4 comments/ 30472 views/ 0 favorites The Cock of Amontillado By: jthserra The Cock of Amontillado The thousand injuries I endured from Fortuna I could forget. I still love her and yet, when, in a moment of exhausting love I failed to rise to her expectation, she judged my physical shortcoming an insult. Yea, her verbal abuses often aroused me and often her feigned insult whispered in my peak of passion ecstatically finished me, but the look in her eye, as my confidence flagged into flaccid flesh sagging on her body, frightened me. When she ventured beyond insult and vowed revenge, I shuddered in fear, creeping from her bedroom back to my quarters. Any who truly know me would never doubt my intentions. Yet, she, who claimed to love me like no other, knew so little of me that she construed my failing body an insult to her. She spoke as if this was a point definitively settled and that she must not only punish me, but punish me with impunity. Those who know me I ask, could I have done more? Understand: a story of love and lovemaking begins at her bidding, so when she led me to her bedroom, I walked with that particular bulge inspired by the thought of only her. At her command, I pulled her to me, pressing my erection against her loins as I kissed her, feeling the intense passion that fired every ounce of this woman. Unfastening her gown, I let it fall to the floor as my hands roamed the soft curves of her, undulating as I untied the lace of her bodice and uncovered her ardent flesh. I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the divan, the place where she was most comfortable in our lover’s embrace. While she watched, running her hands over her bosom, teasing the fine niplets that rose spectacularly from them, I undressed quickly, finally easing my undergarment over my rigid tribute to her. In desperate hunger she grasped my member, drew it between her lips and suckled it, teasing the soft skin with her tongue. Enamored with her passion and driven by her persuasive technique, I quickly found myself reeling in a fit of pleasure and filled her mouth with the essence she seemed to most desire. The feral look in her eye showed me her pleasure as she swallowed. Wanting to help her desire further consume her, I fell to my knees and kissed up her thighs to her fragrant, liquid center. Pressing her wet feminine folds with my tongue, I drank from her waters and then moved to her divine nub, letting my fingers probe the depth of her want. In but a flash, she rose to me and flooded me with her pulsating wet love, moaning and whispering, “Fill me more, I need more of you!” Climbing upon the divan, I moved over her, my member once again inspired, and pressed myself into her. Spreading her legs wide to grant me this most intimate entrance, she pulled me with her arms, screaming, “More, more, give me more.” My flesh slapped upon hers as I thrust into her, my passion fired by her consummate need. Hence, my failing began when, duly fired by her complete ardor, my control wavered and I happened, depositing my wet love deep inside her. Suddenly her screams for more, fell painfully unrequited, as my cod shrank and fell from her body as she flailed beneath me. Wanting to continue my love, to extend her spell of passion, I fell back to my knees and splashed my face into her needy opening, but she grabbed my hair and tossed my head away. She screamed at me, “I could have any man and you dare to wilt before my phenomenal sex? Do you know who you insult?” “Madam,” I answered, “I truly love and adore you, knowing the mercy of your love and the depths of your passion. My body fails me as it fails you, exhausting itself in pursuit of a perfect love. Your charms consume me and I ask only your forgiveness and a time of rest until I can recover for you.” “Recover? I will take no weak lovers and will not endure the insult of your limp salute. You will salute me as a man now, or crawl away a simpering boy.” “But Lady, I have twice come in your service tonight and once have inspired your own spell…” “I demand more.” “Let my mouth and tongue bring you that delight.” “Can you plumb the depths of me with mouth and tongue?” “A certain depth yes, Madam.” “Not the depth I require. Leave me and send in the page that guards my door. I am certain that boy can service me.” “Madam, that lad is but nineteen and I am nearly thirty…” “Send him in.” I left her room and send the frightened lad to her. Reeling in shame, I went to the kitchen and had the servant pour an ale. The warm drink helped soothe me and I drank several goblets, wondering what the lady would do. The lady, though in all regards was a woman to be respected and lusted after, she prided herself a connoisseur, a connoisseur in not only love’s passion, but in wine. Sitting at the table I conceived a plan to win back her graces and offer apology for my impotence. I ordered the servant to run to the tavern for the two prized bottles of Amontillado the tavern keeper so often bragged about. Surviving her silence the rest of the night and throughout much of the day, I approached her chamber later in the day, carrying the ransom of her affection. Lacking the initial courage to finalize my plan, I drank several ales, letting the powerful mead bolster my strength, so it was about dusk, when I finally came to her door and knocked. The lady graciously dispatched her youthful lover and strangely and graciously bade me enter. She accosted me with excessive warmth, showing true excitement for the Amontillado, even offering me a drink from her finest goblet. I said to her after sharing some of the first bottle of wine, "My dear Fortuna, I am luckily met. How remarkably beautiful you appear to me.” She gently ran a hand across my face, that even in my inebriated state, I could not mistake for ardor. “I wish to visit my cellar, to place this second bottle of fine Amontillado. I think we can share another, more passionate treat in the cool there,” she said with a tone that caused my codpiece to bulge. Walking down the stairs I carried the unopened bottle as she followed, carrying the nearly empty bottle. Entering the basement, I turned and held her in a passionate embrace. We kissed, first clumsily and then more passionately until she pushed herself away saying, "Come let us go." "Where?" "To my vaults." Thus speaking, Fortuna took my arm and led me into the ancient rooms. The first room smelled damp and there were traces of water on the floors. Along each wall, beneath large brick archways were bottles and bottles stored on fine shelving, with easy access to allow for turning. “These are my Medocs, the Amontillado must be stored in the next room, with the fine sherry." My gait must have seemed unsteady, as she held me firmly as we walked into the next room. I ducked my head passing through the doorway and stepping inside. This room was much larger than the Medoc room, with dozens of arched openings containing shelves and bottles. I noticed toward the end of the room that several archways had been closed in with brick, but was immediately distracted from my survey when Fortuna spoke. “Here, have another drink,” she said, handing me the bottle. I gingerly held the full bottle as I took a large gulp from her bottle. The sweet liquid burned only a bit as I swallowed. I handed her the bottle and she held it up saying, “I drink to the buried that stand within these walls.” “And I to your magnificent beauty,” I replied, taking the bottle from her for another swig. Feeling a bit dizzy, I walked over to an archway, where the brick wall sealing it was only about three feet high. I sat on the wall and handed the unopened bottle to Fortuna for her to place on the racks. She carefully placed the bottle on one of the racks and then returned, standing before me. Suddenly, without warning she opened the top of her dress, exposing her luscious and amply bosom. I immediately rose, from the brick wall and in my codpiece. Reaching down, she grasped my ready manhood, and while squeezing it gently she leaned and whispered in my ear, “Oh, here is the best goblet for a fine Amontillado, let me taste it from your ready goblet.” I quickly pulled off my shirt and pants, kicked my shoes off as I nearly stumbled. She giggled until I eased my underclothes over my member, exposing its full hardened length to her. She pointed to the small space beyond the short wall and said, “This wall will make a fine table, you step beyond it and lean against the back wall.” Driven now by the force stretching from my body in yearning for hers, I stepped behind the wall. Looking down, I noticed my cod hung out over the brick wall, it was that close to me.She stepped over the wall and took the bottle from me, and placed it on her makeshift table. She took one of my arms and reached it up and out, clamping it in a shackle I had not noticed before. Seeing the odd look on my face, she said, “I bind you to enhance the passion.” Thinking but with my cod, I presented my other arm to her and watched as she shackled it also. I now stood naked before her, waiting for her to touch me, but instead she stepped away from me and stepped around a corner. She then returned, rolling a squeaky wooden cart shouting, “Ah, you have injured me for the last time with that fickle bone.” She busied herself, throwing aside the canvas and uncovering a quantity of building stone and mortar as she said these words. She began vigorously to finish walling up the opening beneath the arch with the materials. I wondered what sort of odd foreplay this was as she fitted a large pipe in the wall encircling my erection. My average size member looked dwarfed in the huge opening the pipe afforded a sight that sent a chill over me. She turned and moved to her cart to get more mortar and I took the opportunity to look to my right. There, just in the next archway, I could see the small opening between the front and back wall. Peeking into the small space, I noticed the bones of someone, shackled to the walls. Looking downward, I saw an enormous pipe opening where I imagine his cod once occupied. Finally realizing that Fortuna meant me great harm here, I let out a succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the depth of my gut. For a brief moment she hesitated, but then she looked down at my shrinking cod and with a renewed sense of urgency she continued placing the mortar and brick. When the wall reached the level of my eyes I began to scream once again, frightening myself with the bloodcurdling ferocity of my voice. She just look up at me, smiled and said, “Scream all you like, no one can hear you. But scream, please scream, the sound makes my sex wet.” I screamed again and then noticed her move toward the back wall, a place where I could see most of her body. “Please Fortuna, please set me free. I will only love you...” I paused as she lifted her skirt and moved her fingers between her lips and up into her sex. She then moved them up to the small but firm nub and toyed with it. “Fortuna, I could make you feel me again, I can love you.” My voice only seemed to encourage the movement of her hand as she caressed herself as I promised to do. I stood silently as she continued, starting into my eyes as she pleasured herself. In spite of the terror around me, I felt my cod growing once again, but seeing this growth through the large pipe in the wall, Fortuna went into a rage. “You fail me and then in ridicule you flaunt this hardness. Watch me as I take my pleasure again.” I watched her fingers touch her delicious sex, furiously working it until she bent her knees, groaned and climaxed, closing her eyes as she leaned against the wall. It was several minutes before she recovered, but when she did, she quickly sealed the wall up to the ceiling, ignoring even my most hideous pleadings. When she set the last brick, I listened, hoping somehow that this was a terrible joke, but I heard nothing. “Surely she hasn’t left me,” I screamed. “No, I haven’t left,” she said, her voice coming from a distance. “I will not waste my fine Amontillado on a piece such as this,” she said, taking firm hold of my cod. She stroked it, making it grow to its full length. “I will not waste the Amontillado, instead, you get Medoc.”I felt a liquid flow over my erection and then, could it be, yes… yes I felt her mouth close around me. I thought, “Oh thank the heavens, this is just an odd game for her.” Feeling her mouth and her hands work on me, I gave in to the pleasure washing over me. I was saved from a long death by the sweet lips of Fortuna. I called her name, “Fortuna... Fortuna, I love you so.” She continued suckling me without a word until I pressed my hips forward, giving my essence for her to drink. When I finished she pulled off of my cod and then I heard her voice as she walked away. “A tasty Medoc, but you are no Amontillado.” I listened as her feet clicked through the basement and to the stairs. The door then closed with a clunk and I was left alone. After a few hours, the last of the torches in the rooms burned out I was left in darkness. Over the next few days I called to her, “Fortuna!” No answer. I called again -- "Fortuna!” No answer still. I spent my last hours dreaming of her, the supple curve of her body, the exciting flavor of her sex, the ecstatic feel of her feminine folds and the incredible power of her tongue. Alas, my cod... my errant cod grew hard once again.