10 comments/ 34043 views/ 21 favorites Theo By: IncomingPornDuck Ch. 1: Mia It must have been a Tuesday when Mia shook me out of my late afternoon nap and told me to come to a party with her because I was dreaming of rain, and I only dream of rain on Tuesdays. This is a pattern I didn't notice until I'd become a fully fledged bumbling adolescent, and so, lacking both self confidence and a mind capable of explaining such a strange thing to anybody else, I kept this knowledge to myself, but in that peculiar way where the fact is repeatedly misplaced somewhere in the mind, perhaps hidden amongst the loose papers and boxes there, and I find it only when I wake up and realize that the sound of rain I thought I'd been hearing was in fact only the product of my unconscious. "Come on! They're waiting outside. I got you coffee." Amidst the headache that always accompanies my return to consciousness I smelled the bitter aroma of black coffee directly beneath my nose, and smiled. Some people understand. "Wow, a smile, and it hasn't even been five minutes since you woke up. Fuck I'm good." I risked cracking an eye open and saw jean-covered knees opposite the coffee table adjacent to the sofa I was sleeping on, and my first thought was to offer for her to borrow an umbrella because it was raining outside. I started to vocalize this sentiment when I opened the other eye and became very aware of the unpleasantness of the sun on my face through the window as it illuminated the steam rising from the mug in front of me. Right -- no rain. And damn, she'd made the coffee in the kitchen not twenty feet away from me and I hadn't even woken up... Tuesdays. I stretched and rolled off the couch onto the floor next to the coffee table with a disjointed thud, then reached up for the mug and as carefully as possible brought it down to the ground with me and sipped it. It was disgusting and wonderful, a sentiment you can only appreciate if you too subscribe to the philosophy that a day uncaffeinated is a day spent zombified. I grumbled something close to thank you but closer still to the sound of a table moved across hardwood floor, and I didn't have to look at Mia's face to know she was rolling her eyes. "Come out in five, alright? People will only think waiting for you is funny for so long." I heard her soft footsteps start to leave the room and for some reason this struck me as quite possibly the most incorrect thing in the world. Not that it was a horrible thing or a painful one, just that it was very strikingly wrong. "Mia." And her steps stopped, and she turned, and I stood up and must have looked horrible because she looked at my hair and grinned the grin reserved for letting me know how much of a fuckup I was. "Stay for a second?" She made a big show of checking her watch and sighing before taking off her coat and tossing it over a chair. As she walked slowly over to me, looking at anything but me, the chair, the table, my bookcase, I became distinctly aware of the fact that I had no shirt on and was wearing pretty thin pajamas, and became even more aware of the feeling of the fabric on my junk and the impressionable bulge that must have resulted. I held the coffee in one hand and raised it to my lips holding her face in my gaze -- she wasn't looking at me but I knew she expected me to look at her as she kept pace and steadily came closer, and closer, she stepped over my jacket which I had tossed on the floor the night before, and a pair of pants, some boxers and socks. Without looking she navigated the cloth maze I made of my floor and I put my coffee down on the table as she came right in front of me, and only then did she turn from absently looking at a picture of the sea on my wall and look at me. And God fucking damnit could she look at me. I don't really know how she does it, if it's something in her or something about me that transforms what she does into something more than it was initially, but when Mia looks at me no matter what I am wearing I feel as if I am naked -- that I have no clothes, no skin, bones or organs, that I am reduced to the ethereal fabric which keeps my body sewn together, and that she is staring at this ineffable presence and daring it to fuck her. Pooled in her eyes I see the desire to watch my body burn as she fucks me past oblivion into a space of her own creation. Her gaze is disrobing, those eyes could tear down a city wall if they so desired, and I must have been staring slack jawed as I usually do because her mouth quirked at the side, and that was the final straw. I'd like to think that I'm a good man, that I treat women with respect, that I am courteous and kind, that I am the embodiment of the counterargument against the death of chivalry. And for the most part, I am. But when Mia stares at me like that, I forget everything. I lose it all -- the civilization I was born into, the manners ingrained into me by my father and mother, my favorable disposition towards living a life properly, it's all gone, and I am reminded immediately of my own inner bestiality. And I love this girl, because that's what she wants to see in me most of the time. I grabbed her small frame by the throat and lifted her off the ground, slamming her into the wall we were next to. Nothing dimmed in her eyes, if anything, the coals I knew lay beneath the pretense of green flecked with gold and brown burned deeper, I was drawn in more, I lost myself. We weren't in my apartment on Sixth street, the window wasn't three stories up with a view of the off-beige apartments across the street, for all intents and purposes in this life there was her body, my body, and anything that wasn't immediately conducive toward unifying the two of them didn't exist. She'd been pinned against the wall for a few seconds now, her quirk of a grin had grown and she was smiling a wide, wicked smile, her eyes still smoldering. With my free hand I fingered the button on her jeans somewhat clumsily, and this only served to amuse her more. Her face said, I know you want it, take it, you don't deserve it but it's yours because it pleases me. In the same way I largely ignored my recurrent dreams of falling rain on Tuesdays, I tended to ignore the fact that every rush of power and adrenaline and primal rage-fucking desire I exerted over her was only ever done with her implicit permission. I unzipped her pants, and without waiting to take them off I slipped my free hand under the waistband of her black thong and explored where I wanted to. It was for her pleasure, but also for mine. I teased her clit but a little violently and her gaze hardened, and with a wicked smile of my own in a moment of sexual syncronicity, still holding her by the neck and beginning to choke her, I slammed her head into the wall at the same time that I pushed my index finger inside of her, and she gave a strained gasp. I let her down but kept my hand over her throat, and started vigorously pumping my finger in and out of her -- she'd been wet from the beginning and the frenzy I worked into her only made it more lubricated. The fact that her thong would probably be ruined for the day brought to me an interesting amount of pleasure, her eyes were shut closed but her mouth was wide open and she was gasping for air, I kept up the pressure and increased the tempo, adding a second finger at the same time that I released her throat and she stared at me wide open, her eyes were filled with a rage both submissive and indignant, because she and I both knew one thing. Mia can't cum from getting fingered. "Theo....please..." she begged without other context and I knew she wanted to get fucked. But all I did was raise an eyebrow. She seemed so weak before me. I don't know what it was that day, but her vulnerability spurred my selfish sexual drive in a way it normally didn't. Without changing anything in my left hand, her frame started to slide down the wall as her legs weakened, I followed its trajectory a little awkwardly, and idly brought my right hand to her cheek. Her breathing was haggard, fighting for every breath, she was getting really pissed that we weren't fucking, and I lightly brushed her lips with my right hand and she without warning devoured my finger, staring at me with wide eyes going all the way down to my bottom knuckle and back up again, her tongue swirling the entire way, and she gave a sort of mini whine out of her nose, and I knew she couldn't take it anymore. She took my left hand out of her pants and brought it to her mouth in an incredibly slow motion which clashed delightfully with the energy I'd worked into her just a moment ago. Teasing the fingers with her lips and her tongue, she smiled with the hungriness in her eyes that I lived to see as she brought my pajamas down and my hard cock popped out. I'm not huge or anything, and nobody ever believes me when I tell them I've never measured it and have no interest in doing so, but I know it's big enough to get the job done and haven't had many complaints. Without even looking at it she sucked the last of her juices from my fingers and then grabbed my dick and took it in her mouth, I'd say the feeling was divine but I was too high off the power to be content with this and, still groggy from waking up, feeling like the king of apartment 21B on Sixth street, I made the mistake of grabbing her head and forcing my dick all the way into her mouth. The sensation of her lips making suction on the base of my hilt was indescribably good, the completion of feeling the entire thing in there which had never happened before was so amazing. This was probably because I'd just accomplished the forbidden: rule number three with Mia, and there were only three, was No Facefucking. That being a particularly desirous fetish of mine, I'd always resented the rule during our affair but hadn't complained. This was the furthest we'd ever taken the power play between us though, probably due to the fact that I was still not entirely awake and more in tune with my base desires than normal, and I adjusted my grip behind her head to get a fistful of the hair on the back of her head, the back of my hand resting on the wall. Simply put, I fucked Mia's mouth. I kept my dick all the way in there and made small thrusting motions, I took it all the way out and jammed it all the way back in, she kept her mouth wide open and it was heaven on earth, I felt my orgasm approaching, the buildup inside me was one of complete absolution, that everything before this moment was dust and everything after was irrelevant, this orgasm I was about to achieve was the epitome of sexual glory, I didn't have time to wonder why she wasn't stopping me because I was going to cum so deep inside this bitch's throat, she was mine to fuck whenever I wanted, this whore was under my control, "Fuck yeah Mia ohhh fuck yeah I'm gonna cum so soon..." And right as the thought crossed my mind she pushed me away with force, stood up, and with a face I will never forget, spat the saliva which had accumulated in her mouth on my carpet, looked me in the eye, and said: "Have fun jerking off into your kleenex, asshole." And with a surprising amount of dignity, she grabbed my boxers from the ground, wiped her face clean, took her jacket, checked her makeup in the mirror, and, satisfied, opened my door and walked out into the hallway as she popped some mint gum in her mouth. Right before my door closed, she stopped it with a hand, and all I saw was that pale white hand holding it open as she said with horrifying cheekiness and charm, "We're leaving in two minutes. Might want to hurry." I hate her. Ch.2: A Drive To my credit the unfortunate Kleenex I'd chosen for my masturbatory reservoir after she'd left was the proud recipient of the most pleasurable cumshot I've ever seduced from my dick with my own hand, though I knew it was nothing compared to what I'd have gotten from cumming in her mouth. It was a hurried one too, I must have cut quite the ridiculous figure jerking off in a half panic, desperately desiring the orgasm I'd just been denied, rushing to the nightstand where I kept my tissues jacking off as I half ran-half hopped there. I ended up getting most of it on the tissue but some definitely went into the carpet, but I was in no position to care for such trivial matters. Fuck. What did I just do? I admonished myself for being so careless in letting her dominate my psyche and motivate me to break one of the only rules she had put in place for our affair. Not to blame her for my actions, as I hurried to get dressed (black button longsleeve rolled up right before the elbows, grey/green chinos, slip on sneakers my friends tell me signify that my father must own a yacht), I was more angry with myself for losing my control. How hard is it to fuck something that good up: Don't fuck my face, don't fuck my ass, and don't fucking tell anyone. Easy shit, Theo, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I had no idea how this was going to pan out, but my friends were outside waiting for me to go party and I wasn't going to keep them waiting any longer. Once I'd taken a second to think I realized Mia's threats of leaving in five or two minutes were empty -- I had the car. Sure, they could have walked, but she was in nice shoes and the party we were going to was a fair distance. Walkable, like any place really, but enough that driving was worth it, and it's not like they would actually leave without me. Still, I wasn't going to take any longer than I had to, so I downed my coffee, and as I headed out the door, I checked myself out in the mirror briefly to make sure there weren't any red flags of my preceding sexual encounter, and just to make sure I looked generally approachable and good. If you've never had the opportunity to be attractive, I don't know how much you'll be able to empathize with me. I am incredibly vain, stupidly so considering I'm not exactly a supermodel kind of guy. I do look good though, and it's something I take pride in, but also something that poses problems for me. I think it has to do with the fact that my own attractiveness is something that is only really ever validated by other people (anyone who would now tell me to love myself, and that everyone is beautiful regardless of their physical appearance is courteously invited to please fuck off), and I didn't like the importance that gave to others, or the hold my ego had over me. Regardless, I looked good enough to leave. I remember the first time someone explained to me why I looked hot: it was a friend of mine in high school, Shaya, who'd said it. I was whining about losing my girlfriend at the time, and feeling like I wouldn't be able to find anyone else ever again, when, sick of hearing about this for the umpteenth time, she told me off. "Theo, you're over six feet, you don't have to cut or style your hair to make it look good and it's black and sort of messy all the time so you always look a little mysterious, you're skinny enough to not be fat and big enough to not be wimpy, you dress like you don't give a shit what others think and your skin is tan enough to not make you come across as some sort of douchebag who sits inside all day. Shut the fuck up, you'll get laid soon enough." I missed Shaya. I've changed my habits a bit since those days, while still dressing for comfort I have capitulated to the demands of both my ego and the real world and have altered my wardrobe to accommodate the occasional night out, my dress shirts aren't tailored but they're slim and my pants are understated but not too casual. The way I looked this night, only a particularly well dressed snobby sort of person would look down on my attire as being too pedestrian, and frankly, I'm not interested in the opinions of that sort of person. I say altered my wardrobe like it was nothing, but really, buying these clothes was a pretty long process. As I walked out my apartment door, satisfied with how I looked, it gave me a little extra boost of satisfaction to know that I worked my ass off to make the money to afford these clothes. I don't come from wealthy parents, I only rarely speak to my dad, and to my mom about once a week, but being in my last year of college my family has distanced even their meager financial relationship to me in an effort to force me into the real world. It hasn't been easy. I bought my first button down shirt and my first pair of pants that wasn't denim or sweats after I was laughed out of an interview for showing up looking like, and I quote, "I'd just rolled out of a bed littered with comic books and used tissues". Well fuck you too, Trader Joes. I'm on the bottom floor so it was a short walk out of my apartment into the street, where my friends were waiting. Four of them total: Mia, of course, standing there looking at me like any friend would, with absolutely no hint of resentment, sexual tension, or anything. My god did she still look stunning. The pants she wore, those beautiful curves... Her tight top and what it did to her rounded tits, it defied all reason that neither I nor her boyfriend was fucking her at this very moment on the sidewalk. Right. Her boyfriend. For a man I know to be definitively straight, Mick is probably the biggest faggot I know. And listen: I know you're going to give me shit for the word, and even if I explain I am very much in support of equal rights for everyone (seriously, like I give a shit if you fuck your own gender or anything, live your life, I'll live mine.) and that I use the word more in a South Park sense, I know I will still receive criticism for the use, that it is an offensive word historically and socially charged with connotations inextricable from it despite all good intentions. I know this. And I use it anyway to say, that you who feels so angry at me, at this use of a word, how flippantly I tossed it out and how dismissively I addressed your concerns... That's the same way I feel about Mick. He's just an unquestionably stupid man who comes from money and has about him the moral fiber of wet cardboard. The emotional depth of a jar of vomit. The panache of a slimy babboon. The courtesy of a molding banana. These comparisons may make no sense to you: this is because this man makes no sense to me. His very existence, the fact that he has hitherto survived without being mercilessly beaten into the ground such that his face is reduced to only the vaguest approximation of humanity, is the miracle of our times. Even further beyond me, is why on Earth Mia would choose to frequent this man's company, or ever touch his penis or heart. She professes to love him, and often times after we've fucked each other into a stupor and laid in bed sharing a cigarette, idly fondling each other, she's talked to me of his huge cock, and that's great. Really, good for him, and for her, but Mia, Mia is no cheap whore, despite what I may have claimed earlier. She is sophistication at its finest, the quintessential modern epitome of overt sexuality hidden behind a character so fierce and persuasive you have no choice but to put her perfect body (to my mind, anyway, and if you say otherwise, I feel so terribly sorry for you) to the side and address the onslaught of passion, intellect, and kindness that is Mia. And she would not stay with this guy just for the money and the gorilla dick. She goes on dates with him and will only fuck me when she feels like it, and that is one of the many reasons I don't believe in God. It just makes no sense at all. "Well look who finally found his keys. Did you lose them in the bathtub?" Mick smirks as he says this, and has that air about him that implies he has just made a joke and isn't looking at everyone to see if they heard, because that would be too obvious, but expects laughter. There is none. Mick isn't very well liked in our group except for by Mia who brought him in, I suspect, out of pity. "The toilet actually, right next to my framed picture of you. Guess which one I fished out?" I smile as I jingle my keys in front of me and we shake hands, his other arm is around Mia who I can tell has suppressed a grin and moved it to her eyes for only me to see, a relief for me though I still don't know where we're at after how I acted. Theo & Mia part 1 Mia and Theo had initially met on a dating site. Before they had met up in person, Mia had started seeing someone which quickly became serious. She decided to delete her account and told Theo about her new relationship. Nevertheless, he asked if they could still meet up as friends. They decided to meet up for coffee on summer night. Coffee dates turned into a weekly occurrence, and they developed a routine of heading to a local café on Saturday mornings. Tonight Mia and Theo decided to try out a new wine bar downtown. It was the middle of December and snowing. The iciness of winter penetrated Mia's down jacket as she walked, causing her nipples to harden and brush up against her sweater. Mia was 23, 5'4'', 120 pounds with tiny breasts and a tiny waist. Her ass was a perfect apple shape that made her boyfriend, Mark, crazy every time he saw it. Her skin was pale, so much that the blue veins in her hips shone through to the surface. Her hair was long and a rich, shiny chestnut. She put minimal effort into her appearance which made her almost more appealing. She was so sexy without even trying. She walked briskly towards the bar trying to evade the cold, thinking of Theo as she walked. Initially she couldn't seem to break the surface with him. He was highly intelligent, well read and had exceptional taste in food and clothing. He was everything she always went for -- artistic, handsome, and slightly aloof. Their conversations were superficial initially. They mostly talked about restaurants they had tried, places they wanted to travel, music they had listened to, events in the city. She rarely brought up the man she was seeing, and Theo rarely brought up any relationships he was involved in. As time went on, Theo had gradually started to reveal more about his life. How his mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor. How his relationship with her was strained because he felt that it was her fault that she was dying as she had initially resisted treatment to instead try complimentary medicine. He became more relaxed the more they talked and was always teasing her about her quirks. As Theo started to open up, he became more and more enticing to Mia. So much that Mia couldn't help but fantasize about what could have been had she had met Theo earlier. So much that every time she met up with Theo, she, for once in her life, spent hours trying to decide what to wear and how to style her hair. She longed for when he would greet her with a hug and she would secretly breathe in his delicious scent while curling up in his arms. When she masturbated she found herself thinking about Theo, screaming out his name in her head as she climaxed. Mia finally found solace in the warmth of the bar, which was surprisingly romantic with dim lighting and black leather booths. Theo hadn't arrived yet so she found a booth near the back of the bar. The bar was mostly empty aside from a table of three men laughing hysterically about something. "Fuck, this is too romantic," she thought to herself as she took off her coat. She was already worrying that her inner feelings were becoming obvious to Theo, and didn't want their friendship to be ruined by some stupid mistake. Mia was a very spontaneous person, enjoying the thrill of a new adventure planned spur of the moment. This unfortunately made her sometimes do very impulsive things. She decided that if her feelings were too strong for Theo at this encounter that she would have to stop seeing him, as she didn't want to jeopardize things with Mark. Underneath her coat she wore a midi black wool tight fitting skirt, knee high boots, a silk black camisole and a loose fitting burgundy sweater. She wore a black lace bralette and a matching thong underneath. When she was in her teens, she hated her small breasts and had always opted for double padded Victoria' Secret bras. With time she had grown to love them, and nowadays she usually opted for bralettes. She glanced at her phone -- 8:11 pm. Theo was always the early one. She wondered where he was. She also had a text message from Mark that she opted to ignore. The server brought by water and the wine list. "Good evening, will anyone be joining you tonight?" "Uh yes, I'm meeting a friend here," Mia replied. "Okay, we'll wait until she arrives and then I'll explain our wine selection tonight," said the server as he walked back to the bar. Mia picked up the wine list and tried to silence her mind. "Is this too romantic for a friendly meet up?" she thought, noticing that the server had assumed she was meeting a female. She felt nervous and felt ridiculous for feeling that way. "Hey, stranger," a voice said. Mia looked up from her wine list and saw Theo standing in front of her. He was gorgeous in his black pea coat, his cheeks flushed from the cold, and a huge smile plastered across his face. His hair was slightly wavy and he had a small amount of facial hair. His piercing light blue almost silver eyes smiled at her. "Hey, Theo," Mia said. He took off his pea coat revealing a grey crew neck wool sweater and dark jeans. For a man he was quite slender, but you could tell he had well defined muscles underneath from daily yoga. Theo sat down next to her in the booth and gave her a big hug. Mia lost herself momentarily in his scent and lingered maybe a moment too long. "I finally beat you!" "Wow, congratulations. First time out of, 20?" he laughed. Theo began to tell Mia about his recent trip to France. All Mia could do was nod ever so often and lavish over his thick, luscious lips as he talked. She couldn't help but imagine Theo grabbing her back and pulling her in to him, using those delicious lips to gently kiss her cheeks, ears, and lips. Breathing into her ears with his hot breath and nibbling her lobes, one of the ways to make her go absolutely crazy and harden her nipples instantly. She imagined him taking his hand and grabbing her breast, reaching underneath her sweater and camisole to find her nipple and pinch it. Taking her lip between his teeth and biting it teasingly, looking into her eyes with a cold, desirous stare. "What about the wine? Did you go to any wineries?" she asked him, all the while thinking of him parting her thighs with his hand, and reaching down her skirt past the soft patch of pubic hair to inside her puffy pink lips, to find her already dripping with silky wetness. She found herself literally biting her bottom lip at the thought and realised that she needed to stop. "Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted," Theo asked a bit curiously. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I've just had a long day at work. I need some wine! What should we try first?" Throughout their first glass, Mia was able to concentrate on their conversation, but she began to ask herself what the point of being someone's friend was if all you could do was think about undressing them. Theo asked if she wanted to get a second glass. She specifically took the bus tonight so that she could drink, but she knew that alcohol typically increased the likelihood of her doing something impulsive. "Erm, yeah sure, why not," she said while thinking to herself, what the hell are you doing! Halfway through her second glass she felt herself starting to let her inhibitions go. This was the part where the angel and the devil on her shoulders started battling it out. On one hand, there was a very sexy man in front of her, who obviously thought she was attractive too, since they had met on a dating site. But on the other, they were friends and she was dating someone. Plus, she didn't even know if Theo had any desire for her. Theo was pretty proper and she might risk everything if she tried something. But then again, yolo. Theo was going on about a movie he had seen recently. "Theo, remember when we first started talking?" Mia cut him off. "Haha, ADD much? Yeah, of course. I deleted that thing months ago. It was horrible. I went on a couple of dates and all of the girls were the worst." "You had all of those pictures of yourself from your trip to Amsterdam. I remember thinking you were so sexy," Mia said, laughing playfully. "Yeah? Do you still?" Theo asked with a charming smile. Mia couldn't tell if he was flirting with her or just joking around. "Yeah, duh. That's the only reason I hang out with you!" she playfully pushed his shoulder. "Thought so. Same here. But maybe a little bit for your conversation," he said. "Why are you bringing it up anyways?" "I don't know..." Mia trailed off. "The wine is making me think of what could have happened if we had met before I was seeing someone." Mia looked down and smiled. She looked up to catch Theo's eye. He looked away. "Oh fuck," she thought. "Mia, I think you should probably put down the wine," Theo said in the tone of a disappointed father. Mia wanted to curl up and die. She was so embarrassed. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry I said that. I was just being silly. You know, Mark and I are really happy." She felt like an idiot rambling on and felt the need to flee. "I'm going to run to the washroom." Mia almost leapt from the booth and headed towards the washroom at the back of the bar. She looked at herself in the mirror and felt so ashamed. She figured she had lost a friendship, but then again, what kind of a friendship was it. She was using Theo as something to gaze upon rather than really caring about what he had to say. She went into the stall and shut the door. "Do I actually have to go back out there?" she thought while sitting on the toilet. Flushing the toilet and pulling up her skirt she heard the click of shoes enter the bathroom. "That's weird, I didn't see any other women in the bar," she thought. Mia opened the bathroom door to see Theo standing right in front of the single stall. She nearly jumped. As soon as she had taken one step out of the stall, he took his right hand and forcefully covered her mouth while using his left hand to grasp her left hip and push her back into the stall. She banged into the wall of the stall, her eyes wide open and not understanding what was happening. "So, how long have you been thinking about me fucking you?" Theo breathed, pressing his body up against hers. "You've been dating Mark for six months and you bring me here to get me drunk? How long have you been planning this you dirty slut?" Mia couldn't believe what she was hearing. But her nipples hardened under her sweater and she felt her pulse quicken. "Did you honestly think I didn't know how you were feeling? You were biting your lip and staring at my lips the entire time we were talking. I bet you didn't hear a single word I said," he moved his face from starting at her directly to moving his mouth millimeters away from her ear. "You were probably just thinking about my cock this entire time weren't you, Mia?" She involuntarily moaned at his words. "You've probably been thinking about my cock for months. I bet you even think of it when your boyfriend is fucking you. I wonder what he would think of you if he could read your mind." She tried to speak beneath his hand, but he kept it in place. "Bitches are meant to be seen and not heard," he laughed, "And fucked." He started licking the inside of her ear, moving down to suck on her earlobe. "This is what you want, isn't it, Mia." He moved his mouth down her neck, licking her and biting her while breathing heavily into her flushed skin. He moved his head to face her directly again. "Tell me, this is what you want," he breathed as he moved his hand from her mouth. "Yes," Mia breathed, almost shaking from how much she wanted him. "So you're just a little cumslut, cheating on her boyfriend," Theo said coldly. "Yes." She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had Theo known this entire time? "Say it then. I'm not going to give you what you want until you say what you are" Theo took her chin in his hand, squeezing her lips together. "I'm a cumslut," Mia said, embarrassed. "My cumslut," he mouthed as he engulfed her mouth with his, both of them breathing loudly into each other. He moved his tongue inside of her mouth, finding hers and teasing it with his. He reached underneath her skirt, battling against her thighs that had become sticky with sweat. He found the soft lace of her thong and pulled it to the side, fingering the soft warmth of her hair covered lips. He gently parted them and found that she was dripping wet. "Fuck, you are so wet Mia," he growled into her mouth causing her to moan. He slowly moved his index finger into her hot, dripping pussy and she moaned loudly into his mouth. With his thumb he found her engorged clit and started circling it. He inserted a second finger into her and slowly began to pump in and out of her, pressing against her g-spot and causing her to cry out in pleasure. Mia moaned. She could feel his hard on pressing through his jeans into her thigh. She wrapped her slender fingers around the shape and started rubbing him through his jeans. Theo withdrew his fingers from her and grabbed the waistband of her skirt, sliding it down her legs. She stepped out of it and he tossed it to the side. He was now kneeling in front of her and looked up at the beautiful sight of her black lace thong and her toned legs. He hastily pulled the thong down her legs and again, stepping out of it, he threw it to the side. Her legs were parted just so that he could have perfect access to her pussy. It was covered in a small amount of dark brown hair, with her perfect puffy lips just waiting to be entered. He grasped both of her thighs and moved forward. His tongue parted her lips and licked from her vaginal opening to her hard clitoris. Her legs shook involuntarily and she moaned again, moving her hands to squeeze her nipples through her sweater. With his tongue he swirled her clit, while breathing in the delicious scent of her pussy. His dick was rock hard. He again took his two fingers and thrust them forcefully into her pussy, while lapping at her clitoris. "Fuck... fuck.... Fuck," Mia moaned, grabbing Theo's hair as he face fucked her. He took his fingers out of her pussy and moved one towards her asshole and began to circle it. "What? No!" Mia cried out, to which Theo replied with a gentle "Shh." Her pussy juices covered his fingers and had already oozed towards her tight asshole, allowing it to be easily penetrated. She had never had a cock up there before, but she secretly loved when men finger fucked her asshole. Theo went back to licking her pussy, now inserting his tongue deep into her aching vagina, and slowly pushed his index finger into her asshole. Mia cried out in pleasure. She couldn't believe this was actually happening. Theo moved his finger in and out of her ass, while darting his tongue in and out of her pussy. He moved his other hand to circle her clitoris. With Mia squeezing her nipples, this was hitting almost every button she wanted pressed. When Theo inserted a second finger into her asshole, stretching Mia out, she lost it. The warm wave of orgasm passed through her entire body and her vagina and anus started spasming around Theo's tongue and finger. Her face crinkled up and her breathing became labored as she cried out "Oh Theo! I'm cumming!" He laughed on the inside since it was so obvious that she didn't have to say it aloud. ...to be continued. Theo Meets Ruthie Theo could scarcely believe his ears. "Do you or don't you?" She demanded. "I'm sorry," he replied, "I'm afraid I couldn't hear you." He knew full well what she had said. She asked him if he wanted to get into her pants. They had been trading glances for over an hour across a crowded barroom and now she was at his side asking him if he wanted to get into her pants! "I think you heard me the first time." She whispered into his ear. Her warm breath sent a chill down his spine and he blushed. "I bet my friends that you would be getting into my pants before midnight." He looked back at her table and her three friends were watching intently. They waved. Theo blushed an even brighter red. "What will it be?" She demanded. "Will you help me win my bet or do I have to buy the last round, it's a quarter till, make up your mind." "You'd really let me get into your pants just to win a bar bet?" Theo asked. "I know it sounds silly." She explained. "But this is sort of an initiation, if you know what I mean." She smiled her best come on smile, batted her eyes and whispered "please help me win" in his ear. Theo shuddered again and couldn't resist, "Ok, I'll do it." She took his hand and pulled him over to the table where her friends waited. "I told you he would get into my pants." She boasted. "Not so fast, it's almost midnight and you haven't won yet." One of her friends reminded her. She slid into the booth arched her back, pulled her skirt up and took off her panties. She handed them to Theo and instructed, "Quick, go in the men's room and put these on. Hurry or I'll lose. Theo hesitated but she hiked up her skirt and let him see her strawberry blond bush. "You won't be sorry." Theo looked at the clock, there were eight minutes left before midnight. He looked at her, her eyes pleaded with him. He went to the restroom. Her panties were hot pink bikini style. He went into a stall, took off his trousers and boxers and stepped into her panties. They were too small and his package was just barely contained. He pulled his trousers up, stuffed his boxers into a pocket and returned to her booth and sat down. There were two minutes to spare. She smiled a huge smile, took his hand and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank-you she whispered," and another chill went down his spine. "Not so fast." Her friend challenged, "We haven't seen for ourselves." She pushed him out of the booth. "Show them, quickly or I'll loose!" Theo looked at the clock; there was just half a minute to spare. He pulled down his zipper. "Show us more." The three said in unison. Her eyes pleaded. He looked at the clock, just ten seconds left. He unbuttoned his trousers and let them see his panty encased package. The girl closest to him reached up and stroked his throbbing member. "You win Ruthie dear, you definitely got this fine young thing into your pants." "What's your name?" His temptress asked. "Theo." He mumbled. "Sit down Theo and give me your shorts. My pussy is getting a draft and since you're wearing my panties it's only fair. By the way, I'm Ruthie." Theo handed Ruthie his boxers and slid into the booth. As he did the other three girls got up to leave. "Don't forget, Gail, you're on the hot seat next week," Ruthie challenged, "We're three for three and you don't want to screw up and have to eat pussy all night!" Theo could not believe his ears. "How long has this been going on?" He asked. "Just the last three weekends," Ruthie explained, "let me have a feel." She didn't wait for him to respond. She reached over and squeezed him firmly. "You feel nice, open your zipper." Theo looked around the bar and saw that no one was paying any attention to them. He slid his zipper down and Ruthie reached in and rubbed his tortured penis. She continued rubbing and put her head on his shoulder. "Let me see it." She whispered. He was hot and cold all at the same time. She was tearing down all his inhibitions. He wanted to please her. He unbuttoned his trousers and she freed his engorged cock. She kissed her fingers and caressed his aching cock; she felt the precum and brought her fingers to her lips. "I want more, let's go to my place." Theo didn't argue. As they left the bar she took his hand and said, "My place is just down the block." They walked wordlessly, down the block, up the steps to her front door. A light was on; she reached inside and turned it off. She took off her blouse and skirt, shoes and socks, and told Theo to strip. He hesitated. She took his hand and placed it on her boxer clad mound, leaned into him and seemed to rub her tits on his chest. "Strip for me." She whispered in his ear. She was driving him nuts with desire, he could not resist and against his better judgment he began to remove his clothes. Ruthie smiled as he stripped. She had only removed her skirt and blouse but he was willing to get naked for her and he didn't even know her last name! In seconds he was standing naked on her porch. She made a small bundle of their cloths, took his cock in her hand and led him into the darkened house. Theo couldn't see a thing but with Ruthie leading the way, squeezing his cock he didn't need to see. He felt like he might cum before they could get it on. She stopped, turned and pulled him to her. She kneaded his ass cheeks and ground her belly against his cock trapped between them. She put her arms around his neck and whispered, "Stay here while I get the lights." She left him standing naked, cock pointing across the room. His eyes slowly adjusted and he heard breathing, soft steady shallow breathing. Ruthie slowly raised the light level in the room and Theo found himself standing in a room full of women. He was too stunned to move but not too stunned to be embarrassed. His cock wilted. Ruthie returned and wrapped her arms around his neck. Once again she whispered, "If you keep playing my game every woman here will kiss your cock." She took Theo by the hand and led him around the room. "Ladies, I give you our guest of honor." On the second circuit she led him to three older women seated on a couch. "Ladies, as founding members you have the honor of inspecting our guest first." As Ruthie spoke she gestured as if to usher Theo forward and as if he had been trained he moved closer placed his hands behind his back and let the ladies handle his package. Ruthie smiled; this one will do anything I say she thought. For the next hour Theo entertained the ladies, some like the founders were in their sixties, others were in their middle years like his mother, still more were in their twenties or thirties and a few, like Ruthie were just eighteen or nineteen. All of them seemed to like his cock and balls. They stroked. They squeezed. They kneaded his ass. A few played with his anus but none of them tried to enter him. True to her word they all kissed his cock as if to say goodbye when they were done with him and some of them even gave him some very nice sucking action but none of them would let him cum. Theo didn't know why but he felt liberated. The women accepted him without any pretence. They didn't care about his apartment or car or brand of clothes. Just Theo. They stroked his arms and legs. They lightly dragged their nails up and down his back. They were especially interested in his cock and balls. Each, in turn, held his balls and rubbed them or pulled them or squeezed them. They stroked his cock and if precum appeared they vied for a taste. Some wanted a picture as a memento. They took turns holding his cock, kissing his cock, even sucking his cock as one of the ladies recorded the evening on film. He lost all sense of embarrassment as their questions became more and more personal. They were interested in his sex life. They asked about his girl friends and finally one asked him if he masturbated. Theo had no reason to lie. "Yes." He replied. The women started to gather around as another asked, "How often?" "Every day I don't have sex with my girl friend." He stated bluntly. "Have you done it yet today?" Another asked. "Will you do it later?" Someone chimed in. "Maybe." Theo admitted. "Why don't you do it for us now?" Ruthie asked as she took his hand and led him to a large sturdy coffee table that had been moved to the middle of the room. The women formed a semi-circle as he stepped onto the table. "Would you like some baby oil, we don't want you to get any blisters." She squirted the oil on his outstretched hand and smiled as she looked directly into his eyes. Theo looked at her; he saw a gleam in her eyes he had never seen before. Slowly he began to stroke his cock for them. Two of them removed their blouses and bras and stepped to the front giving him a beautiful target to aim for. He looked around the quiet room. All eyes were on him as he slowly beat off for them. Ruthie stood at the rear with one hand rubbing a tit and the other in his boxers. She saw him looking at her and pulled her hand out to blow him a kiss. Theo came. The first shot missed his targets tits and landed in her hair instead. The ladies exploded with applause and encouragement. The second shot landed squarely on an exposed breast but was just as quickly lapped up by the lady next to her. Before he could move two more women stepped forward and competed to see which could lick up the most cum. They pushed his hand away and a third grabbed it and cleaned the sticky mess from his hand. The rest of the ladies went back to their drinks and conversation. Ruthie stepped in and helped him off the table. "You were great!" She congratulated him. "What would you like to drink?" "What do you have?" He asked as she led him to the bar. "Mostly beer and wine," she answered, "but we do have a bottle of JD if you prefer the hard stuff. "I think a beer will do." He allowed. "You've earned it." She said as she reached into a cooler and handed him an ice cold Sam Adams. "What do you think of our club?" * So the question is: What do you think? Are you interested in CFNM? Have you participated; in what capacity? Would you like to? Your comments and suggestions are welcome. Theo Pt. 02 This is the continuation of the telling of Theo's story. Many thanks to all who have enjoyed my first attempt at erotica. ~~ Yesterday I saw a lawn strewn with fallen yellow leaves which had landed folded upwards with their stems pressing against the ground - at first glance, it appeared as if a cluster of butterflies had been blown to rest on the neighbor's grass by a passing wind. I thought you might want to know. Ch. 12: Awoken I did bump into Sai after bursting out of the apartment in a fit of ecstatic joy, but I'd like to recount to you, for a moment, the events which occurred before I was afforded the opportunity of making a fool of myself before one of my more guarded friends, because I think it's important for you to know how exactly the night ended - that, whatever came next, there was a period of time, a brief, wondrous period of time, where amidst the chaos I'd wrought, peace found me, wretched and lost, and unfurled itself over my body. I woke up absolutely drenched. Considering I'd hitherto believed I had died, it was very entertaining to me, looking back, that my first thought upon regaining consciousness in the real world (no more of this dreamscape/ inside-a-person's-being bullshit) was to find Mike and demand if he'd splashed water over me while I slept. It would definitely be something Mike would do and think to be hilarious. His pranks are good, but consistently cross the line ever so slightly. That, or it simply isn't as amusing when they happen to me and I then smell like guacamole for a week and a half. I'm sure I would have laughed my ass off if Luka had been the one to have a literal vat of the stuff dumped over him, but it had been onto me. So maybe I'm still bitter about it. After my initial confusion subsided and I realized I had just been sweating profusely as I slept, I looked around, groggy and suddenly aware of a mild headache, trying to make sense of my surroundings, my memory at this point having not entirely returned to me. Why did I crash on this sofa? I was going to walk home after the party. Right, and then I met Stella, and then - Oh. I turned, knowing intuitively that she was still there, and I was very happy to see her asleep peacefully. She occasionally snored and for some reason, this very human, very unladylike action was the best thing I could have woken up to. Something about the ridiculous contradictions inherent in the act, how beautiful she looked there, and how silly it was that she was snoring without pants - Oh, shit, and I had no pants on either...And I'd slept out here alone with her... Fuck. This was going to be a hell of a story. Sai probably wouldn't say a thing, but I wasn't going to hear the end of it from Luka, or Mike, or, oh God...Mia. Fuck. Before I let my thoughts take me any farther, I came back an old motto my dad liked to tell me: "Once you get the tits, it's real easy to start thinking about work tomorrow, because you don't need to worry about getting the tits any more. Listen up, son: Once you get the tits, you enjoy those babies as much as you can, forget what other shit you got going on, because one day those tits will either wrinkle and sag, or up and leave you, and you'll be left thinkin', damn. I wish I had some titties to hold at night." A smart man - as I rested propped on one elbow, I followed his advice and admired Stella's curvacious form next to me. She was sleeping with both her hands under her head, laying on her side. Her blonde hair falling across her back covered much of the pale skin left exposed by her shirt, and also flowed over her face, partially concealing it. Idle strands fell across her generous cleavage and I leisurely began to count how many individual hairs lay over her breasts, stopping at around fifteen as I acknowledged the gesture for what it was: an excuse to stare at her large, perky tits. Pieces of the night were coming back to me - I remembered burying my face in her chest, but previously, had been made of starlight. Without knocking the fact that I dream-fucked the night sky, it was on a certain level very comforting to see regular boobs in front of me. I'd had a lot of inexplicable things happen to me in the last twelve hours that I'd basically had to stop questioning because of how hard they were to wrap my mind around. And something about a pair of big, lovely tits is really grounding. I was tempted to succumb to my inner child and grope them, but I was stopped by a few things, like, we were in a stranger's home and anyone could walk past at any moment, and the last time we'd touched in this physical world I'd... Wow. Holy fuck. I'd become a monster. I cleared my head - time enough to dwell on that later and figure out what happened. "Focus on the tits." My dad was wise in many ways but this saying of his did absolutely no justice to the beautiful curvature of Stella's butt, how the pale skin there looked so smooth and how grabbing it last night had revealed it to be pliable but firm. From where I laid I couldn't see her pussy but just thinking about it brought back a wave of sensory memory from the night before, I remembered her wrapping her legs around me as I came, pulling me deeper and deeper inside of her, refusing to let me go... I remembered how tight it had been in her dream. I remembered her writhing on my fingers on the sofa, before... I took a long look at her. I stood up from the couch and visually absorbed her body in its entirety, her beautiful face, her quiet, resting form, and I allowed myself to remember what I'd done to her. Choking her with my comically large cock, breaking down her will and forcing her to take me without any available mental resistance. Snapping her mouth open, breaking her jaw, to fit my dick inside... Oh my God. I looked at her face to see if her jaw was still broken. Part of me had assumed, or maybe just hoped that it had been fixed, that however horrible I'd been in this world I had redeemed myself in her eyes and we'd consummated my redemption in her dream. I hoped that maybe that had trickled down to her body, and that she had been left unscathed. I was wrong. Seeing her now from above it was clear that her cheek was swollen and bruised - the purple and black bloomed all around her cheeks and chin. And there was no way her jaw was supposed to hang lopsided like that. Fuck. I would have to take her to the hospital, they were going to ask a million questions I couldn't answer, she, well, shit, she could press charges. Fuck, I'd plead guilty to anything she accused me of. I'd probably go to jail. I wondered how I'd do in such an environment. I don't know if that was the thought that motivated me to find a better (read: less self-destructive) way to help her than calling an ambulance, but at that moment my anger toward myself, my infatuation with this beautiful girl who'd drunk Sapporo with me from behind the bar, and who'd found me passed out in the alley, and this general, insurmountable feeling of hopelessness all sort of coalesced into a sorrow unlike any I had previously felt. I was so used to, like many people, excusing my way out of situations where the blame fell on me. Of judging myself by my intentions and not my actions - of turning a blind eye to my own failures. But here, they'd been so catastrophic that I couldn't help but face them, and something about that flipped a switch in me, and awoke a memory I couldn't believe hadn't already occurred to me. I'd been given powers. Fucking crazy, phone-disconnecting, body entering, mind-altering, dick-changing powers. If I could give myself a predatory jungle snake for a cock, I could damn well fix a broken fucking jaw. Especially if I was the one who broke it. And if I couldn't, well, I don't know. That would be a very strange limitation and I'd be very annoyed at whoever gave me these new abilities. Wait, yeah, who even was responsible for this change in me? I never got any answers when I was unconscious in the alleyway. I knew literally nothing about the functioning of my new self. How was I even supposed to go about manifesting this power into action, much less curative action? I walked over to the part of the sofa near Stella's head and looked down at her, and an uncomfortable pang of shame hit me in the stomach. I swallowed it down - business time. Feel like a shithead later. How had I cut off the phone? I'd just been waking up, and I'd sort of just, willed it off. I'd visualized the connection and severed it and reality had gone along with my will. As I studied Stella's face, I was struck by how happy she looked. I don't know if it was the alcohol, we didn't even drink that much, but she didn't seem to be in any pain. I hoped that had something to do with what I'd done while inside her eyes, and then her dream. Or whatever had happened. I brought to mind the first time I'd seen her. How pretty she looked, how struck I had been by the contrast between her normal face and her ridiculously proportioned body. Holding the image at the front of my mind, I concentrated on her face and tried to imagine it looking like how it had before I'd hurt her. I clenched my teeth together, grunted as I strained, balled my hands into fists and tried to conflate the two images, but nothing changed. She did twitch briefly, though it was impossible to tell if this was because of me. I contemplated what to do, and as I did, my gaze roved over her cleavage, her legs, that big, beautiful ass. From up here her shirt had bunched such that I saw the darker beginnings of a nipple beneath her bra and my dick, regularly sized, I noted, began to stiffen, which was sort of the last thing I needed right now. Don't think about fucking her, don't think about fucking her... Like that was going to work. At this point I had a full on boner and had no idea what to do about her jaw. She looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake her, but I couldn't just leave without doing something, without helping fix what I'd broken. Then, a thought struck me. Perhaps I needed to guide my will with some sort of physical component? Like some sort of channel to direct the energy. And, before you say something, I know you're thinking I'm going to fuck her into fixing her jaw, and let me just say that's not what I did. Though it may or may not have been the first thing that came to mind... I looked at her bruised face, at her disjointed jawline, and with a hand brushed the hair from her face as I imagined it reverting to how it used to look. "Stella...I'm so sorry..." I was absolutely taken aback when a very soft, almost imperceptible glow emanated from my fingertips as I stroked her cheek, and the bruises rapidly began to fade. She yawned, and when she returned to her resting pose, still asleep, her jaw had set back in a normal, albeit drowsy position. The bruised coloring on her cheek faded back to its regular pale complexion. "Holy...," I whispered. I'd just fixed someone's broken face with my fingers. What the fuck had happened to me? I didn't know, and at that moment, I didn't care. I was elated beyond belief, a chorus of angels sang in my chest, because to the best of my knowledge, I'd fixed my mistake: I'd done the best I could do inside of her when I'd gone inside her eyes, which had hopefully done at least something to mitigate the psychological damage. Maybe even make her forget it happened? And, I'd fucking fixed her fucking face holy shit, holy shit, I was a goddamn wizard. I was a god! I had magical fucking powers and I'd just... You can imagine how overwhelming this was. I grew up on those young adult fantasy books, where the kid is in class, boring life, nobody likes him when suddenly, POW! He befriends a wizard and gets all sorts of cool powers. And now, it was actually happening to me. Admittedly I wasn't convinced I wasn't still in some new state of unreality, and the wizards were unknown and intimidating, but I was too tired of thinking to care. In my mind, I was free. And Stella was still gorgeous. I knelt down next to the sofa and lightly caressed her shoulder, I wanted to touch her everywhere, to shake her awake and to tell her "I did it! I fixed you, I made you better!". Or at least to tell somebody. I wanted to take credit, you know? But as I knelt there watching her sleeping form rise and fall to the cadence of her breath, I realized something at once both dreadful and very, very interesting. I wasn't going to be able to tell anyone but her about this. Who else would believe me, and keep the secret? And even then I could only talk to her about what had happened if she remembered the shit that had gone on inside her eyes and in her dream, and didn't dismiss them as the fabrications they quite possibly were. In that moment, I wasn't sure if I wanted her to remember. I knew keeping my new powers a secret was going to drive me crazy (no - I couldn't "just tell one close friend", though the thought occurred to me. That's way #1 to get locked up in the looney bin or studied under a microscope and don't let anyone tell you different) but I also knew that if Stella was to be my only confidant, our relationship had started off... contentiously? With me being the absolute embodiment of the human capacity for horrible acts? Fuck. I needed her to wake up. We needed to talk. Or should I wait? I was so undecided about basically everything at this point, and perhaps that was what ultimately motivated me to hold off on approaching her. She shivered suddenly, and, though I was still kneeling and her back faced me, I knew that her visage had contorted into a frown. I don't know how I knew, but it was abundantly clear to me that negativity had invaded her sleeping consciousness and that she was now worried. Anxious. I thought back to when I'd jumped in her eyes, and how that had led to finding myself in her dream. I wondered if there was any sort of halfway point, where I could see how her mind was doing without actually jumping in there and having her entire consciousness tell me to kill myself. I decided to try an experiment. I know, I know - sort of sketchy to, having just absolved myself (to whatever extent you will let me) of the sins I'd committed against her, use her as a test subject. What can I say? I felt that things had been so wrong, so fucked up and intense last night that this sort of mild poking around didn't even raise a blip on the moral radar. This is a phenomenon common to humanity - when your scope of understanding of something (how fucked up you can act towards another person, for example) broadens extensively, the little things which used to matter so much seem so petty. So inconsequential. My experiment went as follows: did I need to touch her (or speak to her, I thought, remembering the awful voice that had come out of me the night before) to be able to achieve some sort of change in her mind, or could I simply hover my hand over her? My theory was that I had only needed actual contact because the change had been big: healing a broken jaw. Shit, I actually may have not even repaired her face properly. I didn't know the smallest thing about facial reconstructive surgery, but had just put faith in the power. I'd find out what happened soon enough, I expected. I hadn't needed to touch my phone to disconnect the call. That had been as simple as thinking the call was detrimental to me, and with minor effort, the connection had been severed: this power clearly operated on a vast spectrum of interaction. I stood up and leaned over her, again, struck by how pale and beautiful she was. It's one thing for me to say "yeah bro she's got big tits, a nice face and an ass that could compel Genghis Khan to call his armies off for tea" but quite another for you to understand the way in which all of those things worked in conjunction. Your Stella will never be mine, and, honestly, I'm glad. You probably don't deserve to know how beautiful she is - I certainly don't. Her face, even scrunched up in a frown, with beads of sweat appearing on her forehead, had about it a certain wholesomeness. Seeing her in any degree of pain was unbearable, not the least because it evoked in me flashbacks of when I had been the agent of such feeling. I hovered my hand above her head, and directed my consciousness to hers. The effect was instantaneous and startling - I jumped back and lost the connection. Shit - I'd felt her dream! Just a glimpse - and even then it was a muddy one, like putting a bed-sized hand on top of two people fucking under a blanket and trying to guess what exactly was going on. Yeah, you'd know they were fucking, but a lot of the details would be lost on you. I focused, and projected my will back to her dream. I paid more attention to the process of arriving there and saw that sinking into her dream was an interaction of potentially infinite layers: I could hover on the very surface and only see and feel the most extreme of reactions going on, but I knew that I could also dive deep down and join her wherever she was. Or deeper. Damn - that was interesting. What lies deeper than a dream? Something to explore later. I went a little farther down, whether or not my eyes were open I don't know but I was seeing neither what was in front of me nor the back of my eyelids. I saw represented in front of me a muddy visual interpretation of what was going on inside her mind - emotions and a vague tracking of events appeared in a complicated colorless picture I couldn't replicate but understood perfectly in the moment. Like white static that made sense. A language of sorts. And what that language communicated to me was both troubling and wonderful. She was afraid, and it was because she couldn't find me. My fucking heart broke. She was looking for me in her dream, scared that I'd left her for good, that I'd died in the sky. She'd descended from the stars and explored the fields for me, set up a hundred picnics waiting for me to show up and was becoming more and more worried that I would never do so again. I didn't deserve another person feeling about me in this way. And nor did she deserve to have misplaced her emotions in so catastrophically unworthy a person. So, feeling the weight of these injustices, without really knowing how, I relieved her of the anxiety that plagued her. Despite my apparent penchant for venturing into dreams, to mitigate her anguish, I didn't project my consciousness into her dream, no, I'd had quite enough of being out of my own body. I didn't really know how I knew what to do, although looking back it is clear to me that most of the discoveries about my powers occurred without thinking. I sent little waves of "me-ness" into her dream. I don't know how else to describe it. Little packets of feeling which pointed back to my own existence, eau de Theo, if you will, flowed from my mind into hers with my hand as a channel, and though I didn't see how exactly she reacted in her dream, the setting she was in changed drastically and her mood softened. Thank God. I felt her embrace the waves and after a few moments, I couldn't tell you how long, she had relaxed completely. I came out of this mode of scanning her dreams to find a sweet, sweet smile on her face, and I melted inside. Then, noticing movement lower on her body I gazed where I'd seen it out of the corner of my eye and saw that she had slipped a hand between her legs. Interesting... I put my hand over her head again but much farther back - a few feet up instead of 6 or so inches. I couldn't detect her dream hardly at all but, and this was perhaps just because I had already connected with her, I could still feel the impressions about it. Feeling me had made her horny. I peered over her to get a better look at what she was doing with her hand: not exactly fingering herself, no, but she had the side of it pressed up against her pussy and was moving her hips along the edge. The muscles and tendons in her arm were tense with the pressure she exerted on her lower lips and I heard sleepy little moans come out of her mouth. They sounded frustrated, and it turned me on to no end. Theo Pt. 02 So, yeah, I jacked off, okay? Sue me. I was committed to not waking her up, but I would have had to have been the most asexual man on earth to walk away from this sight without cumming. It was just absolutely breathtaking, knowing that this being, this pale, sensuous form was pleasuring itself because I'd offered to it the feeling that I was there. Her moans barely escaping her lips, the sweat still across her brow, she seemed to suck in the heat from the room, to take in all of the light. I couldn't look away. A better man would have by now long since remembered the implications of being in a stranger's house, jacking off over someone's sleeping half naked body, but it wasn't until a minute of me stroking myself and thoroughly enjoying the sight of her rubbing her sex more and more urgently that I remembered I was actually in the real world. This would probably have meant more to me, but the instant after I'd realized this what also came to mind was the moment, last night, when I'd promised Stella in that deep, layered, terrifying voice that nobody would hear or see us. I idly reflected, as I jerked off, that it was entirely possible, if not downright likely, that nobody had walked past and noticed our huddled forms and that that same barrier was probably still in place. Probably. It was a risk, but either I was too horny or too confident in my amateurish pseudo-explanation of the effects of my power to care, probably both, and I increased the speed of my strokes. As I did, she also began bucking her hips on her hand faster, and I thought I saw her change the position of her hand so a wider surface area was covering her pussy. I realized, in that moment of mutual masturbation, that so focused was I on her slumbering sexual enjoyment that, completely fixated, I'd again forged some sort of link between us. It was from a different angle than before. Whereas before my consciousness had been descending into different degrees of awareness of her own consciousness, here, it was as if the sexual desire that was overtaking me was emanating from me subconsciously and affecting her. This made my cock grow even harder, knowing that to some extent, what I did, she felt. I later realized that, in a very loose sense of the word, we had been essentially fucking each other. I was losing myself to the pleasure, not just of jacking off but of seeing her writhing on the bed slightly, and of hearing her moans increase in volume and frequency until they formed a continuous mumbled "Ohhhhhhhh, Theooooooooooo, Yesss...Yesss...Yessss, Fuuuuck" and I knew she was going to cum. Suddenly, several things occurred to me in an incredibly fast period of time: I was going to cum too, she would most likely wake up from her orgasm, and, most importantly, I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to fuck her more than anything - the feeling was so overwhelming, so pervasive within every one of my thoughts and in every cell of my body to the point that I could have sworn I'd just stumbled across the singular purpose for my existence. I don't know if it was the sexual connection we'd forged by our simultaneous masturbation, or if I was becoming more familiar with her, or maybe I just really fucking wanted this to happen, but as we both approached our synchronized climax, the urge to fuck her completely overcame almost all my inhibitions. No, I didn't walk up and shove my dick into her. I'm not that horrible of a person, I think. Instead, I launched myself full-speed into her dream, but, and this was deliberate (give me some credit here - these are fast decisions I had to make) I left enough of my being behind, one or two percent maybe, to prevent me from falling down and hitting my head on something. It was a split second decision that happened more reflexively than anything because, in that moment, I was entirely focused on the imminence of feeling her orgasm around my cock. I know I'd just said how sick I was of jumping between modes of consciousness. I know. So goes the life of any man who feels sexual desire - his most prized values and goals may crumble before his eyes in the name of a quick ejaculation. I was different though. I had motherfucking powers, and I was just beginning to learn how to use them. I wouldn't fuck a sleeping beauty but my god would I get in her head. Ch. 13: The Eagle, Inhaled I flew through the layers of her dream, past the muffled, hard to decipher noises and approximations until the world became more and more clear and sharp. As it all came into focus I realized that I was literally flying toward the ground from the sky, I passed through a cloud and saw that she was on a bed, in a clearing in the forest. Lying on her back, one hand clenching her breast tightly, pinching a nipple, she was gasping for air as her other hand rapidly slipped in and out of her pussy. Her moans lit up the entire glade, and, her high pitched cries piercing the air that rushed past me, I realized I wasn't going to make it in time. The entire world seemed to be on the brink of explosion, the trees, like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, were fluffing up and down, the ground beneath the mattress she laid upon rippled as if it were water, the air was hot and smelled strongly of her. Planetary mimicry of dream sex? No fucking way was I going to miss being a part of this. I sped myself up, folding my arms in to become as aerodynamic as possible - which, oddly enough, worked. The sheer logic of it was in stark contrast to the absolute insanity of the situation I was in as I dropped like a bullet. It may have been my powers or maybe it was the dream, but I felt so like a bird of prey, so like an eagle that my eyesight showed me her face far below, a face verging on the brink of release, her lips spread wide in an "O" I recognized and needed to kiss. I knew I only had one shot at this as I split the air (shit, I had clothes - with half a thought they flew off me) and fell. With a thunderous impact I crashed into the glade, mounted directly on top of her, my hands to either side of her head and my legs on the mattress spreading open her thighs. In a single, beautiful, magical instant: our eyes met - hers, shocked, adoring, mine probably on fire - the ground beneath us gave a tremendous heave, and I brought my rock hard cock to her pussy and pushed it all the way until her labia kissed my pubic bone. We came instantaneously. It was the most epic orgasm I had ever had. The sheer sensation of it, amplified by the dream, by the entire world encouraging our gyrating bodies in the throes of such passionate release, the ground beneath us shaking as we shook in each other., as her hips bucked and pressed into me and I thrusted spastically right back. Stella's eyes rolled in their sockets and my own eyes clenched as my entire body tensed, and as we were carried forth by our simultaneous orgasms it was as if two furious tsunamis had collided, and we lived that cathartic climax for a period of time that could have been an eternity for all I knew. Hot spurts of my cum jettisoned into her over, and over, and over again without ever seeming to decrease in intensity. Some of the tension in my body released and I managed to open my eyes to see her pinching and twisting her nipple with one hand while sucking and biting down on a finger from her other hand, I was still cumming so deep inside of her, and I was able to bring a hand around her head and pull it close to me, we locked eyes and with an expression of unadulterated euphoria she, between shakes, stuttered: "Oh-hhh-hhh Th-Thee-oooooohhh, Fuu-uuckkkkk, I-I'm St-Still C-Cummmingggg". I brought her head to mine while continuing to thrust hard into her pussy, her back angled in such a way that she would have needed to support herself, or to be a ballerina of some sort to achieve the position. But we were dreaming and these things were beneath us: I brought her lips to mine in a single, passionate kiss as I continued to come over and over inside of her, when she suddenly brought her legs around me and clutched me tightly in that familiar way that felt so good. I was thus robbed of my ability to thrust - she had taken it from me, and now made micro-thrusts of her own. Holy shit, this was amazing: I felt the tip of my dick caressed by her soft, wet walls in rapid, short circles caused by her undulating hips, the most surreal feeling, that neither of us could be said to have enough sanity or presence of mind to exist, that our bodies were joined maddeningly and existed only for each other. And then, as we kept our lips together, as my spurts of cum gradually decreased in velocity, she gradually sucked in, taking away my breath, refusing to let me go. At the same time that this happened my dick was absorbed further into her pussy, I'd thought I was balls deep, no, I'd known I was, but in this dream that didn't matter because she was taking me for everything I had. Her dream. Her rules. I was running out of oxygen. She was absorbing everything I had inside of me, breathing in all my air and I was powerless to stop her. My cock taken still deeper into her in smooth, wet pulses. I was beginning to see spots as I made eye contact with her and, then, all of a sudden, I saw the rage, the fury, the lust, the deep-set desire, the resentment. The ice. The fire. I understood. This was her final retribution. She was showing me what it was like to be turned into nothing, to be treated like nothing. She was sucking out the last molecules of air I had in my lungs, breathing me in so deeply, my vision was beginning to darken, and still her pussy milked my cock, encouraging it deeper, pushing against it, and she had a hand on my neck and leaned back, bringing me into her and suddenly, as I fell to her body, to those perfect tits, I realized I had almost completely disappeared. What she'd brought to lay on top of her was essentially weightless. I had almost entirely vanished. And then, an instant before my complete dissolution, our lips still locked, she breathed back into me. My lungs inflated with my being and sent it through its capillaries into the rest of my body which too swelled with life. My heart started beating faster than it ever has, my life force returned to me in a rush of vibrant tingling energy. My vision, previously almost reduced to empty darkness, returned in a Cambrian explosion of color, and the first, most beautiful color of all the brilliant ones I could see was the blue of Stella's eyes. It was as that galactic blue seemed to travel from the pools from which it shone and enveloped my entire vision that suddenly the spell was broken by her wild, untamed smile. "Now," she said between breaths, "we're even." The world had stopped shaking. It became progressively more ethereal, the bed we were on fading, the forest, the clearing, the sky from which I'd shot out, they all began to lose their distinct color and were reverting to a pure, exalting white which demanded observation. Stella and I both looked up, rising together, and, as wordlessly as before while walking back into the party from the alley, our hands met halfway. In this way, as my first night with powers finally came to an end around mid-morning, I walked into the rest of my life holding the hand of one who had shown me forgiveness in a way I had never before imagined possible, and the light was all-encompassing, and it touched her skin, and mine, and I felt myself slipping away but still she held tight. I don't know if she ever realized the extent to which she saved me. It kills me that I will never be able to tell her. Ch. 14: Awake I returned to consciousness feeling much like a horse who had gone to sleep standing up, except I don't know if horses are as proficient as I apparently was in masturbating while asleep. As Stella began to stir, I realized there was cum all over her body. Her shirt, her hair, her ass. The sofa too had received a generous portion of my seed and, while part of me wanted to immediately apologize, a bigger more humorous part got the better of the rest of me and I burst out laughing uncontrollably. Stella groaned in a way similar to me when I am greeted by a return to consciousness, and stretched her arms and legs in a strikingly sultry, languid fashion, rolling onto her stomach, giving me a perfect view of the size of her big, toned butt. She raised her head and looked at me laughing between squinted eyes. "Mmm...what are you laughing at...Shhh..." It was all just too much. Everything. The entire night. The good, the bad. It had started with me waking up to Mia giving me coffee and ended with Stella waking up covered in my cum. In between I'd had enough dream sex to last me a few years. And, my god, how ridiculous had it become? I plummeted out of the sky and landed on her? That's beyond stupid, some real Michael Bay dream sex right there. Stella still had no idea how much cum was on her as she propped herself up on her elbows and I saw her beautiful breasts decompress from being squished against the sofa, partly hanging, partly resting, hidden behind her bra and thin shirt. My god. She was just, she was just fucking filthy in the best sense of the word. She looked used, her hair a complete mess, her gray shirt stained. And, have I mentioned how much I came on her? A brief aside on hair: you are no doubt familiar with "sex hair", a phenomenon well deserving of its own title. It's an interesting one to me, however, because of its distinction from the similar chaotic arrangements produced by various other forms of exercise. The distinction is justified: there is something so unquestionably sexual in the placement - a curl extending too far outward, bangs strewn across the forehead, volume in places where there wasn't before. These are all a part of the bigger picture, but what is not so much a singular physical characteristic but a unifying quality is the deep intimacy revealed in such a slightly off presentation, as if hair could blush, or cast itself in shadow. Stella captured this perfectly, so sleepy in her demeanor, so unaware of the mess on her head: an open secret, and one I enjoyed immensely. "What's so funny, Theo?" "I just, you're...I'm sorry," I managed between laughs, doubled over with my hands on my knees, "you're just absolutely covered in cum. It's fucking everywhere." At this, she looked around at the couch, at her body, and then at me, and I saw her awareness of the sensation of it all over her revealed in her eyes. It was a beautiful look, a mixture of horror, sheepishness, and sheer amazement. "Was this..was this all you? Just now? Wait," she began to look more mortified and indignant than amused, "did you cum on me while I slept? What the fuck?" Uh oh. I had no idea how to play this. "Uh, well, I mean, technically..." "Technically you came all over me? What do you mean technically? Either you did or you didn't. What - are you some kind of pervert or something?" "Wait, Stella, I'm sorry about that, really, but, do you not remember, you know..." I made vague hand gestures in the air. "The night? With the, the, I fell from above? Or, earlier, you were the sky?" This had the potential to be incredibly awkward. "The picnic?" I tossed out, smiling weakly. Thankfully, she laughed and gave me a wolfish grin. "I'm just teasing you. I do. I remember." After uttering those words, her laugh faded, and she looked at me pensively. My own smile and stutters stopped as well. There wasn't much for me to do - she remembered, I remembered. I'd been a horrible person. I'd hurt her. I'd tried to make it up to her. We'd sort of met halfway in our dreams and worked things out. Really though, the ball was in her court. "Theo. You, I mean, did you..." "Yeah." I could guess what she was saying. And even if I was wrong about her particular guess, odds are, I'd probably done what she was asking me anyway. "Okay. Okay. Well. Hrm." She looked around at herself, then at her surroundings. "Wait, shit, Theo, we're still at Declan's house. Oh fuck, everybody saw I'm sure, what were we thinking-" then with a start her eyebrows shot up and a faraway look appeared on her face. I stood there, pantsless and ashamed. She was going through the list of everything that had happened. She turned to look at me thoughtfully. "You told me nobody would see or hear us," she said, her voice hoarse. It was not a question. I nodded. "Were you telling the truth?" "Stella...As far as I know, I wasn't really me in that moment." She raised an eyebrow but before she could speak I continued: "And that's not to, you know, not take responsibility for, well, you know. But, I'm pretty sure that nobody saw us. Pretty sure." She tossed her head back and laughed a sardonic laugh reminiscent of Mia. An intrusive thought idly wondered what Mia would think of Stella, but I didn't pursue that line of thought right now. "You're pretty sure. That's it." Wait a second, I could check! I could totally check to see if I'd effected something about the area we'd slept in. I made a mental survey of the alcove, delineated by the curtain and the wall next to the sofa, and discovered a definite presence of some sort of repellent energy. Investigating its nature, it was pretty clearly designed to subtly stop anyone from even considering approaching the alcove, and made all sound emanating from it not register to anyone who heard it but those who were already inside. "Actually, no. I'm positive. Nobody knows we're here. Or heard anything. So, yeah. Don't ask me how I know that." "Theo, the amount of shit that has happened...I'm very clearly not asking you a lot of things right now." "Yeah. Thanks, I think. I don't know how many answers I'd have anyways." She brought her hand to her face but right before doing so she stopped and checked to ensure there was no cum on it. Shaking her head, she sighed and rolled her neck, looking up at me. "Theo, I need to think. I need time. Probably a lot of it." "Me too." She sighed, standing up, and walked over to me. Most of the cum was on her back, out of sight, but just knowing that it was there added another degree of sexuality to what was already the most sultry, sexy approach I'd seen. She took off her shirt as she went and tossed it on the floor, shaking out her hair, then looked at me with an air of total confidence. However, I saw in her eyes, that underneath the steel was a fragile psyche projecting solidity for the sake of its own existence. I desperately wanted to make her feel safe but I wasn't sure what to do, or if that was even my place. An inch in front of me. Her head at my chest level, looking up into my eyes. Her hands by her side. She was searching me for something, and I stood there, still, examined, the perpetrator, the aggressor, the freak. The man who deserved none of the redemption he'd been offered. "But, I mean, I remember it all, I think." She sounded as if she was trying on the words she said, like shoes in a shoe store. Finding which pair fit right. "And, well, you're an absolute asshole-" "Yeah." "Let me finish. You're a jerk, there is a part of you that is unquestionably terrible and filled with nothing but hate. But fuck, Theo, you fucking tried, didn't you?" She looked up at me with tears brimming in her eyes. I didn't have to scan her thoughts to know she wanted to hold me, to be held, to kiss the man who'd joined with her in the stars. I knew what she was asking. She wasn't asking if I'd tried to redeem myself - she knew for a fact that I had: she'd felt me die over and over to put her back together when I'd transported myself into her eyes. She was asking if I thought I was worth it. If I thought my light was greater than the shadow it cast. She was asking about my future. I'm not trying to sound angsty and dramatic here - there was literally a power in me that had overtaken my will and then hurt her. I had no knowledge of how to control it. I wanted to protect her, to leave so I could never harm her again. And yet, she could be the only person I would be able to talk to about what happened to me, not to mention the fact that she was stunning and I felt oddly connected to her for having only known her since last night. Theo Pt. 02 Could I justify asking her to stay? And right there, I came to a decision. Sometimes these sorts of things feel momentous in the moment they happen. That a Course of Events has been Set into Motion, that From This Day Forth, and so on. I felt none of that. It was a massive anti-climax: I just knew. "Yeah." She practically knocked me over with her embrace. She wrapped herself around me, burying her head into my chest. I brought my arms around her and kept her close to me, clutching her tightly, and in that moment, where my arms and hands became coated with cum that had soaked through her shirt onto her skin, where my shirt was stained with tears, I knew I could figure out the powers that had been granted to me, and ensure that I didn't hurt anyone else again. These moments, the comfort, providing the place of solace, the complete absence of all things contrived. The sheer honesty of pouring into each other, of having lived through trauma together, of having explored new and wonderful facets of sexuality, of exploring each others dreams. This was what I would hold in mind as I lived. This was the standard I would hold myself to, and I would never falter. I was so naive back then. I was so incredibly stupid. "Theo?" she murmured in between suppressed sobs. "Mm?" "You, you can..do things. With your mind. You can alter the world, you can change people." I was silent. "Do you think you could get us into a shower without anyone noticing?" A small giggle broke through her crying, and she pulled back from me a little to wipe her eyes. "I look like a wreck and your jizz is all over me." I laughed, relieved, feeling some of the tension dissipate, and kissed her. After such extensive adventures in the realm of dreams, it was very strange to kiss in real life. None of the exaggerated emotions, none of the amplified sexuality or the fuzziness. Just a kiss. Just a sweet, wonderful kiss. "I think I could manage that." And so with the aid of some perceptive filters around us we walked out of the alcove past several guests who took no notice of us, including Declan and Luka who were in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone else who had stayed. The bathroom was locked and I wasn't sure if there was another one, so we waited outside. Stella was blushing. "You're sure they can't see us?" She pointed to the people lounging on the untainted sofas in the living rooms. Oh - shit, I'd definitely gotten cum all over the couch we'd slept on. In another experiment, I sent my awareness over to the sofa on which we'd slept and directed my cum to sink deep into the cushions where it wouldn't be seen or stain. I supposed it might smell but didn't think too much about it. The manipulation was surprisingly easy - perhaps because the subject originated from me? Something to consider. "I think they would have said something by now, my dear," I said soothingly. She nodded. "True enough." We waited some more. "You couldn't like, unlock the door and just shove whoever is in there out, could you?" I shrugged. "Maybe. Honestly, I probably could. I'll explain more later, but, I'm under a day into this shit. I could try but honestly..." the weight of the night pressed down on me. I was tired. "I'd just like to be normal for a second." She smiled sympathetically and hugged me tightly, nuzzling my arm. We stayed there a moment, with my eyes closed, I let her comfort me. I don't know the extent to which she understood what had happened between us, but was very glad that whatever mixture of her own lack of understanding and empathy was allowing her to reassure me. She kissed my shoulder. "Just us two normal kids, hanging out without pants in the corner by the bathroom over here, being invisibly normal..." And she had a sense of humor too. Great. The door opened and a man walked out without appearing to notice us. I remarked to Stella as he left that he hadn't washed his hands. "Wow, can you just sense that about people? Can you, like, sense their cleanliness?" She mock-gasped. "You're never allowed in my room." "Well, yeah, if I wanted to, probably, although in this particular instance I just didn't hear a faucet run." She rolled her eyes and punched me in the shoulder lightly, then took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. Ch.15: The Fluidity of Running Water, The Humidity of Steam The bathroom was huge - probably three or so times bigger than mine. A vast mirror faced opposite the entrance, spanning almost the entirety of the wall. "Wow, somebody likes to look at themselves," she said. "Can't blame them. Some people just need to be appreciated for how beautiful they are," I replied, staring at her pointedly. "Oh, stop it. Come on, as much as I enjoy feeling your jizz congeal on my back..." I made a disgusted face. "Yuck. For the record, I'm sorry about cumming all over you while you slept." I could barely keep a straight face, and when she stared at me, obviously not believing me, I started to crack up. "Okay, fine, it's fucking hilarious and I don't regret a thing." "Ha. Ha. Ha," she said sarcastically. "One day, Theo, I'm going to get you back." "Oh no, I'm so scared, Stella's going to jizz all over me with her huge cock." She walked past the bathtub and opened the glass door into the shower stall, taking off her bra and tossing it to the floor, and oh my God her breasts were enormous. It was the first time I'd seen them bare in real life, I realized. I wasn't disappointed. Shapely, surely supported by some sort of invisible string as they stood perky on her chest. After fiddling with the temperature she eventually was satisfied as the huge shower fixture blanketed her skin with hot water. I was content to watch her soap herself for a while. She was sexing it up, too. Bending over, exposing her ass to me, spreading her legs revealing her pussy and lightly playing with it before turning around and pushing her tits together, causing water to collect and splash on them as she pursed her lips together. My dick hardened and I lost all thoughts of everything else but her. She began to disappear behind the steam from the shower condensing on the glass, and I, growing incredibly jealous of the soapy suds which adorned her body, began to formulate a plan. I took off my shirt and walked over to the bathtub, turning on only the hot water. She looked at me quizzically as I approached the shower stall and entered with her. The shower stall was a turquoise tile and there were a couple metal bars to hold onto. "Why the bath? We're already taking a shower," said Stella as she turned to the wall to scan the available shower products on the hanging shelf. I could smell the fresh coconut-citrus of her skin. Her wet hair was pulled back and then draped over her shoulder. I have never before seen water mix so agreeably with a woman before - there was a sensuous fluidity to her revealed in the myriad water droplets affixed to her pale surface that invited one to dive in and feel the contours and bends of her skin. I stood at the shower entrance, and saw her select a pomegranate shampoo and then lather it into her hair. She glanced at me again but I made no move to walk into the stream of the water. I just rested against the glass door and enjoyed the view as the lather in her hair was cast down into the drain. As she turned back to the selection of products, the sight of her magnificent ass begging for attention raised my already somewhat erect cock to full length, and I started jerking it slowly. Without turning, she asked: "Theo? The bath?" "Because, Stella," I slowly approached her, feeling the hot water pour over me, and rested my rock hard cock on top of her butt, grabbing her hips tightly. "You're going to need a long, relaxing soak after I fuck you." She froze, then began to turn around, and though I held her body firm, her head craned toward me and she wrapped an arm around my neck as she contorted herself, rather flexibly, and drew me in for a kiss, swirling our tongues together. I drew my hips back a little and as she continued to kiss me I put my flattened hand against her pussy and rubbed it in long, slow circles. "Ohh...Mmm, yeah..That feels nice.." Her hips pressed into me in a series of rythmic undulations, matching the tempo of the circles I massaged into her wet pussy. Her lips were so smooth and delicate, I felt like I could toy with her forever. But I knew what I wanted to do was far more than this. As I caressed her pussy in this way, I, having some idea of what I wanted to do but mostly going on a whim, honed my attention in on the circular motions I was making, and captured their essence with my mind. Holding that feeling of long, slow, gentle but firm pressure in a circular orbit clear in my mind, I brought my other hand to her large, soft breasts, letting my fingers graze across her pelvis and her stomach as they made the journey up her torso. She kissed me with renewed energy, shuddering mildly at the delicate touch. Then, without thinking too much about it and letting my feeling of her body and of the motions I'd examined guide me, I fondled her tits. As I did so, I worked into them the same sensation of the circular massage that I was keeping up against her pussy, and with a brief concentration of my will, cemented that feeling on her chest such that as I withdrew my hand from her breasts, she still felt as if they were being caressed. The tricky part was to not leave a monotonous sensation on her: applying this feeling to her tits was nice but if it was the same pattern at the same speed and with the identical firmness, she would grow tired of its repetitive nature. I'd had to examine the motion I'd captured in my mind, and understood its framework. It's hard to explain. Think of it in terms of a mild telekenesis, where I created a series of kinetic pressures with my hand on her pussy, captured it with all its sexual connotations and nuances, and then gave it a degree of autonomy (derived from my own - the feeling of hands on her tits would feel like my hands and would improvise as I would) and let it roam over her both of her breasts at the same time. Something clicked in her mind, and she broke away the kiss to look at me with a passionate, burning desire tinted with confusion. "Theo...there are three hands massaging me right now...Mmm..." "Mhmm.." I slipped a finger into her pussy but continued the circular motions, teasing the first inch of her canal with small gyrations as I kept up the circles on her labia and clit. I caressed the contour of her body with my free hand, starting at her shoulder and following her ribcage, her stomach, and ending with my hand on her hip. "This...Is Am-Amazing, Theo... Ohhh, please, I want to feel you inside of me," she said around moans of pleasure and satisfaction. "Stella, I want you to know how badly I want you right now. How every moment that I'm not thrusting inside of you is an eternity of sexual frustration." "Oh..Theo..." She pressed her butt into my hand further, but I slipped my finger out and she gave a frustrated whine. "Theo, stop teasing, just fuck-oh!"I'd slapped her ass, not terribly hard but with enough force to startle her. She turned around and I drank up the desire in her eyes. "Stella," I said, moving my pelvis to her ass, and my dick grazed past beneath her pussy, "Spread your legs." She widened her stance accordingly and for good measure I gave the other cheek a slap, her ass was so big and round it was practically begging for it, and if you want to criticize me for saying that the form of another never begs violence, you have never looked at a person and needed more than anything to join your skins together. It was a smack born of a need to feel her and that I couldn't afford to wait the half second to be gentle. She gave a small cry of surprise, but she was enjoying the mild pain. It's actually a scientific fact, that for evolutionary reasons you can probably imagine, in states of intense sexual stimulation some degrees of pain are conflated with pleasure in the brain. Stella liked it a little rough. I checked in on her tits and they were still being felt up wonderfully - I was pleased to note the autonomy I had lent to the sensations had led them to pinch and twirl her nipples lightly, to her great pleasure. She moaned as I squeezed her butt with my hands. "Ohh, Theo. Fuck you're good. Fuck this is soooo goooddd-Ohhh!" I'd dropped soundlessly to my knees and buried my face between her ass. I smelled it all, so clean and still so musky, my nose resting against her pussy, flecked my tongue out in quick, darting strokes against her labia. "Oh shit, Theo, yeah, lick my pussy baby...mmmm.." I was happy to oblige her and with long licks from my tongue pressed flat against her, I worked her pussy into a passionate furor. If you've never had a girl push her pussy into you, onto your mouth, your hand, your dick, you are missing out on one of the most supremely wonderful feelings on this Earth. You feel so wanted, so gratified. I steadily worked my way past her outer lips and into the inner folds of her pussy with my tongue and once there, I pushed my tongue into a point and traveled down from the entrance to her sex to her clit and made slow, maddening circles there. "Theo, I'm going to cum, don't stop, don't stop, ohhh, yesss!!" Her ass almost swallowed me whole as her orgasm shook her entire body. Her legs quaked and to prevent her from slipping I wrapped my arms around her thighs, pushing my face harder into her pussy which she appreciated with a series of moans and gasps. While she still rode the wave of her orgasm, I captured the feeling I'd induced in her when I'd toyed my tongue around her clit, and then, as I stood up, kept it going, according it the same independence I'd given to the massage on her tits. So it was that as Stella crashed down from the ecstasy of her orgasm in the shower, I was playing with both of her tits and making circles around her clit when I grabbed her hips firmly and easily slid my cock all the way inside of her. As we made love for the first time in the real world, the rest of her body was aflame with stimulation - her entire body was being fucked by me. Holy fuck this felt good. Her pussy was so warm and still contracting from the orgasm she'd just had, so as I began to thrust into her it was as if her pussy was milking me at the same time as I plunged deeper and deeper inside of her. "Oh, fuck, Stella.." "Theo, my god...don't stop, don't stop..Deeper! Fuck me deeper!." She'd had her hands pressed on the wall before but now she moved them to the vertical metal bars for better support. I increased the fervor with which I thrust inside of her, my knuckles whitening around her hips. "Smack my ass Theo!" A sharp crack resounded in the bathroom as I brought my hand to her large, pale globe. She cried out and bucked her hips against me, and I felt my orgasm coming soon. I kept pouring myself into her harder and harder, smacking her ass again and again, crying out, "Oh Stella! Oh fuck!", matching her euphoric moans. Suddenly, as my intensity approached a climax, I had a moment of total lucidity. Our sex, the entirety of it, was laid bare before my mind. Her own feelings of stimulation: my tongue around her clit, my hands on her tits, pinching a nipple, my strong cock pounding into her. The aftershocks of her first orgasm, the approach of a second. Even the subconscious thoughts not surfacing, the memories of her last boyfriend fucking her in the shower in a similar position, a fleeting worry about the people outside hearing us. The different levels and degrees of her pleasure was made bare to me. As were my own. I saw how my desire for control was fulfilled when I slapped her ass. How my desire to be loved was satisfied when she pressed into me, and when she said my name with longing and lust. A degree of pride for putting her sexual satisfaction first. I won't go into my own repressed thoughts because I avoided looking at them churning below the surface of my ecstasy - you can guess most of them. And, not quite on a whim so much as following a feeling of unity which struck me as so absolutely correct as to be undeniably inevitable, I brought both of our individual sexual experiences together, in all the ways they were interacting and all the ways they were different. I took the pleasure in her mind and crushed it beneath my own, at the same time as the inverse happened and she smashed into mine. I think we both blacked out - I dimly remember feeling my orgasm not just blotting out all my other thoughts but also overcoming every aspect of my being - I breathed our sex, my heart beat to the tune of our unison, my blood coursed only to thrust into her. Our beings had melded together as they shook and continued to shake, our bodies convulsing together in a dance only we knew the steps to, wave after wave of pleasure flowed through us as we lost ourselves to ecstasy. I distantly felt the cum explode inside of her, and I heard her scream escalate until she couldn't make any more sound, and we shook on each other in this moment of colossal release until our mutual pleasure had exhausted itself and we crumbled to the shower floor in each others arms beneath the consistent stream of hot water. Breathing rapid, shallow breaths, I looked down to see her looking into my eyes with such a state of shock and awe that I'd never seen in anyone before. We were silent for a while, before she spoke up. "Theo, holy fuck," she whispered and shivered despite the hot steam, "what did you do?" I traced her jawline with a finger, and parted some of her wild hair out of her face. "I - I don't really know." "It was like, you just, the sex was great, it was amazing, you were touching me in so many places at once, I was just, in rapture..." She breathed out deeply and looked down at my deflating cock, taking it with her hand and playing around with it in an amusing, asexual manner before looking back up. "Then something, I don't know, it was like you were fucking my mind. But, not with your dick. With your mind." She giggled. "Is that weird?" "Well, objectively, I think this entire thing has been pretty fucking strange. We're long past weird now. But, yeah. I was about to cum and then, I just saw our sex together as these two separate parts, joined in many places but distinct from each other. And I just," I brought my hands together in a "kaboom" gesture, "brought them together. I don't know. It was pretty fucking amazing though." "Yeah. No kidding." We sat there allowing the hot water and the steam to decompress our bodies, and slowly we settled back into ourselves. I had so many questions, like, what were longer term psychological ramifications of smashing our two experiences of sexuality together? Was this a neurological function? Was I destroying both my brain and hers in the name of sex? Epic, mind-blowing sex, sure, but still. This entire time I'd been acting very impulsively, considering only the short term effects of my actions. And then, my Dad's voice came back into my head, and I grinned, and decided to enjoy the tits while I still had them. "Want to soak in the tub with me?" I asked. "Ugh - that sounds so nice. Let's just puddle together." She smiled up at me and we disentangled ourselves from each other and stood up. She did some stretches, I followed suit. She turned off the shower and I opened the stall door to realize I'd completely forgotten to turn off the bathtub. It looked like it had been overflowing for a long while and water was starting to seep under the door and go outside. "Oh, shit, Theo! Fuck!" Theo Pt. 02 "I know! I know! What do we do?" "Well we can't just fucking throw a towel on it, there's way too much water." She looked at me, worried. "You're the one with powers you dork, why are you asking me?" It was a fair point, though in my defense I was still very unaccustomed to having those powers. I considered the kinetic manipulations I'd enacted on her body and figured I could probably do something similar to the water. Following my gut, I dipped a hand in the overflowing tub, perhaps establishing a connection of sorts, and with the other I made a retracting motion with my hand, facing the water spreading out the door. My entire body tingled as I did this and I was astonished to see water rush back under the door, and for the water that was spreading on the floor to rush towards us, lapping around our ankles in small waves. Stella looked at me, wide eyed. "Holy shit," she whispered. "Holy shit." I confirmed. On a whim I clenched my hand that was in the tub and placed another on the surface of the water on the ground. With a smooth pivot, I moved my hands in an arc toward the shower drain and was left speechless as it all surged toward the door and crashed against it, splashing everywhere. Right, I couldn't just, phase matter through itself...probably. "Uh, Stella, mind opening the shower door?" She waded over there, the water having collected close enough to the door that it was about halfway to her knee, and spilling back into the rest of the room (these bath mats were probably going to stay soaked forever). She opened the door and I repeated the motion and all the water went inside the shower. "Close it, quick!" And just like that, though speckled with a million droplets, the flood was taken care of and began to spiral down the shower drain. As Stella turned to me with a mixed look of fear and surprise, I gestured to the steaming hot bath. "Ladies first." She came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes, and I knew she was scared. That she was impressed, and in awe, and a little turned on, but also completely terrified. "Theo, you just, you just fucking moved water with your mind." "I'm trying not to think about it too much." I replied, somewhat tense. She held my gaze, her eyes shimmering beneath the fluorescent lighting. "My dad liked to tell me to focus on the tits in front of me and deal with my issues later. So that's what I'm doing." I shrugged. "Honestly, I'm as scared as you are. This is as new to me as it is to you. And maybe I'm just a master at repressing shit, but there's plenty of time to worry and think later. Right now, I'm still completely smitten with you, and if you wouldn't mind, I'd love to rub your back in this hot tub, and just sit with you for a while before we leave. After this, I'm going to need a long, long time to figure out what's happened to me." "Right now though, you are the best thing that's happened to me of late, and I want to keep this as long as possible. If you want to leave, if you're scared, I understand. I will never keep you against your will, ever." I let out a deep breath. "So that's me." She said nothing for a while and we stood there looking at each other, her, pensively, whereas I, despite wanting to appear confident and comforting, probably just looked desperate. Then, she leaned her head back and rose to her tip-toes to give me a soft peck on the lips, and then put a leg into the bath. In a microsecond, in the instant before her foot touched the water, I realized it was going to be too hot for her and, somehow, the importance of making this pleasant for her conferred to me such a degree of power that I willed the entire tub (not a small one either - easily fitting two) to cool down. The excess heat I drew off converted into steam which diffused throughout the room, and the entire bathroom became humid and misty. She slipped into the water and sighed, choosing to ignore the spontaneous rise of steam. Her expression was content, and as she settled in she left a space behind her the surface of which she patted lightly with a hand. "I think a back massage sounds lovely." And so I entered the tub behind her, and we stayed there for a long while, to the point that it seemed that time no longer passed, that we had somehow stumbled upon a moment in which a breath spanned all of eternity and a kiss even longer, that the length of her shoulders was the measure of infinity and I could have spent twice that exploring its texture. We talked of many things in that tub, and did much as well, but I think I will keep these things to myself. Why? Because amidst the frigidity of this world I have been born into, some moments bring to my heart a warmth which I am unwilling to share with anyone, and I am not sorry. If you too have felt this feeling, however brief, this kind of shining, iridescent moment wherein recalling the slightest detail: half a smile, a face cast partly in shadow, the sound of trickling water, just a fleeting memory can give birth to butterflies in your stomach and leave the rest of your day feeling like you hold between your hands a hot mug of cider spiced with nostalgia and longing, if you too have felt this, I know you will forgive me. It is not something to be shared freely. If you do not know this feeling, do not feel excluded. Rest assured, I envy you. Reluctance to share these moments is a sentiment born mostly after the fact: out of necessity. A coping mechanism to deal with knowing that you won't be able to make any more like it - that it was a singular experience which ended almost as soon as it began, despite feeling, in the moment, that it was all encompassing and eternal. So forgive my reticence. In the steam of that bathroom was forged a bed of coals which I cling to dearly, and which has kept me from freezing over many, many times. More to come. -IPD Theo "Oh knock it off you two. Second graders... Good to see you, Theo." Luka is next to Mick and hugs me as Luka is wont to do. His motto: "Shaking hands is for strangers and business deals. I hug my friends." This would mean more if Luka didn't cease considering anyone a stranger the minute they entered within his visual periphery. The guy is the easiest to get along with out of all of us and, I suspect, out of the entire university we attend (Arbortown U. Fifteenth in the state racquetball championships. Thirty-seventh in academic standing in our state. Cheapest out of all of them, if you grew up here: tuition paid for any Arbortown natives.). He's textbook friendly guy: dark brown hair, super tan ethnically ambiguous skin ("god damnit I'm not fucking mexican guys...er, fuck, not that there's anything wrong with that, I'm just, you know...not."), a little shorter than me. Dresses nicer than me too because he comes from more money but never flaunts it too much. I suspect he's investing it all. After our hug he stands back and stretches, I smile at him, and nod to the last of our group, Sai. How to describe this man? I'd first ask you how you would describe a mountain. By its color? By its place in a broader scenic context? By the shape of its peak, or its height? How wide is its base? All of the above? No matter your choice, a listener will never truly get an accurate picture of the mountain -- a certain depth, to whatever degree, will always escape him. This applies to any description of a person, really, but without a doubt, Sai is the most like a natural force of the world than any other person -- more than anyone I've ever encountered, Sai resists description. Perhaps this is because I truly don't know him as well as I could. Our group only really coalesced a year ago (Mia and I, two months ago, when Mick hadn't been able to join us one night and everyone else had left. I mentioned something about her needing to leave soon, to give her the out, when she calmly put down her glass of wine, looked me in the face, and told me, verbatim, "I'm going to fuck you, Theo. Don't say another word until I've drained you of everything, and we'll talk about it tomorrow." I shut up pretty quickly.) We all hang out regularly enough but Sai has the hardest time integrating into the group because he can't speak. He isn't mute -- I've heard him talk on the phone a few times in a foreign language, but he hangs up the minute someone comes around. Over time we've been able to approximate a vague notion of a religious or cultural imposition that he not talk to us. He's Asian, shorter, jet black hair which I don't think I've ever seen at any other length than it was the first time I saw him: long ponytail in the back. You may wonder why it is we like him so much -- and we do -- or why he hangs out with us. I may one day get to the story of the first time I met him and brought him into our group, which at the time was me, Luka, and Mia (Mick was a sporadic addition at this time), but for now, content yourself with knowing that Sai speaks sign language, as do I, and that I translate him to the group. He occasionally will correct me, but usually I'm pretty spot on. I'm proud of my signing abilities: I had to learn when my sister went deaf. But that's again, another story. Sai signed hello to me and I back to him, then we all crowded into my car, an old Civic I'd acquired miraculously from a government sale for two hundred and thirty nine dollars, and headed to the party. The car drives well enough, but I haven't put any money into it in the two years I've had it so it runs a little poorly in some places. Turns are something I have to take slowly, which has led people into the mistaken assumption that I am a good driver. I don't correct them. Sai takes the front as he always does when we're all together because it's easier for him to talk to me this way. He has to hold his hands really far forward and to the left so I can "hear" him without taking my eyes too far off the road. Luka's making some jibes toward Mia and Mike because they're starting to make out. "Geez, Theo, you should really consider getting a limo. That way Starsky and Hutch over here can have a little more room for themselves." Through the rear view mirror I see Mike break away from Mia, they're not feeling each other up or anything, just kissing a little longer than would be technically appropriate (can you blame him though? Just being in the same car as Mia is enough to drive a man insane. I have to keep the fan on because otherwise I can smell her and then, as I learned the hard way, I end up getting out of the car with a boner I have to hide. Not a fun thing when it happens every time, so I had to adapt. Boner-killing fans: the extent of my technological ingenuity). He clears his throat. "Actually, Luka, Starsky and Hutch weren't lovers. They were just partners on the job." Luka rolls his eyes at this, but Mia interjects before anyone else can say a thing. "I dunno Mike, you don't think there weren't any underlying homoerotic feelings between those guys? I'd be gay for you if I was a guy for sure." She kisses his neck and probably gave his junk a surruptitious squeeze because Mick grins and says something inane about him not being gay but if he was boy-Mia would be his first choice. Blah blah blah I can't stand when this guy talks, so I switch the conversation from the relationship between Mike and the girl I was choking and pinning up against the wall before brutally fucking her mouth and having her walk out on me to something more pleasant, like the party we were going to. "So, who knows the host here? Luka, was it you?" "Na, man, it's one of Mike's friends. I've heard of him though, he's a nice guy. Recent graduate, working at some techie job. Sounds like he wants to relive the college days and he puts together these parties every so often to get it out of his system, that about right Mike?" "Yeah, more or less. Declan is a fine man, but isn't much of a host. I had to coach him on how to throw parties. Speaking of which, it starts in ten minutes, so if molasses-foot over here wants to maybe turn into maple syrup we could get there on time?" Perhaps you are beginning to understand why the thought that this man gets to bury his cock into Mia's pussy whenever they hang out infuriates me so. I certainly hope so, because I need to ask you for a favor. I need you to forgive me for what I ended up doing to him. Ch.3 -- Interlude -Really? Him? You want this fucker? He's, what, twenty-two? -Yes. -I mean, you know me, boss, I don't make the rules here. It's your TV know what I mean? But like, Theo doesn't have anything. No resources, no capital. Guy won't make much of a show. Hard to get far when you don't have much to start with. -There have been modifications made to the Source. -Modifications? You fuckin' kiddin' me? Source ain't been changed in, what, two millenia? -Two and a half. -Right, that's what I'm sayin'. Think they'll be happy with this? You know...upstairs? -Yes. -Alright, alright, well, you're the boss, boss. What sort of modifications? -His power has been uncapped. -Right.... very funny. Really though? What's the new deal? -I do not make jokes, Teffer. -You're serious. Uncapped. -Innovation is the key to success. We shall see in what ways his innovations take form. -You're fuckin' crazy, you know that? -No. -Fuck... Aw shit, I know that smile. You're really lookin' forward to this, huh? -I believe it will be of great amusement. -Alright, alright, well, I'll drop in the Beginning. -Good. -What do you think is going to happen? -... -Boss? -I think he is going to seriously fuck shit up. -...Wow. -Indeed. -Well, shit. Let's see. Beginning's been dropped, they should meet in roughly a human hour. -Would you mind grabbing me some popcorn? -Er, what? -It's a human expression. I believe it means to convey a substantial degree of excitement. -Boss, leave the human expressions to the humans. -Perhaps that is best. -Uncapped, though...He could, well, he could get to my level. Or even, shit, even up to you. Or higher. Shit, with what little we know 'bout the Source, he could kill us all. -That is unlikely. -Yeah, well, unlikely yeah, but... -But it is possible. -...Fuck. -Fuck indeed. Ch.4: Party pt. 1 As with most parties, I found this one to be a greatly undesirable thing when I first got there. It was way too crowded. The only good parties, in my opinion, are when there's enough breathing room and space to meet somebody and then draw them away from the whole thing and to connect with them one on one. Too much pressure otherwise, I feel like suffocating. When I first walked in, I knew I wasn't going to stay for long, which I signed to Sai. He never drinks but still enjoys himself, so, miraculously, we have a permanent dedicated driver. I handed my keys to him and let him know not to look too much for me when they left because I may have decided to walk home. He understood, and we parted ways. I have no clue what he does at these things, he seems to disappear until precisely when we start to want to leave, at which point he is the easiest person on Earth to find. Luka, Mia and Mike had all diffused into the crowd. Me? I was going to get hammered. It was an apartment much larger than my own but not large enough for the amount of people that were here. I slid my way through the throng, lubricating my passage with a series of apologies and excuse-me's and made my way to the makeshift bar that had been set up. I wasn't sure if it had been Mike's idea or if he had actually even made any recommendations to Declan in the first place, but whoever organized the bar was my favorite person in the moment, for several reasons. The first: it was fucking stocked. I don't even know how many types of beer and hard alcohol I saw, and not only that, but they were all listed on a well made aesthetically pleasing posterboard hanging on the wall behind the bar. You don't often get a list of the available booze at a function like this, much less the variety offered. I say bar, but it was just a table with a white tablecloth over it and a metric fuckton of liquor on top of that. The second: there was a person behind the bar whose job it was to actually bartend. If you've never been to a function like this, you don't know how shitty it is to have an unmanaged supply of alcohol. It disappears in an instant, people steal, or horde it, people knock shit over, it becomes a mess faster than you can get drunk enough not to care. A dedicated bar worker significantly mitigates the consequences of having alcohol, they could cut people off, for instance, and contributed noticeably to the classiness of the party. The best reason, though, was the fact that the barmaid was gorgeous. As I approached the table I'd been so distracted by the wide assortment of liquor that I hadn't noticed her (uncharacteristic of me, but perhaps more indicative of my desperate need to get shitfaced before the social claustrophobia set in). Settling on starting off with a nice Sapporo, I looked up to request it and the words in my brain turned into pudding -- I felt like that animated coyote whose tongue falls out of his mouth and rolls onto the ground, and I probably looked like it too. She hadn't seen me quite yet and was dealing with somebody on the far end of the table, so when I first saw her, it was from the side. She had long blonde hair in a ponytail but also with long bangs crossed diagonally over her face, and a simple gray v-neck which I couldn't immediately see down, though I sure planned to. Her bust though, from the side, was startling: forgive a momentary loss of eloquency I don't pretend to really ever obtain, but my fucking god those tits were huge. I'd only really ever seen DDs in porn before, at least I assumed that was what these were, and the bra she wore only served to render their form more perfect and delightful. Her t shirt was largely backless and I saw her black clasp in that gap, and, frankly, I believe I deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for not jumping across the liquor-laden table, unclasping it, ripping her shirt off and fucking her cleavage right then and there. Call me a pig, I deserve it, at that point I would have accepted being called anything to just have her turn ninety fucking degrees so I could see her face. But I only wanted that because I'd also had ample opportunity to admire the nicest bubble butt I have ever seen. I mean, please, can we all just take a moment to thank god for lycra? To all the women who wear yoga pants, as a horny college student, thank you. I'm glad dressing for your own comfort has the added benefit of showing off your asses. This blonde in front of me, she must work out extensively. Despite her ridiculously large breasts and ass, her shirt fell short of her pants and her navel was left seductively exposed. I was grateful that it wasn't pierced -- and that's just me- but what absolutely floored me was that she was skinny to boot. I had a brief moment of confusion: I thought photoshop was only something that worked on pictures and not real life? There was no way this person could be real. But when she turned to me, having handed a cheap plastic platter of four shots to the previous man, I saw that her face was very, very normal. And for some reason, that just did it for me. It put the bow on the whole thing, I desperately needed to inquire about the availability of this woman. In an age of constant smoothing over, of endless make-up, of forged personalities and forged appearances, here was a woman who had a great body and whose face was not that of a supermodel. No Mia, that's for certain, Mia who had everything tuned perfectly, whose face could stay any blade or bullet, Mia whose realness I would also doubt had I not kissed almost all of it. But there was something more real about this blonde, perhaps I was just deluding myself, because I hadn't even talked to her yet, this is about ten seconds we're talking about here, but I was very drawn to the fact that she had this "flaw" of having a face that didn't stand out too much. "Hi! What can I getcha?" And a cute, bubbly voice too. Nothing like Mia's sardonic voice. The very thought of answering "Hey, I'd love a Sapporo. So how did you end up here?" was as impossible as Mick waking up and not being a complete waste of oxygen. I coughed, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and must have looked as shy as the first time I asked out a girl, when I responded "The uh, big silver one looks nice. I think." She smiled a warm smile and pointed to the stack of Sapporo. "One of these guys? Nice choice. A favorite of mine, personally." "Oh, cool." "Here you go!" She cracked one open and poured it into a plastic red cup. Very college. Sapporo's are too big for one cup full though, and so when she handed me my red party cup she held the Sapporo in her other hand and raised it in a toast. I followed suit awkwardly, feeling rather stupid toasting with a red cup. Though I'd done it many times before, doing anything that signified anything less than confidence and sexuality right now seemed to me a failure of the utmost degree. "To beer, and to cute, awkward boys who don't know how to hit on the bartender." I had hurried and began to drink my beer after she finished the second word, and as she finished I was so startled that I coughed mid drink and got beer all over my shirt. To her credit, to her absolutely angellic credit, she laughed, downed her drink, crushed it in her hands (impressive -- those cans are sturdy) and tossed it in the recycling. She looked at me again and smiled, brushing her bangs out of her face. "I'm Stella, you dork." I looked down at my shirt, grateful that it was black. As I wiped off the residual beer from the shirt and from my arm I looked up at Stella and found only compassion, and a beauty reserved for beings with halos and wings. "I'm Theo, and you are far too kind to idiots like me." She seemed to like that, but a couple people had detached from the nameless crowd and come up to the bar, and she turned to them, but not before winking at me. I wasn't sure if she was just being business-flirty or if she actually was into me, and, leaning toward the former, I resolved not to try too hard and assume too much. It's not easy working behind the counter as a chick, I have been told by Mia and my other, less close girl friends. Every other guy hits on you, which is annoying, but if you don't dress to show off and act flirtatiously, your tips plummet. It's a stupid world, and as a guy who no doubt has historically mistaken such an act for genuine interest and acted stupidly, I apologize. One day I hope these things change. Stella otherwise occupied I tried to find anybody I knew at the party, and failed. Which is to say, I saw Luka but he was getting a lapdance already, the bastard, Mia and Mike were on a couch making out and feeling each other up, Sai was nowhere to be seen, and I didn't know anyone else. From that point, it was a haze of feeling awkward and occasionally talking to strangers about their jobs, or their majors, and periodically returning to Stella for another round of liquor. After the fourth time I came back and asked for another Sapporo, she mock-glared at me. "You just order these because they're bigger than the cups and it makes me drink, aren't you?" "Well, I mean I'm not exactly making you drink them, am I?" "I suppose not. I wonder what on Earth that could mean." She winked at me again, a gesture I was becoming rather fond of, we toasted again, though to what I can't remember because at this point I was becoming definitively drunk, and, like a dumbass, I walked away from the table. I know. I just left. I could have had Mick's panache and done something more productive than what I did. Maybe if I had stayed, the night would have ended differently. I'm glad it didn't. And yet, I also wish, and this is just one part of me, that literally any other sequence of events could have happened. Ch. 5: A Breath of Fresh Air Okay, I was drunk. I admit it. Nothing shameful about it, it was exactly what I was looking to accomplish. Maybe not so quickly, that would have been nice. I'd only been there about an hour or so, and I was feeling pretty maxed out. I don't party all that often, and so I don't really have much of an alcohol tolerance. A lot of my friends have a conception that you can only build up a tolerance to pot, or other drugs, and that alcohol is consistent in its ability to alter your consciousness. They are wrong. At the peak of my collegiate alcoholism, it took me roughly ten or so beers (not Sapporos, a drink I rarely ordered unless there was an open bar, usually Coors or Bud Lite) to start to feel anything other than mildly tipsy. Regardless, my drunkenness and the stuffiness of the inside air didn't combine well, and I left beautiful Stella to go outside and get some air, beer in hand. I sipped it on my way out. Once outside, I felt amazing: there's something about suddenly divorcing yourself from a huge social situation and being, out of nowhere, alone with the city you grew up in, under the stars you have wished upon your entire life. It's wonderful. And Declan's place was in a pretty nice neighborhood. More accurate would be to say that this particular street of apartments was better lit and each building was wider and not as tall, better decorated, the street was well paved. That sort of thing. No cars had passed by here in a while, it seemed, or maybe it was just that night, but the air was sweet and fresh, and appeared to be untainted by the usual toxicity inherent in all city air. Or, fuck, maybe I was just drunk and glad to be out of the house. Theo It was with these thoughts in mind that I heard what I thought was the sound of retching coming from the alley next to the house. I ignored it at first, but once it became clear that this sound was probably someone having a very bad night or feeling sick, I decided to go investigate. Maybe they could help me with finish my beer, or, wait, no. No, sick people don't need more beer. Fuck, regardless, I went over. A nice part of this neighborhood was that the alleys were all lit up with wall mounted lights, and so it was with perfect clarity that I saw a rather old man curled up in the fetal position. He shuddered and coughed as if he was throwing up but nothing came out -- seeing how haggard he looked, the sobering thought that he perhaps had nothing in his stomach to throw up occurred to me, and it became my Mission of the Night to commence Operation Don't Let This Old Guy Die -- I capitalize these words because if you ever have been drunk and whimsically decided to undergo a series of actions the outcome of which you are not sure of but the reasoning for them you would bet your life on, you know the sentiment. This Shit Was Fucking Important. I drank some of my beer, then crouched down. "Excuse me, sir. Are you alright? Er, stupid question I guess. Do you need help? Can I help? Can you hear me?" He wasn't responding, but I heard him breathing, and retching, and so did what any normal person would do and sat next to him, a decent distance away in case his body decided to cough up a lung or something, but close enough that I could hear his breathing. "I'm right here, okay sir? If you don't react to me in the next few minutes I'll, I'll go get somebody, we'll get you somewhere good. Mkay?" I doubted I sounded very convincing but after a few minutes of his continued dry heaving and moans, I decided that Something Must Be Done, but wasn't sure what to do. Maybe Stella would know? She'd think I was all considerate and shit too. An appealing proposition... But wait, no, 911. That's a thing, that's the thing you do for people who need medical assistance. I took out my phone. "Sir, I'm gnna' get you help. Mkay?" Pathetic, really, that I was the hero this man was receiving. He was old, I confess I was disappointed about his lack of Gandalf beard but his face was creased with lines, and stubble, his skin was frail, he had several jackets on him but shivered all the same. I got my phone out and began to dial when I heard a familiar voice. "Young man, I appreciate the effort, but it isn't necessary." Stunned for a moment, I kept dialing and then hit the call button before I realized that the voice which had just spoken was addressed to me and came from where he was.. I turned to look at him and was so shocked by his radical change in appearance, perhaps my mind couldn't handle it, perhaps it was just my drunkenness or the fact that generally speaking, dying hoboes don't turn soundlessly into...whatever he just became, but as I brought my hand to my ear, I found my entire body followed in the same motion and I fell to the ground, and the world faded to an encroaching blackness, and I was falling, falling....falling..... ~~ Fuck. Alright, let's see -- heart beating, that's good. I seemed to be conscious, another bonus, and sober, too. That was interesting. No visuals yet, everything was black. The fuck just happened? "One moment, we're setting everything up." The voice came from inside my head. The voice came. From inside. My head. My fucking god what was this shit? It was my own voice, the same sort of thing that happens when you consciously think of something. You know how you sort of hear your voice inside your head? Not your spoken voice -- your voice. Imagine hearing that, but intrusively, not of your own design. Fucking creepy. "Uh, yeah, no problem, do what you need to do or whatever the fuck, I don't know..." Maybe I was dreaming? But, no, there was no sound of rain. Or, wait, had midnight passed? was it still Tuesday even? I only dream on Tuesdays... "Would rain make you feel more at home?" Again with the voice in my head! Fuck! "No, really, I, uh, I'd just rather you stop talking in my head if that's at all possible, also, quick question, what the fuck? That's about it. Really, just, that: what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HOLY SHIT SOMEBODY HELP ME I'M TRAPPED IN-" "Now now, no need for that." I was silenced -- unable to respond, and, thankfully, the voice I heard instead originated from in front of me. Slowly, my surroundings materialized. Or, rather, they didn't: it was just a desk, lit by a universally angled source of light, and two chairs. And then, suddenly, I was sitting in one of the chairs. Let me tell you, being conscious and having no light or feeling of yourself, it's real reassuring to see you have a body again, even if everything but two chairs and a desk is blackness. From the darkness opposite me, I approached. I looked exactly as I had when I looked at myself in the mirror earlier. Perhaps it is amusing to someone else besides me that my first thought on seeing my double like this was "Not bad. Could work out a bit, though." After that thought, however, the inevitable panic set in: if that was me, who was I? "Oh, please, Theo, talk to me with your mouth. Let's be civil." I said to myself. He said to me. I still to this day have a hard time understanding the events which transpired in this moment of unconsciousness in the alleyway, and for simplicity's sake, I think it is best agreed by all parties involved that I address this supposed mirror of myself by the name of Geoffrey. Geoffrey looked bored. "Okay. Civil. Gotcha." "Thank you," responded Geoffrey, sounding exactly like me, creeping me the fuck out. "Now, let's get down to business." He then addressed the darkness, and not me, or at least that's what it seemed like. "Could we get the contract, please?" "What contract?" I replied. He blinked and seemed a little confused. "You mean, you haven't been informed? Surely, you're joking." "Uh, nope. Pretty confused here. I was in an alleyway. Now I'm here." Then, a thought struck me. "Is that old guy okay? He seemed pretty out of it, then, oh..." I remembered now. He'd told me not to call 911, and then I turned to look at him because he'd sounded familiar, and I was astonished to discover he was my exact replica. "There is no old man, is that right?" A few stapled pieces of paper appeared on the table. Geoffrey looked at me quizically. "Couldn't be.... I've been doing this for eons... they couldn't have changed, no..." He flipped through the pages then a look of immense surprise crossed his face. "Well, they never tell me anything, do they." I laughed. "You're telling me," I said nervously. He looked at my sympathetically, then smoothed back his hair in the same way I did and went back to reading the pages extremely quickly. I could only vaguely make out the writing across the table but any time I tried to focus on it, it blurred. It was a mannerism popular to kids of my generation who liked their hair a certain way, but it's one thing to see your classmates do it, and quite another to see yourself do it directly in front of you. "Well, this is all rather new, and part of the novelty here is I'm basically not allowed to tell you much." He glanced at the pages again. "Really, nothing at all. They moved the signature to a page independent of all other content...very interesting. I'll have to talk to Teffer about this.." "Teffer? Who's that? Actually, fuck that, first off, why do you look like me?" He didn't seem to hear, just leafed through the pages some more, and, sick of being left in the dark (ha. ha.) I was about to ask again when he looked up at me. "Efficiency. Hard to breach our two places in the first place, much easier to duplicate than to create. This is your old kitchen table, and chairs." He gestured to them.I looked again, and, sure enough, discovered the burn mark my sister had made when bacon grease had splattered out of a pan and she forgot to clean it up, and the notch I'd worried into the table with a knife when we heard the news about how much longer she had to live... "Okay. So. Here's the deal. You get...erm, powers. They aren't static, and can change. And...let me check," he flipped through the pages, too quickly to read them I was sure, "nope, yeah that's it. Sign here." He flipped the rest of the pages over and so I only saw two lines: the one on the left had a strange symbol on it, like a series of interlocking circles, and I thought I saw a snake? The right, blank. I was handed a pen, which I idly realized was the pen I'd won for third place in the spelling bee in fourth grade. It said "Arbortown Elementary" on it. This was so surreal. A contract? I was expected to unconsciously sign a legally binding document? Was any of this even happening -- had I gone crazy? "I know in my world we sort of skip the contracts and click I agree, yes, Itunes, you can update, fuck off sort of deal, but this one seems...listen, I honestly, I don't know what's happening right now. I don't want to sign your contract, I want to go home, or I want at least some answers. Or something. Yeah?" The fact that I was not absolutely flipping my shit right now and screaming was a testament either to some mental fortitude the nature of which I had previously not been aware of, or it was a calm imposed on me by the same people which had brought me to this place. "Listen," replied Geoffrey, "you don't really get a choice. Nobody's ever not signed before." "Right, well, supposing I was the first one. Supposing I don't like this." He raised an eyebrow, and looked pretty pretentious honestly. I wasn't sure how much I liked the look of Geoffrey, which is to say me. "Dude, sign the fucking page. Or you fucking die, they pick someone else." Immediately after this a low rumble reverberated in the wherever-I-was, and it shook me to my core. For a brief instant, I felt Power -- true, unadelterated, raw manifestation of will, and it scared the living fuck out of me. I felt exactly how small I was, and Geoffrey, well... Geoffrey exploded. I watched myself combust in front of my eyes. Chunks of me flew into the darkness to disappear. As far as intimidation goes, it was a pretty successful tactic. And so it was, that on the day my life was to change forever for better and for worse, that I signed my name on the line on the same table on which rested my left eye and a bloody piece of my elbow, and the surrounding darkness faded back in. My last thought, I believe, was something along the lines of "I didn't get to read the fine print." I had no fucking idea what I'd just committed to. It's very important to me that you understand that the rest of my life was motivated by this moment of coercion. Be kind to me in your judgments, and before questioning my morals, or my character, or anything really, ask yourself: would you have done much different? Ch. 6: Stella I awoke to angels singing. Or, no, I awoke to the feeling of silk on my skin. The softest silk, caressing my cheek, no, pressing hard against it, envelopping me... Really, I woke up in an alley to someone slapping me awake. "Theo? Theo! Wake up! Fuck, where's my phone..." Apparently they couldn't find theirs because soon after I heard this sentence, I felt hands enter my pockets, one by one. All were empty -- I don't bring my wallet to parties with open bars and I'd tossed my keys to Sai earlier, my phone having slipped out of my hands when I fell unconscious, but when the hand went into my front left pocket it grazed against my dick and immediately retracted. "Oh, uh, sorry, if you felt that. Oh shit there it is." I heard a clammer, then someone dialing, and then that same feeling of incorrectness came over me as when I saw Mia leaving. Whatever phone call was about to be made should not happen. This time, I didn't need to ask for things to change. I could make them change. I felt a rush of energy as my body came to life again, I realized I hadn't been breathing and with a gasp I took in a huge breath of air, I became aware of each of my limbs in a way perhaps only possible if you've been made unaware of their existence while being conscious. I suddenly felt that I had a leg. I'd never felt it in this way before, not the intellectual understanding of knowing I had a leg but rather the feeling not of the leg doing anything but rather the fact of my legs own existence became immediately known to me and this seemed to happen to every organ in my body, every limb, every neuron firing in my brain, my veins, my skin itself wrapped tightly around it all, my eyes and eyelashes, every hair follicle, every part of me was shuddering right now, I must have appeared quite the epileptic. Wait, my lips...There was something wrong with my lips. Or, I realized, smiling, something right. I knew exactly where I was, who was in front of me, the nature of the call they were on, the feeling of surprise and shock. I knew the waves transmitting from the phone were being received six point three seven miles away in a police station, that their lines were full but would clear any second, and, without understanding how, I cut the connection between the phones. It stopped ringing. I opened my eyes, and saw Stella sitting next to me, holding the phone with one hand, taking my pulse with the other. She saw my eyes open. "Oh fuck Theo, thank god, oh Jesus are you okay? Here, follow my finger." She held her index in front of my eyes and moved it back and forth in an attempt at some pseudo-medicinal remedy, but I didn't bother looking. I knew I was fine -- I couldn't tell you how, but I had this implcit knowledge that my body was functioning better, in fact, than it ever had. I was doing great, and much more interesting to me than her finger was her face. How could I ever have called this face anything less than beautiful? It was a kind, worried face, she was frowning and there were tears welling in her eyes. They glimmered in the light cast from the wall mounted halogen lights. How could I ever have tried to categorize this face in the same level as Mia? It was a different game entirely: her face wasn't sexy like Mia's, it was just, simply put, kind and beautiful. Pale like the moon. "Theo, please if you can hear me follow my finger." I couldn't break from her eyes. I wasn't sure if it was something that I'd never noticed or just something new but these eyes had to them a depth I had never seen before. I didn't just see their color, I saw their color as manifesting a part of her own identity, part of her entire being was reflected in those eyes. My god. Every rivulet of color, the miniscule flecks of black and brown, it all meant something so much more than it appeared to visually. It was a language! I needed to articulate this. It was important. "Stella..." "Ohmyfuckinggodthankgodareyouokay?!" She launched herself on top of me, apparently unconcerned with the filth around us. It wasn't the worst as far as alleys went, honestly, it was, like I mentioned, a nicer neighborhood, but it was still an alley. "Stella," "I came out here looking for you because you didn't look good, and you didn't, you know, respond to me when I said," "Stella." "And I just saw you lying here on the ground and you weren't moving or breathing and I thought, I don't know I thought," "Stella! Holy fuck!" She abruptly came off of me, wiping her eyes. She sniffed once. "I'm so sorry, Theo, I-" I don't know how, but I possessed a supremely elegant dexterity as I adjusted my hands and feet to push myself up to a seated position akin to hers in one smooth movement. She looked at me, at a loss for words at this sudden lithe movement. "Stella, you are the most beautiful thing I have seen in this world." Apparently I have massive balls when I come out of a coma. A part of me definitely was surprised at this utterance, but more surprising than this was what came from me next. I adjusted to my knees and cupped her face with my right hand, caressing her cheek. "Thank you so much for coming to look after me. You don't understand how much I appreciate that. I'm sorry for not responding to you obviously hitting on me earlier. I'm a complete idiot. I'm doing okay now." I took her hand with my free hand and squeezed gently. "I'm doing really okay now, you got me out of it. I was just feeling a little sick." It was unnerving how easily the lie came. "I don't know what happened, but you brought me back." More lies. She took a few measured but stuttered inhales and as she did so I remembered how big her breasts were and how generous her t-shirt was, looking down at her chest expanding and contracting with her breath, I shamelessly enjoyed the view. She still hadn't said anything, and I looked back up at her face. She was tearing up. "Stella, I'm okay. I'm okay." I knew she needed to be comforted somehow, but more strange than that was I knew the way she liked to be hugged: she loved burying her face inside the crook of people's necks, which her ex hadn't enjoyed because it tickled him, and she'd often speculated if that particular lack of connection there wasn't the kernel at the center of their dysfunction... Holy shit, where is all this coming from? What the fuck? I knew I needed a lot of time to figure out what had just happened. I'd signed something? Right? "Theo I just, I thought you were gone. Fuck, I mean, fuck, I didn't know you or anything but I...I thought you, you know...I thought -" "You thought you gave CPR to a corpse?" That's what had been going on with my lips. There was hints of lipstick on it. And her saliva. Something deep inside me, something I didn't understand at all, somewhere deep in my chest and in my stomach nudged the notion into my head, it wasn't me, I promise, or at least it wasn't there before. Maybe it was the new me. Whatever it was, it tasted her saliva...and it wanted more. A lot more. She laughed bashfully, and blushed. It was the cutest goddamn thing I'd seen all night. "Yeah. Hah, yeah." She punched my arm. "Don't do that to me again." "I promise I will never scare you again. Thank you for checking on me, again, I can't say it enough." "Fuck. Fucking...fuck." At this point I realized that we were sitting in an alleyway, and that there were many better places to court a beautiful woman. She seemed to have the same thought because we both looked around, then looked back at each other, and burst out laughing. Sometimes, laughter is the best way to cope with the shit you don't understand. Sometimes, it's all you can do. "How are you feeling?" she asked. I heard genuine concern, but it was lighthearted. "I need a drink. Do you need a drink? I need a drinl. Or six." She grinned and stood up, offering me a hand up. I took it, but instead of simply standing I did so while pulling her towards me so that she fell off balance, and then suddenly I was standing up and with a swoop of my other arm, with strength I didn't know I had, I was holding her torso in one arm and her legs in the other, and her head was resting against my neck. She looked up at me with an expression of wonder that I would cherish forever. "Yes," she said, faltering, "I could use a drink." She giggled, hopped out of my arms, and as we walked back I reached for her hand, and she must have been doing the same because we met halfway, and so it was that we walked back into the party drunk off each other, glowing, ready for the night to unfold in earnest. Ch. 7: The Party, pt. 2 Do you ever have those moments where you realize that not only have you been looking for something you didn't know you were looking for, but that you also have just found it? It's the Hero's Journey wrapped into one feeling: the longing, the desire, the resolution, all in one moment. Theo I was there -- it's beautiful, the sensation of having given up a search because you found what you needed, and all there is to do is to enjoy it. It turns out Stella was only the bartender for the first half of the evening, she is a professional that was in between actual jobs, her past bar having closed a month or so ago, and she'd been grateful for the work and the generous pay. We'd walked back in and ordered gin and tonics, a nice change from the beer. We were getting to know each other at the bar, and it was honestly one of the nicest moments of the night. This will perhaps mean more to you later, but believe me when I say that those initial minutes, or hours, where you both know you are into each other, but aren't quite there yet, those are the moments to cherish. We talked of her studies, her past relationships, her friends, her disillusionment with modern politics. I agreed with her on some fronts, we bounced ideas back and forth, and danced the general dance of steel until such a point that both our feet were sore and we wanted a place to sit down. "Your shirt still smells like beer, you know." She grinned as she sipped her drink, the second we'd ordered. I'd forgotten about making a fool of myself earlier, but it was all in good fun now. "You're still the most attractive girl in the room, you know." It was the first time I'd been so overt since the alleyway, but then she'd been in shock and I hadn't really known what I was doing. She stopped drinking, put her drink down on the bar, and looked at me with a very peculiar expression on her face. Guarded, but, beneath that, desire. I wasn't in any hurry. "Theo...Thank you. You're very kind." She looked around. "Want to stop standing around the open bar like a couple alcoholics and maybe find someplace to sit?" I nodded. There were two seats about to be open in a nook by the kitchen that was mostly out of sight. The couple that was making use of the privacy had turned themselves on enough to the point that they'd been feeling each other up when someone walked past and pretended not to notice, and, realizing that they could be in other, more private, more naked places, they were gathering their belongings to leave. I took Stella's hand, it was soft, but strong. These hands saw work but were well taken care of. "Come with me Stella." There's something so great about asking someone to come with you to a place you know will be private for the two of you, and having them do so with nothing but a light, hapy heart. "By the way, I love the way your hands feel." She giggled. "Thanks. I figure they're important to me, so I moisturize and do some mild stretches before and after work. Nobody's ever noticed that before, actually." I smiled. It felt good to make her happy. I'd felt like this before, this connection with a woman, with Mia, with others. It was similar, but the sensations I experienced that night had an added vastness to them. Every smile she had extended, at least in feeling, into infinity, and it was just a question of how far I wanted to follow it. Right now, I had other things on my mind. I felt an energy inside me needing to burst out, I felt power inside that was going to manifest itself and needed little guidance. I had been eying Stella's tits the entire time we talked, when she turned from me, I admired her ass and its size and proportions to her beautiful legs and her symmetry and how she stood and her everything and I wanted it all. I was going to take it, it was mine to control. We edged our way through the crowd which seemed to part a little more in front of me. Wait -- no, not take it, I wouldn't take anything from her. I shook my head and it cleared a little -- I wanted her, but I wanted to do this right. I knew I had "powers" or whatever I'd been given, minute increases in awareness, or bigger, more distinctive ones, and I was curious about the extent to which I could use them. I'd cut off a phone signal...that was interesting. What else could I do? We passed the couple that was leaving the secluded area, which ended up being behind a curtain, perhaps placed there deliberately with the intent of offering a place of refuge to Declan and his friends, but I had other plans. Anyone with half an open eye could tell the intentions of the couple, the raw sexuality that exuded from them was palpable to anyone with scent glands and any sense of awareness. I idly remarked to myself that the girl had just been fingered and brought to orgasm over the leftmost part of the seat. We entered the alcove, a large sofa that could easily fit three, really it was more of a bed, was there. I finished my drink and put it on the ground, turning to Stella who was finishing hers. I brought the curtain, hanging by a rod fixture, a little farther forward and suddenly we were the only people we could see. Her drink finished, she turned to me. "Theo, I'm, well I'm pretty drunk right now. Shit." "Yeah, I'm definitely feeling those gin and tonics as well. I'm feeling good. Are you good drunk? Uncomfortable at all?" "Nope," she grinned a grin I recognized, "I'm feeling pretty good myself. And you are...you are pretty good too. It's been nice to meet you. I, I wanted you the minute I saw you...Dorky boy." I laughed at her poking fun at me, and with surprising initiative she stepped forward and brought one hand to my junk, moving it around softly. "We're only separated by a curtain, Theo...Why don't we go somewhere more private?" That wasn't part of the plan. This had to happen now. "Stella, what if I told you that we were completely safe here? That nobody could hear us, and that nobody would walk past?" I could do that. I could make sure nobody stopped me. She squeezed a little harder and brought her lips close to mine, and I could feel her breath, the space between our mouths a swirling intermingling of our exhales, her eyes drawing me deeper, her body demanding to be touched, kissed, to be caressed and brought to orgasm over, and over, to have her down on her knees bobbing on my dick, to stare her in the eyes as I pumped deeper and deeper into her, I was going to make her mine. "I'd say you were a talented liar..." She grinned and came even closer. I brought my hand to her butt for the first time, playing lightly over its voluptuous surface. Heaven. Absolute heaven, I squeezed it, I played with it, massaging it deeply and feeling her moans exhaled onto my lips. I drank them up, they left me feeling a drunk more intoxicating than that bestowed upon me by the liquor, I needed more, I had to have more of her "Stella," my voice had a layer to it I'd never heard before but I was beyond caring or noticing, "this is the place, you are safe here, you are with me, you are mine, believe me. Don't hold back, don't hold back a fucking thing Stella, we have it all-" And with that something snapped in both of us I think. The distance between our lips was bridged in a tenth of a blink of an eye, she kissed me passionately, her tongue entering my mouth immediately and we stayed like this, fencing in wet thrusts with our tongues, I pulled her close into me, I grabbed her ass with a force I couldn't have summoned had my sister been trapped under a car, with my other hand I reached up and held her face, breaking our kiss, staring deep into her eyes I held her gaze and in it I saw submission, I saw aggression, I saw the deepest desire to dominate and be dominated, I saw her sexuality in all its forms and I understood her, I think, in that moment more than I ever did after that. It was all there, pure and as of yet, untainted. With the hand on her ass I spun her around and took one last look at her butt covered in that lycra, that skintight fabric which demanded to be taken off and I was not in a position to argue. I shoved her onto the sofa and she fell with a small squeal and I knew her pussy was starting to get wet, that she was starting something only I could finish, and I stepped over there with finality and purpose in my steps, I ripped her pants off down her legs and saw her naked ass in all its pristine glory, the pale globes raised up, she raised her hips toward me, an offering, and I saw her pussy between her legs, the tight puckered asshole above it, I saw it all, and I couldn't wait. I walked over next to her and turned her on her side so that she was looking at me, with those big, needy eyes. "Tell me what you want, Stella. Anything, and it's yours." "Fuck me Theo. Fuck me right now, you motherfucker, we've played this dance all night, you fucking bastard I want you so deep inside of me, I want to feel ravaged, I want you inside my fucking cunt Theo, please, please god just do me right now!" I think it was in this moment, this precise moment of hearing her beg to be fucked that I began to understand my power, and myself. Because I didn't fuck her then. I slowly unzipped my chinos, staring her in the face, at her impatient, longing expression. I unbuttoned the top button and let them fall, and my boxers went with them. I held her gaze, as long as I looked at her in the eyes I knew she couldn't break the contact, I stepped closer, holding my dick in one hand, slowly stroking it. "You want this in your pussy, Stella? Mmmm... How badly?" I took my other hand and put a finger over her red lips, pushing it between them, and she sucked on the tip so tightly and desperately I felt my digit would pop off. Her blonde hair cascading down her back, the pony tail undone at some point during the night. Her gorgeous, deep cleavage. Mine. I pushed my finger farther down her mouth and when she resisted a little I growled bestially, I didn't know what this was and I didn't care, she lessened her resistance and I stuck the whole finger down. "Nothing to stay, my dear? My sweet, beautiful Stella, you don't know how badly you want my cock inside of you?" I never stopped stroking my dick. I never broke eye contact with her. She looked at me maddeningly, she knew I held her in the palm of my hand, the party long since gone, all there was was me, and her, and I slowly retracted my finger from her mouth, and she began to say something but the time for words was past and as she opened her mouth to take a breath, I anticipated the movement, and had my cock inside her mouth before she could say anything. As I slowly entered my dick into her, I traced my finger, dripping with her own saliva, down her cheek, tracing the contour of her cheekbone, down her neck and onto her collarbone. I pushed my member further in until it was half engorged by her lips. Without any demand on my part she began to swirl her tongue around it and I groaned my appreciation. She took this as a cue to keep going and she increased slowly the pace at which her tongue flecked around the head of my dick, up and down, canoeing underneath and making gagging noises. We still hadn't broken eye contact, I went deeper into her eyes and brought my finger over her exposed breast, my cock parked in her mouth, enjoying being swirled by her dextrous tongue, I dipped my finger into her bra and found her left nipple. I squeezed it and she gasped around my dick, then retreating my hand I sucked on my index and middle finger, staring at her the entire time, working up and down on them to get them soaking and then removed them, dripping saliva, and I brought them to her hip, curled onto the top of her butt and moving slowly over, and arched an eyebrow at her. She nodded vigorously with my cock still in her mouth and I slowly moved my fingers over the arch of her hip, with a brief detour around the globe of her beautiful ass, and I brought the two wet fingers right up to her pussy which was radiating incredible amounts of heat. The minute she felt my fingers come close to her most sacred space her eyes widened even more and she moaned around my dick, the vibrations mixing with her tongue momentarily resting under it resulting in a wonderfully moist, sizzling sensation around my cock and I thrust it a little more inside her, groaning, and as she pushed her pussy closer to my fingers I took them farther away but always keeping them close enough that she knew a few millimeters and she would have access to the release she needed. I stared at her unwavering as I put my free hand behind her head, and she groaned, frustrated that she had not been given the pleasure I had been taking for myself this entire time. "Stella," I said softly and she looked at me expectantly, so weak, so very weak from being kept at this brink before the fall, she took up her tongue's movements on my dick again in response to her name, "Stella, if you want this," and I pushed my fingers barely into the folds of her lips and slid them up and down her pussy, she tried to buck her hips on them to make my fingers slide inside her but I moved them away at the last moment every time, giving her only a taste, keeping her on the edge always "You need to give yourself completely to me. Give me all of it. You are mine to control." She could only moan her response and weakly nod, I saw a hint of fear in her eyes, fear that she knew she had no choice, fear that I could do anything to her and she would let me. It was exactly what I wanted. "Good." And with that I slid both fingers into her pussy slowly, twisting them the entire time, going in and out a little deeper each time, and she cried out in pleasure, louder and higher pitched every time I went deeper, at the same time as she found the beginnings of her release, I began to pulse my cock deeper into her mouth, any resistance, any groans dissolved under the rythmic pounding I was giving her face. Once I was getting close to having my full dick inside of her I was thrusting my fingers in and out of her pussy in a frenzy, her hips gyrating and shoving against my hand into the sofa cushions, her ass almost swallowing my hands whole, I felt that good as this was, I needed more, I needed ruin, I needed absolute destruction, I wanted to devastate her and this cock wasn't enough for that and so with most of it already inside her mouth, I groaned and pumped her pussy harder and harder and willed my cock grow bigger, I was too drunk off her and off of this power to be surprised that it actually did. It grew and grew in length and girth until some deep part of me was satisfied that this was a cock that would bring her to her knees, that would leave her cowering and also begging for more, I felt her cum on my fingers and her whole body shake on them, "Oh Theo, Fuuuuuuuuck, fuck....fuck....Ohhhhhhfuuuu" and she foolishly forgot about my cock in her mouth, she stopped her tongue movements, she had instead of allowing it to grow in her mouth had pushed it out so that she only had a bit past the tip inside. I allowed her the orgasm. I moved my fingers around inside her pussy in a spiral, I moved over her clit alternating directions, I squeezed her labia together, I kept up the frenzy of her orgasm until right as it began to subside and my dick was almost entirely neglected and falling out of her mouth, she was overcome with another shuddering second wave of pleasure, screaming almost at the top of her lungs, she looked so perfect there, with her shirt probably ruined, her hair all over the place, shaking, shaking for me, she had cum twice and I hadn't had my own orgasm and she had left my dick out. I knew what she deserved. While she came, I removed my fingers from her pussy to her brief dismay but she was too into riding her orgasm into bliss she had never before reached that I had both of my hands firmly gripping her hair and my dick lined up perfectly when I waited for her shuddering to finish, and her clenched eyes to open. She looked up at me with such wonder, such benevolence for this that I had given her, it was time for me to take what was mine. I locked eyes with her and with a voice deeper, more layered, and fraught with undertones of domination and corruption, a voice which demanded submission, said: "Mine." And I thrust her head down onto my enlarged cock. She could barely wrap her mouth around it so I took a hand off her head and yanked down her jaw, hard, something cracked but I could now fit my cock in, I had to, and groaning I stuffed the entire girth in. She whimpered, and looked up at me with such fear in her eyes, "Yes Stella. Yessss" I relished that fear and I pushed my cock deeper into her mouth until it could go no further, some sort of barrier, the bend of her throat, whatever it was, it was puny to me, it was in the way of my pleasure and it would not last long, so I let her off for a moment, enough for her to gasp out for air, and to utter a breathy "Please..." It was all I needed. Her laying there on her side, I fucked her face deeper and deeper until I'd broken down everything that stopped the entirety of my cock from being inside, and once I got the whole thing in I parked its entire mass inside her throat, holding her head against my pelvis with one hand, her lips struggling around the hilt. She struggled and gagged against its monstrous intrusion, her throat pulsed and contracted having never before had anything this large in it, and what would normally have been hundreds of signs of my having gone too far just served to turn me on further. With the other hand I caressed her cheek, this beautiful woman, this Stella, she was mine, she was everything, I needed to make the claim, and so I pumped my dick in her mouth over, and over, she was gasping for air through her nose, I could tell she could only barely breathe when I felt the beginnings of my orgasm coming. I picked up the pace, I willed my dick grow even larger in her throat as I put my other hand on her head, grabbing her hair and thrusting deep in her throat at the same time that I pulled her head on and off my engorged cock. I wanted my hot cum down her throat, I didn't want a single drop in her mouth, and so as my orgasm rose in my dick and my balls contracted and I felt the oncoming release, I shoved my member as far as I could into her mouth, it was ecstasy, absolute ecstasy, her bodily contractions, the refusal she couldn't enact properly propelled me further, I had destroyed this bitch with my cock and she was mine to claim, frenzied, I went faster and faster, I fucked her face like it was the last thing on Earth and like she was nothing more to me than a subject to be conquered, I plowed into her mouth, peripherally aware that her breaths were almost nonexistant. "Oh fuck Stella, yes, yes, just like that, Fuck yeah oh fuck, fuck, ohhhh..." It all went down her throat. Her eyes bulged as the onslaught came, wave after wave of cum coursed down into her as I made deep, smaller thrusts into her, slamming her lips against my pelvis over and over. The cum didn't stop for so long -- dimly, I was aware that I may very well be killing her right now, that she couldn't breathe or wouldn't be able to handle the ridiculous amount of cum coursing into her, that I could literally drown her with my orgasm, but it was a thought so far down my mind that it was completely ignored. After I finished, I still left my cock parked there for a few moments, relishing the utter domination I had enacted upon this mortal, the sheer power from it, I felt I could do anything, that the walls around me, the curtain, this sofa, this tiny spark of pale life I'd used for my own ends was mine for destroying. Everything had about it a certain fragility except my own self: I was concrete set eternal, I watched planets wither and die, I could fuck a black hole if the desire crossed my mind. And then I saw Stella. I'd been looking at her most of the time, of course, but something shifted. I noticed, I actually saw that she was barely breathing. I looked at her hair plastered with spit and sweat. At her smeared makeup. At her face, tearing up. At her eyes, begging for something. Then, I realized, of course, she wants this fucking anaconda out of her throat. Theo I pulled out and I think it was probably the ridiculous comedic size that my dick had grown to that snapped me back into a moment of lucidity. The thing was probably over fourteen inches long, thicker than many types of pvc pipe...how on earth had it even fit inside her? Then I looked down and saw the strange way in which her jaw was hanging, the blood that dripped down the edges. "Oh, oh no. Oh fuck, Oh my god. Stella, Oh shit, oh shit." It didn't take a medical degree to see that I'd broken her jaw, unhinged it somehow to fit my surrealist cock inside, stretched her mouth to limits nobody should have to feel. On top of the humiliation I'd given her, I couldn't imagine the physical anguish she was in right now. Except, somehow, I knew that I actually could if I wanted to. I looked in her eyes, it took everything I had to not turn away, and I did what I believe saved me from a life of wanton destruction, a life of rape, of carnal pleasure at whatever cost. I went inside of her eyes. Ch. 8: Stella Revisited I don't know what I was expecting. Since her eyes were blue, I expected some sort of water scene, perhaps her floating on a boat. I'd come aboard, we'd talk, I'd apologize, she'd forgive me, I'd come out and, fuck, I don't know. I don't know what I was thinking. It was hell. The closest I've ever come to it. Before even forming an understanding of my situation or my surroundings, every single one of my sensory organs was assaulted, the innate reflexes of revulsion from the things which hurt our senses had no time to react. I smelled death, the air was laden with sharp pangs of searing fire and sharp ice and it burned my skin, hot, and cold, I felt my flesh melting and freezing at the same time, I felt pain so deep it pierced through me and then came back in through the other side like I was being sewn with a needle of rage and fire, I felt myself dissolving, I heard her screams both initial and then echoed across the caverns of the insides of her body. It wasn't just that I'd broken her jaw. I'd broken her spirit completely, some of the things I'd said, that voice... That voice! What the fuck was that? I wasn't even speaking, my mouth moved and words came out but they were brought on by something else. Something sinister. Fuck. What had I done? I needed to help her, to enact repairs, but I didn't know what to do. A degree of situational awareness came into place and I saw we were in fact in water but the water was boiling and the sky was blood red. The two of us were on top of a fast dissolving raft. The Stella I saw now looked only somewhat similar to the Stella I'd abused before. This one glowed. This one had a shining blank space for eyes, and it looked at me like I was nothing. I reached out a hand, causing me immense amounts of pain as I saw my skin peeling away from itself, stretching and cracking in the heat, then freezing and blistering and breaking once again all in one movement. "Stella, please..." WHO ARE YOU, TO BEG FROM ME The voice was everywhere, the entirety of this world, the raft, the boiling water, the Stella I saw crouched in front of me spitefully, the darkening sky, they all spoke to me at once. "I didn't mean it, it wasn't me, I didn't know what was happening, I-" BROKE HER "Yes, yes, I know," I was screaming, the voice was so loud I could barely even hear my own, the bubbling of the water increased, it smelled like an end, the air tasted like I deserved to capsize. And I did. I believed it entirely. "What can I do? I don't know what this even is!! I need to help her, or you, or whatever the fuck this is just let me-" DIE The word reflected over and over across every surface, reverberating and picking up momentum as it did so such that it reached my ears a million times, increasing with more and more pain and despair every time I heard it all in the space of a short moment. I had no idea what to do. I saw the huddled form of Stella on the raft, shrinking. Her glow subsiding. Her clothes dissolving, her skin becoming subject to the same horrors mine felt at this very moment. SHOW HER DEATH SHOW HER LIFE It was all so very dramatic, and I can't stand when things are more than they have to be. I wanted a solution. The cavernous voice suggested death and life. At that moment, I couldn't come anywhere close to conceiving how to give life to anything. Death was easier, and a punishment I deserved a hundred times over for what I'd done. I figured, to hell with it, and I blew a kiss to Stella's huddled form on the opposite side of the raft, and, without looking to see if it met her, I tumbled into the water. They say as you burn the first thing that goes is the nerves that feel pain. With what little power I had here, I preserved them all. First, my skin dissolved, but I kept the nerves which told me my skin was burning. Then my muscles, and my bones, they too disappeared, and I kept the nerves as well. I kept safe from the caustic waters only that which would allow me to feel their burning corrosion. My ligaments, my organs, they all washed away until all I was was a neatly organized network of sensory nerves, all aflame for the deed I had done. I will spare you overmuch the description of the feeling -- it is one I wish on nobody, and one reserved for me in that moment. That pain I subjected myself to was unlike any other that has ever existed. It was not physical, or emotional, transcending all binaries to which I'd subscribed my entire life. I felt my soul aflame in all its infinite capacities. I watched every piece of myself dissolve, I tried to keep the nerves from disappearing as long as possible, to prolong my deserved suffering, to keep my soul in those waters for as long as I could, but eventually the waters overcame that too, and so it came to pass that I died in Stella's eyes a million times before disappearing in them for what I thought would be the rest of my life. Ch.9: Interlude -.... -... -Fuck. -My god. -He just, he, day fucking number one, he bonded, -He more than just bonded, he bridged the gap, and then -He fucking let himself die in there! The fuck! The fucking fucking... fuck! -Teffer, you watch the humans too much. Your vocabulary suffers for it. -Oh, sorry boss, didn't meant to exaggerate the degree to which I am reacting TO THIS ABSOLUTE NOBODY ACHIEVING A STATE MOST PEOPLE DON'T GET TO FOR YEARS. I mean God Damn, the shit he did, spreading the awareness to the whole room, finding them a spot, I mean really, kudos man, kudos, but he just... -Uncapped, it overpowered him. He had no chance. -Yeah, no kidding. No kidding. -... -So what happens now? -Realistically? -Yeah. -He probably gets a second shot. Everyone was watching that upstairs. -Wow. A second shot? That's only happened once before, right? -With the Jew, yes. -Fuck. -Indeed. -Now that's TV. That's what I'm talking about. -Indeed. -You know, you say I say fuck a lot, you say indeed like you get paid per use. It doesn't make you seem smarter, you know. You just sound like an asshole. -Hmm. Is that so? -Indeed. Ch.10: Dreams It was Tuesday. It was raining. The long stretch of highway in front of me seemed a lot less daunting with the understated ambiance of the sound of light raindrops splattered across the car roof. I wasn't driving -- I don't know who was, but I was in the backseat, and we were going pretty fast. I recognized the passing country as the fields outside Arbortown. Sometimes I used to come here with my sister and we'd play hide and seek in the tall grass. My mother and father would sit on one of the large rocks that spotted the landscape and keep a somewhat watchful eye over us. It was liberating, back then, to come out here: none of the lines forming the grid of the city, the air, despite being next to a highway, was fresh. We made up our own games, we played king and queen, we were warriors, we were secret agents, we were imaginary creatures called Tippies that hopped around and cast spells on all the insects. The car slowed down and pulled over to part of the land I hadn't frequented all that much, and without my willing it to, my door opened. As with all dreams, the sequence of events was muddy, or at least the motivations behind them were. For instance, I had no jacket but I stepped out into the rain. I say no jacket but really I don't know what I was wearing, it could have been and in fact probably was nothing because all I remember is feeling the rain pouring down onto me. Not too heavily, it wasn't a huge storm, but the light pitter-patter all around me welcomed my presence, and I felt warm despite the chill in the air. My skin tingled. I felt, oddly enough, alive. The car probably left behind me, I'm not sure, but I walked off the shoulder of the highway into the field of grass toward a figure sitting down on a picnic cloth. The closer I came to it, the more it looked familiar. I'd seen this face before. In my past. But the name eluded me... The closer I came to this picnic scene the more my surroundings changed. The highway disappeared, the distant trees changed, the cloudy sky gave way to a nighttime starscape free from the oppressive light pollution of the city, and, almost arrived at the figure sitting on the checkered tablecloth, I knew that it was Stella. "Hey." I didn't really know what else to say but I had to say something. The word sounded weak in my mouth. I looked around, we were still in grasslands but they were foreign to me. She looked up at my with a completely neutral expression on her face. "Hello. Would you like some crackers and jam?" "Sure. Can I sit?" "Yes." I walked over to the tablecloth and sat down next to her. She had a picnic basket, the promised jam and crackers, a mason jar of some sort of liquid I suspected was lemonade. It was all very picturesque. "Stella -" "Please, call me Stella," she interrupted. I paused, unsure of what to do. "Uh, okay. Did I say it wrong? Stella?" At the utterance of her name she shook her head and her long blonde hair flew around her shoulders landing in a dazzlingly beautiful dissarray. Of course she was beautiful, her large breasts only barely covered, it seemed, by a thin loose light blue gown that went down to her feet tucked beneath her. I could see her nipples pressing against the fabric, the outline of her breasts around them. "Yes. You've always said it wrong. You don't mean it when you say it." "What are you talking about? How do you, like, how do you 'mean' a name?" She shook her head again. "I can't tell you. You're the one that messed everything up. You're the one that came into my dream. You figure it out." I was eager to do anything at all redemptive of the horrible way I'd treated her moments (hours? Eons? lifetimes?) ago, but I was also more lost than ever. Was I in her dream? Was I dreaming this entire thing? All this crossing of the different modes of consciousness were leaving me feeling very much disoriented and untrusting of my surroundings. I started to think. How do you mean a name? I brooded. She occasionally drank from her jar, once in a while she handed me a cracker with some jam, strawberry, I guessed from the look of it. But every time I tried to eat one, it turned to sand in my mouth. I soon stopped accepting them, and she shrugged indifferently, and stopped offering. I kept thinking. How to mean a name? I saw a few crickets. The wind was crisp and rarely died down, so her light hair always appeared to be playing with it. She hummed a lullaby I didn't recognize. "Well, Stella means star, right?" She nodded in response and dabbed at the corner of her lips daintily. "Is this the right track? Is this what you mean?" I felt I was on to something but wasn't sure. She cocked her head and looked at me pensively. "Yes." She nodded definitively. "You are starting to see, maybe." "So when I say your name, I shouldn't think of you, I should think of stars?" "No, no, no!" She tossed her arms to the side exasperatedly. "We're dreaming right now, Theo. In my dream. Why do the two have to be distinct?" It was a fair point. I didn't lucid dream ever, if that's what this was, even, but I supposed I'd seen enough of my reality distorted, I'd seen myself succumb to the power-hungry jaws of the new abilities I'd been given. I'd bent her mind to let me do anything to her without any resistance. I could hold in my mind another new concept, I could consider that her name signified both her and the stars above in a sense more real than the linguistic. I looked up at the stars, those little pinpricks. My sister once told me she thought they were holes in a blanket, and each star was the sun coming through in a different spot. I often wondered about the place beyond the black sky where the sun went to hide at night. I wondered if she was there now. "You know, I could never really understand the constellations," I said. "The big dipper, sure, that one's easy. But Scorpio? Or the crab one? I never could see the drawings of the constellations supposedly connected by the stars." She giggled, and scooted a little closer to me, which was surprising, though I wasn't going to question it. Hell, I still didn't understand why she'd come on to me in the first place, before I'd signed the contract. Maybe I had some sort of mind-altering effect before it happened? That my signature was inevitable and there was some sort of buildup, a precursor? I had no idea. This day was full of unresolved mysteries and I decided then to give up wondering and to just live them the best that I could. She leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, and we watched the stars shine for a long, long while without saying anything. My heart was breaking for what I'd done to her, for what I'd become in the moment. I don't really know what I did. In her dream my memories were smudged, all I had was a distinctive imprint of the emotions behind them. And they were not impressions I was keen on revisiting. It was clear to me this was all a dream right now because of the way my emotions were processed, in that fuzzy, vastly amplified way "It was very nice of you, what you did," she whispered. I almost didn't hear her words, I saw the wind around us carrying them away but with a concentrated dreamy effort I sent my hearing over to them as they flew along in the breeze and heard them before they left for good. I put my arm around her and brought her closer to me. "I don't really know what I did. I know I did something horrible...I don't think it was a very nice thing." She put her hand in my lap palm up, asking for mine. We held hands, huddled together beneath the stars. "Not that. That was bad." I felt her tense up. "That was very bad." My voice was hoarse. "I'm so sorry." "I meant, what you did after. On the raft." My eyebrows shot up -- she remembered that? Wait, I remembered that? What had even happened? I was standing there in front of her, relishing in my conquest, I thought I was debating whether or not I wanted to fuck her already ravished body when I'd seen how huge my dick was and was brought out of my reverie. Then what -- I went into her eyes? I had no idea how that even worked. "You died for me. You died for me over and over in my waters." She was still whispering, and shaking a little, though from the cold night air, or from the memory, I couldn't tell. "I don't understand any of this Theo. But I do know that one moment, I was broken, destroyed in a million million pieces that I couldn't even begin to think to put back together, and the next, you were in my waters, you were burning there." I remembered. Saying that it was excruciating pain is like saying hurricanes are kinda powerful. You just have no idea, even if you're caught in a hurricane you only feel its localized effect and have zero comprehension of the power of the totality. I burned and dissolved over and over, I kept my nerves in those boiling waters in her eyes until I'd taken enough pain to kill me a thousand times over. Stella burrowed her head into the crook of my neck and I brought her in closer to me. Our immediate surroundings changed: a blanket appeared over our huddled form, the picnic basket was gone, there were soft, plushy pillows around us. It smelled faintly of incense. Probably her doing, though whether or not it was deliberate, I don't know. "You gave yourself to me. I felt you disappear and bring me back to life." She detached from me and took my face in one hand, bringing my eyes to look at hers which I'd been avoiding for fear of falling into them again, or seeing pain, I flinched initially but there was only the kindness I'd seen before, in the alleyway, at the bar. Her expression was one of complete compassion, and I tried to keep them down, but I could feel my own tears coming. "Theo, I'd stopped breathing. I'm not a doctor but I'm pretty sure I was dead, or pretty close to it. You killed yourself to bring me back. I felt it. I don't know how you're still here. Honestly, I think I'm dreaming this whole thing." I hung my head down as I felt the weight of what I'd done crash onto my shoulders. It was true -- I'd died. I'd done so willingly. She'd demanded I show her death, so I did. Fighting the tears, my voice was shaking. "I had to do it, Stella. I'd...I'd just killed you. You suffocated on me...I had to do it, I, I-" Was I dead? Was this my fate, was I condemned to walk her dreams and only exist in her sleep? Would it rain here on Tuesdays? "Theo..." She tipped my head back up to meet her gaze. I could see the same tears beginning to form in her eyes as well. "I don't know what happened. I don't know what happens. But I do know that you're here, and I'm here." She cupped my cheek and put a hand on my thigh, smiling weakly. "And maybe, maybe this is the last time I see you. Maybe you're gone forever after this. And, and if that's the case..." She brought the blanket over us and in one fluid motion generously made possible by the dreamworld we inhabited, she was suddenly straddling me and I was laying down. Through the thin silk of her gown, I felt her crotch resting on top of mine, I felt the heat there. I felt my mistakes dissolving around me. "I want to do it right. Just this last time." And she fell on top of me, bringing the blanket with her. I don't know how to describe what came next because it was so intertwined with being a dream that describing it as a sequence of events was disingenuous to what we did to each other. For instance, she fell on top of me, bringing with her the blanket, and instead of the two of us being under a blanket, I felt our forms meld into each other, our bodies, those cheap fleshy forms were so trivial. The blanket covering us became the night sky, with too many stars to count, and looking up through eyes I didn't feel I had, I saw her being as a constellation above me. I saw her mouth in those stars and I kissed it, I caressed her starlit hair, I brought myself closer to her body. Everything became sort of abstracted in this way, I knew I had a dick, and legs and a mouth, I had body parts but no body, for all intents and purposes those parts of me existed without existing. If you don't understand, that's okay, I still don't. Pretend I'm not talking about an incredibly complex quasi-magical impossible to understand dreamlike phenomenon largely influenced by a contract I signed with beings I don't understand who gave me powers I can't control. Pretend I'm just fucking some chick and go about your day. And for the rest of you, effectively, I made love to the night sky. I brought my hand to Stella's cheek and we kissed passionately, black holes and nebulas swirled as our salivas mixed and our tongues caressed each other. She tasted like distant galaxies and strawberries, still kissing she took hold of my dick with a hand and stroked it slowly, feeling my balls with her light fingertips, feeling the underside of my cock and tugging on it. Parallel to her endless expanse, raised high above the ground we'd been on, the planet forgotten, I buried my face in her breasts and they enveloped me, so soft, so perky, I lost myself in her pale flesh as I felt her moan and push her breasts into me.