3 comments/ 46558 views/ 3 favorites Add By: little sebastian After a week of being horny every single day and having no opportunity to act on it, I found myself alone on a Friday night; no plans, no obligations, but some spare money and a raging appetite for cock. So I hatched a plan to make good use of my money and time. I checked into a motel near an adult bookstore, which I knew was frequented by gay men looking for action on the fly. I got everything situated in the room, then headed out to the bookstore. Slowly but surely, I hit every video booth in the place, leaving the date my room number and a message saying "I want to suck and fuck your cock tonight" I couldn't waste time with descriptions of myself or expectations of the men I wanted, so I just made it short and sweet. Then I headed back to the room and got ready for what I hoped would be at least one or two guys. I got undressed except for a cock ring, I made sure I was cleaned out and greased up for a good ride, and I laid back on the bed and waited for my first guest to arrive. After about 10 minutes, there was a knock on the door. Luckily, there is a window right next to the door so I can look out to see who it is. I looked, and saw a good looking young guy, about 30, with brown hair and a good build. Quickly, I opened the door and stood back to let him in. I was still butt naked, so he knew what to expect. He wasted no time in coming in, and as soon as I'd shut the door he was already getting undressed. We didn't speak, we just got right down to business. I dropped down to my knees in front of him and pulled out his hardening cock while he finished getting his clothes off. I started to suck it in my mouth, licking all around the head and the sensitive underside while it lengthened in my mouth. Once it was to its full hardness, I sucked on it with abandon, pulling it all the way down my throat, licking the underside with the tip of my tongue, and slightly grazing it every now and then with my teeth. He seemed to like that a lot, and he was getting increasingly into it, grabbing my head with both hands and shoving his whole length down my slutty throat. Just as we were really getting started, another knock was at the door. I looked at him as if to ask if it was ok with him. He nodded, and I got up to answer the door while he went to lay on the bed. Once again, I looked out the window and saw an older man, maybe 50, with silvery hair but in good physical shape. I had no problem with that, so I let him in. Once again, no words were exchanged as he came into the room. He saw the naked man on the bed, and saw that I was completely nude, so he proceeded to join us. I went back to the younger man and went back to work on his rigid cock. I was on my hands and knees bent over sucking cock as I felt hands on my ass cheeks, spreading them and feeling them up. I didn't stop sucking cock, and soon felt my balls and cock being played with. "You want that ass fucked?" the older man asked. I didn't respond verbally, but reached back to grab his hard cock and guided it to my hole. Now I was sucking on the younger guy's balls, one at a time, then both together. I felt the older man's cock head at the opening of my ass, slowly but surely putting more force behind it until the head was fully inside me. Seeing that I wasn't telling him to stop, he shoved more inside slowly until all of his manhood was swallowed up by my hot asshole. The younger man, obviously turned on by this, turned over and presented his ass to me. I greedily licked his opening, swirling my tongue around the sensitive pucker and shoving it in as far as it would go. I began fucking him with my tongue just like the man fucking my ass in long slow strokes. Just then, I heard a noise to my left and looked up to see another man standing there watching the action. He was maybe in his 40's, and he was standing there with his cock hanging out of his pants, stroking it while he watched us. I guess he must have let himself in, but as he wasn't doing anything more than watching us, I decided he wasn't doing any harm. So I went back to rimming the asshole in front of me, all the while getting an expert fucking from behind. No matter how good a dildo feels in my ass, there's nothing to replace a big hot cock pistoning in and out of me. My body was on fire, every nerve tingling with torturous excitement. I felt a splattering of liquid on my back and looked up to see the newest guest shooting his load all over me, a look of pure pleasure on his face. Not long after that, my assfucker began to buck and moan, then shot his load far up into my bowels, pumping load after load as he shoved his cock as far in as it would go. The spectator left as quietly as he had come in, and the older man reluctantly pulled out of my ass and went to the bathroom to clean up. That left only me and the younger man, whose ass I was still reaming. He seemed to be enjoying it so much that he didn't want me to stop, so I didn't. The older man walked out of the bathroom, got dressed, and left without so much as a thanks. Oh well... Just as he opened the door, another man was about to knock. The older man just motioned him in and closed the door behind him. He was also young, possibly 20, and about average looking. When he started to get undressed, I went back to reaming, trusting that he would know what to do. Soon I had my answer as I felt hands grasping at my ass cheeks again. He wasted little time in formality, going straight for the target, shoving his cock in to the hilt in a matter of seconds. He began fucking wildly, quickly shoving it all in until his balls smacked mine, then pulling out so that only the head of his cock was in, then back in again hard. He must have been fairly inexperienced at anal sex, because it wasn't long before he was yelling out and filling my ass with his hot young sperm. Then just as quickly as he's shot his load, he was dressed and out the door. He didn't even bother to shut the door on his way out! I noticed this, and just as I was about to get up and shut it, another man walked in. "Don't stop on my account" he said, laughing. He shut the door behind him as he came in the room. This guy was a real knockout! 30 maybe, with dark hair and moustache, big and brawny and macho as hell. Even the younger guy whose ass I'd been licking all this time sat up and took notice. "I want to watch you suck him off while I fuck you" the younger guys says. Why not? As he gets up into position, macho man pulls his clothes off to reveal a massive, hairy body with a hefty cock and balls to match. That baby was going to be a real pleasure to suck on. We all got into position, me on my hands and knees, the younger man behind me, and macho laying on the bed with his beautiful cock facing me. We wasted no time, getting down to the business of fucking and sucking. His cock tasted as good as it looked, with just a hint of sweat, but otherwise a fresh, clean smell. The younger guy's cock felt like heaven going into my ass, this being the third fucking I'd had that night. Hell, we hadn't even been there over an hour yet! This looked to be a very promising night, indeed. We settled into an easy, slow rythm, taking our time to enjoy the sensations flooding our bodies and especially our cocks. I sucked for all I was worth, pushing back onto the cock in my ass on the upstroke and plunging cock back into my mouth on the downstroke. Then I alternated sucking his big hairy balls into my mouth, rolling each around with my tongue and sucking them in, popping them out to be replaced by the other. I worked my was down to his crack and reamed him as he pulled his legs back to give me access. His ass was also refreshingly clean, with just a hint of his manly smell and taste. The man fucking me now started to get a little forceful, smacking my ass with his right hand and grabbing my cock roughly with his left. I clenched down with my ass muscles to make my ass even tighter, increasing the sensations on his cock. That must have driven him over the edge, because he stopped grabbing and smacking and just began to fuck me faster and faster, harder and harder until his balls were smacking me so hard it hurt. He fucked me hard and fast for about 5 minutes, then he yelled out loudly "I'm cumming, man. Yeah, yeah, take that cock! Fucking yes, dude! Take that big dick up your ass! Oh yeah, here it comes! You want it?" In answer, I just pushed my ass back onto his cock even more as he let loose his semen. Spent, he rolled over onto the bed and just watched me suck the other man's cock. Before long, he got up and went to the bathroom. Macho pulled me off his cock, looked into my eyes and said, "Now, are you ready for my cock?" I answered him by pushing him back onto his back again, then climbing up onto his torso, guiding his slick cock up my used asshole until I was sitting on top of him with his manhood all the way up my ass. I slowly rose up until just the head was in, then pushed back down until I felt his hard pelvic bones pushing into the tender flesh of my ass. Back and forth it went like that for a few minutes, then he took charge, flipping me over onto my back and driving his cock into me with the force of a freight train! "You are gonna know what it's like to be fucked by a real man tonight" he breathed between powerful thrusts. And I was, indeed, going to be fucked by a real man. He took me to new heights, causing me for the first time to spontaneously ejaculate without touching myself at all, just be fucking me, hitting my prostate over and over again with the head of his big cock. The younger guy rejoined us, laying just under the macho man's cock and licking his balls and ass as he fucked me. The combination of hot tongue and hot ass must have been too much for him, and soon he was cumming hard into my aching ass, grabbing me roughly around the waist and pushing everything into me as far as he could. Finally, he lay exhausted beside me, panting and sweating from his exertions. "That was the best, dude. I mean it. The best I've ever had" macho said to me. The other guy agreed as we all three lay next to eachother on the bed. "Thanks" I said, "It was the best I ever even dreamed of." Add Crisco for Instant Fun Bad day. ‘Bad day’ didn’t even begin to encompass the events of Jim’s Friday afternoon. As well-paid upper-level manager of a huge accounting firm, he had to depend on a lot of different people to get a job done; the office was a finely-tuned machine. But when someone didn’t do their job, everything broke down. Luckily, Jim’s managerial style kept this from happening very often. He was a tough boss, no doubts about it, but he was also kind, gentlemanly, and everybody’s good pal. But this new guy was driving him up the wall. He would be fired on Monday, but until then Jim just has to bear the embarrassment of missing another deadline and losing a big account. It was after 8 PM when he left. Up until about 4 PM, he had been looking forward to a quiet dinner at home with is beautiful wife Karen, but after that all he could think about was strangling Wayne Carlson until his eyes popped out of his head like champagne corks. But we won’t get into that. The last one to leave, he locked up the main office door and stalked to the elevator, punching the button for the garage level so hard it made his thumb hurt. He fumed, muttering all the way down the 47 floors, and emerged in the dark garage. His executive parking space was waiting for him, as was his new toy: a brand new Audi RS 6. He opened the door and put his briefcase on the passenger side, then stood up outside the car to take off his jacket. He was getting a little hot around the collar, in more ways than one. He loosened his tie and jumped in the car, giving it some gas as he started it to make it roar to life in a satisfying fashion. He sped out of the garage as fast as he dared, taking the turns at a breakneck pace, tires squealing. The man at the gate saw him coming and simply opened the gate before he got there; no one else in the garage had a car like that, or drove like that. Jim gave him a quick salute as he sped past, cutting off another car as he darted out into the busy city streets. He was feeling better already. Spying an open corridor in the maze of evening traffic, he downshifted to 3rd and stamped on the gas, hearing the tires screech for purchase and feeling his back sink into the seat as if he taking off on a jet. Within minutes he was on the highway and really opened it up. With 450 ponies at his disposal, he tore like heck down the left lane at over 100 mph, feeling better and better as the engine wound higher and higher. He cut across three lanes of traffic to make his exit, and didn’t stop speeding until he was in his driveway in picture-perfect suburbia. The front door was open a crack, allowing Jim to push it open violently with his foot, the knob crashing into a coat rack. His wife Karen was standing near the sink in the kitchen, and just shook her head. “Hi honey!” she called out, hearing his things drop on the floor by the door. “How was your day?” Jim simply muttered expletives, barely keeping himself under control. Usually, his wife’s quiet obliviousness to his daily trials was refreshing; it made him realize there was life outside of work. But today it wasn’t working. He fumed silently, slumping down at the table. She turned to him, dinner already made, and set in front of him a pint glass of beer and a plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Jim muttered a genuine ‘thank you’ and shoveled down his food in minutes. He got up with is beer and left the table. He walked through the living room and to the front door, where he picked up his briefcase and carried it back into the family room. He switched on ESPN to watch the highlights and opened the case. Jim took long pulls from the beer as he looked over the day’s losses, working the numbers over in his head. He nearly dropped his beer. He had estimated far too low. Carlson’s slow action came with an opportunity cost of tens of millions of dollars. The company could have been on easy street. Steam virtually shot from Jim’s ears. He chugged the last of his beer and gently set the glass down on the coffee table, his hands shaking with rage. He ran them through his hair and looked towards the kitchen. Karen was there, looking beautiful as usual, knowing well enough to leave him alone for a while to let him cool off. She wore a simply white smock, the outline of a white lace bra underneath. Her pants were a pair of tight khakis, the thin material showing her panty line well. Her feet were clad only in little white flip-flops, and an apron covered her front. Suddenly, looking at her ass, he was overcome with lust. He had to take her, right there and then. He stood up from the couch and walked slowly into the kitchen, taking in the surroundings in a sort of stupor. His rage had given him a huge adrenaline rush. She was making cookies; rolling out the dough and cutting shapes, probably for her kindergarten class. A tin of Crisco shortening sat on the counter near her right hand. She didn’t turn around as he approached; probably thinking he had come for another beer. Karen jumped a laughed a bit as he sidled up behind her and put a hand on her ass, squeezing firmly. “Oo!” she cooed. “My my, Jim, has the office given you a hard-on for once?” Her question was answered as Jim pressed his big cock against her ass through his pants. He was so hard that it almost hurt. Karen started to try to turn around, but Jim restrained her gently, letting her know what he wanted. She complied. She felt his fingers fumble quickly with her button and fly, and suddenly her pants were undone. She grabbed hold of the counter and thrust her ass out as Jim jerked her pants down, just low enough to expose her panty-clad bubble-butt. The term ‘panty-clad’ only held for another split second before those two were jerked down off her ass. No other clothing had been touched; her shirt was in place, and she still wore the apron, somehow adding to her sexy allure. Jim unzipped his pants and fished out his erection with some difficulty, pulling out his balls also. Karen moaned a little as she felt his hot rod against her buttocks, anticipating that shaft in her pussy at any second, stabbing deep into her, hitting her G-spot hard just the way she liked it. ‘But’ Jim had other plans. Her eyes darted to the right as she spied his hand quickly pop over and dig out a large dollop of Crisco with four fingers. She was puzzled, but only for a second. She felt his fingers between her big, round cheeks, spreading the thick, greasy shortening all over her tight, virgin pucker! Her eyes popped open. “Whooooaahoho there mister, don’t even think about it!” she said, straightening up a little. But while straightening up would have kept him out of her pussy, her hiney was another matter all together; he was still right in line! She tried to turn around, but he held her against the counter with one strong arm. With his free hand he guided his throbbing, swollen cock between his wife’s buttocks, pressing the tip against her rosebud as she stood bolt upright against the counter. Karen didn’t even have time to protest a second time. “Unnnnggghhh!!!” Karen groaned, her toes curling. The greasy shortening was like a shapeless pry bar; her anus stretched open like a hungry mouth! Karen gasped over and over, disbelieving, as her husbands long shaft slid deep into the uncharted territory of her tush. “JEsus you’re tight!” Jim groaned, his breathing ragged as he held onto his wife’s hips. “Aagh! Uh!...I’m a fucking virgin, Jim! Please! OH!! Please take it easy!” Karen cried. Jim shook with excitement, barely hearing his wife’s groans and cries. He held her wide, curvy ass flush against the counter as she stood up straight, her head tilted back and her teeth gritted. He looked down at their coupling, relishing the visual with his wife’s cries in the background. Karen had the best ass ever. Her buttocks were so round and tight that even when she bent over and touched her toes you still couldn’t see her pucker. And now, even with his cock up in her rump like a hotdog in a bun, he couldn’t actually see where his cock disappeared into her; only where his greasy, glistening cock was squeezed up between her tightly-clenching buttocks. “Ohhhh yes! God…” Jim breathed. Karen’s sphincter was so tight that even with the greasy lube he was unable to really thrust. Rather, he had to force his cock back and forth; the blood wrung from his cock on the way out, her bowels opening up on the way in. His cock was long, but not especially thick, and he forced every inch into his wife’s bottom. She cried out and pounded the counter with her fist, biting her lip. “Unnngghh!...” she groaned as he pushed deep into her. “Ohhhh yeah, how’s that feel, sweetie?” Jim said into her ear, kissing her neck as he slowly plumbed her depths. “Aaah! Nng! It…ow! Careful!” Karen yelped when he pushed too fast. Jim slowed. He wanted to enjoy every second of this. “Where is my cock?” “Ohhh Jesus!” Karen gasped. “Where?” Jim said, pushing deep. “Ohhh!! It’s….it’s in my ass!” she cried. “God is it in my ass…” “How deep?” Jim asked, pushing in slowly. “Uh! So deep!” Karen moaned back. “Tell me just what I’m doing…” Jim said. He slowly slid in and out, in and out of his wife’s arse, all the way to the balls each time, forcing her to take his full 9 inches. “Ok…oo! God…your cock’s sliding out…” “Of where?” “Ah! Ugh! Of my ass! Your cock’s sliding out of my ass…and now! Uh shit! It’s…mm!...sliding back in! (God that’s deep!)” Karen continued. “Keep going…” Jim said, his breathe quickening. “Ok…oo! Oo!! OO!! Oh God, you are SO fucking me in my ass! Ung! Your cock…it’s sliding out! Ohgod! Uh! Now in again! Oo…out…God, it’s sliding easier now! OoooJesus you’re going faster! Oh God! Your cock is going up and down in my butt…God, SO deep! You’re hurting me but I don’t even care! Oh!Oh!Oh!OH!! In!Out!In!Out!In!Out! Unnnggg!...IN!!...Oh! Oh my God you’re coming! I can feel it! I can feel you coming in my ass! Ohhhhh yeeessss, come for me baby! Shoot all that come up my tight ass!” Jim’s mouth hung open and his legs were as tight as guitar strings as he went on tiptoes. He moaned over and over again as his emptied his balls into Karen’s butt, pumping a huge load into her as she moaned and cried out. Karen held onto the counter with white knuckles, her eyes tight shut as her husband clung to her hips through his orgasm. After what seemed like minutes, his cock finally stopped pumping come into her ass, and her over-sensitive muscles pushed out his softened shaft. She let out a held breath as he exited and leaned her elbows on the counter as Jim flopped down on a chair behind her, breathing hard. “…ohmygod.” Karen gasped. She slowly straightened up and put a hand on her abdomen; she was a little sore from the depth, but she felt warm and refreshed all over! Behind her, Jim stood, gently pulling up her panties and pants and buttoning her fly. “Thanks honey,” he said, kissing her neck and giving her booty a pat and squeeze combo. “Don’t mention it,” Karen said with a smile. As she padded around the kitchen making her cookies, she could feel his load in her panties, leaking from her ass and making her buttocks slide past each other smoothly. “Can’t wait for the next bad day…” she said, shaking her head with a smile. Add Some Real Power to Your Jacking Now guys, how often has this happened to you? You have some free time on hand, you're wife, girlfriend, friend with benefits, significant or insignificant other is out of town, out shopping or just out of the picture for the next few hours (at least) and you decide to take in a good porn flick. Yeah, it happens sometimes, you have an afternoon of some pure, lowbrow, raw visual entertainment with absolutely no redeeming value except for popping off. Well, you find the perfect flick, get it home without drawing too much attention to yourself, get yourself set up with a beverage, some clean up rags and the remote control and you're ready for an experience. You fire up the DVD player and fast forward though the warnings and notices, endure a bit of useless plot and then suddenly, the clothes are removed and you are watching some of hard-core's finest breasts, cocks, pussies and asses in all their enormous, gleaming and thrusting beauty. Yeah, you know those flicks and three minutes into the feature you are wanking away and try as you might, with all that hot action on the screen you are coming right along with the actor onscreen. And there you are, not even five minutes into your ninety minute porn film and you've shot your wad. What do you do? What do you do? Well sure, for you younger guys you just carry on, but then again, after you've popped your load for a second time and you're only ten minutes into the film, you're still stuck. You could go on watching hoping to work up another hard-on, but damn, unless you've got an ample supply of some good lube your gonna rub that sucker raw, trying to coax one last cum shot out of it. And damn, even if you've got calluses on your cock your arm's got to be aching after that extended jerking, and we haven't even mentioned carpal tunnel syndrome. Now, you could try rummaging through some of the toys hidden deep in underwear drawers, but after coming once (or twice) those vibrations begin to feel a bit like "...the distant humming of some far-away bees," if you let me (mis)quote Laurie Anderson. Mind you, your head is in the right place, as long as you have batteries or electricity, these devices won't get tired and if you use some common sense, you'll not blister your twister reaching for that cum shot. The problem you face with these toys is simply, as Tim Taylor would say, "You need more power!" More power: that is the answer. Don't go digging through your draws looking for those mild mannered girlie toys, step boldly into the garage, saunter up to the workbench and inject some real power into your sex life. That said gentlemen, let's use a bit of discretion here. Stay far away from any blades, hammers, drills, planes, scrapers, rippers, crow bars and screwdrivers. The secret here is to remember the concept of many of the toys we talked about earlier... think vibration. That's it, your good old vibratory sander. Much like the toys described above, these vibratory sanders come in different shapes and sizes. Ryobi and several other manufacturers will make some fine specialty sanders and these may work for some kinky activity, but for just flat out, double, triple or even quadruple cum shots I recommend an old faithful. The Craftsman standard vibratory sander brings an earth shattering ¼ horsepower of jittering joy to even the deadest dick. When using any of these sanders, it is important to remember to remove any sandpaper from the tool or you'll be raw for a month. Once you get rid of the sandpaper you are ready to experience power sex. Now, the Craftsman sander features a soft rubber padding with a smooth surface that, with a bit of courage can be applied directly against your skin, even the most sensitive areas around the glans and balls. If you are extra sensitive or are a bit nervous with the tool, you could use it through your clothing or use a towel to give you some extra padding. The towel is good to have on hand anyway, because using this tool, you'll have a lot of cleanup. If you are having trouble picturing a scenario, I'll outline a possible agenda that takes full advantage the new features of your tool. Feel free to explore variations on this scenario that will satisfy your specific kinks or needs. I choose a movie from my small collection of DVDs, not a compilation one that tosses the cum shots at you at fifty shots and hour, but one where I can experience at least a bit of build-up. I start up the DVD, move over to a comfortable chair, carefully placing the towel on one arm and leaning the vibratory sander on the other, making sure it is plugged in. I pull off my tee shirt, shorts and jockey shorts and, completely naked now, I settle back into the chair. Fast forwarding through the start up screen and a bit of the superfluous dialogue, I kick back to normal speed as the clothes begin to come off onscreen. As the actor and actress undress each other and the woman's enormous breasts are sucked, licked, squeezed and tossed about, I slowly draw my palms up my chest, lightly circling over my stomach and then up onto my chest. By now my cock is hard, but I avoid any contact with it. Finding my nipples, I gently circle them with my fingertips, feeling the tiny nubs harden to my touch. The tingling shoots though me so I can even feel some sensation in my balls, and I continue toying with my nipples as onscreen I watch the actor's tongue now slide up the actresses open pussy lips. He diddles her clit with his tongue as I start to reach for my cock. At this point, I have a decision to make. I can go with the old fashion jack-off for my first orgasm, which will go pretty quickly considering the inspiration I receive from the onscreen images, or I can go with the sander and take advantage of a full load of cum when I come. Consider this, with your first orgasm, the intensity will be increased using the tool and often your come shot will be reminiscent of Ron Jeremy in his prime, before he gained all that weight and joined the cast of Real Life. Just be prepared for the cleanup because you'll be wiping cum from walls and ceilings. Before I touch my cock, I pull my fingers along my thighs and gently brush over my balls, just to tease myself a bit more. On-screen the man and woman are now going doggie style, with an excellent camera angle showing the glistening cock slipping in and out of her pussy, her lips expanding and contracting around his cock. I reach for the sander and gently ease the soft rubber padding to just above my balls so that it gets just the base of my cock along with my balls. Leaning back in my chair I stare at the screen, where the actress has rolled onto her back and is playing with her nipples as the actor plunges his cock into her pussy. Convincing myself her orgasm is real and not just acting, I turn on the sander and let the vibration ripple over my entire crotch. The onscreen intensity is building and I know the cum shot is not far away, so I press the sander harder against me, letting the massive vibration electrify my cock and balls. The noise from the sander grounds out the sound on the TV, and I know my neighbors are experiencing interference on their afternoon baseball game. Varying the intensity of sensation riddling my balls and shaft by increasing or decreasing how hard I push the sander against me, I time my cum shot with the action on TV. Just as the actor pulls his cock out of the actress' pussy I let myself go, shooting my cum up on my chest, all the way up to my chin. On screen, white, glistening liquid arches over the woman, splashing on her breasts and running down the large curves. The vibrations continue as my cock pulses again and again, shooting my come in descending rainbows onto my stomach and into my pubic hair. I finally shut down the sander and relax, savoring the faint sound of dialogue on TV as the lead up to another sex scene drags on. I grab the towel, wipe off my chin, chest and stomach and begin honing in on the action onscreen as the clothes are once again torn off. I'll coast through the next scene, perhaps toying with my nipples and generally recovering from my orgasm. After a scene or two of teasing, I'll be ready for another power shot. Given the length of this movie, I figure I'll be good for two, perhaps three more shots. I feel my cock begin to harden some from the teasing on my nipples... Depending upon your general health and the quality of porn you are watching, you could carry on for a number of cum shots. You might also consider having a piece of wood near your chair in case your significant other walks in on you, you can explain you were sanding the wood and well, just got carried away. Hey, she might believe it. For the Ladies Keep in mind fellows, the thought of more power can also be applied to the ladies in your life. I do urge you to introduce her to the idea slowly and don't come barging in from the garage, covered in sawdust, still wearing your safety goggles, with your sander screaming and shooting out sparks. You might want to get her a little drunk... well, get her hammered and then give it a shot. Be sure to have plenty of extra soft padding to reassure her. Of course you face the possibility that she'll really like the sander and then you'll never be able to find it when you have some sanding to do. Addams Family 1977 Another note from the author: The characters in this story are (loosely) based on The Addams Family television program which originally aired on broadcast television for only two seasons in the mid 1960s. This story begins about the time of the not so memorable made for TV movie in 1977, Halloween with the Addams Family, roughly eleven or twelve years after the final TV episode. Please note: everyone is over the age of eighteen. Chapter 1 - The Empty Mansion 0001 Cemetery Lane, Wood Lawn Area, Green Briar, USA Our tale begins with the solitary figure of Gomez Addams standing within the shaded interior of the garret, a small four sided look-out tower which graced the roof of his family's gothic style mansion. His dark hair was disheveled, his face shadowed by three days growth of beard. Addams was dressed in one of his favorite suits though he, most uncharacteristically, wore no tie. His white shirt as well as his black pinstriped suit coat and trousers bore the telltale creases of having been slept in. Several times. His black wingtip shoes had obviously not been polished for several months. The mansion too had seen far better days. Over the centuries the impressive structure's once grand exterior has been allowed to fall victim to the ravages of time. The edifice had stood on this spot, tucked snuggly between the swamp and the long abandoned cemetery since long before the suburban community of Green Briar and its environs sprung up around it. Within the tower, the rough hewn cedar floor measured roughly six foot long by six foot wide, and there was just enough room beneath the rafters supporting its shallow roof for a very tall man to stand comfortably. That very tall man being the family's butler, Lurch, who measured just a few inches short of an impressive seven feet in height. In the shadows between the ancient rafters dozens of bats nested sleepily awaiting the onset of twilight. Located in the center of the wooden floor was a trap door. This allowed access to the garret from the winding staircase below. Each of the four slightly inwardly sloping walls contained one centrally located arched top window. Each of these was equipped with a heavy iron latch on one side and iron hinges on the other so they could be swung open to admit the cool breezes that so often swept in from the ocean. As with the rest of the mansion, several of the windows had cracked over time. Much of the ancient glazing was either broken or missing altogether thus allowing the panes of glass to rattle noisily in their frames given the slightest hint of breeze. Here and there corners of the glass had long since fallen away. The slightest ocean breeze would cause the brittle window glass to rattle within their sashes. The casements also opened to allow access to the narrow widow's walk surrounding the garret. Every one of the windows was tightly latched today. Curtains of spider webs enshrouded the brittle glass, layers of dust and grime partially obscured his view of the street below. Heaving a long and pitiful sigh, Mr. Addams leaned on his telescope and gazed out through the cracked front window. The street below was distorted by the irregularities in the ancient glass but he did not care. He was not really seeing the peaceful scene below. His mind was entirely focused on his troubles. Again and again over the past few months Gomez had found himself ascending the ancient iron staircase that led from the dusty attic to this tiny sanctuary as if drawn by some unknown force. Sometimes, under cover of darkness, he would step out through the open window onto the narrow ledge of the widow's walk. There he would skulk about until the first light of dawn drove him back into the mansion's dank, dark and welcoming interior. Even in happier times, though it was technically part of the butler's private suite, the garret as well as its accompanying widow's walk had always been two of his favorite haunts. This was especially true when Gomez wanted a place of solitude in which to brood, which given his innate good nature was not very often. The lookout tower's best assets were its proximity and easy access to the lightning rod on top. From here, on moonlit nights, Gomez Addams could look far out over the ocean. Like a sailor high up in his crow's nest, Gomez would watch in eager anticipation for the squalls and storms that so frequently blew onto the coast. During thunderstorms he would often scramble up onto the tower's steep roof. As the rain soaked him to the skin he would stand precariously atop slippery slate tiles with his limbs draped about the rusty iron lightning rod. There he would wait in eager anticipation. He came here even more often these days. His heart might be broken but, deep inside, Gomez Addams remained ever hopeful. There was always a chance, no matter how small, that he if he was vigilant and if he was patient he just might be struck by lightning - again. And what could be more pleasant than that? During inclement weather (that is to say when the sun was shining and the weather was warm) Gomez had taken to wandering through the dusty rooms of his now silent mansion. Sometimes he felt like a ghost, haunting his own ancestral home alongside the ghosts of Grandma Squint who haunted the attic and Cousin Blob who preferred the musty cellar. Odd how still and peaceful the old homestead was now. Much too peaceful. The mansion, filled to the brim with a bizarre array of family curiosities, had for so many years teemed with all of the happy sounds of life and of love. Now the badly neglected structure was as quiet and as peaceful as the proverbial tomb. As appealing as that simile might have once sounded to him, Gomez was miserable. Throughout his life, being miserable had been one of his favorite leisure-time pursuits. No longer. His misery brought him little pleasure these days. There had been precious little pleasure in his life since the children had grown and moved out, his son Pugsley to Africa to study medicine under the watchful eyes of a witchdoctor named Mobogo and his daughter Wednesday to the Music Academy to study the flute, and his beautiful wife Morticia whom he loved more than life had withdrawn from him, informing him that she was suffering from some strange malady called 'Empty Nest Syndrome'. And then, inexplicably, she had decided to become involved in politics. Politics! No, these days Gomez found little pleasure in his misery. Grandmamá, too, was gone now. She had left for 'the old country' just before Christmas last year. Now she were somewhere in Old Castile staying with relatives who lived in a medieval castle. Grandmamá was boning up on the lost art of fortune telling as well as the fine arts of spell casting and potion mixing. With Morticia, Grandmamá, and the children gone, even old Uncle Fester had become bored and restless. One day he had simply wondered off, in search, so he said, of the 'meaning of life'. Gomez had other relatives, of course, but they were few now and widely scattered across the globe. Most of the Addams clan lived very far away and, of course, all had their own lives, their own worries, their own problems. Even the perpetual bachelor Cousin Itt had married and now was busy with his growing family. He had little time for Gomez. The patriarch of the western branch of the Addams clan, Gomez tried to be understanding. He knew what it was like to have a wife and a family to look after. Well… he used to know. Turning toward the rear windows of the tower Gomez spun his telescope around on its tripod and peered through the lens across the vast expanse of green lawn. Since Morticia had been away Gomez found it nearly impossible to control the growth of the lush grass in the back yard, so thick now it was literally choking out the lovely thistles, thorns and crabgrass. Even the gnarled and twisted limbs of the ancient trees scattered about their property, trees which until recently had seemed completely devoid of life, were now determined somehow to revive. Even the deadest trees were proudly sprouting bright new yellow-green leaves. Had the world gone completely mad? Gomez could hardly bear to look at them. Across the back of the property was the ancient cemetery. It abutted the property all the way to the swamp. Beneath the canopy of live oak trees, some of which dated back to the turn of the century in which the mansion had been built, the carpet of grass had grown so tall that in places it totally obscured the moss covered grave stones. In happier days, the old cemetery had been a source of great joy for he and his family. When he and Morticia had returned from their honeymoon they had spent their first night in that very cemetery. What a beautiful Halloween that had been. Though the spirits of the dead all arise to walk the earth on All Hallows Eve, they had all made themselves discreetly absent while he and his lovely young bride made love on the ground beneath the leafless trees. Could it really have been twenty-three years ago? It seemed only yesterday. There among the broken headstones which decorated the graves of his dearly departed relatives the happy couple spent the entire night making love, the incredibly romantic scene lit by black wax candles and a huge harvest moon which gazed down at them from just over the treetops. He and his beloved Morticia were so young then, so very much in love. How beautiful his bride had been dressed in a gown of sheer black lace. Was it any wonder that they would choose to live here in his ancestral home and subsequently raise their children in this idyllic spot, in close proximity to the cemetery where so many of his family members already resided. And how many happy hours had his growing children spent within the graveyard's high walled confines, playing hide and boo, digging up their ancestors, or burying their playmates? Like her husband, Morticia adored living in Green Briar. The climate in this part of the country, so near the Northern Pacific coast, was very nearly perfect. Most days the weather was blissfully cool and the skies gray and cloudy. Tucked snuggly between the sea and the mountains it rained nearly every afternoon, and even on those rare occasions when the rain did not fall gloomy gray skies usually held the promise of rain. Morticia's favorite weather brought thunderstorms, Gomez enjoyed them too but what he loved most of all were those rare and special days when a thick blanket of fog enshrouded the mansion, the swamp and the neighboring cemetery. In his imagination their home was a ghost ship adrift in a sea of clouds, the trees were tiny islands and the tombstones were the jagged peaks of coral reefs on which their vessel was about to be smashed to bits. It was all so very romantic. Unfortunately today, as Gomez stood alone in the belvedere, the midsummer sun had managed to break through the gloom and was now shining brightly in an azure sky. Even the Gothic graveyard with its ancient gnarled and twisted trees and broken headstones appeared bright, almost cheerful today. Gomez had never been so depressed. Twisting the telescope on its tripod he aimed it down toward the ghastly scene. He could only gasp in horror when he saw the abundance of rose blossoms, each petal as red as blood. They covered the gnarled rosebushes. What a pity! The blight of flowers almost completely obscured his view of the lovely thorns. Thorns that Morticia loved so dearly that she had taken cuttings from the rosebushes to plant in her own garden during the early years of their marriage. When Gomez could look upon the cheerful sunlit scene no longer he swung the telescope and shifted his attention farther to the right. Peering down into the eyepiece he readied himself for a magnificent close-up view of the swamp. To his dismay, however, the view through the lens seemed fuzzy, out of focus. He could barely make out the detail of the bog's beautiful scummy green surface. When he tried to adjust the focus the telescope he realized what he was actually seeing was a thick cloud of insects hovering just above the algae. That realization brought with it a sudden pang of longing. Oh, how he yearned to be down there, standing naked, knee deep in that stinking, clinging muck while he relished the insects' stinging bites. Gomez sighed deeply. As tempting as it was he knew he would not go. Even that enormous pleasure would not be the same without his beloved Cada Mia to share it with him. Forsaking his telescope Gomez was considering abandoning the tower to the inclement sunshine when, through the grimy rear window, something below happened to capture his attention. He glanced down into his wife's beloved garden. To his horror her garden, too, was a riot of color from the abundant flower blossoms. Blossoms that threatened to overtake the carefully cultured plot. He shook his head. In his misery he had been very neglectful of his Morticia's lovely garden. The familiar 'whoop-whoop-whoop' resounded through the mansion alerting Gomez to the arrival of the daily mail. Thing would retrieve it. He always did. If there was anything of importance his butler Lurch would inform him. But no! Gomez had all but forgotten, the butler too was away. When last Gomez had heard Lurch was sailing solo toward South America and a well deserved vacation on Devil's Island. He had been gone now for months. Bless Lurch's Herophilian heart, thought Gomez. Even the family's ever loyal butler had, in the end, been unable to abide Gomez and his broken heart. A moment later the lid lifted on the trapdoor with a creak, and a decidedly masculine hand appeared clutching a small stack of envelopes. Gomez sighed … again … and tried to smile. At least his faithful old childhood friend Thing had not deserted him in his time of heartbreak. Though not much for conversation, the disembodied hand as well as its lovely wife Lady Fingers had been a great comfort to Gomez during this time of suffering. "Thank you, Thing," Gomez said. "I'll read those downstairs in the parlor in a few minutes." Obligingly the hand withdrew beneath the trapdoor taking with it the stack of correspondence. The warmth and bright sunshine finally convinced Gomez to abandon the tower for the remainder of the day and return to the cool darkness that awaited him below. Downstairs in the parlor he could sit in his upholstered leather chair and peruse whatever the daily post had brought. Perhaps there was a letter from Washington in that stack. It had been days since Morticia had written. He could almost smell her perfume on the envelope now. The very thought of her scent aroused his Castilian lust. She had been away so long his passionate blood burned for the smell, the touch, and the taste of her milky white skin. If there was a letter was from her in the mail he would hold the envelope to his nostrils, inhale deeply and imagine she was there in the room with him and perhaps relieve his frustrations by splashing his seed across the living room rug… but, alas, his fist and his imagination was a poor substitute for the genuine flesh and blood of his beautiful Morticia. Besides Bruno's once silky white fur was becoming awfully sticky lately. He hoped for a letter from Morticia. There could be an letter from his daughter Wednesday. Or there might be an exotic Congo stamp affixed to an epistle from Pugsley. Gomez and Morticia were so proud of their son, the witchdoctor. Even a postcard scrawled with Lurch's all but illegible hieroglyphs would be welcome today, even though Wednesday was the only soul in the family who could decipher his scrawl. Gomez sighed yet again. Best not to get his hopes up. If nothing else, there might possibly be a bill… maybe two. Bills, especially past due and threatening ones, had been known to cheer Gomez when he had the blues. And today Gomez Addams definitely had the blues. Gomez slowly made his way down the winding staircase. With each step the rusty iron stairs creaked familiarly under his weight. Perhaps, he thought, if today's mail was a disappointment he might just sit in the parlor and check on the value of his stock holdings. Every day his ticker tape machine still spit out mile upon mile of stock market gains and losses on demand for his viewing pleasure. However even his stock investments had been a great disappointment as of late. The stock market might be volatile but, no matter what he did, the values of his stock holdings kept going up and up. As he continued his descent Gomez consoled himself with the thought that perhaps today there would be some bad news for a change. He was due for some. The taxes on his earnings were draining his bank account. Sometimes it seemed that he could not give his money away!! The third floor attic was lit by the sunshine filtering through the dusty windows. Dust motes caught the light as they slowly drifted in the warm, moist air. With the exception of the butler's room and a small, but pleasantly gloomy guest room, the entire upper floor of the mansion was filled to overflowing with a variety of moth-eaten antiques and family memorabilia, most of which had been displaced over the years from the overcrowded rooms on lower floors. To Gomez this attic was a treasure-trove. How many lovely stormy afternoons had he and Morticia spent rummaging through these precious Addams family heirlooms? Moving to the main staircase, Gomez continued down to the second floor. The first door he passed was Pugsley's bedroom. Or at least the room that had been Pugsley's when the boy still resided within these walls. Deserted now, the room was still filled with all of the accoutrements so necessary to the happiness of a growing boy. Dynamite caps and DANGER signs. Gomez glanced at the faded paintings of baby vultures still painted on the bedroom door and shook his head. He remembered when his bride Morticia, then heavy with child had painted those lovely, graceful birds on the ancient wood. She was always the artistic one. The next room he passed had been his daughter Wednesday's. Inside a maze of spider webs stretched across much of the areas where his young children once played. Gomez paused to gaze inside. A thick layer of dust and a latticework of spider silk festooned even the electric chair in the far corner where Wednesday had so often attempted to execute her older brother. For a moment Gomez immersed himself in those fond memories. In spite of himself, Gomez almost smiled. Almost. Wednesday's pet spiders had certainly been busy since she had been away, he mused. The most artistically spun webs had been created by the descendants of Homer. Wednesday's very first Black Widow. Their butler Lurch had given Wednesday the venomous spider as a pet when the girl was only six. Homer, too, was now no more than a fond memory, though her descendants still thrived. As beautiful as the lacy webs appeared, today even these homey sights could not cheer Gomez. In fact, their beauty only added to his melancholy. Shaking his head, Gomez continued down the corridor. He paused for a moment as he passed the open door to the master bedroom. Puzzled, he frowned. He'd shut that door, hadn't he? He had vowed never to enter that room again until his beloved Morticia returned to him. Stepping into the open doorway he gazed inside. He and his bride had shared this room for throughout the years of their long and happy marriage. 'It had been a happy marriage, hadn't it?' The room lay in darkness now, its wooden shutters bolted tight against the intrusive sunlight. Dark, gloomy and inviting. The still air held that faintly musty smell they both so adored. Gomez remembered in vivid detail every single night he and his 'Tish' had spent together in this room. Long, wonderful nights when his Cara Mia lay sleeping by his side. With very few exceptions, every night since they returned from their honeymoon in Death Valley had been spent together in that room. On that enormous bed with its lovely mattress as hard as concrete. Nearly every night of their marriage they had made love on that bed, often filling the night with the chorus of groans from the bed's wooden frame, its ancient springs squeaking in time to the rhythm of their movements, their panting breath, the guttural sounds of their growling and snarling as they nibbled and bit and scratched at one another. Some nights they went at it several times before the dawn brought an end to their frolicking and sex play. Addams Family 1977 Each object, each corner of the room held fond memories. Over the years, he and Morticia had made love on every square inch of that room. On the bed. Under the bed. On the rug on the floor. On the bedside chair. On the bedside table. On the dresser. On the window ledge. On the trunk at the foot of the bed. In the trunk at the foot of the bed. In the wardrobe. Under the wardrobe. On top of the wardrobe. Suspended upside-down from the rod in the closet. Thinking about all of that sexual activity reminded Gomez of their honeymoon. That was certainly a week he would never forget. After their nuptials the happy couple had piled into the roadster and Lurch chauffeured them to Death Valley where they spent a blissful week of love in a dank, bat-filled cave. On his wedding night, as Gomez waited alone in the dark, his beautiful bride had come to him, shyly, her bright eyes downcast. Wearing the traditional sheer black lace nightgown, in her delicate hand she carried a single black candle. How timid, how frightened and uncertain she had seemed. Within the cave a dank breeze tossed her glossy black hair around her narrow shoulders as the candle flame flickered. She had been a maiden when they married, untouched. And he, Gomez had been a man of the world. To his great shame he had been a beast that night, he would be the first to admit it. But it had taken years for him to find the right woman. The instant he laid eyes on her he had known. He had awaited this night for so very long and his prize was his at last. He could contain his passion for her no longer. In his haste to possess her, he had torn away the sheer fabric of her gown. How breathtaking his bride had been. Her deathly-pale skin shown a ghostly white in the glow of the flickering candlelight. Capping each of her small breasts her nipples were as red as her blood-red lips. Her belly flat and smooth and between her slender legs shimmering black hair concealed her virgin womanhood. How naïve she had been. Unlike Gomez who had courted many more worldly women in his youth, Morticia had had no previous experience in the ways of love, yet, she had been ready, even eager, to learn. As the candle burned low, their oldest child Pugsley had been conceived that very first night, lying on the cold hard floor of the cave as the bats fluttered about overhead. Sadly, thinking about that night only served to remind Gomez just how long it had been since he had even seen his beautiful wife, let alone touched her. With their hot Castilian blood, Addams men were ill equipped to live a celibate life. Dejectedly Gomez closed the bedroom door this time making certain this time that the latch caught. If he had to, next time he would nail it shut! He could no longer bear the sight of that room … or that bed. The huge, rock-hard mattress was just too inviting. His back ached from sleeping, night after night, on the soft sofa in the parlor. But he simply could not force himself to sleep in that bed … not alone, not without his Cara Mia. Almost since the day they wed that had always been their bed. Though his heart was shattered at the very least Gomez did take some small comfort in his physical pain. Halfway down the mansion's central staircase Gomez nearly slipped and tumbled down the remaining stairs when he stepped into a massive hairball which Kitty Kat had so thoughtfully left behind. Bless his leonine heart, Gomez thought. Even in his declining years, Kitty is thinking of me and, in my loneliness, is leaving me little gifts. I will have to make sure to put a little something special in his dinner bowl tonight. Perhaps some of that leftover fungus marinated Yak flank steak… oh, yes, and I must make a point of cleaning out his litter box this afternoon! The not so subtle fragrance of ammonia is beginning to permeate the entire structure. After scraping the sole of his shoe on the edge of the tread, Gomez continued down to the main floor. There he wandered through each adjoining room, gazing forlornly at the scattered remnants of his once happy life. He listened to the deafening silence. The only sound, the ticking of the clock in the parlor and the melancholy echo of his own footsteps on the hardwood floors. In the dining room Gomez paused. Their daughter had been conceived a mere fifteen months after their son Pugsley's birth. Unlike her brother, Wednesday had been conceived here within the Addams' house. She had, in fact, been conceived right here on this dining room table. Gomez smiled at the memory of the mad, all consuming impulse that had driven him to leap from his chair just as the first course of the meal was about to be served, clear the dinner table with one swipe of his forearm and, pulling is wife into his arms, he tore open her gown and lay her exquisite milky white body down upon the oak table's well-worn finish. Then, after hastily tearing away his own clothing, he had ravished her then and there. It had been her own fault, the little vixen! What a mad, impetuous woman! They had been married for several years at that point and she very well knew what effect French had on him, yet recklessly, she had uttered those words all the same. "Bon appétit." Little Pugsley's high chair stood beside the massive table. But as a toddler, the boy had been much too young to eat Mamá Addams' special dragon's blood olla podrida, and, since Uncle Fester was allergic to its exotic spices, Fester and the toddler had spent that particular evening in the back yard tree house, climbing, playing games, and eating salamander sandwiches instead. Pugsley's Grandmamá, on the other hand, had been less than thrilled upon seeing the steaming caldron of dragon's blood stew – an old Addams family delicacy which takes several days to prepare properly - sailing across the room. Yes, Gomez's poor old white-haired Mama could only gape in incomprehension as her spicy olla podrida was spoiled and her priceless heirloom dishes and glassware crashed and shattered onto the hardwood floor at their feet. Lost in his memories Gomez laid a hand on the table's cool oak surface. Like a faithful old family retainer, the massive old table had held up well under the pounding he had given it (and his wife) that evening so long ago, though as he recalled it the table had creaked loudly in protest with each thrust. He had continued to pound into her until, sweating profusely, he began to find it difficult to maintain his grasp on her. Through a haze of lust he had gazed down upon his naked bride in the center of the table, her raven-black hair spread all around her like a fan. A melodic symphony of sounds engulfed the room. The rhythmic resounding slapping of flesh on flesh each time his hips made solid contact with her small but shapely ass. And then, at long last, he had cried out in supreme triumph at the moment of ejaculation as he filled his bride with his semen. At last his thrusting ground to a halt, his lust satiated at last, if only for the moment. Gasping for air, Gomez stood for the longest time and gazed in awe upon his bride as she lay spread out on the table before him. A veritable feast for the eyes. Her long, lean body. Beneath her ashen skin, aglow now after multiple orgasms, taut abdominal muscles quivered. Her long legs spread wide for him, wrapped round his waist, her loins still impaled upon his rapidly softening phallus. Had he not already been winded, his breath would have been taken away by this exquisite creature. He could barely comprehend that this woman belonged to him. His bride. His woman. His wife. The mother of his son. His heart swelled with love. On impulse he had gathered her body up into his arms and smothered her with kisses. He kissed her full red lips, her half-closed eyelids, her forehead. When she threw back her head in invitation he kissed and nibbled on her exquisite white throat. He kissed every inch of her exposed flesh within reach of his lips. In between kisses he tried as best he could, though words seemed woefully inadequate at such a poignant occasion, to express the immeasurable depth of his passion, his complete and utter devotion, as well as his unspeakable good fortune that he alone, of all men, should have won the heart of such a prize as she. What a woman! Finally, with great reluctance he had released his bride, returning her elegant form to the tabletop and slowly withdrawing his now flaccid penis. She lay there but a moment longer, her long elegant legs still splayed as her husband's abundant seed oozed from her loins, anointing the tabletop beneath her shapely derriere. Then Gomez, grinning broadly and exceedingly pleased with himself at his own sexual prowess, set about the daunting task of retrieving his clothing scattered among the shards of broken glass and china. He redressed himself at a leisurely pace, even while continuing to admire his lovely wife's grace and beauty. After taking but a moment to collect herself Morticia rose and, with the utmost poise, removed herself from the tabletop. Her black gown was shredded down the front exposing her heaving breasts and dripping womanhood. She smiled serenely and without a hint of modesty, announced to Mamá and their wide-eyed dinner guests that she would be serving the main course of the repast forthwith. What a woman! Morticia had outdone herself on the gastronomic delights that evening. As Gomez recalled the main course had consisted of brazed hummingbird tongues served on a bed of wilted deadly nightshade leaves and garnished with fresh wolf's bane sprigs. Following the entrée Morticia had served a very special dessert. A little something she had prepared beforehand. The culmination to the scrumptious meal had consisted of colorful individual parfaits fashioned of succulent early-season pond scum, sweetened with red, ripe belladonna berries and adorned with tiny multicolored toadstools. An old Frump family recipe masterfully adapted for the season by her own very talented hands. A ravenous Gomez had found the meal and the dessert nearly as delectable as he had his bride just moments before. It seemed most unfortunate however, that, for some reason which he could not immediately fathom, their dinner guests had been strangely withdrawn during the subsequent dinner courses and throughout the remainder of the evening. Their eyes downcast, they had barely touched their food. It broke his gallant heart to see all of his wife's culinary efforts go utterly unappreciated. His mind on other things, by the time Gomez realized his faux pas, it was far too late to alter his abhorrent behavior or to make amends to their stunned dinner guests. Later, in hindsight, he could only chastise himself for his total lack of self-control. Upon further reflection it should have been glaringly obvious to anyone with eyes that their dining companions had been less than pleased to have missed out on the spicy stew. After all, Mamá's special dragon's blood olla podrida was (and still is) renowned throughout the known world!