Sunday, September 30, 2007

Rachel

I had rented a nice little house right on the campus of Florence Doolittle College for Women when I got the job as a custodian. My neighbors were mostly new faculty members and graduate students. The complex was more like an exclusive village than a housing project and usually bustled with interesting folks to chat with. Usually. But the college was on spring break this week, and the village was stricken with peace.

The only exciting thing happening in the complex was watching the new neighbor empty her U-Haul. I had met Rachel the previous evening when she first drove up. She was a new phys ed teacher at Florence Doolittle and looked like she practiced what she taught. Rachel was a lovely brunette who had won several bodybuilding competitions. A startlingly beautiful face, tall, gracefully proportioned with a body she had shaped and refined to feminine perfection, there was nothing grotesque about her anywhere. Here was Woman, Woman at her best. An exquisite warrior goddess from Olympus was she, and I had blushed and averted my eyes as we chatted in her driveway.

I watched her toss boxes and equipment around like feathers, her powerful young body sweating and flexing and collecting dirt.

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Friday, September 28, 2007

Soft Comfort


Kecia kept the tears at bay in the morning by being busy; she got Robby dressed while Peter and Kim ate cereal and waffles, then made sure coats and book bags were in the hands of her two oldest children and they were out the door in plenty of time for the school bus. That left her with more than enough time to bundle Robby up and drive him to day-care. There was only one moment when her control nearly slipped. She was helping Robby get unbuckled from the car seat when he asked, "Is Daddy going to be home tonight?"

She strove to keep her voice calm. "No, honey, we discussed that last night, remember? Daddy's not going to be living at home anymore."

"Why not?"

Because your Daddy's fucking his twenty-year-old law clerk. "Because your Dad and I think it would be best if we stayed apart for a little while, OK? Don't worry, honey - it'll be all right."

"OK." He paused, and then looked up at her, his tender face peering out from under his hat. "Is it because I broke the camera?"

And that was the question that nearly made her lose control and start crying as helplessly as she had last night.

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Cemetery Ghost


She isn't there anymore. Sometimes I'm not sure if she ever was there or was a creation of my over wild imagination that wanted something special, something unique. Sometimes I wonder of I dream about her long enough, think about her often enough, she would become back. And yet other times I hope that she never returns so that moment we shared would be kept special.

Through the northern part of Seattle Highway 99 becomes Aurora Avenue. It is a straight drag strip of a street littered with strip malls, fast food restaurants and convenience stores, and cheap if not overpriced motels. Half way up this two hundred block stretch Aurora splits a cemetery in half. This was her ground.

This is where I saw her and saw her no place else.

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Thursday, September 27, 2007

Tylyn And Jazmyn


As the day broke the sentry guards watched as a lone, heavily cloaked figure rode towards the city. As the rider approached the heavy gates it threw back its hood revealing a beautiful dark skinned girl with a long white mane of hair worn in a topknot ponytail. These features and finely pointed ears marked her as a Drow, that sub race of the Elven Nation that struck fear into the hearts of people everywhere, and the city's valiant Guards were no exception. No matter how beautiful and innocent Tylyn looked, she could kill them with out a hint of remorse. The young dark elf called to the fear struck soldiers.

"In the Name of King Llewellyn, Lord of Pandathaway, and ruler of these lands, I demand entrance to your city!"

"Tell us why we should allow a foul, corrupted creature such as yourself in to the fair city of Arvendale" Corporal Bethany ask, trying to hide the fear she was experiencing.

"I'm just a ranger seeking refuge and lodging in your fair city for a week or so, just long enough for my horse to get rested. Please let me in,

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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Chloe's Story


April in Attica just may be the time and place that most closely approaches perfection. The winds of February and the rains of March give way to clear skies and the seduction of the olive fields. All is lush and growing, as the Earth Mother Gaea decrees, and her daughter Chloe walks the land, touching each plant with green, for Green is the gift of the young goddess. Chloe laughs as she touches each bud, and her laughter is heard on the gentle breeze. She giggles in pleasure as she gently pinches her own pink nipples through her diaphanous green shift. The yellow-brown grass of Winter turns green under her feet as she walks the land. She carries a magic wand of pussy willow, and occasionally she lifts her transparent skirt to brush the soft nubs against her thighs, and elsewhere. It is a season for pleasure, and Chloe delights in both the giving and the receiving.

Strains of an unknown music float to Chloe's ears on the Spring breeze. It is a sad music, which seems to call out "I am here. I am alone. I am lonely. Come to me." How could anyone be lonely, with the trees and the flowers and the birds for company? Chloe has to find out. She follows the sound of the music, high up on a rocky hill, and there beholds a slim maiden with lustrous eyes and even shinier long brown hair. The maiden's ruby lips are dancing back and forth across the tops of a set of Pan-pipes, which in Attica are called a syrinx. Chloe gazes at those lips, as they draw the mournful tune from her instrument.

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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Beach


Cynthia sat in her patio, pondering her life as she put down a book by Anais Nin. The cold morning sea breeze cut through her chiffon robe and slippers, the chill went through her body, turning her milk white skin into a row of goose pimples. Her long brown curls twirled freely in the wind, reminding her how Stephen once touched her hair. They were to be married, but Stephen left her waiting at the altar. From then on Cynthia swore that she would never be hurt again, even if it meant she would be alone forever. From her patio she looked out at the swirling ocean and the white, foaming waves crashing on shore. The waves were like his empty promises, seemingly full of promise but ending up as little more than foam. Stephen was ready to give her the universe in and its wonders, only to give her suffering and pain .

Despite it all, at least I can still laugh at the comical tragedy that is life, Cynthia though as she reached over to the small metal table to her side. Putting her black clay mug of coffee, she drank bitterly sweet coffee. At least there was one good thing about him, the sex, Cynthia thought. The absolutely divine, ecstatic, mind blowing sex. Her body shuddered even to think about it, as she closed her eyes for a moment and relived the many happy nights they spent together. In a wave all first experiences with Stephen came tumbling back: the first kiss, the first embrace, the first time they had sex, and so much more. Deeply in her heart, Cynthia felt a pang of regret and loss...letting it out with a long sigh. Will I ever again be with someone again who can make me feel as good? Do I deserve love and pleasure? Cynthia opened her eyes the early morning light flooded back into her vision, along with the tide rushing out to sea. As she stared at the ocean, Cynthia thought she saw a nude woman emerging from the foam and froth of the sea.

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Monday, September 24, 2007

Land of Thrae: A Friendship Formed


Chapter I: The Flesh Shop

A stiff morning breeze swept through the bustling crowed as they tried to move closer towards the wood platform that held upon it a variety of both young and old female slaves. The crowed cheered onwards as the trappers, pushed, prodded, and belittled their new catch from last nights hard work. Most of the crowd was of upper class, with only a few city shop keepers willing to spend the last of their cash, hoping to buy a girl for what ever their needs would require of them.

The trappers appeared fierce as they stood tall and proud on the platform. Their job was a risky one, but the rewards were worth any blood that they may have lost during battle. This group called themselves The Pest Control, there were four in all, and they were known through out the land as being one of the most violent pack of cut throats any one could ever meet. Their leader called himself Zek, he was a brutish Racoon with a leather patch that hid old torn flesh where his right eye once rested. Zek hardly ever became involved in the bidding, as it bored him senseless, he was only in it for the love of the hunt, and for the pain it caused towards those his team had enslaved.

His partners were Cal, a tall thin Fox, and Jiuana, a slinky Rabbit, she was the only female in the team. Their job was to guard the slaves, both in capturing those that tried to escape, and those that tried to steal away any of their hard fought goods. The last member of the team was named Bigaton, he only joined The Pest Control a few months ago, after their other member Chakul died in the heat of battle. Bigaton was a deer, his job was simply to be the face of the team. He dealt the rules to the buyers, and auctioned off the meat as quickly as possible, so that they could head on before any bounty hunters discovered where they were and tried to cash in on the large rewards that sat upon each of the members heads.

Todays auction was special, this was the first time in years The Pest Control dared to display their catch openly in a large city.

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