A Fantasy - Sex Stories
The beat goes on
## Scene 01
Kirsten was getting more and more nervous, without exactly knowing why. It was not her first nor her last quarterly meeting with the company’s top shareholders, and she could not reasonably put this unexpected inner unrest on the account of the recent merger they’d been going through, as the preliminary outcomes were clearly on the bright side. There was something else at play in this room, and as she was trying to focus on it, she realised that rather than nervous, she was more exactly anxious. “But about what, for fuck sake?” she mentally shouted. Or maybe from what?
Her eyes scrutinised the board room: It was tea break time, and soft babblings reverberated gently from the service area were the male dominated crowd had flocked, to indulge in an early sugar blast. Apart from her, the only other woman sitting on the board was Kaitleen, the head of marketing. Iron fist in a velvet glove, thought Kirsten with a faint smile, and God knew you had to be made of this kind of alloy to survive in this merciless corporate world, and in the pharmaceutical industry more broadly. Kaitleen was a friend, the 2Ks as they called themselves, and right now, she was busy gesturing some brainwashing spell with a killer smile to James P., who just injected nearly a billion dollars through the merger, and seemed genuinely curious to know which double digit percent of that would be swallowed by Kaitleen’s ambitious plans.
Kirsten stayed at her seat, mindlessly dipping her lips in her steaming hot mild latte, and flipping through the slides she was supposed to present in the next session, while still apprehensively glancing at the buffet over her screen. She was the chief scientist, and as such leading the R & D division, the sinews of war in this industry. Her slide deck was about to cover the perspectives of development of the group’s portfolio of molecules and products, at the light of the recent merger, something on which shareholders were likely to unconditionally grant her their trust, given her track records to date. This was all charted territory, and she could not possibly feel panicky about any of that. And yet, those funny butterflies in her guts wouldn’t be quiet.
She felt the gaze rather that she saw it, as a warm beam hitting her forehead, and bringing blood to pulsate heavily against her temples. Refraining from suddenly lifting her chin from her laptop, she blinked quickly a few times, as if to brush off a speckle of dust, and in the process frantically scanned a 60° arc of vision in front of her. And there they were, two gleaming charcoal eyes staring at her, with an incredible heat radiating from them. And she instantly knew that they were the only possible source of her jittery state of mind. Like unreal dancing flames, they seemed to flicker at the same pace than her own pulse, who had now probably reached close to a hundred, crossing her from head to toe in some sort of heathen beat. Who was this dangerous creature and who had let it loose in this 30th floor board room?
Getting a grip on herself, and widening her field of vision, Kirsten realised that the pair of branding irons belonged to this new face in the company, introduced as Louis and apparently in charge of strategic audit, which seemed to be enough to explain he was given clearance to this top-level meeting … as an auditor! Kirsten had briefly shaken his hand an hour ago, without granting him more than a polite smile, but she now acknowledged that it was when her unrest started. What was it with him? For an auditor, he seemed for the time particularly talkative, engaging two shareholders with some ideas that apparently made them nod a lot. He had a light asymmetric smile, revealing very white teeth, a prominent feature in his face, if to forget the probing and dancing eyes which kept occasionally darting at Kirsten over the right shoulder of one of the suits.
The man was of medium build, shaven bald, olive skin, the Mediterranean or Middle-Eastern type, definitely not from the local Anglo-Saxon pool. And honestly, he would have been completely average and unnoticeable … if only he didn’t talk and move. There was something almost abnormally elegant about that, not exactly feline but definitely animal. The confident smile and moving jaws made her think of something wolf-like, the general body stance a subtle power pose only modulated by two weaving hands, apparently hypnotising his audience across a rich spectrum of emotions. The more Kirsten watched this unfolding, the more she found it fascinating, and with a mild body thrill, she closed her mouth to prevent a sigh, as she realised her nipples were getting hard within the white lace of her bra. “What’s wrong with me? Where is your self-control Kirsten?”
The Chairman clapped his hands, and they were back in session.
***
## Scene 02
The air was still scorching hot on this corner of the street. Kirsten was controlling her breath to ventilate her body, and prevent as far as she could perspiration to form and accumulate in all these dark and remote parts of her person, starting with her armpits. Sydney’s summer was full on, and despite the cool influence of the southerlies, temperature at 5PM and something was still sitting steadily in the 30s. The ambient car traffic and the pavement radiating back a whole day of accumulated heat did not help. For a moment, she contemplated the option of retreating inside the supermarket, anticipating the cold air of the AC blowing on her forehead and naked shoulders, a highly tempting perspective. A quick glance at her wristwatch confirmed there were only 5 minutes left to the half, the agreed time for her meeting: Surely she could control herself, and stand outside to be visible, couldn’t she? She had been raised in the firm belief that one can achieve anything through proper exercise of their will power, and that mind was meant to prevail over matter, at least for superior human beings like her. These mantras never failed her so far, not career wise.
Using deep breathing to cool down, she mentally reviewed the achievements of the day to kill time, but this routine was quickly interrupted by the vivid memory of how painfully it had started, with her presentation to the board not unfolding exactly as planned. As she concluded her speech with a positive and reassuring final statement on the unique breadth of the portfolio and strength of the team, and was preparing to sit back, she had to face a robust round of questions from this unidentified so-called auditor, the skittish Mister Louis, who went on raising points (and relevant ones) for 10 long minutes, in front of a silent yet respectfully listening audience. Kirsten stoically faced the barrage, providing her best answers, although she was growing more and more incredulous and less and less comfortable dealing with what felt like a rain of blows given to her whole argumentation. The face of her prosecutor kept absolutely friendly all along, although the smile was starting to feel carnivorous, and the inquisitive eyes seemed to tear her wide open. To the question “Dr. Kirsten, how can you be sure you’ll deliver all the goals of your ambitious program with just 10% increase in your staff capacity?”, she grew exceedingly irritated and simply retorted “I think I can be trusted on that!”, which inevitably raised a few bushy eyebrows around the table, this line sounding unusual and odd in the mouth of the documented professional she was known to be. She then pinched her lips, as Louis delivered his coup-de-grace: “Certainly so … although you know better than anyone in this room that trust does not exclude control. But we can take that off-line. That’ll be all for me!”
She had been at best exposed, at worst humiliated in front of her peers, by a bloody nobody … or so it had seemed so far. Something she would have not bet on, when getting out of bed this morning. How fast things can happen… in particular bad ones. But she was a fighter, and a winner, and she had dedicated the rest of the morning thinking of a recovery move. At lunch-time, she was still pondering and weighting options, when she saw Louis coming to her, all smile and starting a casual conversation. What was said, she could not remember exactly, something about him being just arrived the day before from Europe and still unfamiliar with the city and the local culture, but clearly nothing sounding apologetic or whatsoever! She thought she would politely withdraw, but surprised herself sitting still and listening to him, enjoying somehow the spectacle given by his person: The bright flames dancing in his eyes, and his attractive hands gesturing in the air, drawing signs in some ancient language that her ears would not decipher, but that her guts turned out to be very aware of and receptive to.
So when he casually said that he was looking for some help to find his way around town, she heard herself spontaneously say “yes”, and offer to tour him around, today, after work. Really? What was that? She had at least a dozen other things to do after work, including going to the gym, or picking up her dry cleaning, or spending some time with one of her daughters, or just chilling home. But devoting an hour or two to saddle up a foreigner she barely knew, and moreover who publicly roasted her, clearly was at the end of the long tail! And still … here she was, standing in the heat of the day, waiting for him to show up. Retrospectively, she wanted to believe that this was part of her recovery move, her subconscious and intuition having made the right calls here, to promptly become closer to this man, get to know him and make him if not a friend, at least a supporter. After all, he seemed very influential with the board and she could take advantage of that, couldn’t she?
The man had a bland title: Strategic auditor … what does that even mean? Regardless, there was clearly strength and authority in him, that no smile could conceal, it was naturally radiating. In fact, compared to all the other men of the board, and any other men Kirsten could think of in her team and across the company, he appeared very different, almost like from a different species. Was it a European thingy? Maybe he was a big wig (so to speak for a bald guy!) in the group, and dropping in to act as a shadow COO, or even CEO? Yes, making a friend of him sounded more and more like a brilliant idea, and Kirsten was starting to feel cheered up by this train of thoughts speeding to restore her ego.
“Hello Kirsten! Sorry if I’m late?” Her heart skipped a beat, and she spun around herself as if stung by a bee. She hardly heard herself reply a vague “Hello”, as she was already falling hard inside the steel black eyes, sweat dripping along her neck, temples bursting with this insane African beat … who was she kidding after all?
Out of the haze, she heard him say: “So … shall we go shopping?”
***
## Scene 03
“- And where do you stay?” asked Kirsten, as they came inside the shopping centre. She was looking straight in front of her, avoiding direct contact with the dangerous eyes, and trying to regroup around the only project that seemed to make sense, out of the present situation: Find out who he really was and make a friend of him.
“- I found this little place on AirBnB, not far from here, it’s temporary obviously, I need something more … permanent.” Kirsten’s mind switched to its highly efficient analyst mode, there were important clues about to be given away, and she needed to make the best out of it.
“- Do you think you are going to love Sydney that much?”, she tried, now looking at the glass-like pavement of the main alley they were traveling, towards the local Woolies.
“- Ha ha …” His rich and bass laughter penetrated her brain like honey on a slice of sourdough, and at the same time whipped unsuspected nerves along her spine. “It’s not entirely as if I had a choice, there seems to be some work to do here … Plus, believe it or not, I am a creature of habit, and I need a living space I can truly own.” Kirsten shivered, blaming it on the freezing atmosphere of the building, although she was dimly aware of the way the man’s rich tone of voice was resonating across a deep layer of her brain.
“- But don’t worry Kirsten! I am not here to make your life miserable, if that was your next question. To the contrary maybe …”
Kirsten started to think of a polite way to refute the allusion, but the next question fell sharp, like a guillotine on her tongue: “Now, tell me, why are you here Kirsten?”. She froze up, lips half open and slightly trembling, looking at this face again, now free of any smile, simply wearing a grave and curious look, as silence settled between them for an endless pair of seconds. They were standing in front of the supermarket, with people going back and forth around them, but it seemed that a bubble of stillness had formed around them, an odd space time anomaly indefinitely cloaking them from the rest of the world. Why was she here … why was she here … what did he think?? It was HER plan, HER initiative, to get the measure of him and find out how he could fit in HER view of the world and … She was the local one, playing on HER home field, whereas he was a complete outsider, unaware of the way things were done here, without a clue about the culture … he was the vulnerable one. Yet, as she immersed herself again in those dark eyes, there was no sign of any such fragility, just pure determination, irresistible strength, and the dancing flames, lively manifestations of an intelligence sharp like a razor blade. She suddenly acknowledged there was no point in making up some bullshit.
“I am just here to help!” she replied in a breath.
“- Okay … I’ll take that as an answer for now… although I’m keen to find out who you’re really trying to help here, me or yourself?” did he add with a wink, bursting their bubble.
“- I thought you could say thank you!” she snapped, struggling to claw back some control.
“- It’s a bit too early for that, don’t you think? You know, this morning, you requested to be trusted… rings a bell? That was a big ask! Well, lucky you … this is your chance… to give me a proof of trust. Shall we?”
And without waiting for her to reply, he made a step towards the entrance of the shop, with his right hand trailing back towards her. Once again, her brain shifted to an altered state, an accelerated one as the world went to slow motion around her, just like in some movie scene leading to climax. She was standing there, all sweaty and cold, the blurred silhouette of this big unknown of a man going away from her, strangely causing her grief and frustration. But his right hand was lingering, offered as an invite to follow him, reachable, radiating a warm glow. A finely manicured hand yet made of incredibly attractive thick and strong fingers, with a palm travelled by mysterious lines and furrows she was suddenly craving to feel and explore with the end of her own fingers … with the tip of her tongue?! Her eardrums were pounding hard, with this heathen beat again, something richer than just a heartbeat, as if made of superimposed echoes of several of her organs pulsating on a different rhythm. Vision of a drum kit … and of a pond covered in ripples caused by the first drops of a heavy summer rain. She wanted to scream, and she thought she tried to … but nothing came out of her throat, gone terribly dry. In slow motion, she was just a witness, of her own hand reaching out and her fingers clasping the man’s hand. “Is there a way back from that?” was the only question left drifting on her liberated mind.
“- Fair enough!” she declared jauntily, “I’ll do my best!”
“- Good, let me see … I’ve got a list of my absolute and immediate necessities…” he casually indicated, while extracting a piece of paper from his back pocket and handing it over to her. She avidly grabbed it and unfolded it, with the pleasant feeling that she was getting hold of herself. A list, that’s what she needed to anchor back into a more solid reality, it was bringing her onto familiar turf and resupplying her with initiative.
“- Men in a supermarket are like mice in a labyrinth, and we don’t want this experiment to go on for hours!
- Don’t we? Something tells me the scientist in you would not mind though…” he suggested, picking a basket and following her into the first aisle.
Kirsten was running through the list, as she walked to the assumed location for the first item: Vaseline was to be found in skin care and personal hygiene. Did Louis have skin problems? Not that she could tell, his Mediterranean complexion was gorgeous, and his lips smooth and full … ahem… What were the other entries in this list: Black shoelaces … cleaning wipes … Okay, so maybe something to do with the care of leather shoes? That would make sense … what else: Scissors … why not a nail clipper? Nutella … for breakfast? Cherries or Strawberries … okay, they’d go to the fruits & veggies section last. Concentrated milk … undoubtedly, Mister Louis had rather unorthodox breakfast habits! As she kneeled down to pick the small pot of Vaseline, Kirsten could not help sniggering and asking: “Really, you have the most unusual notions about bare necessities, Louis! Seriously … between Vaseline and concentrated milk … traveling alone does no good to a man, what would Mrs Louis think about that?” In your teeth, man! And as she flipped her head around to read the reactions on his face, she was taken aback, realising that he was also kneeling just behind her, his nose and mouth just centimetres away from her cheek. The surprise almost knocked her back on her bum, but a firm hand landed on her left hip and helped her find her balance. Feeding on the raw emotion painted all over her face, he slowly replied, in a spiced breath: “If Mrs Louis were here, she would have no trouble at all connecting the dots, my dear! But you are excused … for now!”
And unexpectedly, Kirsten started to snigger again … and laugh … and giggle … uncontrollably so! The words had hit a spot in her brain … unlocked some floodgate, and the emotion was now pouring out, in a generous flow. The whole experience, this weird situation, the improbable posture … that was so surreal! She kept chuckling and chortling at the thought, while Louis was rubbing his hand from her hip towards her loins. Was he going to lift her up or what? God forbid! She was hiccoughing and feeling overwhelmed by her own giggles, this was starting to sound really insane, but anywise she could not care less, it all had to go out, to be released, some form of accumulated energy had reached its breakpoint. She vaguely remembered having experienced that before, a long time ago, archaic reminiscence of a fantastic orgasm accidentally provided by an early lover. Louis finally gave her a hand to stand up, and she looked down to the basket, holding the pot of Vaseline. She felt relieved and light-hearted now, and she said the only thing there was to say at this very moment: “Come on, this basket is not going to fill up by itself!”. With a glint of surprise and admiration in his eyes, he followed her to the next aisle.
***
## Scene 04
“- No darling, I won’t be too long … No, it’s all good, nothing I can’t handle. These shareholders are easy to please, especially with our 2017 results… I need to be there for this dinner… I know it was not planned!... Yes, I’ll drive the car back home … Promised, I won’t drink too much! Love you! Bye... bye.”
Kirsten cut the line and stared at the phone screen for a few seconds, uncertain why she just threw a blatant lie at the face of her husband. Something she never did before, or only mildly so.
They were now walking up Oxford St, Louis carrying the Woolies bag, filled with his precious supplies. A few minutes ago, they had gone out of the shopping centre laughing like teenagers, proud and happy of the silly jokes they both committed along the way to the checkout. Kirsten wanted to believe that her evil plan was unfolding perfectly, the man obviously being flipped over, ready to eat grain from the palm of her hand. Victory! Wasn’t it? That’s when Louis had asked her to come with him to another shopping place. More than a question, it was a statement, and something in her had wanted to start a riot: Wasn’t that enough? She had just spent over an hour of her precious time to help him buy his bloody stuff! What a fucking weirdo, time to bail out, she had better things to do … hadn’t she?
A dark sky was building up over the City, and the air was filling with this familiar electricity only summer storms can whip up that quickly. The sun was still bright close to the horizon line, and casting incredible golden rays over the metropolis, one of them incidentally hitting the handsome interrogative facial features of Louis, as he was patiently expecting her answer. A pure moment in time, she took a mental snapshot, and with a sudden intimate perception of doom, she knew for sure she’d follow him to the next star system, would she have to.
“- And what is it you now want, Mister Demanding?” she said weakly, in a vain attempt to buy time.
“- Something that absolutely requires a woman’s opinion … and your opinion on this matter seems quite essential.
- But I can’t … I mean I have to … it’s late already and …
- Look … you can say that, and go back to your well-trodden track, no drama, I understand. Or … you can make it happen. It’s your choice. It’s yours, you understand? I am here, in need of a trusted friend. Are you going to do something about it? Or will you just let me go, alone in Sydney’s cloak and sword alleys, and possibly let me fall between the wrong hands?
- (sigh)… I am afraid … it’s beyond my …
- It is not, and you know it. Why don’t you make this call? Hurry up, before the rain starts …”
The two flames in the pitch-black eyes had turned blue, strangely enough, the searing blue heat of a gas only found in the remotest super novae. It was beyond any hunger she had ever experienced, and as for her, she felt incredibly thirsty, thinking of herself incapable of speech anymore as, almost unwittingly, she extracted the phone from her handbag.
The first series of thunders rolled on menacingly in the distance, drawing Kirsten out of her day time dreaming. She finally raised her eyes to ask:
“- So … Where are we going?
“- We are there.” he simply replied, pointing his chin to the blinking blue neon sign: The Toolshed. With his free hand, he invited her to climb the blue lit stairs first, and with only a slight hesitation she made a move. She was wearing a summer skirt ending just above the knees, and as she started her ascension of the steep staircase, she became utterly aware of her long, strong and milky naked legs being so much exposed to his eyes. She bit her lips and closed her eyes, half expecting the feel of his hand brushing them from ankles to … Gosh! A shockwave of excitement jolted across her groin, she felt her most intimate velvet curls turning into a pool of moisture, and she struggled to keep her cotton-like thighs pushing up the stairs. “Fucking hell! What am I doing here!” she yelled in the utter void of her mind.
It was a sex shop, obviously, and a large one, with meters of shelving presenting to the browsing visitor pretty much everything the twisted minds of generations of perverts could have possibly imagined in terms of sex toys, fetish props, costumes and substances. In all flavours, colours, sizes, patterns, and prices. Kirsten was eyes wide open at the gargantuan collection of items, and was sitting on the fence between horrified disgust and lusty curiosity. Behind the counter, a bald skinny face turned to them and started cackling welcome words, obviously happy and relieved to see living beings showing up at this early time of his night shift. He grinned at the visitors and looked unnaturally shiny as he moved under a spotlight. Kirsten realised this was caused by the countless piercings he wore all over his face, their number only challenged by the quantity of beauty marks the man was otherwise displaying. A total freak, not completely out of place though.
“- Can I help you with anything?” the man croaked. “- That’s OK mate, we’ll be browsing for a bit” replied Louis, sending the disappointed soul in a limping retreat to his computer screen. Without a look nor a word to her, Louis started to absorb himself into the items displayed in a corner shelf, leaving Kirsten standing in the middle of the room, uneasy. A bit frustrated and angry by this sudden lack of attention to her person, she decided to find refuge in the first aisle in front of her. Quickly enough, she realised her mistake: Given the variety of oversized silicon and latex penises on display, and the colourful covers of the DVDs in racks offering exclusively male casts, mostly in leather and steel, she was clearly in the gay section. Her breathing was getting shorter, her neck was stiff, and as she mechanically pressed her handbag against her chest in a wretched manner, she realised that her breasts had become hard again and utterly sensitive to the friction of fabric. Backing out in the open, she glanced again at Louis, who was still leaning against the same shelf, carefully studying minute differences between two articles. “What the fuck is he doing? One more minute and I’m out of here …” she promised to herself, while walking around to find another spot where she could hide.
From the back of the shop, behind a curtain, she could hear some growling and howling coming up, at regular intervals. That teased her curiosity just enough to walk closer, and confirm her impression that there was some animal whinging in the back office, probably a dog? The howling was rather blood chilling, and with growing alarm she went to the shop manager to ask: “Excuse me … what’s going on over there?”, pointing her finger towards the curtains. The man lifted his eyes over his narrow glasses, and with a shrug casually replied “Cruising!”. Cruising … what the heck? That didn’t make any sense. “What do you mean ‘cruising’ ??” she insisted. The man looked more bored than annoyed, and added “It’s our cruising area … but sorry darling, it’s for men only. Maybe your friend wants to have a look?” he whispered with a dirty look, his tobacco ridden tongue darting out. Kirsten refrained from wincing, and tried to pull her ideas together. The growling continued, getting more intense if anything, and she pointed it out to the creep: “Did you hear that? What’s this howling in your back room? Cruising or not, it sounds to me like an animal is being abused!”. The man raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely astonished, pondered the matter for a bit, and with a sudden expression of understanding explained: “Oh … that! It must come from one of our video cabin, someone must have not locked the door properly. I can guarantee there’s no animal here. You can have a look if you want.” And he dug his head back into his screen, with no apparent intention to resolve the matter any further.
Kirsten tossed her options for a while, at the other end of room Louis was now kneeling to watch closer items on display on the lower shelf. “It’s a bloody joke! What an asshole …” she bitched heatedly, while walking slowly towards the curtain. She pulled it aside, and failing to peer into the darkness, she passed through it, to discover a small corridor lit by a unique red spot. On the right, a small yellow neon sign simply stated “Cruising” above another staircase, muffled techno music coming down. On the left-hand side, a couple of doors, one of them half opened, and letting out the worrying animal grunts. A small monitor on the side was displaying a movie poster, obviously what was airing inside the cabin: The wolf of slut street. This could indeed explain that! Giving up on resisting temptation, she stepped inside the tiny room. She had come that far already, it would have been absurd not clear up the matter completely! On screen, what looked like a werewolf with serious genitals, was sniffing over the lying bodies of 2 lovely blondes, asleep in each other’s arms, barely covered in a light white linen that let to see most of their extremely advantageous tits and mouth-watering asses. That seemed to do it for the wolf man, who started to pant and moan as his monstrous cock grew bigger by the second.
In Kirsten’s opinion, this was absolutely grotesque, tacky, pathetic … yet she could not get her eyes off the scene, eager to find out what was going to happen next! The beast’s head was now hovering over the ass of one of the blondes … Kirsten felt the door open behind her, and briefly wondered if it was another monster coming for her, but the faint spicy fragrance told her it was Louis slipping in. Finally, was he done with is damn shopping?! His warm chest pressed against her back, and she let a series of resulting shivers travel up and down freely along her spine. Her hands probed back along the trousers of her companion, and started to find their way up, while he pressed his lips on her neckline, and started to gently bite her. On the screen, droplets of the sticky mouth fluids of the werewolf dripped on the buttocks of the girl, who eventually woke up in a bone chilling scream. The monster backed off and growled threateningly, and Kirsten involuntarily squeezed her hands on Louis’s groin, who in turn released a loud whinging grunt, to her sinful excitement. Gasping and panting, he recovered while Kirsten was watching the raping scene unfolding before her incredulous eyes. Louis muttered in her ears: “We are done here, let’s go!”
They rushed outside, to discover that the storm was now about to burst out over the City, the darkened street already deserted and hit by the first fat drops of rain. “- I could really use a ride?” he queried. She smiled and replied simply: “This way!”
***
## Scene 05
A deluge of rain was beating the faces of Sydney’s skyscrapers, and what was coming on the horizon looked even more worlds-end-esque. The lights had gone off in this ground level car park, under the building where Louis had his rental accommodation, and the electricity outage probably now spanned across several blocks. Curtains of water falling along the outside building walls where darkening even further the basement, giving it the grim look of some primitive grotto shelter. Kirsten had parked the GoGet car between two concrete pillars, and from the inside of the vehicle, they were now silently staring at the cataracts through the windshield, on which condensation was slowly building up. A comfortably quiet and numb moment, after the rush through the flooded streets of the city, and the loud assaults of the monsoon rain against the metal and plastic body of the car. Louis had been silent for a few minutes, and so was Kirsten, respectful of that, but also strangely absorbed in the meditative contemplation of the moment, any notion of time and location momentary lost.
Something was yet to happen, without exactly knowing what, she was already accepting it, in a cheerful manner, and also curious to see the dots finally connecting under her marvelled eyes. The applied scientist in her was craving for that, somehow it was her experiment about to unravel, she had invested herself heavily in it, she even exposed herself, and consciously or not she had signed off on all the risks attached. She had given a lot to this man, and now her time had come to harvest and take back! Yes! Yes? But take what exactly? Her thoughts got stuck on this low orbit, revolving faster and faster to the point of nausea. She decided to reach escape velocity … empty her mind, reset, and observe again, at a sensorial and limbic level. Something else was going on. The smell of wet leather and clothing … the excessive moist in the air … the chest of Louis moving up and down regularly … the rumbling of the thunder … the receding daylight … this was raw, and primal, and timeless … she could have been sitting here in any age, in any cave of any continent, during any storm … but not with any man!
Louis stirred and opened the glove box, summoning its dim light as one of his prehistoric ancestors would have sparked a campfire. Dozens of questions would have normally spawned in her head, starting with “Is he going to invite me for a drink upstairs?” but she abruptly silenced them down, to observe quietly. Obviously, this was meant to happen here, the man had made a decision, and he was staging the scene. The car papers were pulled out and thrown under the passenger seat, and Louis started to pick items one by one from the bag of supplies: The scissors came out first, and were placed on the tablet, then the Vaseline pot. Still silent, he glanced at her with a warm reassuring smile while he was unpacking the shoe laces, and gauging if their length would be sufficient for whatever purpose he had in mind. She didn’t flinch, and clearly made a point about it, withstanding his inquisitive gaze. Apparently satisfied, he kept pulling stuff from the bag: He popped the Nutella pot open, removed the protective film, and left it open on the console. The tube of concentrated milk followed the same path, and the cleaning wipes landed next to the scissors. This was starting to feel very surgical thought Kirsten, and she couldn’t completely suppress the slight uneasiness that resulted. Louis unpacked the strawberries and delicately put them on the tablet between the two seats. Finally, he placed a little brown paper parcel on the glove box drawer, and plugged his phone into the multimedia system: A soft deep house beat started to ooze through the speakers of the car, alike to some primitive chants and drums, rather repetitive and mildly hypnotic. It seemed everything was in place for some pagan rite to begin.
“- You’ve been quite helpful so far Kirsten … and very brave too, I give you that!
- But … ?
- Ha ha … there’s no ‘but’. We just happen to be ready to take another step, if you agree, and maybe achieve in a day, what most people are pursuing for months, or even years.”
Her heartbeat accelerated, as her brain went in overdrive. What is it that he wanted? Was he going to kiss her in this car? That was clearly in the highly probable range. Was he going to fuck her, and would she run away? Nothing was more unclear.
“- I … agree?!” she heard herself utter, in a shaky voice. The music kept going, and the beat was building up, in a heady manner. He looked at her with the same reassuring smile under the steel eyes, and continued with a quiet and sovereign voice:
“- Okay then … fold back your seat. Yes … like that … good. Lie back. As you know, there’s something essential to any friendship, something that grows and persists as the foundations of a lifelong trusted relationship. Do you understand what I am saying?” And as he spoke, he was meticulously knotting the two shoestrings to form a sort of figure of eight. Then delicately taking her hands, he passed one in each loop and fastened the knots, effectively restraining her ability to separate them. She observed the process with widening eyes, not entirely sure about what was the most appropriate way to either rebel … or tag along! His gestures kept slow and precise, there was no hesitation, and he continued:
“- It is about bonding, and weaving joint memories both of us will never forget … it’s about creating ties, and not just literally so!” he added with a soft chuckle, as he finished fastening the string handcuffs around her wrists. She decided to stay completely still, exception made of her chest rapidly moving up and down, as she was drawing more oxygen for her boiling blood. Surprised and slightly ashamed, she saw the cone of her nipples growing pointy through her blouse and bra. Shit! This had always been her curse since high school, but in this moment, she couldn’t really get upset about it.
Louis kept talking with a soothing voice, whilst he rolled up her skirt along her thighs, his only possible goal being to expose her panties to his naked eye. Apparently satisfied to have turned the skirt into a belt, revealing Kirsten’s white lace G string, he reached out to the scissors, and tried out their sharpness by quickly actioning them a few times: Snip snip! The sound produced overlayed nicely with the potent beat in the background, like ride cymbals, and it whipped Kirsten’s nerves to their core, causing her to let out a high-pitched gasp. “- There’s this story of a Little Prince, traveling from planet to planet to find friends … ever heard of it?”, and seeing Kirsten’s interrogative eyes, he continued: “It’s French, a very poetic story that teaches a lot about relationships …” He placed his cool left hand on her warm belly, and she thrilled, when his thumb and index found their way to the waist string, pulled it up, and sectioned it with the scissors. He repeated the same procedure on the other side. “And there’s this chapter where the Prince lands on a planet, and meets a pretty Fox …” Kirsten closed her eyes, the voice of Louis only reaching her muffled now, as blood came pounding again inside her skull, was she becoming deaf? Not quite, since the music was still very present, her pulse full synched with the 100 beat. She felt herself lifting her hips to ease the extraction of her undies. “Gosh! Am I really such a slut?” She was now so exposed to him … was she wet already? It definitely felt like it! As she reopened her eyes, she saw him starting to undo one by one the buttons of her blouse, and within seconds her bra was simply lifted up to reveal the two pale globes, crowned by pink nipples having long reached their fully excited state.
“- The Prince wants to meet men, to make friends out of them, but the Fox informs him about his mistake, men can’t be trusted and relied on, most of them having lost their way and the real meaning of friendship.”. Could he just shut up!? What did he think … that she could seriously follow his bloody story in such an altered state? Louis took in each hand the Nutella pot and the tube of concentrated milk, and presented them over her face: “Now … choose your medicine, and show me where it hurts!” Kirsten’s mind was racing, he was patching her up by the campfire, she could relate to that. And some control was offered back to her, was she going to miss out? Eying at both sugar rich products, she decided to grab the milk, and while he was placing back the Nutella on the console, she squeezed it with her joint hands to let the sleek liquid spread over her left nipple. “What was he gonna do about it!!!??” she thought hysterically. She was quite breathless, and her own tongue involuntarily darted onto her superior lip, as he approached his to start licking the sugary substance, and wipe her clean. “Oh my …!” A train of spasms came up from her groin, and she moaned as the agile piece of flesh gently swirled around her tit. She squeezed again the tube to pour a generous dose on the right one, in search for balance. She couldn’t stop her brain from processing quantitative information in the background: What was the volume contained in this tube? How much squeeze did she get to use? What if she ran out before reaching the C-spot? Will she get to tap into the Nutella? Or was ‘choosing’ like ‘excluding’ in this shamanic world? Teeth pinched her flesh, and she whooped, but then groaned pleasurably to encourage her carer. She brought the tube to her lips and coated them with the sweet white cream, then waited for the liberating kiss … which eventually came, the soft brushing strokes of a tongue first … then firm and warm lips meeting hers for a long and passionate exploration.
He pulled back to whisper in a smile “I knew it would hurt here!”. Panting and riveting her eyes into his, she squeezed the tube again, remotely, to feel the milk syrup drip onto her vulva. Now they were talking, and she was showing him the real deal, and the bitch she could be. But to her disappointment, he did not seem very keen to go down on her. Instead, he grabbed the box of strawberries, and resumed talking: “So the Fox tells the Little prince, that it can be his friend … it just needs to be tamed!” Tamed … what did that mean? For fuck sake, could he just stop talking … “And as the Little Prince wonders, the Fox explains that this is a process that makes people unique in all the world for each other”. He took a red and shiny strawberry by the tail, and approached it from Kirsten’s pussy, starting to spread the milk with it, and gently rubbing her clitoris. “That’s it!... That’s it!” she heard herself uttering several times. Slowly going down, he used the tip of the fruit to spread open the labia, exciting them with the grainy surface of the berry, that he expertly rotated between his fingers. Reaching out further down, he delicately inserted the fruit and the tip of his fingers into her vagina, warm and dripping wet, the milk mixing oddly with her body fluids. Kirsten threw her head backwards and moaned loudly. And as she brought her head forward, it was to face the fruit presented to her mouth: She bit into it with undisguised greed, leaving only the green tail hanging between Louis’s fingers. He gave her an appreciative smile, nodded, and repeated the operation several times, alternatively feeding her and himself. Around them, the music had grown louder, in a trance rhythm that completely dispelled their perception of time and space.
She was feeling saturated with sugar, and was mildly aware of the blood red juice and white milk dripping around her lips … all of them! She was in a strange state, altogether pumped by the sugar rush, and exhausted from the hormonal shockwaves her body was experiencing. Louis took the berries away, and opened the pot of Vaseline. “What is he up to now?” thought Kirsten, still panting and occasionally shivering from the gentle waves of excitement coming from her vagina. “The Little Prince still struggles with the idea of taming, and what makes his rose, the flower he has back home, unique in all the world…”. Here goes again, sighed Kirsten as her partner rambled on. Although the words were starting to find their way to her cortex, she was now trying to remember the beginning of the story. Louis chipped a bit of the oily substance from the pot, rubbing his fingers with it before delicately applying it onto her butthole. What!? Troubled, she waggled a bit to express her surprise, but he put his left hand on her stomach in a reassuring gesture, while proceeding with the generous application of Vaseline on her anus. She was getting jittery, and thought about something to say … anything! Was he seriously going to sodomise her in this car? Nervously, she looked at his groin to detect any precursor signs of penile invasion, but he was still wearing his trousers, and in the dim light, it was hard to say whether or not he even had an erection. She tried to adjust herself again to express her reserve, but the only feedback she got was him firmly pulling her down, and lifting her two legs up, for prime access to his target.
A first inquisitive finger popped inside her and she gasped, her eyes rotating madly in their orbits. The contact was surprisingly soft and agreeable, proof that the Vaseline was a good call. The finger went out and Louis spoke again, while grabbing the small brown parcel to unwrap it: “So the Fox shares a couple of secrets with the Little Prince, before he leaves its planet, things that men seem to have long forgotten …”. The item he extracted from the parcel was unusual, silver like, with an ogive shaped end, a silver bullet of sorts. Grabbing a cleaning wipe, he was now polishing it, rotating it between his fingers, and she could see that the other end was flat, and ornamented with a red faceted gem stone. Probably just glass or plastic she thought, but the bulb-shaped body was clearly made of steel. Fuck!... Was that the item he purchased in the adult store? Was it…. a plug!?!? The man was clearly excited, yet fully focused on his task. He rubbed a bit of Vaseline on the metallic end of the object, and then grasped it like a syringe, to approach it from her a-hole. “It’s gonna happen … it’s gonna happen!” she silently yelled, gulping to suppress her panic attack and closing her eyes to deny the entire ceremony. “And the Fox tells him this: It is the time you waste on your rose, that makes her so important … It is the time you waste on your rose, that makes her so important …” he repeated, while pushing forward. Kirsten felt the cold contact of the metal only for a fraction of a second, the material warming up quickly as it merged with her overheated flesh. She held her breath in the opening phase, and exhaled loudly as the plug was suddenly swallowed, only stopped in its progression by its flat base hitting her anal ring. Her mind went blank … she was speechless … just letting the feeling settle … and curious to find out what … bliss … sensational! She was feeling … whole, somehow! She indulged in the endless drift this was giving her. In the distance, Louis urged her again:
“- Repeat what I just said Kirsten!
- Awww… Uh … It is … the time … you spend on your … aww … rose … that makes her … so important …
- That’s it. Good girl. Make sure to remember that.”
Her head was spinning, and as she briefly opened her eyes, she could see that the car windows were now fully covered in condensation. The music was so loud, and the beat so present … were they going to alert the neighbours? She could feel the bass and drums throughout her whole body, was it coming from the car seat? Louis face appeared over hers, and with a lusty smile he asked her “Do you like that?” Peeking below, she realised it was him, tapping the jewel end of the plug with his knuckles, in rhythm with the track. That’s what reverberated between all ends of her wanting body. She nodded and smiled, and for a moment she was envious of his point of view. Surely, this red jewel sitting on top of her butthole must be something to be remembered of! “Greedy me!” she thought, and lying back again, she surrendered to the waves of pleasure, as the beat kept going on!
***
## Epilogue
Louis had left the car with a simple statement, delivered in a wink: “Now I know I can trust you. I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ve got work to do. Thanks for the ride!”
Stunned, she had watched him disappear in a grey blur through the windshield now dripping with condensation. Just like that!? He had left her half naked, panting, covered in various substances, stuff scattered everywhere, music banging in her ears, in a rental car and in the middle of a fucking storm?! And on top of that only half fucked with a plug stuck in her ass?? She should be furious, she wanted to be mad at him … but strangely enough, the only emotion she was able to summon right now was a rare form of serenity, coated with astonishment, at the reminiscences of the ritual that was just performed.
It took her some time to groom up the car, compose herself and wipe the windows clean, but she was grateful for that, the dust had settled in the process, bringing clarity to her mind. She turned the radio on and pumped the volume up. She was still wearing the plug, and had actually no desire to remove it until later that night. Feeling naughty, she anticipated the pleasure of driving with it, and the alien sensation of the road bumps relayed directly to the intimate depths of her body through the seat! As she turned the engine on, she felt light hearted and had a bright smile pinned to her face. After all, it’s not every day you could make such a good friend? Tomorrow would never come soon enough!
The car erupted from the car park and dashed into the stormy night, leaving a loud techno beat in its splashing trail.
================
Monsieur KG
Kirsten was getting more and more nervous, without exactly knowing why. It was not her first nor her last quarterly meeting with the company’s top shareholders, and she could not reasonably put this unexpected inner unrest on the account of the recent merger they’d been going through, as the preliminary outcomes were clearly on the bright side. There was something else at play in this room, and as she was trying to focus on it, she realised that rather than nervous, she was more exactly anxious. “But about what, for fuck sake?” she mentally shouted. Or maybe from what?
Her eyes scrutinised the board room: It was tea break time, and soft babblings reverberated gently from the service area were the male dominated crowd had flocked, to indulge in an early sugar blast. Apart from her, the only other woman sitting on the board was Kaitleen, the head of marketing. Iron fist in a velvet glove, thought Kirsten with a faint smile, and God knew you had to be made of this kind of alloy to survive in this merciless corporate world, and in the pharmaceutical industry more broadly. Kaitleen was a friend, the 2Ks as they called themselves, and right now, she was busy gesturing some brainwashing spell with a killer smile to James P., who just injected nearly a billion dollars through the merger, and seemed genuinely curious to know which double digit percent of that would be swallowed by Kaitleen’s ambitious plans.
Kirsten stayed at her seat, mindlessly dipping her lips in her steaming hot mild latte, and flipping through the slides she was supposed to present in the next session, while still apprehensively glancing at the buffet over her screen. She was the chief scientist, and as such leading the R & D division, the sinews of war in this industry. Her slide deck was about to cover the perspectives of development of the group’s portfolio of molecules and products, at the light of the recent merger, something on which shareholders were likely to unconditionally grant her their trust, given her track records to date. This was all charted territory, and she could not possibly feel panicky about any of that. And yet, those funny butterflies in her guts wouldn’t be quiet.
She felt the gaze rather that she saw it, as a warm beam hitting her forehead, and bringing blood to pulsate heavily against her temples. Refraining from suddenly lifting her chin from her laptop, she blinked quickly a few times, as if to brush off a speckle of dust, and in the process frantically scanned a 60° arc of vision in front of her. And there they were, two gleaming charcoal eyes staring at her, with an incredible heat radiating from them. And she instantly knew that they were the only possible source of her jittery state of mind. Like unreal dancing flames, they seemed to flicker at the same pace than her own pulse, who had now probably reached close to a hundred, crossing her from head to toe in some sort of heathen beat. Who was this dangerous creature and who had let it loose in this 30th floor board room?
Getting a grip on herself, and widening her field of vision, Kirsten realised that the pair of branding irons belonged to this new face in the company, introduced as Louis and apparently in charge of strategic audit, which seemed to be enough to explain he was given clearance to this top-level meeting … as an auditor! Kirsten had briefly shaken his hand an hour ago, without granting him more than a polite smile, but she now acknowledged that it was when her unrest started. What was it with him? For an auditor, he seemed for the time particularly talkative, engaging two shareholders with some ideas that apparently made them nod a lot. He had a light asymmetric smile, revealing very white teeth, a prominent feature in his face, if to forget the probing and dancing eyes which kept occasionally darting at Kirsten over the right shoulder of one of the suits.
The man was of medium build, shaven bald, olive skin, the Mediterranean or Middle-Eastern type, definitely not from the local Anglo-Saxon pool. And honestly, he would have been completely average and unnoticeable … if only he didn’t talk and move. There was something almost abnormally elegant about that, not exactly feline but definitely animal. The confident smile and moving jaws made her think of something wolf-like, the general body stance a subtle power pose only modulated by two weaving hands, apparently hypnotising his audience across a rich spectrum of emotions. The more Kirsten watched this unfolding, the more she found it fascinating, and with a mild body thrill, she closed her mouth to prevent a sigh, as she realised her nipples were getting hard within the white lace of her bra. “What’s wrong with me? Where is your self-control Kirsten?”
The Chairman clapped his hands, and they were back in session.
***
## Scene 02
The air was still scorching hot on this corner of the street. Kirsten was controlling her breath to ventilate her body, and prevent as far as she could perspiration to form and accumulate in all these dark and remote parts of her person, starting with her armpits. Sydney’s summer was full on, and despite the cool influence of the southerlies, temperature at 5PM and something was still sitting steadily in the 30s. The ambient car traffic and the pavement radiating back a whole day of accumulated heat did not help. For a moment, she contemplated the option of retreating inside the supermarket, anticipating the cold air of the AC blowing on her forehead and naked shoulders, a highly tempting perspective. A quick glance at her wristwatch confirmed there were only 5 minutes left to the half, the agreed time for her meeting: Surely she could control herself, and stand outside to be visible, couldn’t she? She had been raised in the firm belief that one can achieve anything through proper exercise of their will power, and that mind was meant to prevail over matter, at least for superior human beings like her. These mantras never failed her so far, not career wise.
Using deep breathing to cool down, she mentally reviewed the achievements of the day to kill time, but this routine was quickly interrupted by the vivid memory of how painfully it had started, with her presentation to the board not unfolding exactly as planned. As she concluded her speech with a positive and reassuring final statement on the unique breadth of the portfolio and strength of the team, and was preparing to sit back, she had to face a robust round of questions from this unidentified so-called auditor, the skittish Mister Louis, who went on raising points (and relevant ones) for 10 long minutes, in front of a silent yet respectfully listening audience. Kirsten stoically faced the barrage, providing her best answers, although she was growing more and more incredulous and less and less comfortable dealing with what felt like a rain of blows given to her whole argumentation. The face of her prosecutor kept absolutely friendly all along, although the smile was starting to feel carnivorous, and the inquisitive eyes seemed to tear her wide open. To the question “Dr. Kirsten, how can you be sure you’ll deliver all the goals of your ambitious program with just 10% increase in your staff capacity?”, she grew exceedingly irritated and simply retorted “I think I can be trusted on that!”, which inevitably raised a few bushy eyebrows around the table, this line sounding unusual and odd in the mouth of the documented professional she was known to be. She then pinched her lips, as Louis delivered his coup-de-grace: “Certainly so … although you know better than anyone in this room that trust does not exclude control. But we can take that off-line. That’ll be all for me!”
She had been at best exposed, at worst humiliated in front of her peers, by a bloody nobody … or so it had seemed so far. Something she would have not bet on, when getting out of bed this morning. How fast things can happen… in particular bad ones. But she was a fighter, and a winner, and she had dedicated the rest of the morning thinking of a recovery move. At lunch-time, she was still pondering and weighting options, when she saw Louis coming to her, all smile and starting a casual conversation. What was said, she could not remember exactly, something about him being just arrived the day before from Europe and still unfamiliar with the city and the local culture, but clearly nothing sounding apologetic or whatsoever! She thought she would politely withdraw, but surprised herself sitting still and listening to him, enjoying somehow the spectacle given by his person: The bright flames dancing in his eyes, and his attractive hands gesturing in the air, drawing signs in some ancient language that her ears would not decipher, but that her guts turned out to be very aware of and receptive to.
So when he casually said that he was looking for some help to find his way around town, she heard herself spontaneously say “yes”, and offer to tour him around, today, after work. Really? What was that? She had at least a dozen other things to do after work, including going to the gym, or picking up her dry cleaning, or spending some time with one of her daughters, or just chilling home. But devoting an hour or two to saddle up a foreigner she barely knew, and moreover who publicly roasted her, clearly was at the end of the long tail! And still … here she was, standing in the heat of the day, waiting for him to show up. Retrospectively, she wanted to believe that this was part of her recovery move, her subconscious and intuition having made the right calls here, to promptly become closer to this man, get to know him and make him if not a friend, at least a supporter. After all, he seemed very influential with the board and she could take advantage of that, couldn’t she?
The man had a bland title: Strategic auditor … what does that even mean? Regardless, there was clearly strength and authority in him, that no smile could conceal, it was naturally radiating. In fact, compared to all the other men of the board, and any other men Kirsten could think of in her team and across the company, he appeared very different, almost like from a different species. Was it a European thingy? Maybe he was a big wig (so to speak for a bald guy!) in the group, and dropping in to act as a shadow COO, or even CEO? Yes, making a friend of him sounded more and more like a brilliant idea, and Kirsten was starting to feel cheered up by this train of thoughts speeding to restore her ego.
“Hello Kirsten! Sorry if I’m late?” Her heart skipped a beat, and she spun around herself as if stung by a bee. She hardly heard herself reply a vague “Hello”, as she was already falling hard inside the steel black eyes, sweat dripping along her neck, temples bursting with this insane African beat … who was she kidding after all?
Out of the haze, she heard him say: “So … shall we go shopping?”
***
## Scene 03
“- And where do you stay?” asked Kirsten, as they came inside the shopping centre. She was looking straight in front of her, avoiding direct contact with the dangerous eyes, and trying to regroup around the only project that seemed to make sense, out of the present situation: Find out who he really was and make a friend of him.
“- I found this little place on AirBnB, not far from here, it’s temporary obviously, I need something more … permanent.” Kirsten’s mind switched to its highly efficient analyst mode, there were important clues about to be given away, and she needed to make the best out of it.
“- Do you think you are going to love Sydney that much?”, she tried, now looking at the glass-like pavement of the main alley they were traveling, towards the local Woolies.
“- Ha ha …” His rich and bass laughter penetrated her brain like honey on a slice of sourdough, and at the same time whipped unsuspected nerves along her spine. “It’s not entirely as if I had a choice, there seems to be some work to do here … Plus, believe it or not, I am a creature of habit, and I need a living space I can truly own.” Kirsten shivered, blaming it on the freezing atmosphere of the building, although she was dimly aware of the way the man’s rich tone of voice was resonating across a deep layer of her brain.
“- But don’t worry Kirsten! I am not here to make your life miserable, if that was your next question. To the contrary maybe …”
Kirsten started to think of a polite way to refute the allusion, but the next question fell sharp, like a guillotine on her tongue: “Now, tell me, why are you here Kirsten?”. She froze up, lips half open and slightly trembling, looking at this face again, now free of any smile, simply wearing a grave and curious look, as silence settled between them for an endless pair of seconds. They were standing in front of the supermarket, with people going back and forth around them, but it seemed that a bubble of stillness had formed around them, an odd space time anomaly indefinitely cloaking them from the rest of the world. Why was she here … why was she here … what did he think?? It was HER plan, HER initiative, to get the measure of him and find out how he could fit in HER view of the world and … She was the local one, playing on HER home field, whereas he was a complete outsider, unaware of the way things were done here, without a clue about the culture … he was the vulnerable one. Yet, as she immersed herself again in those dark eyes, there was no sign of any such fragility, just pure determination, irresistible strength, and the dancing flames, lively manifestations of an intelligence sharp like a razor blade. She suddenly acknowledged there was no point in making up some bullshit.
“I am just here to help!” she replied in a breath.
“- Okay … I’ll take that as an answer for now… although I’m keen to find out who you’re really trying to help here, me or yourself?” did he add with a wink, bursting their bubble.
“- I thought you could say thank you!” she snapped, struggling to claw back some control.
“- It’s a bit too early for that, don’t you think? You know, this morning, you requested to be trusted… rings a bell? That was a big ask! Well, lucky you … this is your chance… to give me a proof of trust. Shall we?”
And without waiting for her to reply, he made a step towards the entrance of the shop, with his right hand trailing back towards her. Once again, her brain shifted to an altered state, an accelerated one as the world went to slow motion around her, just like in some movie scene leading to climax. She was standing there, all sweaty and cold, the blurred silhouette of this big unknown of a man going away from her, strangely causing her grief and frustration. But his right hand was lingering, offered as an invite to follow him, reachable, radiating a warm glow. A finely manicured hand yet made of incredibly attractive thick and strong fingers, with a palm travelled by mysterious lines and furrows she was suddenly craving to feel and explore with the end of her own fingers … with the tip of her tongue?! Her eardrums were pounding hard, with this heathen beat again, something richer than just a heartbeat, as if made of superimposed echoes of several of her organs pulsating on a different rhythm. Vision of a drum kit … and of a pond covered in ripples caused by the first drops of a heavy summer rain. She wanted to scream, and she thought she tried to … but nothing came out of her throat, gone terribly dry. In slow motion, she was just a witness, of her own hand reaching out and her fingers clasping the man’s hand. “Is there a way back from that?” was the only question left drifting on her liberated mind.
“- Fair enough!” she declared jauntily, “I’ll do my best!”
“- Good, let me see … I’ve got a list of my absolute and immediate necessities…” he casually indicated, while extracting a piece of paper from his back pocket and handing it over to her. She avidly grabbed it and unfolded it, with the pleasant feeling that she was getting hold of herself. A list, that’s what she needed to anchor back into a more solid reality, it was bringing her onto familiar turf and resupplying her with initiative.
“- Men in a supermarket are like mice in a labyrinth, and we don’t want this experiment to go on for hours!
- Don’t we? Something tells me the scientist in you would not mind though…” he suggested, picking a basket and following her into the first aisle.
Kirsten was running through the list, as she walked to the assumed location for the first item: Vaseline was to be found in skin care and personal hygiene. Did Louis have skin problems? Not that she could tell, his Mediterranean complexion was gorgeous, and his lips smooth and full … ahem… What were the other entries in this list: Black shoelaces … cleaning wipes … Okay, so maybe something to do with the care of leather shoes? That would make sense … what else: Scissors … why not a nail clipper? Nutella … for breakfast? Cherries or Strawberries … okay, they’d go to the fruits & veggies section last. Concentrated milk … undoubtedly, Mister Louis had rather unorthodox breakfast habits! As she kneeled down to pick the small pot of Vaseline, Kirsten could not help sniggering and asking: “Really, you have the most unusual notions about bare necessities, Louis! Seriously … between Vaseline and concentrated milk … traveling alone does no good to a man, what would Mrs Louis think about that?” In your teeth, man! And as she flipped her head around to read the reactions on his face, she was taken aback, realising that he was also kneeling just behind her, his nose and mouth just centimetres away from her cheek. The surprise almost knocked her back on her bum, but a firm hand landed on her left hip and helped her find her balance. Feeding on the raw emotion painted all over her face, he slowly replied, in a spiced breath: “If Mrs Louis were here, she would have no trouble at all connecting the dots, my dear! But you are excused … for now!”
And unexpectedly, Kirsten started to snigger again … and laugh … and giggle … uncontrollably so! The words had hit a spot in her brain … unlocked some floodgate, and the emotion was now pouring out, in a generous flow. The whole experience, this weird situation, the improbable posture … that was so surreal! She kept chuckling and chortling at the thought, while Louis was rubbing his hand from her hip towards her loins. Was he going to lift her up or what? God forbid! She was hiccoughing and feeling overwhelmed by her own giggles, this was starting to sound really insane, but anywise she could not care less, it all had to go out, to be released, some form of accumulated energy had reached its breakpoint. She vaguely remembered having experienced that before, a long time ago, archaic reminiscence of a fantastic orgasm accidentally provided by an early lover. Louis finally gave her a hand to stand up, and she looked down to the basket, holding the pot of Vaseline. She felt relieved and light-hearted now, and she said the only thing there was to say at this very moment: “Come on, this basket is not going to fill up by itself!”. With a glint of surprise and admiration in his eyes, he followed her to the next aisle.
***
## Scene 04
“- No darling, I won’t be too long … No, it’s all good, nothing I can’t handle. These shareholders are easy to please, especially with our 2017 results… I need to be there for this dinner… I know it was not planned!... Yes, I’ll drive the car back home … Promised, I won’t drink too much! Love you! Bye... bye.”
Kirsten cut the line and stared at the phone screen for a few seconds, uncertain why she just threw a blatant lie at the face of her husband. Something she never did before, or only mildly so.
They were now walking up Oxford St, Louis carrying the Woolies bag, filled with his precious supplies. A few minutes ago, they had gone out of the shopping centre laughing like teenagers, proud and happy of the silly jokes they both committed along the way to the checkout. Kirsten wanted to believe that her evil plan was unfolding perfectly, the man obviously being flipped over, ready to eat grain from the palm of her hand. Victory! Wasn’t it? That’s when Louis had asked her to come with him to another shopping place. More than a question, it was a statement, and something in her had wanted to start a riot: Wasn’t that enough? She had just spent over an hour of her precious time to help him buy his bloody stuff! What a fucking weirdo, time to bail out, she had better things to do … hadn’t she?
A dark sky was building up over the City, and the air was filling with this familiar electricity only summer storms can whip up that quickly. The sun was still bright close to the horizon line, and casting incredible golden rays over the metropolis, one of them incidentally hitting the handsome interrogative facial features of Louis, as he was patiently expecting her answer. A pure moment in time, she took a mental snapshot, and with a sudden intimate perception of doom, she knew for sure she’d follow him to the next star system, would she have to.
“- And what is it you now want, Mister Demanding?” she said weakly, in a vain attempt to buy time.
“- Something that absolutely requires a woman’s opinion … and your opinion on this matter seems quite essential.
- But I can’t … I mean I have to … it’s late already and …
- Look … you can say that, and go back to your well-trodden track, no drama, I understand. Or … you can make it happen. It’s your choice. It’s yours, you understand? I am here, in need of a trusted friend. Are you going to do something about it? Or will you just let me go, alone in Sydney’s cloak and sword alleys, and possibly let me fall between the wrong hands?
- (sigh)… I am afraid … it’s beyond my …
- It is not, and you know it. Why don’t you make this call? Hurry up, before the rain starts …”
The two flames in the pitch-black eyes had turned blue, strangely enough, the searing blue heat of a gas only found in the remotest super novae. It was beyond any hunger she had ever experienced, and as for her, she felt incredibly thirsty, thinking of herself incapable of speech anymore as, almost unwittingly, she extracted the phone from her handbag.
The first series of thunders rolled on menacingly in the distance, drawing Kirsten out of her day time dreaming. She finally raised her eyes to ask:
“- So … Where are we going?
“- We are there.” he simply replied, pointing his chin to the blinking blue neon sign: The Toolshed. With his free hand, he invited her to climb the blue lit stairs first, and with only a slight hesitation she made a move. She was wearing a summer skirt ending just above the knees, and as she started her ascension of the steep staircase, she became utterly aware of her long, strong and milky naked legs being so much exposed to his eyes. She bit her lips and closed her eyes, half expecting the feel of his hand brushing them from ankles to … Gosh! A shockwave of excitement jolted across her groin, she felt her most intimate velvet curls turning into a pool of moisture, and she struggled to keep her cotton-like thighs pushing up the stairs. “Fucking hell! What am I doing here!” she yelled in the utter void of her mind.
It was a sex shop, obviously, and a large one, with meters of shelving presenting to the browsing visitor pretty much everything the twisted minds of generations of perverts could have possibly imagined in terms of sex toys, fetish props, costumes and substances. In all flavours, colours, sizes, patterns, and prices. Kirsten was eyes wide open at the gargantuan collection of items, and was sitting on the fence between horrified disgust and lusty curiosity. Behind the counter, a bald skinny face turned to them and started cackling welcome words, obviously happy and relieved to see living beings showing up at this early time of his night shift. He grinned at the visitors and looked unnaturally shiny as he moved under a spotlight. Kirsten realised this was caused by the countless piercings he wore all over his face, their number only challenged by the quantity of beauty marks the man was otherwise displaying. A total freak, not completely out of place though.
“- Can I help you with anything?” the man croaked. “- That’s OK mate, we’ll be browsing for a bit” replied Louis, sending the disappointed soul in a limping retreat to his computer screen. Without a look nor a word to her, Louis started to absorb himself into the items displayed in a corner shelf, leaving Kirsten standing in the middle of the room, uneasy. A bit frustrated and angry by this sudden lack of attention to her person, she decided to find refuge in the first aisle in front of her. Quickly enough, she realised her mistake: Given the variety of oversized silicon and latex penises on display, and the colourful covers of the DVDs in racks offering exclusively male casts, mostly in leather and steel, she was clearly in the gay section. Her breathing was getting shorter, her neck was stiff, and as she mechanically pressed her handbag against her chest in a wretched manner, she realised that her breasts had become hard again and utterly sensitive to the friction of fabric. Backing out in the open, she glanced again at Louis, who was still leaning against the same shelf, carefully studying minute differences between two articles. “What the fuck is he doing? One more minute and I’m out of here …” she promised to herself, while walking around to find another spot where she could hide.
From the back of the shop, behind a curtain, she could hear some growling and howling coming up, at regular intervals. That teased her curiosity just enough to walk closer, and confirm her impression that there was some animal whinging in the back office, probably a dog? The howling was rather blood chilling, and with growing alarm she went to the shop manager to ask: “Excuse me … what’s going on over there?”, pointing her finger towards the curtains. The man lifted his eyes over his narrow glasses, and with a shrug casually replied “Cruising!”. Cruising … what the heck? That didn’t make any sense. “What do you mean ‘cruising’ ??” she insisted. The man looked more bored than annoyed, and added “It’s our cruising area … but sorry darling, it’s for men only. Maybe your friend wants to have a look?” he whispered with a dirty look, his tobacco ridden tongue darting out. Kirsten refrained from wincing, and tried to pull her ideas together. The growling continued, getting more intense if anything, and she pointed it out to the creep: “Did you hear that? What’s this howling in your back room? Cruising or not, it sounds to me like an animal is being abused!”. The man raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely astonished, pondered the matter for a bit, and with a sudden expression of understanding explained: “Oh … that! It must come from one of our video cabin, someone must have not locked the door properly. I can guarantee there’s no animal here. You can have a look if you want.” And he dug his head back into his screen, with no apparent intention to resolve the matter any further.
Kirsten tossed her options for a while, at the other end of room Louis was now kneeling to watch closer items on display on the lower shelf. “It’s a bloody joke! What an asshole …” she bitched heatedly, while walking slowly towards the curtain. She pulled it aside, and failing to peer into the darkness, she passed through it, to discover a small corridor lit by a unique red spot. On the right, a small yellow neon sign simply stated “Cruising” above another staircase, muffled techno music coming down. On the left-hand side, a couple of doors, one of them half opened, and letting out the worrying animal grunts. A small monitor on the side was displaying a movie poster, obviously what was airing inside the cabin: The wolf of slut street. This could indeed explain that! Giving up on resisting temptation, she stepped inside the tiny room. She had come that far already, it would have been absurd not clear up the matter completely! On screen, what looked like a werewolf with serious genitals, was sniffing over the lying bodies of 2 lovely blondes, asleep in each other’s arms, barely covered in a light white linen that let to see most of their extremely advantageous tits and mouth-watering asses. That seemed to do it for the wolf man, who started to pant and moan as his monstrous cock grew bigger by the second.
In Kirsten’s opinion, this was absolutely grotesque, tacky, pathetic … yet she could not get her eyes off the scene, eager to find out what was going to happen next! The beast’s head was now hovering over the ass of one of the blondes … Kirsten felt the door open behind her, and briefly wondered if it was another monster coming for her, but the faint spicy fragrance told her it was Louis slipping in. Finally, was he done with is damn shopping?! His warm chest pressed against her back, and she let a series of resulting shivers travel up and down freely along her spine. Her hands probed back along the trousers of her companion, and started to find their way up, while he pressed his lips on her neckline, and started to gently bite her. On the screen, droplets of the sticky mouth fluids of the werewolf dripped on the buttocks of the girl, who eventually woke up in a bone chilling scream. The monster backed off and growled threateningly, and Kirsten involuntarily squeezed her hands on Louis’s groin, who in turn released a loud whinging grunt, to her sinful excitement. Gasping and panting, he recovered while Kirsten was watching the raping scene unfolding before her incredulous eyes. Louis muttered in her ears: “We are done here, let’s go!”
They rushed outside, to discover that the storm was now about to burst out over the City, the darkened street already deserted and hit by the first fat drops of rain. “- I could really use a ride?” he queried. She smiled and replied simply: “This way!”
***
## Scene 05
A deluge of rain was beating the faces of Sydney’s skyscrapers, and what was coming on the horizon looked even more worlds-end-esque. The lights had gone off in this ground level car park, under the building where Louis had his rental accommodation, and the electricity outage probably now spanned across several blocks. Curtains of water falling along the outside building walls where darkening even further the basement, giving it the grim look of some primitive grotto shelter. Kirsten had parked the GoGet car between two concrete pillars, and from the inside of the vehicle, they were now silently staring at the cataracts through the windshield, on which condensation was slowly building up. A comfortably quiet and numb moment, after the rush through the flooded streets of the city, and the loud assaults of the monsoon rain against the metal and plastic body of the car. Louis had been silent for a few minutes, and so was Kirsten, respectful of that, but also strangely absorbed in the meditative contemplation of the moment, any notion of time and location momentary lost.
Something was yet to happen, without exactly knowing what, she was already accepting it, in a cheerful manner, and also curious to see the dots finally connecting under her marvelled eyes. The applied scientist in her was craving for that, somehow it was her experiment about to unravel, she had invested herself heavily in it, she even exposed herself, and consciously or not she had signed off on all the risks attached. She had given a lot to this man, and now her time had come to harvest and take back! Yes! Yes? But take what exactly? Her thoughts got stuck on this low orbit, revolving faster and faster to the point of nausea. She decided to reach escape velocity … empty her mind, reset, and observe again, at a sensorial and limbic level. Something else was going on. The smell of wet leather and clothing … the excessive moist in the air … the chest of Louis moving up and down regularly … the rumbling of the thunder … the receding daylight … this was raw, and primal, and timeless … she could have been sitting here in any age, in any cave of any continent, during any storm … but not with any man!
Louis stirred and opened the glove box, summoning its dim light as one of his prehistoric ancestors would have sparked a campfire. Dozens of questions would have normally spawned in her head, starting with “Is he going to invite me for a drink upstairs?” but she abruptly silenced them down, to observe quietly. Obviously, this was meant to happen here, the man had made a decision, and he was staging the scene. The car papers were pulled out and thrown under the passenger seat, and Louis started to pick items one by one from the bag of supplies: The scissors came out first, and were placed on the tablet, then the Vaseline pot. Still silent, he glanced at her with a warm reassuring smile while he was unpacking the shoe laces, and gauging if their length would be sufficient for whatever purpose he had in mind. She didn’t flinch, and clearly made a point about it, withstanding his inquisitive gaze. Apparently satisfied, he kept pulling stuff from the bag: He popped the Nutella pot open, removed the protective film, and left it open on the console. The tube of concentrated milk followed the same path, and the cleaning wipes landed next to the scissors. This was starting to feel very surgical thought Kirsten, and she couldn’t completely suppress the slight uneasiness that resulted. Louis unpacked the strawberries and delicately put them on the tablet between the two seats. Finally, he placed a little brown paper parcel on the glove box drawer, and plugged his phone into the multimedia system: A soft deep house beat started to ooze through the speakers of the car, alike to some primitive chants and drums, rather repetitive and mildly hypnotic. It seemed everything was in place for some pagan rite to begin.
“- You’ve been quite helpful so far Kirsten … and very brave too, I give you that!
- But … ?
- Ha ha … there’s no ‘but’. We just happen to be ready to take another step, if you agree, and maybe achieve in a day, what most people are pursuing for months, or even years.”
Her heartbeat accelerated, as her brain went in overdrive. What is it that he wanted? Was he going to kiss her in this car? That was clearly in the highly probable range. Was he going to fuck her, and would she run away? Nothing was more unclear.
“- I … agree?!” she heard herself utter, in a shaky voice. The music kept going, and the beat was building up, in a heady manner. He looked at her with the same reassuring smile under the steel eyes, and continued with a quiet and sovereign voice:
“- Okay then … fold back your seat. Yes … like that … good. Lie back. As you know, there’s something essential to any friendship, something that grows and persists as the foundations of a lifelong trusted relationship. Do you understand what I am saying?” And as he spoke, he was meticulously knotting the two shoestrings to form a sort of figure of eight. Then delicately taking her hands, he passed one in each loop and fastened the knots, effectively restraining her ability to separate them. She observed the process with widening eyes, not entirely sure about what was the most appropriate way to either rebel … or tag along! His gestures kept slow and precise, there was no hesitation, and he continued:
“- It is about bonding, and weaving joint memories both of us will never forget … it’s about creating ties, and not just literally so!” he added with a soft chuckle, as he finished fastening the string handcuffs around her wrists. She decided to stay completely still, exception made of her chest rapidly moving up and down, as she was drawing more oxygen for her boiling blood. Surprised and slightly ashamed, she saw the cone of her nipples growing pointy through her blouse and bra. Shit! This had always been her curse since high school, but in this moment, she couldn’t really get upset about it.
Louis kept talking with a soothing voice, whilst he rolled up her skirt along her thighs, his only possible goal being to expose her panties to his naked eye. Apparently satisfied to have turned the skirt into a belt, revealing Kirsten’s white lace G string, he reached out to the scissors, and tried out their sharpness by quickly actioning them a few times: Snip snip! The sound produced overlayed nicely with the potent beat in the background, like ride cymbals, and it whipped Kirsten’s nerves to their core, causing her to let out a high-pitched gasp. “- There’s this story of a Little Prince, traveling from planet to planet to find friends … ever heard of it?”, and seeing Kirsten’s interrogative eyes, he continued: “It’s French, a very poetic story that teaches a lot about relationships …” He placed his cool left hand on her warm belly, and she thrilled, when his thumb and index found their way to the waist string, pulled it up, and sectioned it with the scissors. He repeated the same procedure on the other side. “And there’s this chapter where the Prince lands on a planet, and meets a pretty Fox …” Kirsten closed her eyes, the voice of Louis only reaching her muffled now, as blood came pounding again inside her skull, was she becoming deaf? Not quite, since the music was still very present, her pulse full synched with the 100 beat. She felt herself lifting her hips to ease the extraction of her undies. “Gosh! Am I really such a slut?” She was now so exposed to him … was she wet already? It definitely felt like it! As she reopened her eyes, she saw him starting to undo one by one the buttons of her blouse, and within seconds her bra was simply lifted up to reveal the two pale globes, crowned by pink nipples having long reached their fully excited state.
“- The Prince wants to meet men, to make friends out of them, but the Fox informs him about his mistake, men can’t be trusted and relied on, most of them having lost their way and the real meaning of friendship.”. Could he just shut up!? What did he think … that she could seriously follow his bloody story in such an altered state? Louis took in each hand the Nutella pot and the tube of concentrated milk, and presented them over her face: “Now … choose your medicine, and show me where it hurts!” Kirsten’s mind was racing, he was patching her up by the campfire, she could relate to that. And some control was offered back to her, was she going to miss out? Eying at both sugar rich products, she decided to grab the milk, and while he was placing back the Nutella on the console, she squeezed it with her joint hands to let the sleek liquid spread over her left nipple. “What was he gonna do about it!!!??” she thought hysterically. She was quite breathless, and her own tongue involuntarily darted onto her superior lip, as he approached his to start licking the sugary substance, and wipe her clean. “Oh my …!” A train of spasms came up from her groin, and she moaned as the agile piece of flesh gently swirled around her tit. She squeezed again the tube to pour a generous dose on the right one, in search for balance. She couldn’t stop her brain from processing quantitative information in the background: What was the volume contained in this tube? How much squeeze did she get to use? What if she ran out before reaching the C-spot? Will she get to tap into the Nutella? Or was ‘choosing’ like ‘excluding’ in this shamanic world? Teeth pinched her flesh, and she whooped, but then groaned pleasurably to encourage her carer. She brought the tube to her lips and coated them with the sweet white cream, then waited for the liberating kiss … which eventually came, the soft brushing strokes of a tongue first … then firm and warm lips meeting hers for a long and passionate exploration.
He pulled back to whisper in a smile “I knew it would hurt here!”. Panting and riveting her eyes into his, she squeezed the tube again, remotely, to feel the milk syrup drip onto her vulva. Now they were talking, and she was showing him the real deal, and the bitch she could be. But to her disappointment, he did not seem very keen to go down on her. Instead, he grabbed the box of strawberries, and resumed talking: “So the Fox tells the Little prince, that it can be his friend … it just needs to be tamed!” Tamed … what did that mean? For fuck sake, could he just stop talking … “And as the Little Prince wonders, the Fox explains that this is a process that makes people unique in all the world for each other”. He took a red and shiny strawberry by the tail, and approached it from Kirsten’s pussy, starting to spread the milk with it, and gently rubbing her clitoris. “That’s it!... That’s it!” she heard herself uttering several times. Slowly going down, he used the tip of the fruit to spread open the labia, exciting them with the grainy surface of the berry, that he expertly rotated between his fingers. Reaching out further down, he delicately inserted the fruit and the tip of his fingers into her vagina, warm and dripping wet, the milk mixing oddly with her body fluids. Kirsten threw her head backwards and moaned loudly. And as she brought her head forward, it was to face the fruit presented to her mouth: She bit into it with undisguised greed, leaving only the green tail hanging between Louis’s fingers. He gave her an appreciative smile, nodded, and repeated the operation several times, alternatively feeding her and himself. Around them, the music had grown louder, in a trance rhythm that completely dispelled their perception of time and space.
She was feeling saturated with sugar, and was mildly aware of the blood red juice and white milk dripping around her lips … all of them! She was in a strange state, altogether pumped by the sugar rush, and exhausted from the hormonal shockwaves her body was experiencing. Louis took the berries away, and opened the pot of Vaseline. “What is he up to now?” thought Kirsten, still panting and occasionally shivering from the gentle waves of excitement coming from her vagina. “The Little Prince still struggles with the idea of taming, and what makes his rose, the flower he has back home, unique in all the world…”. Here goes again, sighed Kirsten as her partner rambled on. Although the words were starting to find their way to her cortex, she was now trying to remember the beginning of the story. Louis chipped a bit of the oily substance from the pot, rubbing his fingers with it before delicately applying it onto her butthole. What!? Troubled, she waggled a bit to express her surprise, but he put his left hand on her stomach in a reassuring gesture, while proceeding with the generous application of Vaseline on her anus. She was getting jittery, and thought about something to say … anything! Was he seriously going to sodomise her in this car? Nervously, she looked at his groin to detect any precursor signs of penile invasion, but he was still wearing his trousers, and in the dim light, it was hard to say whether or not he even had an erection. She tried to adjust herself again to express her reserve, but the only feedback she got was him firmly pulling her down, and lifting her two legs up, for prime access to his target.
A first inquisitive finger popped inside her and she gasped, her eyes rotating madly in their orbits. The contact was surprisingly soft and agreeable, proof that the Vaseline was a good call. The finger went out and Louis spoke again, while grabbing the small brown parcel to unwrap it: “So the Fox shares a couple of secrets with the Little Prince, before he leaves its planet, things that men seem to have long forgotten …”. The item he extracted from the parcel was unusual, silver like, with an ogive shaped end, a silver bullet of sorts. Grabbing a cleaning wipe, he was now polishing it, rotating it between his fingers, and she could see that the other end was flat, and ornamented with a red faceted gem stone. Probably just glass or plastic she thought, but the bulb-shaped body was clearly made of steel. Fuck!... Was that the item he purchased in the adult store? Was it…. a plug!?!? The man was clearly excited, yet fully focused on his task. He rubbed a bit of Vaseline on the metallic end of the object, and then grasped it like a syringe, to approach it from her a-hole. “It’s gonna happen … it’s gonna happen!” she silently yelled, gulping to suppress her panic attack and closing her eyes to deny the entire ceremony. “And the Fox tells him this: It is the time you waste on your rose, that makes her so important … It is the time you waste on your rose, that makes her so important …” he repeated, while pushing forward. Kirsten felt the cold contact of the metal only for a fraction of a second, the material warming up quickly as it merged with her overheated flesh. She held her breath in the opening phase, and exhaled loudly as the plug was suddenly swallowed, only stopped in its progression by its flat base hitting her anal ring. Her mind went blank … she was speechless … just letting the feeling settle … and curious to find out what … bliss … sensational! She was feeling … whole, somehow! She indulged in the endless drift this was giving her. In the distance, Louis urged her again:
“- Repeat what I just said Kirsten!
- Awww… Uh … It is … the time … you spend on your … aww … rose … that makes her … so important …
- That’s it. Good girl. Make sure to remember that.”
Her head was spinning, and as she briefly opened her eyes, she could see that the car windows were now fully covered in condensation. The music was so loud, and the beat so present … were they going to alert the neighbours? She could feel the bass and drums throughout her whole body, was it coming from the car seat? Louis face appeared over hers, and with a lusty smile he asked her “Do you like that?” Peeking below, she realised it was him, tapping the jewel end of the plug with his knuckles, in rhythm with the track. That’s what reverberated between all ends of her wanting body. She nodded and smiled, and for a moment she was envious of his point of view. Surely, this red jewel sitting on top of her butthole must be something to be remembered of! “Greedy me!” she thought, and lying back again, she surrendered to the waves of pleasure, as the beat kept going on!
***
## Epilogue
Louis had left the car with a simple statement, delivered in a wink: “Now I know I can trust you. I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ve got work to do. Thanks for the ride!”
Stunned, she had watched him disappear in a grey blur through the windshield now dripping with condensation. Just like that!? He had left her half naked, panting, covered in various substances, stuff scattered everywhere, music banging in her ears, in a rental car and in the middle of a fucking storm?! And on top of that only half fucked with a plug stuck in her ass?? She should be furious, she wanted to be mad at him … but strangely enough, the only emotion she was able to summon right now was a rare form of serenity, coated with astonishment, at the reminiscences of the ritual that was just performed.
It took her some time to groom up the car, compose herself and wipe the windows clean, but she was grateful for that, the dust had settled in the process, bringing clarity to her mind. She turned the radio on and pumped the volume up. She was still wearing the plug, and had actually no desire to remove it until later that night. Feeling naughty, she anticipated the pleasure of driving with it, and the alien sensation of the road bumps relayed directly to the intimate depths of her body through the seat! As she turned the engine on, she felt light hearted and had a bright smile pinned to her face. After all, it’s not every day you could make such a good friend? Tomorrow would never come soon enough!
The car erupted from the car park and dashed into the stormy night, leaving a loud techno beat in its splashing trail.
================
Monsieur KG
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