Come Morning
12:03 Oct 27 2009
Times Read: 975
*For Adults Only
Dark skin against a white fluffy towel, which she pulled up to her armpits, Beverly stepped from the bathroom. She had left my bed ten minutes earlier, then the shower a minute ago: and, as steam emanated from the open bathroom door, I watched water droplets lazily drip down her exquisite shoulders.
The alarm had rung shrilly for a good minute or so, and then she had risen.
As she had got out of bed, Beverly had untangled her legs from mine: and, I’d woken.
And, as she had done so, I had recalled how we had spent the night.
She had taken me and astride my sweating body, rode me, grinding herself on me, as her hair swept this way and that, as her eyes flickered open and, closed as she moaned her pleasure aloud.
And, as she has ridden me, bringing herself on me, as I came within her, I savoured the taste of her, that had so enamoured my taste buds, already livened from the wine we had drunk in the bar where we had met.
She had lain back, legs raised and parted, for me to hold onto her inner thighs, as I’d lapped at her succulent flesh, until I’d thought I would drown in her ejaculate, while I’d drunk far more from her than I had at the bar, as I’d sought to chat up the girl with the green eyes, who had stood at the bar and enthralled me so.
“I have to be going now,” she tells me, as she wriggles into her tight blue jeans.
And I can’t help but think, ‘I preferred watching you take them off.”
Echoes Of War – Deadman Rising
02:06 Oct 18 2009
Times Read: 994
The right eye had blood trickling into it: and hazily, the world came into focus.
He was in an empty, dusty street ‘somewhere in the Middle-East’ and, it was hot and getting hotter.
The helmet was dead and, he knew they would have lost all telemetry on him.
He rolled onto his side so he could stare down what remained of the old quarter of town, now naught but rubble.
Ahead, his adversary lay on its side, a large rent in the side of its body armour and much of it’s human looking face, augmented with mechanics; leaving a blackened hole and burnt out circuitry.
He blinked, the blood and sweat trickling into his eyes.
So, gingerly lifting his left arm from the elbow, he unfastened the seal on his right gauntlet.
With his bare hand, he reached to the clip on the left side of his neck, which he unfastened.
The lock hissed open and with a sharp twist, Alpha 3 removed his helmet.
He wiped the blood and sweat from his eyes, then forehead; he blinked, several times.
The behemoth had been felled and, its weaponry silenced.
And, to judge by the pain that swept through his body, the drugs had worn off completely.
So, blinking slowly, with the agony of movement, Alpha groaned, as he flexed each muscle in turn.
“Nothing broken,” He said to himself, with a rueful grin.
His company had fallen, man by man, to superior tech.
And, Alpha knew full well that without his sacrifice, the cyborg would not have been stopped.
It had been a full-frontal assault that he had not planned on living through, yet he had.
Alpha smiled wanly at that thought.
The raid had been more successful that they had expected. They had discovered that their enemy had fallen back and taken refuge beneath ground, in large complex.
And, the adversary they now faced were the remains of an army, given different forms of bio-engineering, to augment their human condition.
And then, a cyborg had followed; and as the company made their way back to their lines it had killed them all, one-by-one, effortlessly and, mercilessly.
Yet through it all, Alpha lived.
The suit had taken the brunt of the fallout from the attack, but it seemed broken beyond repair now; and without his stims Alpha doubted that he could extricate himself from it’s shell.
Though the enemy was using state of the art technology they’d had some useful tech of their own: an experimental sonar weapon, designed to funnel sound in a compressed beam, and thus disrupt cells on a molecular level; and so in effect, tear them apart, on contact.
This had been the weapon he had used on the behemoth, moments before it had struck him, sending him flying several feet, in to a pile of bricks, that hot afternoon, dust billowing outward, as time slowed down.
And, as he had faded into unconsciousness, Alpha saw the hole he had rent in the side of the cyborg’s face, leaving the rest, a mass of flesh, blood and wires.
And, as the flies gathered round and his eyes closed, he smiled.
‘After all,’ Alpha thought, ‘it was less than human, more machine.’
Then as the red sun set and the things came out of the shadows, Alpha pulled himself into an upright position, with the remainder of the wall behind him.
He snapped his head, from sidetoside quickly, and heard: he heard the skitters, skittering, out in the shadows.
Alpha’s lack of stim’s was evident, and his suit was rendered immobile; and so suddenly, he was very, very scared.
One Wife, One Life18:10 Oct 06 2009
Times Read: 1,011
*a short-story, for Adult’s.
Mason was twenty-eight, slim, attractive and a good mother, she thought.
So, the question was, what kept her husband on the computer till two every morning?
Oh yes, she knew the answer, or thought she did.
‘But you never knew, did you?’ She reminded herself yet again, as she straightened the pillows behind her and unfurled the corner of the page of the new Jackie Collins novel: ‘nearest to sex I’ll be getting,’ she thought with a sigh, sliding her free hand down below the duvet, to caress her trimmed mons, her middle finger-tip gliding over the clitoral hood, easing it back a little; and repeated the action again and again, slowly, her legs splayed, arousal growing.
‘If only he was here,’ Mason thought, aware how stimulated she was getting under the insistent soft caress of her own fingers.
She had dressed to please, in a black teddy and self support hose, just to entice her husband, but to do that he had to be there: and he wasn’t, again.
And, she was a woman, with needs.
Dropping the book to the floor, she closed her eyes and sighed, as her fingers began to bring her out of herself, into a place she so rarely visited of late: and, all of a sudden Mason sat bolt upright, wide-eyed and somewhat annoyed.
She shouldn’t have to pleasure herself, not when she was married to a man like Him.
‘So what went wrong??’ She considered, not for the first time this month.
It was as she asked herself this that Mason heard footsteps on the stairs: ‘Finally.’
“Honey,” she heard him whisper, as she lay there with her back to him, her eyes still wide open, as she restrained her unbound annoyance.
“Honey, you awake??” He whispered, as he undressed.
Then she felt the bed weigh down as he lay next to her and turned the light off.
And, though she knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, Mason reached over to her bedside lamp, which she switched on and, looked at her husband the Puma.
‘Damn!!!’ She thought, as she looked at the furry next to her.
“Instead of screwing me, you’ve been with someone Yiffing or on Second Life, haven’t you?” She snarled.
And next to her warm body, Mason’s husband slept the sleep of the sated; and he purred with contentment.
Counsellor Tied
23:57 Oct 05 2009
Times Read: 1,013
He looked at the clock above her head on the wall behind her, as the young woman with dark hair and flashing brown eyes caught his gaze.
“So, you didn’t tell me of your greatest fear,” she reminded him.
It’d been the same for the last three weeks, in the last twenty minutes or so, of their hour-long session, he would begin to let down the wall a little and properly answer her questions, without any of his usual facetious answers.
She crossed her legs, right over left, allowing the tight ribbed woollen grey dress to ride a little higher, her right heel swinging on her toes, the heel flipping onto and off her stocking-clad foot.
“Besides beautiful intelligent women?” He queried, with sardonic wit.
“Yes, besides ‘beautiful intelligent women’” she retorted, as her pen scribbled notes on the pad in her lap.
And, studying her calves through half-lidded eyes, he answered quietly, “Me.”
Her pen paused over the pad, as she looked up, as he lifted his eyes to hers.
“Two minutes to go,” he reminded her, with a grin.
She uncrossed her legs and, he noticed the dark band at the top of the hose on her left leg, with suggested she was wearing self-support hose, a thought that kept him grinning, as he made his appointment for the following week, prior to leaving the building and walking across the small side-road to The Firemen’s Arms opposite, where a much needed whiskey stood on the bar-top as soon as the bar-staff saw him walk through the doors.
It was only a house-double, but it did the job.
He lifted the glass to hi lips, knocked it back, then as the warmth filled his gut, he placed the right coin on the bartop, with a small tip: it would’ve been more, but he didn’t have it to leave, unemployment had got to his pocket again.
But, the morning wasn’t gone yet; and there was a day to be had, so saying his “thank you’s” he left the bar and walked across the car park across from it’s front, to the side road, which led into the town’s precinct area.
He smiled; in fact he couldn’t help but smile. There was pleasant warmth to the day that matched how his gut felt after the whiskey and, no matter what the rest might hold, this moment was good.
Such thoughts were rare nowadays and, he revelled in the luxury of happy, as he continued on his way, to purchase a birthday card.
It wasn’t an onerous mission, but he wasn’t too keen on crowds, which was why he would walk as though he were blinkered, staring straight ahead and, into the eyes of anyone walking toward him.
And like the pack animals his action sought to emulate, the responses was always nigh on immediate, as the person he strode toward would avert their gaze and step away out of his path.
It wasn’t that he was scary in itself, but he had learnt how best to appear so: and, it worked, for him. It was almost like the parting of The Red Sea,’ he thought with wry amusement, as he took the last few paces toward the door of Cards R Us.
The bell above the door sounded, as he entered and the brunette behind the small counter near the door lifted her head and her eyes from the copy true Crimes.
She glanced his way; then went back to her reading, dismissing him as just another browser. ‘There’s been a lot of them, that morning,’ she thought wryly, wondering why she bothered to keep such long hours, when there was such a lack of customers.
And, for a moment, she laughed inwardly, at the thought that if not for her work she would be sat at home, probably reading True Crimes, or one of those glossy women’s mags, ‘So, not much change there then.’
“Erm, can I have a hand??” She heard the solitary fellow in her shop ask; and again she looked up, with a cursory smile flitting briefly across her face.
“Just the one?” She asked, setting her magazine aside.
And, he groaned. Her puns were worse than his, ‘if that were possible?’ he mused.
With a tired grin, he responded, “I only need one.”
This time she smiled, albeit wanly; and setting her magazine aside she stepped at from behind the counter, “How can I help you then?”
“I’m looking for summat for my Mother,” I told her.
“Uh-huh,” she responded with crossed arms, staring at me, with a grin.
“Well, the birthday cards for a Mother are over there,” she said, directing her gaze at the far aisle.
I had to say some, I just had to: after all, everything that the counsellor was saying suggested I let down ‘my wall,’ so others could get in, connect as it were.
But, what was it? What could I say? And, I’d crouched down to look at the words on another card, reading it intently. Suddenly, I recalled the film; and it had taken some remembering, as it had been a good night.
“I watched a good film last night.” I told her, standing up, one hand on the top of the shelving.
“Uh huh?” She responded, still more interested in her magazine than in what I was saying, but with my memory suddenly flowing as it was, there was noway of stopping my mouth, noway at all. I kinda went into full motormouth mode.
“Yeh, we watched a post-Tarantino film, ‘Hells Ride’, starring Michael Madsen and several others I like. And boy was it good. I mean, it had everything in it, girls, guns and big bikes and the dialogue was excellent. And then, after we’d watched it we watched ‘Infestation’, a comedy horror, with that fella in it, who plays the Devil in the t.v. show ‘Reaper.’ And, we’d both enjoyed a pipe or so, as the bugs were eventually vanquished. The film ended with a full ashtray and, a euphoric whirl in my head.
So, when my friend stood up from the bed and began to get his gear together, I’d formulated my plan.
“Use your bathroom?” He’d asked.
“No,” I’d said with a grin: then sat back and smiled and said, “Of course, go ‘ead.”
Then I’d sat back onto my tailbone, to let him pass.
As the door had bedroom door closed I’d stood and opened the closed door on the side locker, with three open compartments.
Then I’d removed a pair of my favourite lilac, or puce panties, from on top of a pile of documents. I’m not too sure of the colour; I’m seventeen per cent colour blind on the red green spectrum.
I’d then tucked the panties beneath the duvet, just by the pillow; and, I’d thrilled for a minute, at the idea of him seeing them, somehow.
But, instead of the series of quickly built scenario that I’d built up, all which had happened was Mike sticking his head around the door and asking, “Can you get my pipe?”
I’d been still aroused at the passing thought that I could’ve been caught; I reached down to the floor at the side of the locker and retrieved his small brass pipe.
And, just a short while later, after seeing him to his bike and, out the gate, I’d looked up to the sky and, the moon a night or so away from being full. And, I’d smiled.”
Finally I was quiet, very aware of the open mouth on the cashier. The brunette seemed at a loss for words. And finally she said, “And, what colour are you wearing today?”
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