1321 lines
81 KiB
Plaintext
1321 lines
81 KiB
Plaintext
The HEAT
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by
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James Charles Lynn
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1
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On July 11th, the temperature in downtown Willyville topped 94
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degrees, a considerable jump from the high of 78 the previous day. The high
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pressure area that Bob Katt, the weather forcaster for TV station KNUT, had
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been predicting all week had finally arrived. The sun sat hot and brassy in
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a sky devoid of clouds. Bob Katt had predicted that the temperature would
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only increase for the rest of the week, at least. The heat wave had begun.
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Three days later the temperature broke 100 and everybody knew the heat
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was here to stay. The air was hot and heavy. Those unfortunate enough to be
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working outside or without benefit of air conditioning groaned and cursed
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the sun, giver of all life and bringer of all misery.
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Skin became a much more common sight as uncomfortable humans stripped
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down to the bare neccessities, if not farther, in search of some relief. As
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clothes fell away, so did inhibitions as the human, the horniest animal on
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earth (who was actually capable of becoming sexually aroused at the mere
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sight of the uncovered body of a fellow human of the preferred sex! Imagine
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that!) began to follow the urges that nature had imbued them and that they
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themselves had honed to a fine and wonderous art.
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In other words, once the night cooled off, they started fucking like
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rabbits.
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But human nature can be a two edged sword, and while one edge was
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sweet, the other was very bitter indeed. Hot weather and its attendant ills
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caused tempers to flare where they otherwise would have been held with
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discretion. Many great home truths, which had been considerately
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unmentioned by friends, lovers, relatives, etc., suddenly came out in full
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force with the expected arguments and fights following. Frustration at the
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endless discomfort caused human to strike out at fellow human in a futile
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substitute for lashing back at the true source of their aggravation, a safe
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93 million miles out of reach. The local constabulary spent a great portion
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of their time quelling these arguments. Of course, being human and just as
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uncomfortable as everybody else, their tempers were somewhat shorter than
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they would normally have been, and guess who they took it out on? Quite a
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number of offenders made their way to the local lockup by way of the local
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emergency room.
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But all of this was simply human nature, and none of it was very
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serious, at least not on a grand scale. Civilization had survived much
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worse. But on a personal level some of the catastropies were very serious.
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Some lives were changed completely. One such person who'd had his life
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changed by the heat was Harold Sykes. And here's what happened...
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---
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The moon poured in through the open window, flooding the bedroom with
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an eerie half light. The air was warm, a pleasant 75 degrees. Perfect
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temperature for nudity. Cindi settled back on the pillow with a satisfied
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sigh of pleasure not yet faded to memory. Harold still kneeled on the bed
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between her knees, his erection pounding almost painfully against his
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belly. The moonlight spilled across her nude, fluid form, and he lovingly
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eyed her firm, small breasts, still hard nippled in the aftermath of her
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orgasm. His eyes roamed down her smooth, taut belly to the wiry mass of her
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pubic hair, where he had but moments ago spent so much time carefully and
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artistically bringing her to a powerful climax. Whatever else you could say
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about his performance in the sack, he knew how to give head. It was one of
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the skills he was especially proud of.
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But enough wool-gathering (bad pun intended). Harold leaned forward,
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placing his hands on the bed on either side of her. He kissed her fully and
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deeply as he gently lowered his weight onto her. For a moment they simply
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lay there, as he savored the full body contact, the feel of her naked skin
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against his own. Then he raised his hips and she gently guided him into
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her.
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For Harold, at least, no sensation in the world could ever compare to
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the warm, slinky feeling of penetration. He thrust deep, and her hips moved
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in response. His excitement towered to new heights, and his balls ached for
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release. Take it slow, take it slow. He kissed her again and ran his hand
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along her side, from thigh to shoulder, feeling, touching, loving.
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He began to pump in a slow sinuous rhythem, her hips moving with his.
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Her legs raised and locked around his waist as her hands moved along his
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back. Her breathing became short and rapid, and Harold knew she was
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building to another orgasm. With each thrust, his own pleasure mounted to a
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new height until finally he poised, breathless, at the brink. Too soon, too
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soon...
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Too late. He cried out as his seed shot into the warm depths of her
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body. Face straining, he pumped again, one last time, trying to squeeze
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what last litle bit of feeling might be left after that almost painful
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explosion of pleasure. Then he collapsed on top of her, exhausted.
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For an endless time he lay, gathering strength. Finally it soaked into
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his sated conciousness that something was wrong. Cindi lay beneath him
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wooden, unmoving. He looked down into eyes that stared back with cold fury.
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"What- what's the matter?"
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The anger in her eyes flared as she placed her hands on his chest and
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pushed him off. Her strength was surprising, and Harold fairly flew against
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the wall by the bed. Blinking back stars, he looked at her in confusion.
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"God dammit!" she yelled.
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Frightened now, Harold could only gasp, "What... what..."
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"You didn't even try to make it last!" Hands on hips, her bare breasts
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jiggled fetchingly as she shouted. But Harold wasn't exactly fetched at the
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moment.
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"I sure did try! It's not my fault-"
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"The fuck it isn't! You don't even TRY!" she yelled, "Two pumps, a
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tickle, and a squirt and that's all you're ever good for! I'm sick of it!"
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What the fuck was this? It was hard to believe she had been so
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intimate and caring a minute before. Miss Jekyl had just turned into a
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raving Miss Hyde and Harold was far too stunned to properly defend himself.
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"You mean to say you haven't gotten any enjoyment out of tonight?"
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"Ha!" She was gathering her clothes and putting them on now. "Hasn't
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it ever occurred to you that I might get a little tired of being frigged
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and licked every single night? I want a MAN, dammit! Not some little boy
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who shoots his wad five seconds after he gets his pants off!"
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He watched, unbelieving, as she stomped around the room. This was the
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woman he had been so in lust with the last few weeks? Was he really such a
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terrible lover? "Why are you doing this to me?"
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"You did it to yourself." she snapped. She was fully dressed by now.
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Shouldering her handbag, she turned to him. "I'm leaving now. Until you
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learn how to fuck, don't bother calling me." Her pretty features twisted
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into an ugly ironic smile, "Have a nice life."
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And then she left. Harold stared at the door a long time, his stomach
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churning along with his mind. Cindi had deliberately set about to hurt him
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in the worst way she possibly could. The only thought that kept running
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through his head was WHY?
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The sound of a car starting and pulling out floated in through the
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bedroom window. Somehow this sound seemed to bring reality back into focus
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and his mind started working again. With a snarl he jumped off the bed and
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ran to the window, throwing the curtains aside.
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He screamed something out the window, causing lights to come on all
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over the neighborhood: "YOU FUCKING BITCH!"
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He ducked back inside before anybody could see him, collapsing back on
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the bed. Nothing was resolved, and some painful issues would have to be
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dealt with in the near future.
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But he had to admit that, for the moment, he felt a little better.
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2
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The days seemed to grow longer, and if possible, hotter. Bob Katt
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recieved the usual number of crank letters and calls demanding he do
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something about the heat. He even went so far as to run a videotape of an
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indian rain dance on his show. No such luck, and the local indian community
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inundated KNUT with calls demanding Bob's resignation for broadcasting
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racist material. A couple dozen even went so far as to picket the station's
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parking lot. It was noted by many that some of the placards bearing the
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station's call sign, the N and the U were transposed, though whether this
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was accidental or intentional was unclear. Bob was beginning to wonder if
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it was time for that long overdue vacation. The station manager wondered
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the same thing.
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The growing membership of the Willyville Nudist Society (formed
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somewhere around July 11th) petitioned the mayor's office to temporarily
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modify the laws against public indecency so as to allow the nudists to
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pursue their own version of 'personal freedom'. A story about it appeared
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in the local newspaper, and a day later the mayor's office recieved over a
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thousand anonymous letters in support of the petition. However, almost 80%
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of those letters were mimeographed in the same writing, unsigned, and sent
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without return addresses. Somebody had been very busy, indeed. There was no
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comment from the mayor's office about the whole situation. Rumor had it he
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had snuck out of town for a long overdue vacation...
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---
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For Harold Sykes, the usual lunacy of Willyville passed over him
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without notice as his days stretched into a grey cloud of depression. At
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work he hardly spoke, and when he went home he drew the blinds and sat in
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the stifling heat staring at a blank wall. When he saw a pretty girl out on
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the street he would avert his eyes until she passed by. When his friends at
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work spoke to him he would always jump, as if jolted from some private
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world. When asked about his change of behavior, he would simply dismiss it
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as the aftermath of a breakup. But deep inside his heart ached and he spent
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long, sleepless nights wondering who Cindi might be with and what they
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might be doing and being certain that she was having a far, far better time
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now than she had ever had with him. His depression grew deeper and deeper
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and he knew that over the horizon lay only more dark clouds.
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The situation came to a head when Harold nearly throttled a co-worker
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for singing "Zipity-Doo-Da" one morning after announcing his engagement.
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After explaining to his supervisor (and the police officer) that he had
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been under a lot of stress lately, he was awarded with a two-week (unpaid)
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vacation and the advice to see a psychiatrist. Soon.
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Instead he sat at home, watching "Love Boat" reruns and drinking some
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horrible beer and lemonade concotion bottled in New Jersey. Masochism was
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the word of the day here.
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He was idly (and a bit drunkenly) trying to decide whether to use a
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sledgehammer or a shotgun on the TV set when the phone rang.
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The harsh, obnoxious sound grated in his ears, pulling him from the
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fantasy that enveloped him. A part of him begged to answer the phone, as
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usual, to see who would be calling. The rest of him said screw it, why
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bother?
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Finally, long ingrained habit won out. He lurched over to the phone
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and yanked the reciever off the cradle. Placing it to his mouth, he offered
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the most cheery greeting his jangled mind could come up with.
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"Go fuck yourself."
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There was moment's hesitation before a familiar male voice came out of
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the other end. "Harold! How ya doin'?"
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"Hi, Tom." Harold sighed. Tom was Harold's best friend and a devout
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hedonist, to boot. "I'm doing fine. Just don't feel like getting out much
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in this heat, is all."
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"Yeah, right." Tom said in a voice that made it perfectly clear he
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didn't believe a word of it. "Well, shit, man, you need to get out
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sometimes, before you start to grow cobwebs or something. And I got just
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the thing..."
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Harold silently groaned and rubbeed his temples. The only thing he
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wanted was to be left alone. One of Tom's 'just the thing' ideas was the
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last thing he needed right now. "Uh, look, maybe later-"
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"Later my ass!" The voice on the other end roared. "I know what
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happened. Kelly told me." Harold's eyes widened but he really wasn't
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surprised. He fully expected Cindi to blab to everyone who would sit still
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long enough to listen. He tried to imagine that Cindy was sitting in front
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of him instead of the TV and suddenly his hands fairly itched for that
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sledgehammer.
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Tom continued, "Shit, man, something like that would've killed me.
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Cindi has got to be the most twisted bitch I have ever heard of. Nobody has
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a right to do that to somebody else."
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"Yeah, I ain't too happy about it either. But I can't do anything, so
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how about I call you later-"
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"I ain't done yet." Tom interrupted firmly. "You've got to get out of
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there and back into circulation. You stay in that dark house much longer,
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you're going to do something stupid." Harold felt a sudden shock. What had
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he been thinking? He had twelve payments to go on the TV yet. Suddenly the
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beer and lemonade in his stomach began to churn.
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"Look, Harold, I'm your buddy. It hurts me to see what she's done to
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you. I wanna help, and I think I know the best way to do it. There's a
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party going on Saturday afternoon at this place I know over in Squirrel
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Heights. Right off Wanker street. The whole gang's gonna be there, along
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with a bunch of other people I don't know. Lots of available girls, I hear.
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Hoping to add a couple to my collection myself. I think you ought to go
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with me. Keep me from getting in too much trouble."
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Harold's voice was thick as he struggled with his gorge. "I... I don't
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know..."
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"Aw, c'mon. I want you there. You don't have to do anything or talk to
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anybody if you don't want. Just soak up some rays and good feelings. I
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ain't heard of anybody going away from a West Side Party feeling bad."
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"Well..."
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"It's settled, then." Tom concluded, perhaps a bit prematurely. "I'll
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be by about noon Saturday, and you can ride with me. I know you don't
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drink, and I could use somebody sober to drive me home. If I go home at
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all. If not, you can use the car. Sound good?"
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Harold had his voice under control and was actually feeling a bit
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better. Tom's nonstop talking had distracted him from the full impact of
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the crisis, and his depression was beginning to lift a bit. "Sure, why not?
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Should I bring anything?"
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"Toothbrush and a change of shorts, maybe."
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They talked for a few more minutes and when Harold finally hung up, he
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felt immensely better. He had felt so alone not long ago. It was good to be
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reminded he had friends. Maybe with their help he could pull through this
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depression and come out a whole human being once again. But that was still
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a ways off.
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In the meantime, he tidied the house up. Lastly he came to the
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collection of bottles from his binge that morning. He was astonished to
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discover how much of that stuff he had drunk. Thinking about it reminded
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him just how awful the stuff really was. He hiccuped once and ran for the
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bathroom, hand over his mouth.
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He almost made it.
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3
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The week wore on and Willyville got even hotter, if such a thing was
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possible. It also got weirder, and many had considered that impossible,
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too.
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During the daytime the streets were like that of a ghost town, as
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everybody remained inside with shades closed to beat the heat.
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Air-conditioners became the number one most stolen item in the city,
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beating out televisions by a wide margin. It made sense of a sort, after
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all, you don't even need to get inside the house to steal one. Many a
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homeowner returned from work in the evening to find a large hole in the
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wall where the family's most cherished appliance once rested and
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subsequently broke down in tears. However, the chief of police had a sudden
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brainstorm that guaranteed a quick end to this new and despicable crime
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wave. He promptly instructed all four hospitals in the Willyville area to
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inform the police of any emergency room cases involving hernias or slipped
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discs. When the anxious media questoned the chief of police on this new
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tactic, he simply replied that the results so far were "interesting".
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In other news, weather forcaster Bob Katt had been suspended for
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appearing on his show wearing boxer shorts, a tie, and nothing else. It
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seems the building's air-conditioning system had been stolen the previous
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night (an impressive feat in itself, considering that the compressor alone
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weighed half a ton) and Bob had refused to work in a suit in the stifling
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heat. So he had walked into the studio, dressed only in his skivvies, and
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up in front of the camera before any of the stunned studio crew could even
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think of stopping him. Of course, it would have been very bad form to yank
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him off the camera, so they simply let him do his broadcast. Once he was
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finished he was greeted by a purple faced station manager. Despite the
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indian pressure groups, Bob was still very popular in Willyville, so he was
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not fired on the spot.
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Instead, the station manager sent him on a long overdue vacation...
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---
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Saturday dawned bright, clear, and warm (surprise, surprise!). Harold
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was up with the sun, mostly because he hadn't slept at all the previous
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night. His stomach was a tight little knot and his heart would not stop
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pounding. He was having second thoughts about the party. Harold Sykes had
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never been a party animal, and recent... events... had convinced him that
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he would be very wise to stay away from certain segments of the human race
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(read: female) for a long time to come. In fact, now that he thought about
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it, he was rather frightened of them. After all, if he couldn't keep Cindi
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happy, would he be able to keep any woman happy? And there would be lots of
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girls there, probably all laughing at him. Why go?
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Then he thought about his depression of the last couple weeks. Tom had
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a point: right or wrong, he had to do something.
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Tom came by at 2:30 and picked Harold up. As they drove over to
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Squirrel Heights, Tom did most of the talking. Harold had lapsed into a
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moody silence, soaking up Tom's words and saying almost something in
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return. If Tom noticed, he didn't show it as he kept up a steady monologue
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all the way to the house.
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The Squirrel Heights Boarding house was a dumpy three story affair
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sitting in front of about two acres of worn out farmland. The place was run
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by an aging ex-stockbroker named Michael Wilburn, who believed in free
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expression of everything and threw wild parties as often as the house's
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budget would allow. Some of the parties were solely for the house's
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inhabitants, but most of them were for whoever wanted to come. Booze and
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most kinds of drugs generally circulated freely, and Harold had heard
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rumors even more outrageous than that. All in all, it was pretty
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intimidating to an introvert like Harold, and as he stepped out of Tom's
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car and looked at the peeling gray mass of the boarding house looming over
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him, and the virtual sea of cars surrounding it, he knew he had made a
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mistake. He as much as said so to Tom, who ignored him completely.
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The affair was already in progress, as he discovered when Tom led him
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around the back of the house. There must have been almost a hundred people
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there, engaged in all manner of outdoor activities. People everywhere,
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talking, yelling, running, horsing around, just generally having a good
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time. A table had been set up by the back door, and there was somebody
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serving booze and food to an endlessly regenerating queue.
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Harold looked around and noticed that Tom had abandoned him and was
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nowhere in sight. For an instant he almost panicked and yelled for Tom,
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then his rational mind took over. What's your problem? it said. You're an
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adult, you don't need a keeper.
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So Harold decided to walk around and see what he could see.
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In one corner a net had been set up for a vollyball game. There was a
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team on each side, if a pushing, laughing, staggering group of people could
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be called a team. Harold stood off to one side with a small group of
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spectators and watched. All of a sudden his attention had been captured by
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one particular member of one team.
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She wasn't tall, maybe five seven or so, buxom, and maybe a few pounds
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overweight. Which, as far as Harold was concerned, made her all the more
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nicely rounded. Her hair was blonde and fell down past her shoulders. Her
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face was pretty, but not spectacularly so. What had really caught Harold's
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attention was what she was wearing, or, more to the point, not wearing. She
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was dressed in frayed cutoff jeans that were so tight they had split along
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the sides halfway up her hips, and a string bikini top that struggled
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valiantly to hold up under the weight of enormous breasts. Harold glanced
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around and saw that she had the attention of pretty much every man in the
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crowd.
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His heart fluttered as he watched her move, and he couldn't help but
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wonder what it would be like to take her to bed. He imagined her long hair
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spread out over the pillow, glimmering faintly in the moonlight, those
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magnificent breasts moving in slow liquid motion as she arched her back in
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sheer pleasure, her frenzied gasps as she reached a sudden and powerful
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orgasm...
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Harold shook his head to clear it. Get real, he told himself. Someone
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like that certainly already has a boyfriend, and even if she didn't, why
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should she be interested in somebody like him? He turned around and began
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to make his way back towards the house.
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Sudden catcalls and whistles made him turn around again. She was
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sitting on the grass, apparently having just fallen. When she landed, the
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overburdened top string of her bikini had given way, exposing her for all
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the world to see.
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He could not help but stare. Her nipples stood out hard, the aurioles
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colored light rose pink. He ached to take them in his mouth, to feel their
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soft but firm weight in his hands. Then he looked up and saw she was
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staring directly at him.
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He locked eyes with her and suddenly his face turned beet red. Why, he
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didn't know, because surely every other male here was staring and thinking
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the same thoughts. She made no move to cover herself, she just sat there,
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challenging him with her gaze.
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Finally, Harold turned and pushed his way through the crowd. His heart
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was pounding in his ears and his balls, denied their release, ached
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miserably. He still had a raging hard-on and kept his hands in his pockets
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to conceal it. He felt sick, and ashamed. And he wanted to leave this
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instant.
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But that stare kept coming back to him. On reflection, he felt there
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was more than just a challenge in her eyes. What, he didn't know, but he
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somehow knew it. It was almost as if a spark had passed between them.
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Undoubtedly it was just his overworked imagination, but...
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He felt as if she wanted him, too.
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4
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Day gave way to night, as days usually do, and slowly Willyville began
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to cool off. People moved out of their stifling houses (except for those
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who hadn't had their air-conditioning stolen yet) and into their back
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yards. They brought TV trays, TV's, barbecues, bedrolls, and just generally
|
||
prepared to enjoy the night in relative coolness.
|
||
All over Willyville the night was alive with the sound of voices,
|
||
televisions, stereos, lustful moans and the other noises of humans enjoying
|
||
themselves outdoors. With one exception. In Squirrel Heights, all was
|
||
quiet. The place seemed deserted, in fact. Virtually all human life in the
|
||
area had gravitated to one spot. At the Squirrel Heights boarding house,
|
||
when night fell, the real party began...
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
Harold Sykes hadn't left the party like he planned, although he came
|
||
awful damn close to doing so when he spotted Cindi in the crowd. But, in
|
||
the end, the thought of going back to his lonely, empty, stuffy house was
|
||
just too much. So instead he wandered around the yard, just watching the
|
||
extraordinary panorama of human activity taking place before him.
|
||
Eventually he found a peaceful spot on the back porch where he just
|
||
sat and watched the sun set. Tom came by and asked him how he was doing.
|
||
"Better." sighed Harold, "I really feel better."
|
||
Tom gave him a wink. "You may be feeling better than that before the
|
||
night's over, old buddy." and sauntered off before Harold could say
|
||
anything.
|
||
Now what was that supposed to mean?
|
||
As it got dark, the party outside thinned out. A few left, spinning
|
||
their wheels in the gravel lot out front, but most just went inside the
|
||
house. Probably gonna booze it up good, Harold thought, Although it looked
|
||
to him like they had been boozing more than adequetely already. Harold
|
||
didn't feel like drinking very much, especially after his binge the other
|
||
day. Drugs didn't hold much of an attraction for him, either. Just sitting
|
||
there, alone with his thoughts, seemed to do quite a bit for him.
|
||
Eventually he awoke from his musings and was startled to find he was
|
||
alone. With a sigh he got up and went in through the back door.
|
||
The back hallway was unlit. There was the low murmur of voices and
|
||
music coming from somewhere ahead. He could make out dim light from around
|
||
a corner in the distance. Cautiously he made his way down the hallway,
|
||
hoping nothing solid was in the way of his shins.
|
||
Eventually he made his way to the light, and when he turned the corner
|
||
he recieved the shock of his life.
|
||
The front room was spacious and poorly lit. But the light was more
|
||
than adequete for Harold to see what was going on. There was about twenty
|
||
to thirty people sprawled about the room, all naked, contorted in every
|
||
kind of sexual position imaginable. And a couple that weren't imaginable.
|
||
Harold could only stare dumbly. The floor was almost lost amongst the
|
||
moving, writhing bodies. There were six people on the couch, in some
|
||
bizarre group contortion that made them look like something from another
|
||
planet. One man sat moaning softly in an easy chair with a hard-on that
|
||
Harold would have sworn was twelve inches long, at least. He watched in
|
||
total amazement as all twelve inches dissappeared into the mouth of the
|
||
co-ed sitting on the floor between the man's feet.
|
||
The blonde he had seen earlier was conspicuously absent.
|
||
He heard creaking above him, and he looked up. In the rafters, some
|
||
twelve feet above, a rope and pully setup had been arranged with a large
|
||
wicker basket. Three people were in the basket, which swung back and forth
|
||
alarmingly. Harold quickly moved several feet over, out from under the
|
||
setup.
|
||
His head was spinning. His experience with sex had always been
|
||
limited, and now he was confronted with a full-fledged orgy. It was too
|
||
much. He didn't want any part of this. All he wanted was out.
|
||
Watching his step carefully, he made his way for the nearest door. He
|
||
was almost there when he saw the one thing he *knew* he didn't want to
|
||
see.
|
||
There was a clear spot at the far end of the room. Only two people
|
||
were there, a man flat on his back with a woman sitting astride his hips,
|
||
moving up and down in sensuous rhythem. He didn't know who the guy was but
|
||
he knew the girl. Cindi. Pain that had been mercifully submerged now rose
|
||
to stab arrowlike into his guts. Cindi turned her head at that instant and
|
||
their eyes met. Instant recognition and something spiteful and unpleasant
|
||
glittered in her eyes for a brief second, and then she turned her attention
|
||
back to what she was doing. Her movements became more frantic, and her
|
||
moans much louder, exaggerating as much as possible.
|
||
Her parting words rang in his mind: "I want a man, dammit!" Well,
|
||
fine. All Harold wanted was out. He averted his eyes and ran blindly
|
||
towards the closest exit. He stumbled over one couple on the way (startling
|
||
them into a premature orgasm) and mumbled apologies as he kept going.
|
||
Then he was in a hallway, but not the one he had come from. Doors
|
||
lined the hall on both sides. He grabbed one and pulled it open, only to be
|
||
rewarded with several outraged yells. Redfaced and near tears from
|
||
embarassment, he pulled the door shut and looked around desperately. And
|
||
empty room, anything, just so he could get out of sight and get his
|
||
thoughts together. If he didn't do it quick, he feared he might lost his
|
||
mind. He had to get away, somehow!
|
||
There, at the end of the hall. An open door, the room dark within. He
|
||
paused at the doorway for a second, but could detect no movement within.
|
||
Empty, thank God! He slammed the door shut behind him and let the blackness
|
||
envelop him as he sank to the floor with a hoarse sob. He lay in a heap for
|
||
who knew how long before he finally calmed down.
|
||
His heart gave a sudden leap as he somehow realized, in the total
|
||
darkness, that that the room wasn't empty after all. After a long moment,
|
||
he finally summoned up a weak voice. "Who's there?"
|
||
There was a longer silence, and he almost began to hope he was alone
|
||
after all, when a soft voice answered "Are you all right?"
|
||
Fuck NO! I ain't all right, you stupid... But Harold controlled
|
||
himself before replying, "I will be, eventually. In about fifty years or
|
||
so." He hesitated before the next question, "Are you, um, alone?"
|
||
"Yeah." she replied, "I just wanted to be by myself. I kinda outgrew
|
||
the scene out front a long time ago. All the interesting guys already have
|
||
somebody. There was one guy, but I think he went home or something."
|
||
Harold got up, a little unsteadily "I'm sorry. Sorry I barged in on
|
||
you. I'll leave now."
|
||
"Please, don't." she said, "Unless you really need to. I think we
|
||
could both use someone to talk to."
|
||
Harold sat back down against the wall with a weary sigh. "Sure, why
|
||
not?" After a silent moment, he continued, "Would you mind turning on a
|
||
light? I'd like to see who I'm talking to."
|
||
"Well," she began doubtfully, "you may feel more comfortable without
|
||
the light, but if you insist..." There was a click and a flare of light
|
||
exploded into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. When he could open his
|
||
eyes, he recieved the last shock of a very long day.
|
||
Standing by a lamp on the dresser was the blonde from the vollyball
|
||
game, still dressed in the frayed shorts but minus the bikini top, which
|
||
lay discarded on the bed. She had her eyes screwed shut against the light,
|
||
opening them a moment later.
|
||
"Oh! It's you!"
|
||
|
||
|
||
5
|
||
|
||
It took a moment for Harold to recover from his surprise. He swallowed
|
||
drylysand said, "So, I guess we meet again."
|
||
She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, seemingly
|
||
unconcerned over her partial nudity. She made no attempt to cover herself
|
||
at all. "I remember you from the crowd at the vollyball game. When I lost
|
||
my top I was embarassed as hell, but I was going to be damned if I'd let
|
||
anyone see that. I saw every male in the crowd was drooling, but when I
|
||
looked around and saw you... there was something else in your eyes. You
|
||
looked so incredibly sad."
|
||
"I didn't know it showed." Harold mumbled. "I was... well... thinking
|
||
just about the same thing as everybody else." He turned red and averted his
|
||
eyes in shame.
|
||
"Oh, I know that." she replied matter-of-factly "I've been getting
|
||
looks like that since I was twelve years old. I'm used to getting stared at
|
||
and hit on a lot, so I just learned to deal with it without getting mad.
|
||
Actually, it does a lot for my ego. I don't know what it was, though, but
|
||
you really stood out in that crowd, at least to me. I've always been good
|
||
at picking up feelings."
|
||
"And you felt sorry for me." Harold said baldly. He should have known
|
||
he had misinterpreted that look. "When our eyes met that time, I almost
|
||
thought, well..."
|
||
She smiled and patted a place on the bed next to her. "Why not come
|
||
over here and sit down? You can't be too comfortable all curled up in a
|
||
ball in the corner."
|
||
Harold sighed and got up painfully. She was right. It wasn't too
|
||
comfortable. He sat on the bed about two feet away from her. It took
|
||
considerable effort to keep his eyes off her chest. He was surprised to
|
||
find his mouth had gone dry and his heart was pounding. "Um, can I ask a
|
||
question?"
|
||
"Sure" She answered.
|
||
"If you were so, um, embarassed when you lost your top earlier, why
|
||
aren't you wearing it now?"
|
||
"Because it's uncomfortable. The damn string's been digging into my
|
||
neck all day and it's sore as hell." she lifted her hair up and showed him
|
||
a red weal as the base of her neck. "I should have worn a nice, sensable
|
||
tank top. And I was embarassed because I got caught by surprise. Otherwise
|
||
I wouldn't have cared. I'm not ashamed of my body at all. Does this bother
|
||
you?"
|
||
"No." Harold said quickly. Then he reconsidered. "Well, a little."
|
||
"See?" she smiled, "I told you you might like it better with the light
|
||
off."
|
||
"Oh, not at all." Harold said hurredly, "They're definitely worth
|
||
looking at." then he winced, realizing what he said. "I mean, YOU'RE
|
||
definitely worth-"
|
||
But she was laughing, a very pretty sound indeed. She waved him off,
|
||
"I know what you meant. I'm flattered, really. You know, red's your color."
|
||
she said, making Harold blush even harder. "But that's nasty of me."
|
||
The talk died off and the silence stretched between them like putty as
|
||
they both sat alone with their thoughts. Finally she said, almost shyly,
|
||
"You know, I didn't entirely feel sorry for you. You're not that bad
|
||
looking." Harold looked at her wonderingly. She moved over until she was
|
||
right next to him. "Don't get me wrong, you're no Tom Selleck or anything,
|
||
but I decided a long time ago that most of the really good looking guys are
|
||
too hung up on themselves to give a woman the attention she wants. You seem
|
||
really nice."
|
||
Her shoulder and hip pressed against his warmly. Her weight on the bed
|
||
pulling him towards her, her very presence, that oh so luscious body, all
|
||
burned in his mind like a red-hot firebrand. Almost without thinking, he
|
||
put an arm around her shoulders. "And I think you're very beautiful. What
|
||
else can I say?" his other hand came up and froze, uncertainly. Her eyes
|
||
locked on his and without a word she reached up placed his hand on her bare
|
||
breast.
|
||
"Why say anything?" and she silenced any possible reply with an open
|
||
mouthed kiss.
|
||
He massaged her breast tenderly, feeling it's weight, it's smoothness,
|
||
running his thumb gently over the rapidly hardening nipple. Her tongue
|
||
darted playfully into his mouth, only to retreat. Then it came out again
|
||
more slowly and met with his, intertwining in powerful intimacy that made
|
||
his head spin. Then she withdrew slowly.
|
||
Ending the kiss, he ran his open mouth gently down along the line of
|
||
her jaw, to her ear, which he explored, making her giggle. He moved to her
|
||
neck, taking a moment to kiss away the pain of the weal there, before
|
||
moving farther down.
|
||
Nor was she idle while he did this. Her hands ran along his sides, up
|
||
under his shirt, exploring. Then she reached down and undid his pants,
|
||
reaching inside to caress his blossoming erection with a light, tingling
|
||
touch.
|
||
He had moved down to her chest now, and he roamed freely with his
|
||
tongue, using a feathery touch that made her shiver. Around and around the
|
||
curving softness of her breast, finally centering on the fully erect
|
||
nipple, which he plunged into his mouth, sucking gently. Again and again he
|
||
did this, finally moving over to the other side. His hands explored her
|
||
back, her sides, her thighs, moving with smooth surety.
|
||
With a sigh she reclined back onto the bed, grasping the zipper on her
|
||
cut-offs and pulling it down slowly. The fabric parted gladly, after
|
||
straing all day to hold together, and golden feathery pubic hair poked
|
||
through the gap, glimmering faintly in the light from the dresser lamp. She
|
||
grasped the sides of the shorts and pulled them down over her long legs,
|
||
finally kicking them off onto the floor. Harold was not surprised at all to
|
||
see she wore no underwear. With a great sigh she stretched out on the bed,
|
||
glorious in her nakedess. Harold could only stare until she looked back at
|
||
him and said, "Well...?"
|
||
He hesitated for the slightest of instances. Something deep inside his
|
||
mind gibbered. This is just like before, it said. Get out of here now. Get
|
||
out before you humiliate yourself again! Now, fool!
|
||
And he almost listened. Almost, until something much older and
|
||
stronger took control of his thoughts and squashed the voice completely.
|
||
All doubt dissappeared as he stripped off all his clothes, put the light
|
||
out, and climbed onto the bed.
|
||
"Why did you turn off the light?" she asked in a breathy voice.
|
||
"Why not? Habit, I guess." he replied, turning his attentions back to
|
||
her. Suddenly he stopped, "I just realized, I don't know your name."
|
||
"I was wondering when you would get around to that." she said. "I'm
|
||
Julie."
|
||
"Pleased to meet you, Julie. I'm Harol... Harry." On a moment of
|
||
whimsey, he added, "Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
|
||
"Sure." She replied, "But right now let's fuck." And they both broke
|
||
up laughing.
|
||
But the laughter quickly faded as Harry returned to the matter at
|
||
hand. With his mouth and hands he continued to explore the soft curves of
|
||
her body, her hips, her navel, slowly, inexhorably moving towards one
|
||
definite spot. His fingers playfully toyed with her pubic hair as he moved
|
||
his tongue slowly up along her inner thigh. Her breathing had speeded up
|
||
noticably as she bent her knees and spread her legs. Harry settled himself
|
||
down with his face between her thighs. His fingers pulled aside the labia,
|
||
exposing the delicate folds of flesh within. Gently he began to probe
|
||
inside with his tongue.
|
||
Her breathing became even more rapid and her hips began to move up and
|
||
down in sensuous rhythem. His tongue explored deeper until he found what he
|
||
was looking for, the fleshy knob of the clitoris. His nose pressed hard
|
||
against her pube, he circled the clitoris gently, over and over again. Then
|
||
he would flick it playfully with the tip of his tongue, then caress it
|
||
warmly.
|
||
Her gasps became moans, first breathy, then louder as her hips moved
|
||
even more violently. She ran one hand through his hair while pressing the
|
||
other against her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the noise. "Oh God,"
|
||
she moaned, "That feels so goooood..."
|
||
Harry would have said something in reply, but it was bad manners to
|
||
talk with your mouth full.
|
||
Not that it would be full much longer. Her moans had become cries that
|
||
she was powerless to silence. Her hips moved so violently that he had a
|
||
difficult time keeping his tongue where it belonged and he held onto her
|
||
thighs to keep her steady. The more excited she became, the farther her
|
||
clit poked out of its fleshy covering, and the easier it was to torment it.
|
||
Then her cries suddenly silenced as every muscle in her body locked and her
|
||
hips rose high off the bed, carrying Harry with them. For a timeless second
|
||
she remained like that, every muscle quivering in an explosive orgasm,
|
||
before settling back on the bed with a mighty groan.
|
||
Wow, he thought. Cindi never got off like that. Experimentally he
|
||
probed with his tongue again. She almost jumped off the bed. "No! Stop,
|
||
please... No more..." she pleaded in an exhausted whisper. Slowly Harry
|
||
uncurled himself and crawled up to rest beside her. He ran a hand along her
|
||
skin, which was cold and beaded with sweat. She rolled onto her side and
|
||
threw an arm around him, burying her face in his chest. She was shaking
|
||
like a leaf. He hugged her tight to him until the trembling subsided.
|
||
Finally she said "That was good." She ran a hand down to his belly to
|
||
his penis. His erection had wilted, and she began to massage some life back
|
||
into it. It was not long at all before he was hard again, and she ran her
|
||
fingers tantalizingly along the length of his hard-on. She rolled onto her
|
||
back again, pulling him on top of her with surprising strength. "I want
|
||
you. Now!"
|
||
The little man spoke up in his mind again, telling him he was walking
|
||
into disaster, but Harry ignored it as she guided his penis into her. He
|
||
thrust deep, and she gasped. "Still touchy." she breathed into his ear.
|
||
He thrust again and again, in and out, as her hips moved in time with
|
||
his own. With one hand he supported himself while the other ran along her
|
||
side, feeling her body. Her mouth met his in a deep kiss.
|
||
Too soon, much too soon, he felt the pleasure building. It mounted
|
||
higher and higher, until he knew he was going to come. He rested for a
|
||
moment until it died back, but it returned with twice the ferocity as soon
|
||
as he began pumping again. He tried to will it back, to force it down, but
|
||
the pleasure quickly grew out of control. He groaned through clenched teeth
|
||
at an explosion of pleasure as his seed shot into the warm depths of her
|
||
body. She held him tight as the echoes faded and Harold began to relax.
|
||
As the pleasure faded, fear replaced it. Now was the moment of truth.
|
||
Was she going to accept him or explode with rage? He pulled out and lay
|
||
down beside her, trembling slightly.
|
||
She noticed something was wrong right away. "What is it?"
|
||
"Nothing." he mumbled.
|
||
"Don't give me that. You just withdrew into yourself like a turtle in
|
||
a shell. What are you afraid of?"
|
||
He swallowed hard "I thought you might get mad. Because... because I
|
||
couldn't last very long. I was premature."
|
||
"What are you talking about?" she asked, "That was fantastic! I
|
||
haven't got off that hard in a long time. What-" Suddenly an idea began to
|
||
form. "Harry, what was it you were so upset about when you first came in
|
||
here?"
|
||
Harold told her about Cindi. It took much coaxing to get the whole
|
||
truth out, as the pain had not diminished after all.
|
||
After he finished, she was silent for a long time. Finally she said,
|
||
"I almost can't believe somebody could do that to another person. Almost. I
|
||
know Cindi. She's pretty fuckin' shallow and self-centered. How on earth
|
||
did you ever get tangled up with her anyway?"
|
||
"I don't know." Harold said in a flat, lifeless voice. "I used to
|
||
think she was something special. I was in love. I thought she loved me."
|
||
"I don't think the bitch knows what love is." Julie thought for a long
|
||
moment. "There's only one thing to do. We're going to have to get you over
|
||
this little problem of yours. And I think I know just the person to do
|
||
it."
|
||
Harold lifted his head up to stare at her outline in the darkness.
|
||
"You know somebody who can fix it?"
|
||
"This guy can fix anything. He knows more about sex than Dr. Ruth.
|
||
He'll know what to do. And then you can show that bitch what's what."
|
||
"I don't know..." Harold began doubtfully.
|
||
"You don't have to know." she concluded for him. "I do."
|
||
They lay together for a long time. Finally she said, "Ready for
|
||
another one?"
|
||
"Another what?" Harold asked innocently.
|
||
"Come on, now. You've had plenty of time to recover." She began
|
||
stroking his penis, which was beginning to swell. "See what I mean?"
|
||
He felt the heat returning as he caressed her breast. "Well, if you
|
||
insist..."
|
||
"Of course I insist. You know what they say."
|
||
"No, what do they say?" Harold asked as he moved on top of her.
|
||
"It's usually better the second time around..."
|
||
And it was.
|
||
|
||
|
||
6
|
||
|
||
Sunday. Squirrel Heights. By noon, the temperature hit 100 degrees.
|
||
The misery at the boarding house was more acute than usual, as hangovers
|
||
didn't mix with the heat at all. Also, because about five times as many
|
||
people as usual had spent the night there, the place needed a good airing
|
||
out. Especially the front room...
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
Michael Wilburn was fifty one years old and solidly built. Though
|
||
balding, his hair showed not a trace of gray and there was a mischevious
|
||
gleam in his eye when he smiled that showed that he had not yet surrendered
|
||
to his years and probably never will. He was handsome in an offhanded sort
|
||
of way, and had an easy, outgoing matter. He had once been an economics
|
||
professor at the local university, until he decided to apply some of his
|
||
theories to the stock market and found himself comfortably rich within a
|
||
year. Students who once avoided his classes like the plague now begged him
|
||
to return to teaching. He always got quite a laugh out of that. Despite
|
||
some trepidation when Julie had introduced them, Harold was surprised to
|
||
find he liked Michael almost immediately.
|
||
They sat at opposite ends of a study on the third floor, Harold in a
|
||
ratty old easy chair, Michael crosslegged on a small pile of pillows. The
|
||
air in the room was leaden, stiflingly hot. The only light streamed in
|
||
through a half-shuttered window and striped the floor between them. Harold
|
||
wiped sweat off his brow every few minutes, but his host seemed affected
|
||
not at all by the heat.
|
||
Opening up to a stranger is always hard, but hope forced Harold along.
|
||
Haltingly at first, then more freely with Michael's gentle prodding, he
|
||
told the whole tale. Strange, but it was much easier than the previous
|
||
night he had told it to Julie in bed. He began to wonder if maybe his
|
||
manhood wasn't really in question after all.
|
||
After Harold was finished, there was silence for a long time. Michael
|
||
sat with his eyes closed, digesting information, perhaps. Finally, he
|
||
spoke.
|
||
"I see your problem, but I don't think you do. Control is not the real
|
||
problem here. You, sir, are attempting to define yourself by your sexual
|
||
ability."
|
||
Harold gaped at him for a long moment. "I don't understand."
|
||
"Simple. This Cindi person did nothing more than verbally assault your
|
||
abilities in bed. A painful experience, yes, but not one that should
|
||
trigger such a deep depression unless a problem already existed. You are
|
||
placing far more emphasis on sex than is healthy for you. Tell me, how
|
||
would you feel if I told you Julie was married?"
|
||
Harold felt an icy hand clutch his heart as he shivered in the
|
||
sweltering heat. "She-she is? But what happened last night..."
|
||
"Well, she's separated, actually. She had planned a reconciliation
|
||
last night at the party, but her husband never showed up. She just learned
|
||
this morning that he was in the emergency room at Central hospital with a
|
||
hernia. I believe the police have taken an interest in the matter, for some
|
||
strange reason. All this could have had something to do with what
|
||
happened."
|
||
And she had never said a word about it, while Harold had blubbered all
|
||
over the place about his own problems.
|
||
Michael interrupted his thoughts. "But you did not answer my question.
|
||
Does it bother you that she has a marriage she is trying to reconcile?"
|
||
The words were like nails being hammered into Harold's heart. "Well...
|
||
shit. I guess it does..."
|
||
"Why?" Michael asked mildly.
|
||
Taken aback, Harold replied, "Well... after what happened last night I
|
||
was hoping I'd found... She's an incredible woman."
|
||
"Whom you've known only a few hours." Michael finished for him. "What
|
||
you found was a chance to redeem yourself, and, from what you've told me,
|
||
you've done that admirably. You've totally disproved everything this Cindi
|
||
person told you, yet still you are not happy. You believe that gaining the
|
||
ability to postpone orgasm is the only thing that will confirm your
|
||
manhood." His next words were emphasized so as to avoid any chance of
|
||
misunderstanding: "Bullshit."
|
||
Harold blinked rapidly "I don't understand."
|
||
Michael sighed. "Harold, my boy, the only person in the world who can
|
||
confirm your manhood is you. What is the definition of manhood, anyway?
|
||
I've heard many definitions, and few of them have anything to do with
|
||
sex."
|
||
"But..." Harold stammered, still confused. "You won't help?"
|
||
Michael was about to say he didn't think Harold needed any. Then he
|
||
closed his mouth and thought a moment. Harold probably wouldn't listen.
|
||
Michael sensed something in this young man, something he didn't see very
|
||
often. Harold was obviously very intelligent, as well as in a lot of pain.
|
||
He could get a lot out of life if he ever got the courage to crawl out from
|
||
under his rock of self-pity. All he really needed was the right kind of
|
||
guidance, and Michael never had been one to resist trying to help.
|
||
"I may help." Michael said at last. "How far are you willing to go?"
|
||
"Well..." Harold thought for a moment, more confused than ever. "As...
|
||
far as I have to." he finally replied.
|
||
Michael stared at him for a long time, taking his measure. Finally, he
|
||
sighed. "Very well. I have a vacant room you may stay in. You will need to
|
||
move your belongings there. The room and board will be free of charge, at
|
||
least for now." He leaned forward again. "Your life is going to change
|
||
drastically. Just remember what you said."
|
||
Harold swallowed hard. He was no longer confused.
|
||
He was frightened.
|
||
|
||
|
||
7
|
||
|
||
Two weeks passed. They passed slowly, but hardly peacefully. The
|
||
daytime temperature remained in the 100's, and things were heating up in
|
||
more ways than one:
|
||
The Willyville Nudist Society, despite warnings from the police,
|
||
persisted in their activities. Walks, swims, gardening, any outdoor
|
||
activity that could be was performed in the nude in the scorching sunshine.
|
||
After the first fifty busts or so, the police decided it was a lost cause
|
||
and just ignored the whole thing. After all, they still had the
|
||
air-conditioner thieves to catch. The nudists were easy to spot even with
|
||
their clothes on, as they had tans so deep they bordered on sunburns. But
|
||
then a medical segment on the local news mentioned something that put the
|
||
whole thing into a new light...
|
||
Skin cancer.
|
||
Terror spread through the naturist community as fast as the phone
|
||
could carry the news, and the next day the Willyville Nudist Society
|
||
disbanded, only to be replaced by the Willyville Overcoat Society. That's
|
||
right, every single one of the ex-nudists were bundled up in long coats and
|
||
large hats every time they set foot outside. Within 48 hours the hospitals
|
||
reported 19 cases of heat stroke. The doctors and nurses of the Willyville
|
||
medical community were beginning to wish they had the luxury of taking long
|
||
overdue vacations...
|
||
On a more positive note, the Willyville air conditioner crime wave
|
||
ended in a rather spectacular way. Elmo Burns had taken a sick day from the
|
||
sawmill and was busily enjoying X-rated videotapes in the privacy of his
|
||
own home (as was his constitutional right) when he heard strange noises
|
||
coming from the direction of the air-conditioner. Already suspicious, he
|
||
pulled up his pants, grabbed his over-and-under shotgun, went out the front
|
||
door, and snuck around to the back of the house. Sure enough, there was a
|
||
man standing on a short stepladder, trying to lever the air-conditioner
|
||
loose with a crowbar. Obviously, he thought Elmo was away at work,
|
||
overlooking Elmo's Ford 4X4 sitting square in the driveway. Elmo figured
|
||
that the subtle approach would just be wasted on someone this dumb, so he
|
||
announced his presence by letting the would-be thief have it right in the
|
||
ass with both barrels at close range.
|
||
Elmo's shotgun had been loaded with hand-made shells containing, not
|
||
buckshot, but rock salt and bacon rinds, which had been his daddy's
|
||
solution for kids who stole crops from the fields. The attack was not
|
||
lethal, but the crook was still quite immobilized (to say the least) when
|
||
the police arrived. The detective in charge of the thefts saw that a golden
|
||
opportunity had arisen to bring this mess to a halt once and for all. He
|
||
took the wounded thief downtown instead of to the hospital and directly to
|
||
an interrogation room. There, being held down on a hard wooden chair by two
|
||
burly officers, it took the screaming thief less than fifteen seconds to
|
||
decide to roll over on the rest of his gang. Within the hour they were all
|
||
rounded up, along with a small warehouse full of air conditioners, which
|
||
had turned out to be a bit harder to fence that they anticipated.
|
||
The chief of police announced the news from the steps of City Hall to
|
||
a cheering crowd of over a thousand sweating theft victims. But there was
|
||
one small snag. Somebody asked when the air conditioners would be returned
|
||
to their anxious owners. The chief paused for a second, swallowed hard,
|
||
then confessed that they would all have to be held over as evidence for the
|
||
trial--which was scheduled to begin in six weeks.
|
||
The riot that ensued would best be left to the reader's
|
||
imagination...
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
"Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Michael crooned, sitting
|
||
crosslegged in the middle of the floor.
|
||
"Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Harold aped, sitting in an
|
||
identical position in across from him.
|
||
"Repeat after me." Michael said quietly. "Owha..."
|
||
"Owha..."
|
||
"Tajer..."
|
||
"Tajer..."
|
||
"Kiyam."
|
||
"Kiyam."
|
||
"Now repeat the whole thing." Michael said.
|
||
"Ohwa... Tajer... Kiyam..." Harold droned, eyes closed.
|
||
Michael got up a bit stiffly, and said, "I'll be back in a few
|
||
minutes. Keep repeating this, a little faster each time, until I return."
|
||
and closed the door quietly behind him. He limped down to the kitchen (that
|
||
lotus position gets harder on the knees every year) and grabbed a couple
|
||
beers.
|
||
As expected, when he got back, Harold was not chanting. Instead he
|
||
glared at Michael with all the indignity he could muster. "Very funny."
|
||
Michael sat in the recliner. "That, my dear boy, was the Tibetian
|
||
Mantra for Self Realization." He grinned, "Sorry, I just couldn't resist.
|
||
Besides, if you really were a jerk, you would have still been chanting when
|
||
I got back, and then I'd have *known* there was no hope for you."
|
||
Harold glared a moment longer, then they both broke up laughing.
|
||
Wiping a tear from his eye, Harold said, "Still, it was a cheap shot."
|
||
Michael leaned forward, offering Harold a beer. "Actually, it was
|
||
intended to illustrate a serious point. To wit: just because you've fooled
|
||
yourself into believing something, that doesn't mean it's true."
|
||
Harold popped the top on the can, which promptly foamed into his lap.
|
||
"Shit." he grunted, looking around for a towel. "You mean I've been wasting
|
||
my time this last two weeks with all this meditation stuff?"
|
||
"Not at all. You are becoming quite adept at controlling your
|
||
voluntary reactions and senses. You haven't complained about the heat here
|
||
at all for the last several days." Now that Harold thought about it, he
|
||
really wasn't feeling the heat at all. Michael continued, "In fact, I've
|
||
never seen anyone advance so fast. No, I'd say you're well on your way to
|
||
conquering your ejaculation problem. It's your other problem I'm really
|
||
concerned about."
|
||
"Oh? And just what problem is that?" Harold asked suspiciously.
|
||
"I think you know what I'm talking about. Your insistance that you
|
||
define your sexual abilities by the ability to postpone orgasm. I think
|
||
you're going to find that that doesn't mean very much in the real world.
|
||
What you're really lacking is confidence and self-knowledge. You need to
|
||
know your capabilites and trust in them in order to BE capable. Being able
|
||
to have intercourse as long as you like is a fine thing, but you're going
|
||
to find that not that many women are going to be impressed by that ability
|
||
alone."
|
||
Harold was shaken. "You mean this isn't going to solve my problem?"
|
||
Michael rolled his eyes upwards. "At last he begins to see the light.
|
||
I talked to Julie the other day and she says-"
|
||
"You've talked to her?" Harold interrupted anxiously. "Where is she?
|
||
How's she doing?"
|
||
"Calm down, calm down. She's doing fine, she just has a few things to
|
||
work out. She actually called to see how you're doing. Apparently that
|
||
night you shared together has affected her as strongly as it did you."
|
||
Harold's eyes became dreamy "Wow."
|
||
"Anyway," Michael continued drily, "as I was saying, Julie commented
|
||
that your abilities were quite remarkable. Yet you persist in believing
|
||
that you are inadequete, just because one person told you that you were.
|
||
That shows a very serious lack of self confidence. Do you see what I'm
|
||
saying?"
|
||
Harold thought it over a long moment. "Maybe... But how do I get this
|
||
confidence?"
|
||
"You have to know yourself." Michael concluded. "And doing this is not
|
||
the easiest thing in the world. You have to go out and do things. You have
|
||
to explore. If you just sit around being a mass of untapped potential then
|
||
you will never know what that potential is. You cannot be confident in
|
||
something you do not know."
|
||
"Okay," Harold said, a bit confused, "So what's all this got to do
|
||
with what's going on right now?"
|
||
"I'm glad you asked. I think it's time we tested some of that
|
||
potential right now." Michael got up and opened the door. "Diane," he
|
||
called. A moment later one of the most stunning women Harold had ever seen
|
||
in his life walked in. "Harold, this is Diane. Diane, Harold."
|
||
Diane offered her hand and Harold took it briefly. "Hello, Harold."
|
||
she said, in a low, husky voice. She stood about six inches shorter than he
|
||
did, and had a lithe, well-proportioned body. Harold felt almost helpless
|
||
to prevent his eyes from travelling downward, from her shoulder-length
|
||
auburn hair to small, pert breasts contained in a red tank-top to long,
|
||
tanned legs, very well set off by her rather brief white shorts. Suddenly,
|
||
self-consciously, he jerked back up where her beautiful hazel eyes met his
|
||
in a penetrating gaze. She slipped her hand from his and walked over to the
|
||
window, hips swaying just the right amount to hold his attention captive.
|
||
Then she turned back to him and stood there, one hand on cocked hip, fixing
|
||
him again with that gaze.
|
||
Harold swallowed hard and shoved one hand in his pocket, to conceal
|
||
the bulge that was growing there. There was nothing physically remarkable
|
||
about this woman. All her power and sexuality was in the way she moved, the
|
||
way she held herself. As Tom had often said: "It's not what you got so much
|
||
as how you show it." A wave of pure lust swept over Harold. He wanted this
|
||
woman more than any he had ever seen in his life, yet her self assurnace
|
||
frightened him, as if telling him this was more woman that he could ever
|
||
handle.
|
||
Then Michael cleared his throat and the spell snapped. Diane relaxed
|
||
and became a mere mortal again, leaning against the windowframe and
|
||
grinning like someone who had just played a grand joke. Harold felt as if
|
||
he had been doused with cold water from the inside out and the bulge in his
|
||
pants quickly receded. He swallowed drily. "That's... some act."
|
||
"Thanks." She said, her voice now quite ordinary. "I always get a kick
|
||
out of doing that. Before I came here, guys used to ignore me in droves.
|
||
Now I can get 'em drooling any time I please. I don't do it very often, but
|
||
it's nice to know that I can."
|
||
"Diane came here about four years ago." Michael said, in his best
|
||
college professor voice. "Her circumstances weren't all that different from
|
||
yours, in fact. She felt she had all kinds of faults and deficiencies, but
|
||
her biggest problem was that she simply didn't know herself. Under my
|
||
guidence, she quickly learned who she really was and what she could do." He
|
||
turned to her and asked, "What was it you were doing before you came here?
|
||
I forget."
|
||
She appeared to ponder it for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot
|
||
about it. I was waitressing down at Ptomaine Palace for minimum wage and
|
||
living with this guy who would slap me around because he said sex with me
|
||
was 'boring'. Finally the fucker ran off, leaving me with a lease I
|
||
couldn't afford to pay. My fondest fantasy is to track him down someday and
|
||
put his ass in the hospital." A feral gleam suddenly appeared in her eye
|
||
and Harold felt a chill running down his spine. "Anyway, after the landlord
|
||
threw me out a friend introduced me to Michael. After hearing my story he
|
||
gave me free room and board for as long as I needed it, and lectures every
|
||
day. After a while I quit resenting it and started to really listen to what
|
||
he was telling me. Now, in a couple months I'll be starting my junior year
|
||
at the university with a major in Engineering. And I owe it all to
|
||
Michael."
|
||
"Bullshit." Michael growled, sitting back down in his recliner. "You
|
||
owe it all to yourself. I just gave you a kick in the ass that got it
|
||
started. No excuse for letting yourself go to hell like that. None at all."
|
||
He paused for a moment. "Do you still want to do this?"
|
||
She looked Harold up and down appraisingly. "Sure. Might be
|
||
instructive all around."
|
||
Harold suddenly felt very alone and outnumbered. And a little worried.
|
||
"Um, somebody want to let me in on this?"
|
||
"Well," she said, walking over to Harold, "Mikey and I had a little
|
||
talk last night, and I had this idea to, you know, prove just how far along
|
||
you had come in conquering your little problem." She placed a hand on
|
||
Harold's shoulder and traced it, feather light, down his shirtfront to his
|
||
belt buckle, which she hooked a finger into and tugged gently.
|
||
Harold swallowed hard, wondering just how far he had gotten over his
|
||
head here. He looked over at Michael. Michael, who had winced visibly at
|
||
"Mikey," simply looked back and said nothing. No help there.
|
||
So he turned back to Diane. "Um, you mean here? Right now?"
|
||
"Sure." she said, tugging on his buckle again. "Why not?"
|
||
Then she was rubbing up against him, her arms around his neck. Their
|
||
mouths met in a long, breathtaking kiss. Harold's cock was as stiff as a
|
||
railroad spike, and it didn't help that Diane was grinding her hips against
|
||
his. She broke the kiss and ran her tongue slowly along Harold's jawline.
|
||
Planting little kisses along his neck, she slowly slid down his front,
|
||
maintaining maximum contact with her hands a body all the way. When she was
|
||
on her knees, her face level with his crotch, she began to work at his belt
|
||
buckle.
|
||
Oh, jeez, Harold thought, as he looked around frantically. Michael was
|
||
still watching, only his expression was intent. Harold got the distinct
|
||
feeling he was being *studied*.
|
||
Diane got Harold's belt unbuckled, undid the snap, and pulled the
|
||
zipper down. A white bulge immediately poked through, as his erection
|
||
strained to be free of his shorts. His pants fell to his ankles with a
|
||
jingle of change as Diane placed a hand on his covered bulge, massaging it
|
||
gently while she looked up into his eyes. Harold already felt waves of
|
||
massive pleasure surge up from his groin. She put her mouth over the tip of
|
||
the bulge and exhaled gently. Harold clearly felt the heat of her breath on
|
||
his cock, and moaned imperceptibly.
|
||
Then she grabbed the waistband of his briefs and began to slowly pull
|
||
them down, uncovering his erection inch by agonizing inch. The pounding in
|
||
his cock was matched by the pounding in his head as he felt the elastic
|
||
drag down along the length of his penis.
|
||
Then he was free, his cock standing stiffly erect for all the world to
|
||
see. He glanced over at Michael, but Michael didn't seem to be as
|
||
interested in the action as he was in Harold's face. Then Harold forgot all
|
||
about him as Diane extended her tongue and ran it up along his cock.
|
||
Then, without warning, she plunged it into her mouth. All the way in.
|
||
While Harold wasn't exceptionally large, he had still never met a woman who
|
||
could deep throat him before. The feeling was nothing short of amazing, as
|
||
the warm, slick wetness of her mouth enveloped his entire cock. The feeling
|
||
was intensely erotic, and Harold closed his eyes with a moan and rolled his
|
||
hips as he prepared to explode into her mouth.
|
||
A sudden, hard slap rocked his face. Shocked, he opened his eyes to
|
||
stare at Michael, who had bounded off his chair and stood just behind
|
||
Diane. "Harold," he said quietly, "if you ejaculate in her mouth, she will
|
||
bite your penis off."
|
||
At that moment, he felt a brief, sharp pain at the base of his cock as
|
||
she dug her teeth in very slightly, just as a hint, before resuming her
|
||
sucking with double the intensity.
|
||
Cold horror gripped Harold's heart. He had been a fraction of a second
|
||
away from coming before Michael slapped him, but the slap had brought him
|
||
well back from the edge. Still, Diane's oral talents were nothing short of
|
||
extraordinary and it would not be very long before he was back again. She
|
||
slid his cock in and out of her mouth while lightly caressing his balls
|
||
with one hand. The other hand slid between his legs and began to tease his
|
||
asshole with a finger. Already the pressure was beginning to build as
|
||
Harold frantically thought of a way to stop it.
|
||
In the midst of panic came a voice of calm. Your training, you idiot!
|
||
it said. That's it! Harold replied. He began to repeat the mantras Michael
|
||
had taught him over and over in his mind. Slowly, the real world began to
|
||
fade into the distance as he entered a trance. The sensations beneath his
|
||
belly eased to the point where he could contemplate them or dismiss them
|
||
altogether. His heart slowed and his pupils dialated as his mind entered an
|
||
alpha state. Within an amazingly short time he became pure ego, floating in
|
||
a sea of peace and serenity.
|
||
After what seemed a brief yet endless time his hindbrain became aware
|
||
that something changed and he resurfaced to conciousness, gazing at
|
||
Michael's gently smiling face. Harold looked down and saw that Diane had
|
||
stopped, and was sitting at his feet, massaging her jaw.
|
||
"Jeez." she said, "Thirty fucking minutes. Nobody's ever outlasted me
|
||
before." She looked up at him ruefully. "Mister, you are nothing short of
|
||
amazing."
|
||
Laughing, Michael clapped Harold hard on the back, almost making him
|
||
trip over his pants. He quickly pulled them up and refastened them. "Well,
|
||
my boy," Michael said, "I guess I'd pronounce you cured, at least by your
|
||
own standards."
|
||
Harold stood there, amazed. "I.. guess I really did it. I never
|
||
thought I would."
|
||
"I had no doubt." Michael said. "You have found one solution to your
|
||
problem. Not the best one, in my opinion, but a solution all the same. With
|
||
practice you shall find others, I'm sure."
|
||
Harold helped Diane to her feet. He looked her in the eye and asked,
|
||
"Would you really have...?"
|
||
She just smiled and said nothing.
|
||
Harold gulped and looked over at Michael. "Would she have?"
|
||
Michael just shrugged. "Beats me. And I suppose I should know if
|
||
anybody would. After all, she's my wife."
|
||
Harold's jaw dropped open. It stayed that way for a moment, until
|
||
Diane reached up and gently closed it. "You look cute when you're shocked."
|
||
she admitted. Then she gently tugged him towards the door.
|
||
"What are you doing?" he asked, still flabberghasted.
|
||
"I think we can find a more suitable place to finish what we
|
||
started..."
|
||
"But... but..." he looked over at Michael helplessly.
|
||
Michael just shrugged again, palms up. "She does as she wishes. And I
|
||
wouldn't have it any other way. You have passed an important hurdle today,
|
||
and a difficult one. You deserve a reward. Enjoy yourself. Both of you."
|
||
Harold was silenced, at least long enough for Diane to drag him out of
|
||
there and to his well-earned reward.
|
||
And what a reward it was!
|
||
|
||
|
||
8
|
||
|
||
In order to prevent an armed revolt by the citizenry, the mayor did
|
||
the only thing he could. He promised to drop all charges against the
|
||
air-conditioner thieves on the condition they would return all the stolen
|
||
property. They hastily agreed, considering that an armed mob waited outside
|
||
the building to hear their decision. Since there would be no trial, all the
|
||
air-conditioners were returned immediately to their sweating, cheering
|
||
owners and the mayor became a guaranteed shoo-in for the next election.
|
||
The chief of police, who was recuperating in the hospital from a
|
||
concussion sustained during the previous day's riot, went on record saying
|
||
he would live just as long and die just as happy if he "never heard the
|
||
word 'air-conditioner' again."
|
||
Though the thieves managed to save their lives by returning the loot,
|
||
there was still a slight feeling of resentment against them in Willyville.
|
||
Since the police had no reason to hold them anymore, they were thrown out
|
||
of the station and right into the arms of the raving crowd.
|
||
Within the hour, the entire gang had been tarred and feathered.
|
||
Julie's husband was among them, and Julie herself took great pleasure in
|
||
assisting with the tarring and feathering, but not before getting him to
|
||
sign the divorce papers. She watched as the gang was run out of town on a
|
||
rail, Elmo Burns assisting with his shotgun and a generous supply of his
|
||
"special" shells. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away
|
||
absently. An unpleasant chapter in her life had just closed, and she knew
|
||
better things lay ahead.
|
||
The next day, Bob Katt, fresh from a long vacation in the Yukon,
|
||
returned once more to the KNUT Newsroom. Since the studio air-conditioning
|
||
had been restored, he was appeared fully dressed, bringing the best news
|
||
Willyville had heard in a long, long time.
|
||
The high-pressure front that had been stagnating over the whole area
|
||
for the last five weeks had finally weakened its hold and a storm front was
|
||
moving in, bringing massive thunderclouds, rain, and COOLER
|
||
TEMPERATURES!!!!
|
||
A massive roar rose over the town as every man, woman, and child
|
||
cheered. Bob was later nominated for sainthood by the local church. He
|
||
politely declined, saying that one Church of "Bob" was enough...
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
Harold knew the moment of truth had come. There was no denying it, and
|
||
putting it off would only make things worse. He had talked to Julie, who
|
||
understood completely. Diane said, "Go for it!" Michael objected, saying
|
||
that Harold was still placing way too much emphasis on his sexual ability,
|
||
but acquiesced eventually when he saw just how determined Harold was.
|
||
There comes a time when one has to face one's fears, either to defeat
|
||
them or succumb forever. But to avoid the test is to avoid oneself. On this
|
||
even Michael had to agree.
|
||
Harold swallowed hard, picked up the phone, and started dialing.
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
The moon poured in through the open window, flooding the bedroom with
|
||
an eerie half light. The air was warm, a pleasant 75 degrees. Perfect
|
||
temperature for nudity. Cindi settled back on the pillow with a satisfied
|
||
sigh of pleasure not yet faded to memory. Harold still kneeled on the bed
|
||
between her knees, his erection pounding almost painfully against his
|
||
belly. The moonlight spilled across her nude, fluid form, and he lovingly
|
||
eyed her firm, small breasts, still hard nippled in the aftermath of her
|
||
orgasm. His eyes roamed down her smooth, taut belly to the wiry mass of her
|
||
pubic hair, where he had but moments ago spent so much time carefully and
|
||
artistically bringing her to a powerful climax. Whatever else you could say
|
||
about his performance in the sack, he knew how to give head. It was one of
|
||
the skills he was especially proud of. It used to be all he was proud of.
|
||
Harold leaned forward, placing his hands on the bed on either side of
|
||
her. He kissed her fully and deeply as he gently lowered his weight onto
|
||
her. For a moment they simply lay there, as he savored the full body
|
||
contact, the feel of her naked skin against his own. Then he raised his
|
||
hips and she gently guided him into her.
|
||
For Harold, at least, no sensation in the world could ever compare to
|
||
the warm, slinky feeling of penetration. He thrust deep, and her hips moved
|
||
in response. His excitement towered to new heights, and his balls ached for
|
||
release. Take it slow, take it slow. He kissed her again and ran his hand
|
||
along her side, from thigh to shoulder, feeling, touching, loving.
|
||
He began to pump in a slow sinuous rhythem, her hips moving with his.
|
||
Her legs raised and locked around his waist as her hands moved along his
|
||
back. Her breathing became short and rapid, and Harold knew she was
|
||
building to another orgasm. With each thrust, his own pleasure mounted to a
|
||
new height until finally he poised, breathless, at the brink. Too soon, too
|
||
soon...
|
||
And then he remembered. The mantra began to slowly run through his
|
||
head, and he felt the pleasure fade as he began to distance himself from
|
||
what he was doing. His whole body seemed to shift into an altered state,
|
||
one of total control.
|
||
Beneath him, Cindi froze for a moment, perhaps in amazement that he
|
||
hadn't come yet, and then she became fluid again, moving and twisting in
|
||
synch with his own movements. Her breathing became rougher and louder,
|
||
first becoming gasps, then cries. Harold continued to pump mechanically all
|
||
the while. Cindi wrapped her arms around him, her nails digging into his
|
||
back. Her hips bucked and humped, grinding against his pubic bone with
|
||
every thrust. Finally, her body tensed as her moans became a breathless
|
||
shriek of ultimate pleasure as her orgasm ripped through her. Gasping, she
|
||
begged Harold to stop, but he wasn't listening, and a moment later she felt
|
||
herself building up to another orgasm. Once again her body locked and she
|
||
squeezed him hard enough to bruise ribs as the pleasure exploded in her,
|
||
twice as powerful as before. By now Cindi was beyond amazement and in
|
||
nirvana. And then she felt herself building up to a third...
|
||
Forty mind-blowing minutes later, Harold decided to release the hold
|
||
he had on his senses and ejaculated, pumping his seed into her with a
|
||
rather disappointing spasm that might technically count as an orgasm. He
|
||
pulled himself out and flopped on the bed beside her, exhausted. His back
|
||
and stomach muscles ached miserably and his dick felt like it had been
|
||
rubbed with sandpaper, especially around the base. He turned over to Cindi,
|
||
who was laying on her back with her legs still apart, eyes glazed, mumbling
|
||
incoherently. He began to wonder if he had done her permanent damage.
|
||
It was another fifteen minutes before she returned to reality. She
|
||
promptly rolled over and clamped onto Harold for dear life. "Oh, God!" she
|
||
gasped hoarsely, "That was unbelievable! How..."
|
||
Harold grinned, trying to pry himself loose so he could breathe. "Oh,
|
||
I've learned a few things."
|
||
"I'll say you have! Jesus, I'll be sore for a week! I've never *ever*
|
||
had a ride like that before."
|
||
A cool breeze suddenly blew in through the window and they both fell
|
||
silent, in respect for nature's sudden benevolence. Then Harold got up and
|
||
began to pull on his clothes. Cindi continued talking, oblivious to
|
||
everything but herself, as usual. "You know, I really didn't mean to be so
|
||
hard on you before, but what's a girl to do? I mean, it's the man's job to
|
||
satisfy her and if he can't do it... well..."
|
||
"Uh huh." Harold said, zipping up his pants. He began to look about
|
||
for his shirt.
|
||
"Anyway," she continued, "I thought maybe if I gave you a little
|
||
incentive, you might find some way to shape up. And boy, did you ever! All
|
||
those guys I saw after I left you... they couldn't hope to match what you
|
||
did tonight."
|
||
"Izzat so?" Harold said, finding his shirt hanging on the curtain rod.
|
||
"Lots of different guys, huh?"
|
||
"Well... you know." she said coyly. "They really didn't mean anything
|
||
to me anyway. They were just random flings, even the guy you saw me with at
|
||
the party. I always, well, cared for you somehow. You have this sort of
|
||
stumbling, immature charm that I always found appealing. You just needed to
|
||
do some growing up and I'm so glad I finally decided to make you do it."
|
||
"Yep, you sure made me do some growing." Harold said, pulling on his
|
||
shoes. "In fact, that was precisely what I wanted to show you tonight."
|
||
"When you called me this morning and said you wanted a chance to show
|
||
me how much you improved I was, well, a little dubious. In fact, I called
|
||
Frank and Tony and kinda set up a backup date in case you... frustrated me
|
||
again." She closed her eyes and sighed luxuriously. "But you sure didn't.
|
||
I've never been so satisfied in my entire life."
|
||
"I'm glad to hear it." Harold said. He was fully dressed now, and sat
|
||
down on the edge of the bed. "This was just something I felt I needed to
|
||
do. But now-"
|
||
"I know, I know." she interrupted. "You want us to get back together
|
||
again. You are so predictable! Well, until tonight I really wasn't sure,
|
||
but maybe we could work something out. It couldn't be exclusive at first,
|
||
at least not for me, but a few more nights like that and you might just
|
||
convince me to settle down... Hey, are you all right?"
|
||
Harold seemed to be suffering from a choking fit. Finally he took his
|
||
hand from over his mouth and it became obvious that he wasn't choking at
|
||
all, but laughing. It was a full minute before he was able to bring it
|
||
under control and talk again. "You... you really are something else, you
|
||
know that?" He had another fit of giggles and Cindi watched him, confused
|
||
and unbelieving. He continued, "You really think... after all that... that
|
||
I'd still wanna..." and off into another burst of laughter.
|
||
"What are you talking about?" she demanded, confused. "You distinctly
|
||
said this morning you wanted another chance! I thought-"
|
||
"Well, I'm sorry that was what you thought, because it wasn't what I
|
||
said. I wanted to prove something, both to you and to myself." Suddenly he
|
||
was sober and serious again. "And I did. That was all I really wanted to
|
||
do. You might as well make a date with Frank and Tony for tomorrow night,
|
||
because as far as I'm concerned, we have no reason to see each other ever
|
||
again."
|
||
Cindi stared at him, aghast. "What the hell are you talking about?
|
||
You're in love with me, you fool! Don't you think I couldn't tell?"
|
||
"Old news, my dear." Harold got up and went to the door. "Tell you
|
||
what: If you ever learn to think about anyone but yourself, give me a call.
|
||
Maybe we can work something out..." and with another burst of laughter, he
|
||
was gone.
|
||
Cindi got up and ran to the window without dressing. Not caring if
|
||
anybody saw her, she leaned out and yelled, "Bullshit! You still love me
|
||
and you know it! Admit it!"
|
||
Her only reply was the sound of a car pulling away and slightly
|
||
demented giggles drifting on the wind, mixing with the distant rumble of
|
||
thunder.
|
||
|
||
---
|
||
|
||
At 11:04 PM, the first lightning strikes were sighted over the forest
|
||
north of town. After five weeks without rain, the woods were dry as a
|
||
tinderbox, and the forest service immediately summoned all the regular and
|
||
volunteer firefighters they could muster out there. The temperature dropped
|
||
below 75 degrees for the first time in thirty-six days.
|
||
Thirty minutes later, black, murderous storm clouds drifted over the
|
||
Willyville area, filling the sky with a spectacular lightning display.
|
||
Thunder shook the town to its foundations as virtually everybody in town
|
||
came outside to watch from their porches or doorways.
|
||
By midnight the temperature dropped to 65 degrees. Harold and Julie
|
||
watched from the front porch of the boarding house as a single drop of
|
||
water spattered in the dust at their feet.
|
||
Approximately one minute later the skies opened up with all their
|
||
fury. Quarter sized raindrops hailed down in a torrent, quickly drenching
|
||
everything in sight. The Forest Service needn't have worried. It was as if
|
||
the sky gods were trying to make up for so many days of drought by drowning
|
||
the poor, hapless town beneath them. People whooped and hollered in the
|
||
streets, mindless of the soaking they were receiving. The hospitals would
|
||
admit 14 pnuemonia cases before the weekend. But right now, even the
|
||
(off-duty) doctors and nurses were joining in the celebration.
|
||
The people partied hard and long into the night, as temperatures
|
||
quickly plummeted. They bottomed out at 50 degrees around 2:30 AM. This
|
||
news was greeted by hoarse and ragged cheering. People were catching colds
|
||
already.
|
||
On the boarding house porch, Julie shivered, delighting in the chill.
|
||
An arm circled around her shoulders and she looked up into Harold's eyes.
|
||
Without a word, she led him into the house, past Michael, who looked on
|
||
with bland approval. Michael himself had a beer in one hand and his other
|
||
arm was around Diane's shoulders. Pretty soon, they would be going inside
|
||
as well, for a more private party. It was indeed a time for celebration.
|
||
The heat was finally over.
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|
||
|