last thing she will ever have tasted, except possibly her own blood as it coursed up through her windpipe from the damage of my blow, like the taste of bittersweet chocolate filling her mouth before trickling from between her lips as her eyes opened wide in astonishment at the enormity and savagery of my revenge.
I told her. She knew I was coming for her, she ignored me in her lust. He thought she screamed for him as he drove into her, filling her, as she had desired, planned. But she screamed for me as I filled her thoughts with the terror of what was about to become of her and swept down from my high perch on wings transformed from stone and hovered above her with my vulture like face and pointed ears before imploading both of them with my hammer of stone in their throws of their passion, the orgasm of death so much stronger than the orgasm of life.
What of the man? His fate is to be deprived of any rest. He will never enter our or any other domain. His soul will drift abandoned, cold, whilst his mind replays the absolute agony of my taking his life. He will never know the why or what of his death. He will drift forever knowing only the moment of his demise until his entire spiritual existence is the repeated living of his moment of death.
Everyone will say it was a tragic accident. That the hammer had somehow become dislodged from the display high above them, that they were the unfortunate victims of its tragic descent. The look of horror on her face and her clenched hands, looking for all the world as if she were gripping a steering wheel, as she raised them toward me, will be put down to her seeing the hammer fall and knowing she could do nothing to prevent the inevitable.
Of course, the Museum will do everything possible to cover over the events of the night. That a couple could wander off from a private function to another gallery unsupervised to engage in sex and meet such an untimely end would do nothing for the international reputation of the Etruscan collection, though I expect we shall have many more visitors in the coming months as word of the tragedy spreads. She will have time to repent. She will have eternity. I Charun rule this domain and her eternity.
Charun: The Etruscan demon of death who torments the souls of the deceased in the underworld. He also guards the entrance to the underworld. Charun is portrayed with the nose of a vulture, pointed ears and is usually winged. His attribute is the hammer, with which he finished off his victims.
“Mr and Mrs Peterson, thank you for coming to see me. We have a problem that we need to discuss. Sarah wrote this essay for a course project on Etruscan Mythology, I think we need to talk about what she has written and why she choose to write it.”
Here is my effort. 1004 words.
Shafts of moonlight lit the interior casting a pale glow across the assembled relics of past ages, just here and there illuminating enough to discern the objects displayed in the gallery of Etruscan heritage.
That they had wandered off into the depths of the museum was clear enough, no doubt seeking a quite place to engage in some private activity not altogether unconnected with reproduction; though some of their actions displayed the seeking of pleasure, of stimulation, rather than the simple directness of procreation.
She had been the instigator; I had seen it all unravel before me, read her mind, knew of her intention before even she even began to act and make real her dreamtime experience. This fool went along with her wishes, compliant, thinking only of tasting her, of his own gratification, spreading his seed across her body as she lay open before him on the cold marble coffin of my forefathers. Oh, he would pay dearly for his abuse; not of the girl, I care nothing for her. She is gone. She determined her fate when she planned this violation. Not the violation of her body, mere mortal flesh is as of nothing to me. I have a duty to protect the entrance to the underworld. Such carnality as theirs is welcome in our world below but even we do not desecrate the entrance to our world with foul display and abuse such as these two have performed whilst still in the world of the living.
Now she will live out her dreamtime in eternity, coupling with all manner of men and beasts at a time and in a manner of their choosing, not hers, until her very soul screams for the release that will never come. Fool. Carnality is ours to dispense, not yours to claim. Not here. Not on the grave of my forefathers.
Now her blood runs, washing the stain of her desecration from the lid of the tomb. Already I see her fear as her spirit passes below, sucked from her mortal flesh into the endless void of eternity. We have told her of the enormity of her sin, take pleasure in her pure and absolute terror at the fate she has delivered to herself surrounded now by all manner of demons, men and women whose depravity as living entities earned their place in this tormentors hell. Soon they will fight among themselves to claim the prize of driving every moral thought from her soul and delivering her completely as a chattel, a plaything of depravity, to be used, abused and wholly deprived of any moral thought or action until she becomes one of us, a tormentor, a human demon capable of performing the grossest of acts upon the dead and the living.
Now her blood runs off the coffin lid dripping into the wine glass, mingling with the ash from their cigarettes, adding to the ruby redness of the few remaining dregs. I hope she enjoyed the wine, the last thing she will ever have tasted, except possibly her own blood as it coursed up through her windpipe from the damage of my blow, like the taste of bittersweet chocolate filling her mouth before trickling from between her lips as her eyes opened wide in astonishment at the enormity and savagery of my revenge.
I told her. She knew I was coming for her, she ignored me in her lust. He thought she screamed for him as he drove into her, filling her, as she had desired, planned. But she screamed for me as I filled her thoughts with the terror of what was about to become of her and swept down from my high perch on wings transformed from stone and hovered above her with my vulture like face and pointed ears before imploading both of them with my hammer of stone in their throws of their passion, the orgasm of death so much stronger than the orgasm of life.
What of the man? His fate is to be deprived of any rest. He will never enter our or any other domain. His soul will drift abandoned, cold, whilst his mind replays the absolute agony of my taking his life. He will never know the why or what of his death. He will drift forever knowing only the moment of his demise until his entire spiritual existence is the repeated living of his moment of death.
Everyone will say it was a tragic accident. That the hammer had somehow become dislodged from the display high above them, that they were the unfortunate victims of its tragic descent. The look of horror on her face and her clenched hands, looking for all the world as if she were gripping a steering wheel, as she raised them toward me, will be put down to her seeing the hammer fall and knowing she could do nothing to prevent the inevitable.
Of course, the Museum will do everything possible to cover over the events of the night. That a couple could wander off from a private function to another gallery unsupervised to engage in sex and meet such an untimely end would do nothing for the international reputation of the Etruscan collection, though I expect we shall have many more visitors in the coming months as word of the tragedy spreads. She will have time to repent. She will have eternity. I Charun rule this domain and her eternity.
Charun: The Etruscan demon of death who torments the souls of the deceased in the underworld. He also guards the entrance to the underworld. Charun is portrayed with the nose of a vulture, pointed ears and is usually winged. His attribute is the hammer, with which he finished off his victims.
“Mr and Mrs Peterson, thank you for coming to see me. We have a problem that we need to discuss. Sarah wrote this essay for a course project on Etruscan Mythology, I think we need to talk about what she has written and why she choose to write it.”
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Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Interesting piece
I have always relished twists, so this challenge is a particular nice one for me. Nice Job Wills. I hope you will be the next one to challenge us come Friday. Now off to my story...
I have always relished twists, so this challenge is a particular nice one for me. Nice Job Wills. I hope you will be the next one to challenge us come Friday. Now off to my story...
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
SummerMorning,
I see my reply to your piece never got posted.
I like science fiction/fantasy and stuff like that, but I was a bit confused as well.
I gather the young people are figures in a dream? I think you need to make the difference more distinct. Not sure how you could do that, maybe different choice of words? Different time?
What I really liked was the door and the wagon. If you want to do something with this, I think you should make more use of that idea.
Always something to complain, those writer types!
I see my reply to your piece never got posted.
I like science fiction/fantasy and stuff like that, but I was a bit confused as well.
I gather the young people are figures in a dream? I think you need to make the difference more distinct. Not sure how you could do that, maybe different choice of words? Different time?
What I really liked was the door and the wagon. If you want to do something with this, I think you should make more use of that idea.
Always something to complain, those writer types!
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
CM,
Nice twist at the end: sad and sorry.
Right before you skip some time there was a piece where I lost who was speaking.
The dialogue was good in my opinion. Specially in the beginning, I could almost hear it.
Nice twist at the end: sad and sorry.
Right before you skip some time there was a piece where I lost who was speaking.
The dialogue was good in my opinion. Specially in the beginning, I could almost hear it.
I have taken time to read the two posted on this page.
SummerMorning - Firstly, welcome. Pleased you have joined in with this challenge. Not everyones cup of tea but a few of us enjoy.
The plot you have developed is interesting but I feel slightly disjointed, I suspect there is more in your head about the juxtoposition between the two sets of characters than is immediately transparent in the story as written. Using the dream, as I understand it, to move between the character action offers great potential in erotica much of which is embraced by mind games of one sort or another. Are you going to continue working on the story? I would like to read more if you are.
Crimson Maiden
I really enjoyed this, don't know what DG's on about He got so caught up in it, like I did first read, that he skipped half the story! Don't know your age but Mortality as a concept has suddenly caught up with me after years of having to think hard about my age when asked! So this touched a nerve. Thanks.
DG - only kidding. I'll think of something for the end of the week but I'm out of town Friday returning Saturday pm European time and will post a challenge then - if everyone is happy with that.
Looking forward to reading more.
Will's
SummerMorning - Firstly, welcome. Pleased you have joined in with this challenge. Not everyones cup of tea but a few of us enjoy.
The plot you have developed is interesting but I feel slightly disjointed, I suspect there is more in your head about the juxtoposition between the two sets of characters than is immediately transparent in the story as written. Using the dream, as I understand it, to move between the character action offers great potential in erotica much of which is embraced by mind games of one sort or another. Are you going to continue working on the story? I would like to read more if you are.
Crimson Maiden
I really enjoyed this, don't know what DG's on about
He got so caught up in it, like I did first read, that he skipped half the story! Don't know your age but Mortality as a concept has suddenly caught up with me after years of having to think hard about my age when asked! So this touched a nerve. Thanks.DG - only kidding. I'll think of something for the end of the week but I'm out of town Friday returning Saturday pm European time and will post a challenge then - if everyone is happy with that.
Looking forward to reading more.
Will's
DG & Black Tulip
Just checked back up the thread and read your Christmas week offerings. Excellent stories both. DG's with a nice tension and BT's truely sensuous. I'm full of admiration.
Will's
SummerMorning, the city? First guess St Malo in Brittany but then you mentioned the island, so either Jersey or Malta.
Just checked back up the thread and read your Christmas week offerings. Excellent stories both. DG's with a nice tension and BT's truely sensuous. I'm full of admiration.
Will's
SummerMorning, the city? First guess St Malo in Brittany but then you mentioned the island, so either Jersey or Malta.
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
Will's,
It's a good thing I finished my piece before reading yours. Now I can honestly say we drifted somewhat into the same direction.
I think I have found a real nice twist. Don't know where it comes from. Never even thought to write a story like this.
Ok, I cheated with the steering wheel.
1690 words
It was just past dawn and the sun colored the sky a shy pink. As the summer was nearing its end, there were large cobwebs jeweled with dewdrops, sparkling in the early light. The lush green in the glade glittered with dew as well. The air smelled of moist earth and spices, without a doubt announcing the onset of autumn. He threw his head back and inhaled the scents with relish. Gods, he loved this time of the year. The dust and ashes of high summer were over and the bitter cold of winter was not yet at hand. Laughing out loud he expanded his muscled arms to embrace the world and turned to leave this secluded spot.
He roamed through the woods at will. Nobody knew for sure where he lived, where he slept if he slept. All the people of the land knew for certain was that he brought bad luck. He was aware of the belief, but secretly despised them for their silly superstition. The only thing that kept him from enlightening them, was the advantages it brought him. He tossed his hair in the wind, the dark locks reaching almost to his shoulders and his dark blue eyes had a mischievous spark in them. Let them be scared of him. That kept them well and nice out of his way.
Judging from the sun, he guessed it was about noon as he returned to the little clearing. It was his own favorite spot, very secluded and with a small brook nearby. There even grew a few apple trees and in one spot a nice patch of mushrooms returned every year. It was too early for apples or mushrooms so there was no danger of humans hunting for them. He felt free to stretch his limbs and lie basking in the sun. Under the influence of the warm sun and the soft droning of bees his eyes started to close. Dozing in his private patch of greenery he slipped into dreamtime.
It was probably the cracking of a twig or something that alerted him in the first place. Shifting almost imperceptibly he turned his head in the direction of the sound. He pretended to be asleep and hid the angry glow in his eyes. Who dared to intrude this far into his territory? Although he heard someone moving he could see nothing. Getting more irritated by the minute he gave up his pretense and stood erect. With his head thrown back he looked around him but still with no result. Nobody he could see. Frowning he moved a few paces towards the sounds.
As soon as he started moving the sounds stopped. The minute he stopped moving however, the sounds started again. After three of four times, he gave up. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, he returned to the middle of the glade and stood with his back to the direction from which the noises came. Maybe that way he could fool whoever was out there. He closed his eyes so he could concentrate on listening.
He opened his eyes again and had to shake his head. The weird dream was clinging to him and making him restless. Nobody was able to sneak up on him, nobody. So where did that dream come from? He knew the dream meant something special, but he was not sure what. Sighing he turned to leave the glade again.
If he wanted to know the meaning of the dream he had to visit Jacob. He groaned at the thought, because the old man always took his time in dispensing his wisdom. And maybe worse, he was not superstitious at all so he treated him no different from other people. Muttering he made his way to the hut of the old man. He could not afford to let the weird dream slip by.
From a long way off he could already hear Jacob busy with his trade. He rounded the bend in the path and saw the old man standing over a big log. His legs braced, he swung an axe with precision, busily carving another coffin. That was all he ever did. Not burying, not comforting the bereaved, only providing the coffin. And of course his talent for explaining the events of dreamtime.
Despite the noise of his trade Jacob heard someone approaching and straightened his back, setting his axe against the side of the wooden log. Watching he admired the visitor as always. The stern face, the broad chest and the beautiful lines of the powerful legs, the shining black coat. This time though the younger man looked distinctly upset. Jacob frowned. He could not remember ever having seen Conall upset before.
"Conall, welcome." Jacob wiped the sweat of his brow and leaned against the coffin he had been hacking out of the piece of oak. "Something to drink? Water? Wine?" He hid a grin when he saw the annoyed look on the other's face. He knew very well that he irritated Conall with his unhurried ways. His guest shook his head but Jacob fancied a drink himself so he walked at his leisure inside to fetch a jug of wine.
When he came back he offered Conall a glass all the same and he smiled when his guest accepted after all. The wine smelled like bitter chocolate and was nearly black in color. Jacob settled himself on the half-finished coffin and sipped from his wine, enjoying the smooth taste and watching the other over the rim of his glass. He noticed how the strong hands clutched the frail goblet.
It took no more than two sips before Conall started speaking, telling him the weird dream and asking for an explanation. Jacob nodded as he listened, encouraging the other to describe his exact feelings. After he heard the whole tale he topped up the goblet and shifted to a place next to Conall.
He patted the younger man on the smooth bronzed shoulder. "I can see it has upset you. But don't worry. I think I can explain if you give me some time." Enjoying the aroma of the wine, he watched Conall empty his second glass. He muttered a bit about seasonal influences, the phase of the moon and coaxed another goblet of wine inside his visitor.
Conall knew he was drinking a bit too fast, but he felt upset all over again. Jacob was being more tiresome than ever and apart from the dream he was feeling bad at ease. The old man was patting him on the shoulder and he felt the gnarled hand sliding along his back, as if he was a damn horse. But before he could chide him, something utterly unexpected happened. Conall was so astonished he opened his mouth in surprise, thereby making it even worse.
The old idiot kissed him! He, kissed by an old man. Conall was completely lost. He had never fancied a man before, but the kiss excited him all the same. The feel of hands caressing the shining coat on his back was completely different than anything he had ever felt before. Up to now he had always been the aggressor, taking the occasional virgin who wandered too far into the woods, but he couldn't say he was very keen on it. Sure, it relieved him, but fun? Not really.
Conall tried to back away, but it was too late. One of the gnarled hands stroked his chest, teasing his nipples to hard points. The other trailed along his side, dropped down to his belly and found its way to his cock. He closed his eyes and threw his head back. It felt incredible. The hands knew exactly how to please him, stroking his chest and his belly, teasing his cock to the brink and then slowing down again. After a while he felt his legs starting to quiver. His mouth was plundered by Jacob's tongue and his cock was pumped by a warm, firm hand. The thumb caressing the underside drove him nearly wild. No longer able to hold back he reared on his hind legs and both front hooves thudded against the half-finished coffin.
"That's better boy." Jacob crooned as the centaur presented his cock and he wasted no time in taking it into his mouth. He sucked and licked, just able to swallow the top to swirl his tongue around, all the while stroking the sides with the silky soft hair. The old man closed his eyes in pleasure. God, he couldn't remember how long he had been dreaming of this. Ever since he first laid eyes on the beautiful creature he had wanted to touch him, taste him, make him cum. He heard the centaur make a groaning sound and felt the big body start to thrust.
Conall felt the pressure in his balls building up and could not stop himself from moving his hips forward. He wanted to fuck that warm, wet mouth. Without thought he bucked, and bucked again. He was oblivious to everything except the tightening in his balls, the tension in his cock. He never noticed that he had kicked over the big log of wood and the final eruption of his seed threw the old man backwards into the half-finished coffin, knocking his skull against the solid wood.
The centaur stood panting on unsteady legs, his tail swishing agitated from left to right. His hands reached out and carefully touched the old man's face. He lay in his half-made coffin, face pale and eyes closed, his breathing shallow. When the hands of the younger man reached him he smiled and looked up into that stern face.
"Don't be upset. I got what I have wanted for many years." Jacob paused for a moment to take another shallow breath. "I still owe you your dream. No, don't stop me. It is this: no steering the wheel of fortune." He smiled into the bewildered face above him. "You cannot escape your destiny because you can't see it coming." The old man closed his eyes and sighed his last breath. Leaving the centaur wondering if he brought bad luck after all.
It's a good thing I finished my piece before reading yours. Now I can honestly say we drifted somewhat into the same direction.
I think I have found a real nice twist. Don't know where it comes from. Never even thought to write a story like this.
Ok, I cheated with the steering wheel.
1690 words
It was just past dawn and the sun colored the sky a shy pink. As the summer was nearing its end, there were large cobwebs jeweled with dewdrops, sparkling in the early light. The lush green in the glade glittered with dew as well. The air smelled of moist earth and spices, without a doubt announcing the onset of autumn. He threw his head back and inhaled the scents with relish. Gods, he loved this time of the year. The dust and ashes of high summer were over and the bitter cold of winter was not yet at hand. Laughing out loud he expanded his muscled arms to embrace the world and turned to leave this secluded spot.
He roamed through the woods at will. Nobody knew for sure where he lived, where he slept if he slept. All the people of the land knew for certain was that he brought bad luck. He was aware of the belief, but secretly despised them for their silly superstition. The only thing that kept him from enlightening them, was the advantages it brought him. He tossed his hair in the wind, the dark locks reaching almost to his shoulders and his dark blue eyes had a mischievous spark in them. Let them be scared of him. That kept them well and nice out of his way.
Judging from the sun, he guessed it was about noon as he returned to the little clearing. It was his own favorite spot, very secluded and with a small brook nearby. There even grew a few apple trees and in one spot a nice patch of mushrooms returned every year. It was too early for apples or mushrooms so there was no danger of humans hunting for them. He felt free to stretch his limbs and lie basking in the sun. Under the influence of the warm sun and the soft droning of bees his eyes started to close. Dozing in his private patch of greenery he slipped into dreamtime.
It was probably the cracking of a twig or something that alerted him in the first place. Shifting almost imperceptibly he turned his head in the direction of the sound. He pretended to be asleep and hid the angry glow in his eyes. Who dared to intrude this far into his territory? Although he heard someone moving he could see nothing. Getting more irritated by the minute he gave up his pretense and stood erect. With his head thrown back he looked around him but still with no result. Nobody he could see. Frowning he moved a few paces towards the sounds.
As soon as he started moving the sounds stopped. The minute he stopped moving however, the sounds started again. After three of four times, he gave up. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, he returned to the middle of the glade and stood with his back to the direction from which the noises came. Maybe that way he could fool whoever was out there. He closed his eyes so he could concentrate on listening.
He opened his eyes again and had to shake his head. The weird dream was clinging to him and making him restless. Nobody was able to sneak up on him, nobody. So where did that dream come from? He knew the dream meant something special, but he was not sure what. Sighing he turned to leave the glade again.
If he wanted to know the meaning of the dream he had to visit Jacob. He groaned at the thought, because the old man always took his time in dispensing his wisdom. And maybe worse, he was not superstitious at all so he treated him no different from other people. Muttering he made his way to the hut of the old man. He could not afford to let the weird dream slip by.
From a long way off he could already hear Jacob busy with his trade. He rounded the bend in the path and saw the old man standing over a big log. His legs braced, he swung an axe with precision, busily carving another coffin. That was all he ever did. Not burying, not comforting the bereaved, only providing the coffin. And of course his talent for explaining the events of dreamtime.
Despite the noise of his trade Jacob heard someone approaching and straightened his back, setting his axe against the side of the wooden log. Watching he admired the visitor as always. The stern face, the broad chest and the beautiful lines of the powerful legs, the shining black coat. This time though the younger man looked distinctly upset. Jacob frowned. He could not remember ever having seen Conall upset before.
"Conall, welcome." Jacob wiped the sweat of his brow and leaned against the coffin he had been hacking out of the piece of oak. "Something to drink? Water? Wine?" He hid a grin when he saw the annoyed look on the other's face. He knew very well that he irritated Conall with his unhurried ways. His guest shook his head but Jacob fancied a drink himself so he walked at his leisure inside to fetch a jug of wine.
When he came back he offered Conall a glass all the same and he smiled when his guest accepted after all. The wine smelled like bitter chocolate and was nearly black in color. Jacob settled himself on the half-finished coffin and sipped from his wine, enjoying the smooth taste and watching the other over the rim of his glass. He noticed how the strong hands clutched the frail goblet.
It took no more than two sips before Conall started speaking, telling him the weird dream and asking for an explanation. Jacob nodded as he listened, encouraging the other to describe his exact feelings. After he heard the whole tale he topped up the goblet and shifted to a place next to Conall.
He patted the younger man on the smooth bronzed shoulder. "I can see it has upset you. But don't worry. I think I can explain if you give me some time." Enjoying the aroma of the wine, he watched Conall empty his second glass. He muttered a bit about seasonal influences, the phase of the moon and coaxed another goblet of wine inside his visitor.
Conall knew he was drinking a bit too fast, but he felt upset all over again. Jacob was being more tiresome than ever and apart from the dream he was feeling bad at ease. The old man was patting him on the shoulder and he felt the gnarled hand sliding along his back, as if he was a damn horse. But before he could chide him, something utterly unexpected happened. Conall was so astonished he opened his mouth in surprise, thereby making it even worse.
The old idiot kissed him! He, kissed by an old man. Conall was completely lost. He had never fancied a man before, but the kiss excited him all the same. The feel of hands caressing the shining coat on his back was completely different than anything he had ever felt before. Up to now he had always been the aggressor, taking the occasional virgin who wandered too far into the woods, but he couldn't say he was very keen on it. Sure, it relieved him, but fun? Not really.
Conall tried to back away, but it was too late. One of the gnarled hands stroked his chest, teasing his nipples to hard points. The other trailed along his side, dropped down to his belly and found its way to his cock. He closed his eyes and threw his head back. It felt incredible. The hands knew exactly how to please him, stroking his chest and his belly, teasing his cock to the brink and then slowing down again. After a while he felt his legs starting to quiver. His mouth was plundered by Jacob's tongue and his cock was pumped by a warm, firm hand. The thumb caressing the underside drove him nearly wild. No longer able to hold back he reared on his hind legs and both front hooves thudded against the half-finished coffin.
"That's better boy." Jacob crooned as the centaur presented his cock and he wasted no time in taking it into his mouth. He sucked and licked, just able to swallow the top to swirl his tongue around, all the while stroking the sides with the silky soft hair. The old man closed his eyes in pleasure. God, he couldn't remember how long he had been dreaming of this. Ever since he first laid eyes on the beautiful creature he had wanted to touch him, taste him, make him cum. He heard the centaur make a groaning sound and felt the big body start to thrust.
Conall felt the pressure in his balls building up and could not stop himself from moving his hips forward. He wanted to fuck that warm, wet mouth. Without thought he bucked, and bucked again. He was oblivious to everything except the tightening in his balls, the tension in his cock. He never noticed that he had kicked over the big log of wood and the final eruption of his seed threw the old man backwards into the half-finished coffin, knocking his skull against the solid wood.
The centaur stood panting on unsteady legs, his tail swishing agitated from left to right. His hands reached out and carefully touched the old man's face. He lay in his half-made coffin, face pale and eyes closed, his breathing shallow. When the hands of the younger man reached him he smiled and looked up into that stern face.
"Don't be upset. I got what I have wanted for many years." Jacob paused for a moment to take another shallow breath. "I still owe you your dream. No, don't stop me. It is this: no steering the wheel of fortune." He smiled into the bewildered face above him. "You cannot escape your destiny because you can't see it coming." The old man closed his eyes and sighed his last breath. Leaving the centaur wondering if he brought bad luck after all.
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Guest
Guest
I finally had the time to read the stories.
Summer: your story was enjoyable in parts, but I agree with all that said it was confusing. There needs to be a more discernable switch between the two couples. I honestly had no idea how they crossed into each other. Other than that, it was very descriptive and each separate part flowed well on its own (just not into each other.)
Wills: nice story, would be a good addition to the erotic horror category, excellent uses of the challenge words.
BT: don't feel bad about cheating with the steering wheel, I kind of did that with the unicorn. Wonderful story, nice twist at the end, I wasn't expecting that.
Summer: your story was enjoyable in parts, but I agree with all that said it was confusing. There needs to be a more discernable switch between the two couples. I honestly had no idea how they crossed into each other. Other than that, it was very descriptive and each separate part flowed well on its own (just not into each other.)
Wills: nice story, would be a good addition to the erotic horror category, excellent uses of the challenge words.
BT: don't feel bad about cheating with the steering wheel, I kind of did that with the unicorn. Wonderful story, nice twist at the end, I wasn't expecting that.
G
Guest
Guest
Thanks
for the comments on my stories.
Just curious BT, can you tell me exactly which part you lost who was talking? Thanks!
for the comments on my stories.
Just curious BT, can you tell me exactly which part you lost who was talking? Thanks!
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