Thesocratespot: The Art of Story telling - Part 6.0074 : The alchemy of Blood & The Lusty Shamans
Tarzan the Ape man woke
up, he was feeling pretty rotten and exhausted for no reason, the last he knew
was he was having a drink with his rival 'Phantom the Ghost Who Walks' after a
crazy game of chess and then all he remembered was that he had a dream of being
on an errand to murder a girl and then soon ended up making love to the girl
whom he was supposed to kill and then eventually eloping with her with a gun in
hand.
Fuck ! The whole thing
appeared so weird ! Whacko !! What happened to him in between ? when did he
finish his booze session with Phantom ? How did he reach back to his room ?
Where did the Gun come from ? And who was that girl ? Was there a cyclonic storm
?
He was also worried
about ... Fuck ! did mom see me walking in ? Was I so completely sozzled that I
just don't remember a thing about last night ? was it just last night ? Or did
the crook Phantom drug me into doing something ? More than just a day before
?
How many days ?? he
remembered nothing .
The more Tarzan thought
about everything - the dream and the absence of any other sane memory for the
last several days, beyond the dream, he had absolutely no idea, no memory of
anything that had happened to him in the recent past, nothing ! Almost as if
someone had conveniently entered into his brain chamber and selectively chose
to erase some records ! - he felt lost, confused and crazy.
Suddenly Tarzan felt a
cold chill crossing his spine - just as he was contemplating things he saw his
dick harden, real hard and aching the damn fellow was asking for urgent
attention so much that it was diverting his deep contemplative state to a state
of pure lust - pushing him to rush to the wash room and masturbate, masturbate
he must !
Tarzan couldn't help, so
instead of rushing to the wash room he just started jacking off while lying on
his bed -
that bed
that ancient bed
who knows ?
who else had jacked off
?
on this bed ?
before ?
those brown stains on
the sheets and the pillow
were they stains of
masturbation ? of lust and sex ? of past sin ?
Just as all such
thoughts crossed my mind, my mind slowly moved back to my dream and soon that
girl returned smiling, she looked exactly the way she looked last night, but I
saw her half sleeved blouse was still a bit torn and she still had that gun
tucked into her bra.
I gasped and asked , You
?
She said , Yes ? You
thought I was dead ? I'm still alive silly !
Now c'mon I'm lusty too,
been waiting to get you excited and so saying she started giving me a blow job,
slow and soft, confess she had a warm breath that sent hot air around my penis
making it harden even further and soon I was gasping and
groaning and making noises that only sex and lust can create and she too was
not far behind.
In fact her sounds were
worrying me , she was being a little too loud ! But, such worries became
irrelevant one she threw all her clothes out and decided to ride on top of me
so she spread her thighs wide and I could see her clean shaven vagina, her flat
belly, her tummy navel and her soft, fluffy breast ( they weren't too large,
they looked just right for her age ) and as she made her moves she was smiling
that naughty smile of hers which i was beginning to recognise while also
throwing a piercing look through my own gaze, waving her eye brows up and down
and silently miming out ' are you liking it' without waiting for an answer.
We just pounded like two
naked steam engines thrusting against each other - one thrusting up the other
pressing down, both were sweating in the humidity that settles after a bout of
heavy rain, wow!
We seemed to go and on !
And in the frenzy and lusty energy unknown to us we both fell off the cot like
two live and fleshy stones, she even hit her head on the floor ( i'm sure it
would have hurt )
Thud!
But She showed no signs
of any pain and we simply continued rolling - i only hoped my Mom wouldn't hear
our rompous sounds, also hoped the people on the streets wouldn't over hear our
lusty shouts ( since my attic room was facing the street ) and so I tried
everything possible to muffle out the sounds - I held her mouth everytime she
was about to scream, stifling it to the extent possible, I also clamped my own
lips inwardly to shut out my sounds, but once we both reached our climax we
almost woke the whole village up !
Is what I thought but
then Thankfully it just seemed that we both held out our hands - one holding
the others mouth shut - and managed to pass that electric moment of orgasmic
voltage without much decibel attention.
And at that final
moment, when everything turns dark and one just sees that silver light flashing
Tarzan was breathing like he had just finished the Boston marathon, fighting
for breath, eyes closed tight, he felt that someone was washing his whole body
with some white liquid like a kerala massage oil flowing from your head to your
toe he felt this strange liquid flowing through his skin warm and soft and like
a lubricant made of soft fruits like palm fruit.
It was a while before he
regained consciousness , he looked around and slowly checked the light around ,
felt like it was afterrnoon but since his room was so tightly closed to all
sorts of light he could only see some element of sunlight from the cracks of
his windows and tiles above.
Somewhere he could hear
a loud bike speeding and soon there were a number of other sounds like
automobile horns and hawkers and cycle ricksaw bells and such other sounds that
one can only hear in a crowded Indian bazaar - now wait a minute, where the
fuck am i ?
And just when he was
about to shake himself out of his revelrie he felt someone was watching him,
Tarzan froze for a moment - was the warm fluid that he had felt when he was
experiencing his orgasm by any chance the blood flowing from a dead corpse
?
From the body of the
girl he had killed ?
Did he indulge in
necromania ? did he actually have sex with a girl who he had murdered
?
DID I KILL THAT GIRL
??
Was he hearing sirens
???
Just as Tarzan raised
his head to familiarise himself further about his situation, he saw Phantom
watching him from the deep corner of the room, he was masked, had his hands
folded and was sitting what looked like a meditative pose - except for the fact
that his gaze was fixed on me.
In that dark room, his
masked gaze resembled a black cat watching a victim rat squirm after it was
more or less shred apart physically and mentally.
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