1 comments/ 31441 views/ 0 favorites Wild Desire By: seduceme46 The story you are about to read pertains to a writer searching for answers to support his quest for a better life. Future he so desperately seeks, as he tours the high seas and stumbles onto a beautiful witch with many powers and personalities that lures the main character in this story into a web of deceit. Then beginning her own quest for freedom once she escapes these trials and tribulations as a vicious panther. "Stan, what's the matter with you? Peter said. "Why the sour look on your face Stanley?" Peter adds, tipping his half glass of beer to his chapped dry lips. "I just came in from the frigid outdoors, Peter," said Stan, dusting off the snow. "Damn, still snowing out there?" "You better believe it is," Stan said, eyeballing the room and clutching his loins with one hand. "Sid. Who's the new waitress?" asks Stan, still studying the new girl with a hunger in his shifty eye. "A Girl that came in this morning looking for a job Stanley. And I hired her right away for obvious reasons," spoke Sid, towns favorite bartender. "Figured she would attract more folks to my tavern." Both looking over her body as though she was some sex object that was wiping down the tables with a modest waggle. Stan begins feasting his lustful eyes along the scattered three-piece suits, short skirts, and long dresses occupying each romantic booth along the four walls of the shiny aluminum foil. Each table neatly placed below the strobe lights, high overhead to slowly rotate before these young couples seated. Stanley was amongst his friends at the crowed bar to hear more war stories that his elderly friend drums-up each time Stan comes into Sid's bar. Just as he saw his book publishing agent staring down the girl with a certain gleam in one eye. "Hey, I pay you well Peter...my agent aren't you?" Stanley exclaims, tipping the glass to his blistered lips. "Yes! But why are you pissed off at me?" cries Peter. "Then keep your eyes to yourself before they fall into your lap and drop and roll down the middle of the floor," Stan scolds, with a huge giggle, as though Nancy was his. "It must be at least 30 degrees out there," spoke Sid, obese bartender with a curled up mustache and gray hair. "Hell yes," answered Stanley, still shedding the wet snow from his tight blue britches. "What's her name big guy...she single...'cause she sure is pretty," asks Stan. "I agree, she is pretty," Peter turned and said late. Trying to get back on Stan's good side after he had struck a nerve in Stanley a few moments ago. Both Sid and Stanley stares down Peter at the end of the marble bar counter with an astounding shake of their head, thinking what kind of drug Peter is on that makes him seems stupid at times. "Nancy," Sid replies. "At least that is what the application reads." "She's definitely a babe," says Stan, with one hand grasping hard his loins in front. "Wish I had someone like Nancy to keep me warm at nights, Stanley," said Peter. Teasing his thick mustache with two fingers as the entire counter took notice of the frail man's lust. "Hey, Stanley!" "Yes Peter," said Stan, Wondering what silly question is going to spill from his mouth now. "I simply can't find the time to enjoy life with all my clients breathing down my neck, beating down my front door, insisting I bleed the publishing companies dry, Stan buddy," Peter cries, too, scanning the young woman along with Sid and Stanley. Stan continues to wipe the remaining snow from his black overcoat, stomping the moisture from his galoshes as he motions with his head for the bartender to put together another Gin & Tonic as his eyes are set on Nancy. "When are you leaving, my friend?" Peter asks, allowing everyone in the joint to hear, witness the slurring pattern in his voice that had everyone in the tavern laughing to his drunken lisp. A brief pause fell over Stanley's answer of tomorrow when he became a bit tense. "I am leaving tomorrow morning Peter." Staring down this cute sexy server handling the circular tray with professionalism and greeting each customer with politeness. Heavy bosoms seeping out from the skimpy blue costume that sparkles with every gallant sway that Sid had given her to wear to attract more customers. "Mum yeah," Stan says under his breath, "I must touch your panty that of which is shiny silver," he adds, using only eye contact to lure Nancy's eyes his way. Studying Nancy's perfect measurements again in his mind was helping Stan's self-esteem along. "I got to have you," Stanley says using only his lips, "Your beautiful," he adds, convincing his friends she was not that great looking. Stanley watches with his lustful eyes, seeing Nancy Leaning further over the table, which leaves him breathless. Clearing off the many glasses and empty bottles left behind by previous customers that Nancy wasn't exactly fond of with their rude remarks. Then Realizing the well dressed and distinguished stud was observing her fine buttock from the marble bar and marvelous vibes rushing through her petite silver thong that, too, matches the outside of her costume perfectly. "OH, you look good too my darling," Replies Nancy, with a certain look in her eyes, gleam in her cat-like pupils. "I want to touch you all over, Stan," she adds, with a long drawn out purr across the room. Urging him to enter her warm vagina as her head turns ever so gracefully again towards his rising sex machine that is very much exhausting her brain cells with wild ambitions. "Care for another Stanley?" Sid said, wiping the counter off for a third time. Interrupting Stan's concentration. "Hey, did you say something Sid?" replies Stanley. Sid giggles to himself and says. "I asked if you needed another drink before I close-up shop," saying sharply. "I know you're preoccupied with my new employee though," he smiles, wiping the same spot on the counter he had just cleaned. All three were wearing their lustful eyes. When Sid jerks his thick neck, nearly sprains it, to another dear friend of there's coming in from the cold. "Shit Ralph close the door, burr!" said shouts, rubbing his broad forearms together. "You born in a barn!" Shouts Peter, shifting his eyes back to Nancy's fine buttock, like he did when he first walked in and noticed the hired help. "Damn, she looks great!" says Ralph, taking his place at the end of the bar, hands rubbing delicately his loins. "I could love her like my own wife," he adds, looking down the bar as if looking for some kind of reaction from his friends. "You still want a refill Stanley?" Sid said, tossing the damp cloth back over his broad shoulder. "Yes please," Stanley, said, tipping the tiny glass vastly to his soft lips. Then observes everything about Nancy through the bottom of his empty glass. Panting, burning for her with each tender gulp of the fresh glass of liquor Sid had just poured him. Suddenly she smiles that smile, sweetly. Winking slowly her curled up lashes that was now batting fast. Punishing the young man's heart and soul the longer he studies her mysterious eyes that are revolving in Stanley's head. Like a giant vortex, with two beady eyes, directly in the center of the attention. "What's her name Sid?" Ralph mutters, admiring his beastly manhood at a glance. "So, what is her name my friend!" shouts Ralph. "Her name is Nancy Ralph!" he said with a pause. "She's my new hired gal buddy," Sid adds sarcastically. "Hey! Snap out of this trance," Sid shouts softly, snapping his huge fingers in front of Stanley's eyes. Watching the minute's ticking away as this, the celebration is about to commence. "Ah...what!" Stan was quick to say. "Why are you all looking at me this way for?" Stanley's eyes continue to roam, examine Nancy's stimulating rump seeping out from her cute panty. "Oh my god, your the perfect picture and specimen-Why thank you Stanley darling," Nancy was quick to interrupt, spinning faster inside the invisible vortex. Both realizing Nancy's buttock was in dire need of being caressed by a set of strong male hands that reaches out and touches each one. Then quickly the vision vanishes. "Stanley! I hear your going to the Virgin Islands." A stern voice says from behind Stan, leaning on Peter's shoulder, using it as a resting post while awaiting Stan's answer. "Yes George I shove off tomorrow to enter the great sea that awaits me," he said, wiping the saliva from his dry lips that were chapped badly from the vision Stanley just had. "What happened to that young gal you were with?" Sighed Stan. "Did she dump you?" "NO," George shouted, with a bold frown on his face. "She simply had to go home," he replies, with more sarcasm on his breath. "Stanley?" "Yes George," he replies, feeling the old timers rude hands grasping tighter his frail young shoulders, revenging Stan for that comment he had made a few minutes ago about his gal. "Just watch yourself," George says softly. Glancing slowly back over his feeble shoulder to Nancy," whispering. "She's a evil child Stanley!" "No way!" Stan replied, looking directly into the large misty mirror that was covered in smoke. "There's no chance in hell Nancy is an evil child," he adds, studying her beauty from the looking glass, of such enormous passion in her eyes. "I am telling you the truth as a friend," George says, trying to steady the glass in his right hand. Shaking a bit more before hoisting his glass to his wrinkled pale face then retrieving his teeth from the bottom of the glass as the entire counter fills with laughter when Ralph got up to sit closer to this lovely woman everyone at the bar counter was talking about. "Please, excuse me," said Ralph, staggering recklessly to a front table to gain a better view of Nancy's fabulous utters and near nude ass. "Mum, you're a finely tuned woman, Nancy," Ralph says, adjacent the table where Nancy was serving a couple some drinks. Admiring everything about Nancy when this security guard at a local bank says. "Will you come home with me?" with a slur. "No, I don't wish to mister," Nancy replies with a bold snarl, feeling Ralph's smooth hands up under her skirt, and caressing between the thin nylon strap of her sexy and sinful thong. "For the forth time...NO!" she scolds. "And keep your filthy paws off my silky drawers...you FREAK!" Then slaps away Ralph's hands from going any further. "She's got spunk, doesn't she?" Sid said, from a safe distance. Nancy felt obligated to only one man. A handsome young man, Stanley, continuing to prey and stalk her succulent body along with Ralph's persistent annoying comments of how he would treat her like a queen, a princess, before he would making love to her. Nancy was becoming very obnoxious with the man insisting on going to bed with her. Annoying her to the point of making him cease these persistent attempts to gain her love out of disrespect, which she knows soon had to be stopped at once before this identity would rapidly surface before it's time to be revealed. Suddenly the room grew silent, calm, once Ralph's eyes met and wept out of control to something so powerful and rare. Witnessing this wrath of terror when his eyes capture her long pointy nails, sharpen ears and fangs that of a rare breed that of large beady-eyed cat that leaps onto his lap. "Now that's more like it," Ralph cried. Hands buried under Nancy's skirt that is suddenly filled with blood from the razor sharp blades. "Oh no! What are you doing?" shouts Ralph. "Come on people, help me!" he adds, almost sobering up. "No one can see nor hear you yea bloody bastard!" Half woman, half beast, shouts out to the elderly man. Placing a transparent like dome over George's head as not to give away her true identity. This once adorable creature intimated Ralph's eyes when she made love to him. After tearing off his skirt and trousers, sinking her long fangs into the sides of his neck and with a quick jerk tore open his flesh and begins to feast upon his battered throat while romping on his, manhood, until she can feel him climaxing deep inside her. "There. Are you satisfied now," blurting out, examining the large puddle of blood on the floor. "Now I must get rid of the evidence," she said twitching her lovely nose as her body is restored and Ralph, sentenced to a pile of salt that Nancy blew harshly from the soft cushion seat. After her body had been fully rejuvenated into a beautiful woman again, she bats an eye and the tiny tavern was restored as though nothing had ever happened. Conversations begun again and the ogling of her gorgeous body was also being denied by a spell she had planted in the minds of each man that had stalked her shortened dress that Sid had designed especially for her. "No Stanley, I did not wish this on you, so go ahead and stalk me all you want," said the lady, concentrating deeply. "What?" Stanley utters; lip turned up as not knowing what these sounds are ringing in his head meant. "Hey Sid, have you seen Ralph?" said Stanley, shaking his head as to rid the voices. "No. He was sitting up front the last time I saw that drunken fool. Probably went home to get laid by his obese spouse," Sid replies, as everyone sitting at the bar busted out with laughter. With the exception of this old timer, George, which seems to be aging vastly when he sought Nancy through the bottom of his wineglass. Where certain memories of a shy young girl, such as Nancy, made him nervous, enough to spill booze down the front of his shirt and urinate beyond control once her eyes felt the presence too. George begun to feast his baby blues onto Nancy's hourglass frame with even more persistent vibes soaring along his weary bones, as he shivers once more. Burying his hand beneath his antique overcoat to his staggering heartbeats when he saw that smile of Yesteryear in Nancy's glowing red eyes. "Just beware of that evil creature my good friend," George adds, lifting his hand free from his ticker that had cease it's vast pace to again admire and examine Nancy's rich long glistening jet-black hair. Fiery ass, and gorgeous blue eyes, which gleams like the moon to the roaring sea he once gazed upon when serving his country in the U.S. Navy as a navy seal. "Hell George, you look like the walking dead, are you OK?" Stan says, steadying George's hand on the counter with one of his. "Come on George, tell us another one of your war stories," spoke Sid. "Yeah old timer, want to hear another one too," spouts Peter. All three urging the old timer to share another horror story from his past that he possesses deep within his weary soul, while more visions of Nancy fell into place on that uncharted island. So many years ago, when George felt weak and the powers of Nancy's eye insisting that he stop with these war stories of he and she together. "Hey George, why the gloom look?" said Peter. "Come on guys I think we have heard enough of these tales to last us a life time, besides George doesn't look so good," Stan says, covering up for his deranged friend. "Right old timer?" Stan adds, nodding his head. "Yes, that's right youngster," he replies, fishing out his fake teeth from the bottom of the glass. Rescuing his teeth from the near empty glass and quickly placing them carefully back into his mouth. Then realizes the power invested in this soul he sees is much stronger than he and all of his buddies rolled into one. "No, I have to tell this story before I leave tonight," whispering, to those left that wanted to hear. "What! Don't change the story now!" shout's Sid and Peter, leaning over the shiny counter to try to hear what George was saying about a certain witch. George glances to the far table where Nancy was serving drinks when he could feel the powers and strength of her mighty eyes preying, probing his mind. "I got to go," George shouts, as he scoots back his chair and storms out the door. Leaving his half-empty glass behind and knowing he too could be a victim of her strength and powerful eyes, knowing what had really existed when the room was silent with frozen people. "Oh," Stanley utters, studying this peculiar look on George's face that was trying to tell him something that George could not just blurt out. Thinking back to the dreadful island as the story he had begun to tell had meaning, weighing heavily on George's mind once he reaches the lagoon he'd once visited. Hoping his old friend made it to his squeaky steps of his large two-story estate. Half block down from tavern. "Hey Peter, where you going?" asks Sid. "You know how George feels about you taking over his territory...his women!" "Hell with George!" Peter says, with an intoxicated slur. "OK, but if he comes back with his shotgun again, I don't want you to say a word," said Sid, chuckling. "You keep bar tending and leave George to me," he said, nervously. Peter remained with Becky at a booth just behind the twin doors of the entranceway. "Do you really love George, Becky?" "Well, he is a nice old feeler," she says. "But I am excited by his large pea-shooter also," Becky adds, lofting a wink towards Sid, as Peter felt a bit ignored by this fat chick of George's visioning herself and George in his bedroom with the blinds drawn down. "Are you okay Stan?" Muscle bound bartender says with utmost concern on his face. "Yeah Stanley. Looking mighty pinked," spouts Peter. "I am as fit as a fiddle," he replies, ignoring the fact that Nancy is about to expose her all back in the vortex he had climbed out of when his friends yells out his name. Stanley hears in his head a story that George had begun to share with his dear friends. This experience on that uncharted Island as a navy seal. Tide washing him to shore and staggering through the jungle of exotic trees and vegetation that does not exist anywhere else and never discovered by man. Searching for his evening meal along the blue shrubs, purple trees, and giant fish so large and green that refuses to be indulged by George. A young girl dressed in all black leaps out of no where, giggling with her hands placed along her pale white face, which sent shivers down the once young man's spine and speaks in native tongue that he could barely make out. Speaking the English language backwards as he later came to realize his soldiers on the ship were lost at sea, by not any accident. "I am starting to believe you George," Stan says. Then goes on hearing the rest of his tale before vanishing outside to the dropping temperature that is extremely cold. Fierce storm that had sunk the large vessel "Lady Luck" and thousand's of more of his brave men had died. Spell this pretty but witty girl had caused by a suttee wink of one precious eye, rescuing him from the quiet but somewhat altered lagoon that felt the presence of a total stranger disturbing the calm water, and scattering of autumn leaves that had fallen from the colorful exotic trees. Dragging George's youth and already weaken body under. Submitting his wiry soul to the strong ivy that had yearn to destroy him in order to keep the island safe from anymore intruders that might come in contact with George once he strays from the sacred islands. Until this, master of the dreaded islands rescues him from the spiral ivy, vegetation wrapping, covering, and his entire carcass at the bottom of the deep lagoon. "Wow!" said Stanley, dragging his weary eyes across the positive aspect, clearing off another table. Before he listens in his head more of his friends' story. After six long months of captivity with very little food and water, George was found lying for dead with beautiful yellow buzzards high overhead and swarming in circles. Waiting him to breath his last gasp of air by a group of tribal savages along the shore where they sent him back to sea in a man made vessel, made from the finest bamboo to aid him in his quest, escape to freedom. Wild Desire "Come on George. Where do you find these dreams?" said Stan, losing himself back into the spiral top, seeing George fading faster from sight. "Hey! Come back old timer," Stanley yells, hearing his own voice echoing inside the vortex. When suddenly the young lad witness two big, large cat-eyes staring directly before him. Stan saw a large gray vessel and men diving overboard in each of the cats' yellowish-green pupils. "Wake-up Stanley. What the hell is wrong with you?" yelled Sid, looking away from Stan's eyes, seeing Satan himself in his best friends' wide pupils. "Did George share with you all another adventure during the cold war? Said Peter, ushering yet another stiff drink that Sid and Stan already said they had to many of. "Sid, my usual," Peter orders, well distinguished man with a neatly trimmed beard. Something likes Sid's, but not as full. However all three members at the counter knew that Stanley was the best looking person in the joint. Even Nancy knew it when she raises her dark brows and moves them up and down, like some sort of mating call, or a simple tease. Sid begins to rotate slowly his eyes and head to the young vibrant waitress as a sign, a gesture, to yank the thin strings which were attached to these bright colorful balloons resting beyond the rafters of the towns only tavern. Balloons falling from the ceiling along with streamers, tumbling slowly to the floor, as the loud music from the speakers behind the bar begins to play and filter of familiar tunes of Country & Western. "It's party time!" Everyone shouts, assisting Sid. Grabbing an ankle that belongs to Stanley, and helps escort him to the front of the high rise platform where girls were preparing for a wet T-shirt contest and Nancy awaiting the first dance with Stan. Stanley shook his head as he realized that this party was for him as a going away party. Celebrating Stan's journey to the Virgin Islands in the morning that took him by complete surprise. Grabbing a partner as they celebrated with dancing and contests to see who can drink the most beer. Yelling and prancing along the peanut covered floor, wet T-shirt contest caught every man's eyes at the front, where the band usually performs every Friday and Saturday night. "Yeah!" yells Stanley, watching Nancy shake her boobs as more beer was being applied to her T-shirt that she had worn under her blouse for easy access. "You like what you see Stanley, hum?" spoke Nancy, with her eyes trained on his swelling and head slightly tilted to one side as to watch him blush upon sight of her narrow nipples seeping through the shirt. "Oh, yeah." Was the only word Stanley was able to say. "Do you want to fool around, Stan darling?" With an accent that drove the young writer nearly insane with her seductive accent. Stanley nods his head as he sat at the bar watching his friends making fools of themselves. Then raising the glass to his warm lips and observing the cutest of the five servers from the bottom of the glass. A woman urging him to dance with her as she lowers her eyes further down his wiry structure and begins to thrust slowly her pelvis, while chewing her lower lip and swaying her gorgeous hips as she lets down her long vibrant dark hair that she wore perfectly. Studying his tent beginning to take form the closer Nancy becomes to him. "Oh Stanley, let me make love to you," she whispers softly to him as though anxious to get-it on. "Where?" "I don't care where Stanley." Her hips were swaying exotically with lust on her mind, wearing her charm-ing bedroom eyes, which truly astounds Stanley. Provoking him to join her graceful moves on the dance floor as he slowly raises himself off the stool, leaving it spinning in circles, as he follows her anxious to please eyes. "I thought you wanted to go Nancy," Stanley calmly said. Feeling the vibrations of her body against him and her warm breath hovering his ear lobe, as she whispers soft sweet words that burns deep inside his aching chest. Begging him to take her home to engage in such a way, sexual cravings, that Stanley had seen all night long inside her eyes and body language. "I do. Let's go," Nancy says, tugging his stiff loins as they slid past the front door quickly before anyone realizes they were gone. Pressing her tightly against his stiff wand, slender soft hands atop and across his firm buttock. "You're a fine kisser, Stanley." "Why thank you." As they sway to the beat of the loud narcotic music, just inside the door, that Peter could barely stand when the mood struck the entire gang and the country music was put to rest. "Where did you want to go?" "That little pink motel sure looks inviting," Nancy said, luring him onto the snow covered lawn of the "Shady Motel" with a firm grip of Stan's thickness. "Sounds good to me," he answers. Nancy begins to giggle. Moan softly in Stanley's ear, as her warm head lay against his shoulder with sweet words of passion that drove him nearly insane with envy. When she explains in explicit detail what she plans to do to this young stud with: wiry built, short brown hair, eyes of almond, and skin that was course and pale, Similar to hers. "Come on Stanley." She giggles. "I'm a coming!" He shouts. "Mum, I certainly would hope so." Nancy replies, with a slow wink of one eye. Watching the well distinguish gentleman gliding over the sheet of ice to greet her warm smile, rosy cheeks, and stimulating soul that was not to be denied of such sexual pleasure. "I will pay the old hag, Stan," she insists. "OK." Skating across the frozen ice, giggling sweetly, as she stood before the pink motel with rooms grouped together. Feeling the vibrations of the walls breathing, taunting her mad soul and giggles louder with a tender warm hand inside her dry T-shirt. "Oh Stanley darling, go for it," she spoke loudly, willing to undress before they reach the door. Nancy's warm words rushes wildly from her tender lavishing lips that Stanley could not wait to press, against. Shoving Nancy against the red door, and running their fingers through each other's hair as both lips are secured, as one. And Forcing her into the room, leaving the door wide open as they plunge to the soft green comforter and lay sideways as a couple. "Oh, Stanley...a beast!" "No, you're the beast." "I know," Nancy says, lapping together her ankles around his waists, once Stanley was in perfect form, between her legs. "Oh Stan. I think your suppose to get undress before you start your pumping methods." Stanley saw in her lovely greenish-yellow eyes, hormones the size of large rocks, a woman in her eyes tied at the stake, smoldering in not just any small village, but rather one with cobblestone streets and wood houses jammed together. "SHIT!" Shout Stan, making his way to the foot of the bed where he fell, plunging to the soiled carpet. After seeing these flames of red shooting higher up the legs of a deranged woman and a mere infant tugging harshly, soot on her face, to the dress the woman had worn over her beautiful body. Visions vanishing just as quickly as they had arrived before Stan's humble and weary eyes. "What's wrong Stanley. Though if seen a ghost!" Nancy said, twisting several strands of her long beautiful hair around two fingers and let's out a sharp giggle. "I am not sure of what I saw, Nancy." Confused look on his pale face. Stanley tries desperately to catch his wind, leaning over, as these vibes she sends him were creating a certain awareness of what she had longed for all night long. Panting heavily to what he seen that caused him to run rapidly across the motel lawn with one hand still attached to his wobbly knee, and trousers falling further down, while he stood in the middle of the lawn. Looking back to the half open door of the room, which he fled from. "Oh, no," Stanley says, bowing his head after studying briefly his 5th grade teacher, Miss William's, covered in blood and mauled by an unknown critter that left her body slumped over behind the front desk of her motel. "I am sorry. Sorry she had to die like this," Nancy said, grieving as she lures him back across the yard. "No! Don't go back Stan. Someone will discover her and notify the authorities. Come, we will find a better place to mate." "It was awful Nancy. Her silver hair was, too, smeared in blood." Stan begins to feel a force pulling him upwards, into a large hole in the sky, vortex the color of a rainbow after a rainstorm had passed by. Fangs growing from each side of her mouth. Once petite hands were now the paws of a large cat and Nancy's ears were sharp and pinned back. He sees within the huge cone. "Where am I? What am I doing inside this thing?" he cries, as each sound he makes brings an echo. Blistering of laughter filled the moonlight air, lonely streets, as she guides Stanley further inside this dark spinning vortex where Nancy made love to him until her body was completely reformed into that of a lovely young woman again. "Did you pay that ugly woman?" Nancy said, with disbelief soaring across Stanley's face. "You paid Miss William's?" cried Stan, wondering how he knew she had pain the old goat. Than realizing he must had seen the entire scene when inside the spiral vortex. "No! Couldn't stay and wait for her ears to curl up!" Both laughed. As Nancy places a curse on him to forget what he had just seen and experienced accidentally. Nancy studied his flamboyant frame repeatedly with her roaming eyes. Disrobing her body proudly, as stunning gestures from the young man's thoughts and visions were superior to an old fling from high school inside the room. Then Nancy slowly shuts the door in her sexy blue bikini outfit, which had been shielded by her silver costume she wore back at the tavern that was deviating. "Come on baby, give Nancy what she yearns to feel between her long sheik legs." She says, using her French accent to numb his brain long enough for Nancy to literally rape him atop the sheets they had drawn back before Stanley had ran out. Wearing no shoes or socks, no shirt to speak of, and pants half down his firm rump that Nancy clings to after she had lured him onto her naked flesh with her sassy powerful eyes that spoke softly to Stan. "Oh, Nancy. You are music to my heart. Answer to my many dreams I some- how sought your lovely face every time I lay asleep in my bed each and every night." Teasing Stan with her tender persuasive sways of elegance, and hips that taunts his weary soul with extreme pleasures, and fertilization rushing across his face while Stan's curious eyes scans Nancy's nudity over that made him feel alive and very much obedient to her energetic needs. Than slowly his eyes begins to discharge what he had already spilt inside this well of life that was in need for more fulfillment when she purr's for more of what Stanley has to offer her. "Nancy, shed some light before we do it again," he said. Opening up a little more of these white blinds, Did Nancy, when Stan begins to feel the white lines on his naked body and across his face from the colorful moonbeam soaring from the window. "Mum...Oh!" Moans Stanley, captivated by Nancy's sharp claws and cooing purrs. Truly a romantic setting as he begins to feel the lingering effects of her succulent lips hovering around his chapped lips that appears to be healing after a few more moments of this absorbing of two lips, joining as one. "Yes! So delightful, so delicious, so anxious to please," Nancy saying with an accent all her own. Unknown to any language Stan had ever heard, since studying ancient history in school during the seventeenth century, witchcraft. "I do indeed enjoy seeing your pain and pleasure streaking across your wan face when I lower myself down onto you to feel such heavy magnitude my body must seek." Nancy's warm wet tongue begins to patrol upwards his belly, soothing the vibes from his beating heart as her moist lips press tighter his dark pubic hair. "Stanley darling, you're just the specimen I have been waiting years to discover." "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah," tossing him harshly to the soft mattress again as they fell intimately awkward. Gazing harshly into his paralyzed face that began to turn her on in a way that begins to, too, excite Stanley in such similar fashion. "I want it all, darling!" Nancy shouts, whipping his face with her tight beads. "Yes! Oh yeah!" she shouts, dipping much faster her well to his vine. Slithering like a giant reptile. Hissing boldly. As she felt his hands onto her breasts, feet bridging up, eyes dialing 666 rather than 911, she saw in his vastly beating heart with each motion of her naked soul crashing against his frail young frame. Grazing like sheep as Stan watches from high above their heads every movement of her young blissful...heaves! "Oh yes Stanley darling. I do feel your seeds exciting me where your hungry eyes are right now," saying, as she rears back her head and shuts both eyes to enjoy the flowing of raw material passing through her inner system. "Oh yes princess. I can see us in this funnel cloud where my eyes are witnessing your past, as a refugee in a far away place, of enormous beauty," Stanley admits seeing. Nevertheless, quickly forgetting the wormhole, dimension of civilization between worlds. Suddenly Nancy plants a heavy kiss along Stanley's forehead that made him forget he had ever saw that portion of Nancy's life as a servant to the king and queen. (Next day) Stan begins to wonder how he had gotten back here, to his dingy apartment in the center of New York City. In addition, what had became of him last night. "Why can't I remember anything about last night except having been romanced by some lady I never seen before," Stan says secretly. Then he wanders aimlessly the living-room floor with his soft rod banging harshly to his thighs, as he continues to wonder if indeed was a bad dream or a mere fantasy. He begins to vision only portions of last night. Stanley stood over the window seal as the passing cars drove by his upstairs apartment with banging pipes beyond the walls, at times, keeping him up at night. Hearing this steam heat about to roar through the rusty pipes, sending warm heat throughout his cold nude body that was still standing over the window. Observing the children dressed for the winter months ahead which begins to depress him again. "I have to get out of this city." Saying while he studies these kids slinging wet snowballs at each other and passing of vehicles, driving slowly over the blanket of snow that begins to depress this young writer even more. Awaiting his ride to the cruise ship that Stanley can almost smell the distinct odors of the salt and fish he sees swimming in his mind. "It is about time you showed up, Peter," saying softly to himself. "SHIT! I best be putting some clothes on." Turning loose the doorknob and races to the bedroom to add warmth to his nude flesh that Stanley nearly exposed to the city. Shoving a few more items into both empty suitcases, he had left by the bed. Grasping both leather luggage and dashes off into the cold climate. "Well, it's about time!" Stanley says, scolding his best friend Peter when he arrives a few minutes late, leaving behind a few old memories and footsteps racing down the steep flight of stairs and a huge slam of a door. "Step on it!" Stanley orders, as if he had been in contact with the devil himself. "Why the rush! Got half an hour yet." Peter shouts back, releasing his own hostility. "Only takes five minutes to reach the harbor, Stanley." "Forgive me Peter. I should be glad that you're taking me instead of a cabby," said Stan, glancing to the low-income housing that made him that much more depressed. Off to the right of him. Stanley begins to feel the warmth of the tropical heat beating down on his weary soul already. "Damn!" Squeezing his head tighter as a vision of beauty fell into his mind. "You okay Stan?" "Yeah, be all right once I am aboard the ship." As this mirage stood out along the horizon behind the huge vessel that Stanley had just witnessed, admiring her blessed body and soul when he mutters unconsciously her name, "Martha" to himself. "What?" said Peter, realizing his friend was under more stress than he had thought. "Hurry Stan, get on the vessel before you crack!" "OK," says Stanley, with brief chuckle. Both exit the doors of the red pick-up, caressing each other when tears begin to flow, nearly freezing their smiles. "Take care my friend and I will see you in a couple of months," said Peter, having to shout over the loud siren which was signaling and saying, "last chance to aboard and set sail to the virgin islands." "Hey! Bring me back a virgin...okay?" Stanley glares back to his old friend and waves as he back pedals up the shiny metal ramp. Gesturing with a brisk nod as though were saying, "Yes I will." (Chapter two) "Welcome aboard the Princess Lee, young man." Man dressed in all white said, holding his clipboard, checking off each name of every fresh passenger that came aboard the large vessel. To go where no man has gone before...Paradise! Locating his cabin on the third tier sought from his ticket stub, climbing the set of stairs until he reaches room 666 he repeats to himself, saying to himself over and over that he wasn't at all scared or superstitious about any old thing. Gazing from the tiny circular glass window from alongside the brass designer bed. Feasting his delicate eyes on the warm exotic trees that no one else could see from this view, except Stanley. "Hello stranger," voice from the doorway saying so pleasantly and delightfully. Stanley turns his wiry body slowly around, focusing on such vision, thing of beauty. "How did you get in here? Door was locked," Stanley says, politely. Gulping down more of his warm saliva. Heart rushing to his throat while his eyes gazes along the glittering loose gown that hid the slim legs of this tall shapely blond. Searching for answers Stan can- not find in her lusty gestures that Stan figures out very quickly she was not to be denied of such sinful acts stowed away in her energetic soul that Stan sees, trembling the closer she became to him. "Care for a quickie?" She asks, bringing her lovely hands around to the front of her satin attire. "Ah...Ah...?" Wetting Stan's appetite with such hospitality and these fine curves that only comes around once in a lifetime for the average man to ponder, her, so many features. Her body slowly shifts towards him. Pouring two wineglasses as she plants her firm buttock to the soft satin spread that of a giant cat, prancing through an enchanted jungle. When Stan hands to her out stretched fingers the near full glass of red wine he had finished pouring when she welcomed herself to the queen size canopy with oak all around her. "Shit Stanley, my favorite color," she announces, working the lads hand inside one of the narrow slits of her dress, which had exposed more than it should, that of her creamy thigh Stan unconsciously touches. "Why are you here?" Stan says. "I was sent to please you," saying boldly. "Don't yea want me here?" Toasting to a well deserved vacation that both was in need of as each displays their affections for one another in their own charming way. "I want a baby, Stanley darling." "Why me?" "'Cause your so gifted and handsome that my heart read when we first aboard this ship." She adds. Stanley wonders how this gorgeous blond knew his name. "Cheers!" They both say. Clanging the two crystals together as Stanley arches his back and throws his free arm around her skinny neck to eventually scorn both breasts that were seeping from the woman's V-cut chiffon gown that weakens the knees of Stanley, so. Wild Desire Sharing their experiences as a writer. Pouring the remaining bottle of bubbly, as they praise each other's writing styles and habits that made the other somewhat jealous. "Wow! Your taste in adventure goes a long ways, Stanley," says with a touch of jealousy. Setting both empty glasses to the table in order to try and seduce one another while the ship rocks harshly back and forth, tossing her onto Stanley's swelling, she had been rubbing, as they topple to the soft carpet floor. Eyes roaming over the two slits of her creamy thighs, feeling the emotions spreading, soaring, with each intimate kiss they gave each other out of spite and love. "Oh Stanley, I never figured you for a good kisser." "Then you can't possibly know me, Shelly." Shelly begins to tease Stan all over again as his breath became heavy, eyes a blur, and throat dry as a bone. Just when Stan seizes one of her 34 D'S that Stan had managed to capture and bring to the surface, this catch of the day. Feeling its soft texture in one huge gulp. "Oh, you naughty boy," Shelly says, once her fingers had slide down his fronted. "You must be a tit man!" fearing what he might be feeling, seeing, in her eyes that were weakening and drawing nearer to Stanley's mouth, again. "Oh Stanley...what am I to do with you?" She adds, lying flat on her gorgeous back, across the brass bed, and opening up a gap to taunt Stan's hideous mind some more. Shelly sent these same cravings through Stanley's heart that lead him to total ecstasy, back home in that quaint motel room, where an unknown once raped him. Sensing these same vibes when Shelly took aim at his throbbing manhood being pulled out by Stan's warm fingers to share with Shelly it's charm and size, which made Shelly's heart, beat much faster. "Oh, Stanley darling," Shelly says, placing firmly her palm flat between her chest. "Oh, wow!" Amazed of how well Stanley's vital organ had been structured. Cabin grew silent as Stanley works his eyes casually over Shelly's firm bosoms. With her thighs spreading evenly apart, slowly, allowing these tiny glistening sparkles of her long gown to fall between her passionate legs. While she twirls, and wraps her ravishing hair around two of her slender fingers. Waiting his answer of wanting to make love. "How about another type of quickie?" Stanley said convincingly, as though such beauty in her lovely eyes excited him, seducing him even more with more companionship. "Anything you want, darling," Shelly said, wetting carefully her red cherry lipstick, Stan smelt, with a suttee sweep of his own uncanny lips attacking such poised lipstick. Suddenly Shelly begins to encourage Stanley to take down her tight fitting dress. Once she exposes her cat-like eyes for Stan to admire such soothing stares that were convincing him that she could indeed satisfy him sexually. "You're a very mysterious feline," Stan says. "But you like me this way...hum?" Replies, batting her lashes like some old floozy. "Yes I do. I do enjoy your company," saying, with eyes galloping up and down such nudity. "So, are you going to call me your mysterious mistress, darling?" Stanley took in a deep breath. "Yes, yes I will," he said, watching the reactions of his mighty sword as Shelly does the same, but with more significant reasons. Shameful thoughts and visions guide his horny eyes to her hoisted gown. Abolishing all thoughts of any other he had felt so strongly about. Vanishing into the haze. "How about me Stan!" Cries a petite voice inside Shelly, sounds of a spoiled rotten rich girl. "Huh!" Stanley gestures, despite the anguish and suffering Shelly, too, does most desire. "Who was that?" he adds, with haste. "Oh? What sound, Stanley darling?" she says, insisting that he must concentrate on her. Stanley's hand continues on recklessly up her gown. Exposing the Garden of Eden, matching her long wavy hair. Parting like the Red Sea. Brushing the glistening fibers back from her smooth shoulders that expose the harden brown nipples Stan was most interested in discovering when Shelly had disrobed herself before him and to sit upon his bed, amongst other things, clogging Stan's mind. "But whose voice was it?" Stanley cries. "Forget her! I mean it! Hell, just let me make love to you!" Saying with much hostility. Shelly tosses the gown to the shag carpet. Once Stan was completely naked and lying against her nude flesh where he reaches around her and fondles both of Shelly's breasts as Stanley kisses so gingerly her; soft smooth shoulder, spine, and warm neck that made Shelly reach back and clutch his raw sword. "Mum, your such a romantic, darling," saying as she felt the rhythm of his touches and kisses. Stanley's mouth was dry, hands perspiring, while his heart pounds vigorously to the child-like voice he yearns to hear again that spoke almost like French. "Make it come back Shelly," he said, soothing Shelly more, when he kissed her charming rump. Than rolls her over onto her bare back to see this brief vision in her lovely eyes again. "Come on Shelly." Begging. "No!" she shouts. "Okay, I won't pressure you anymore about that petite voice I heard coming from your sweet lips, saying, when he heard it again once he was atop Shelly, briefly saying weak. "Oh, your feverish torso is so kind to me." Making wild passionate love to her warm sinful body was the only thing floating inside his mind, allowing his kind affectionate hand to slither between this transparent garment, another had worn, and soothe the pain and hurt she felt easing, once his hands had clinched both breasts. "Oh baby. Must name you Congo!" she utters, with little resistance. "Oh yeah, but why?" he asks, when a childish chuckle raises his dark brows. Searching for that petite voice in Shelly's concerned eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that!" Ordering Stanley to stop. "Are you some kind of pervert that enjoys getting-it-on with a woman's eye and not her womb!" Shelly adds. Moonbeam feasted along the two heated torso's battling for position when suddenly ten sharp nails dug huge ruts in Stan's bare back that brought more moans to surface, and rich blood streaking down the spine of Stanley. "Okay, Okay! I will stop searching for her in your eyes," Stan says, looking away from Shelly's eyes, just when the shy child appears in the blonde's pupils. Making Shelly giggle something awful when the child must have told a dirty joke. "Hey sweetheart, what gives?" Says the leader of this unit of mob members, barging into the small cabin. "Why don't you go find your own woman!" shouts Stanley, wearing a deep frown, using his toes for leverage as he continues to enjoy the soft sounds seeping through Shelly's lips, belonging to her other hideous half.