A dirty little secret
A dastardly deed
A hidden desire
We all have a bad side......
the hallucinative saga of a wild woman
"What do you want from me?"
"What would you rather keep?"
Fear crept int his voice. Which was odd. HE never felt fear. HE was far far to tough for that. Especially in the wake of some woman. HE made women weak. He made them swoon and groan. He knew how to take a woman and turn her inside out and back again without a misstep.
Remembering his conquests, his fear subsided and a wicked smile played at the edge of his full lips. Reaching up to his chin, his long fingers caressed the sexy stubble and closed his eyes. He knew he looked good. Deep blue eyes with thick long lashes set in a rugged, strong jawed face. He knew that combination of olive skin, black hair, and blue eyes drove some women mad with desire at a mere glance from him. He’d seen them fight each other off just to get a barstool closer. He’d convinced many a lady to leave her gal pals at the club while the two of them snuck off to some nearby hotel for a midnight frolic. He could not help but laugh at the many, many morning after "I love yous" and the "When can we see each other agains." What fools they must have been to think that a cheap, although excellent thrill would last longer than his last thrust and howl. But this time he had broken his cardinal rul
"What would you rather keep?"
His eye lids snapped open. His eyes cleared their ruminations. In a split second of confusion he furtively gazed around the her bedroom -decidedly not his taste with its Greek statuary and marbled tiling. He had forgotten that she was there. Lost in the good times of past sex and immediate dumps, he had forgotten she had spoken at all. Something about the way she said it bothered him. It sent fingers of frost along the back of his neck and down his otherwise masculine arms. He stared into her eyes.
She was gorgeous. A true bombshell of a woman. A man couldn’t call her a lady because nothing about her said such. She was bigger than life. More gorgeous than a magazine and certainly more high class than any video vixen or Playboy bunny. No, she wasn’t the type to call a "lady." Yet, tramp or any other demeaning adjective would be equally as horrible. No, she was a woman. He reached over to touch her auburn hair. Spread out on the pillow and over her arm as she propped it up. The silken hair floated form his fingers pack into the titillating array from which he lifted it. She was truly beautiful.
She on the other hand simply looked at him. All the passion and sexual energy drained out of her (he could still feel the stiffness from where she had bite his neck in the urgency of her passion), she merely looked at him, through him, but with intensely so. It was odd. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she could really care less about him now that they had released some steam, yet, at the same time she seemed throughly absorbed with some intangible aspect of himself that he did not understand. She had a pull on him that was different. Not love. Not a desire for monogamy. But something other worldly, disturbing yet intriguing. Something a real man like himself could appreciate as his equal.. Possibly his better? He shook that thought from his mind and rolled to his side, facing this boudoir goddess.
"What do you want from me?" He snugged himself further into the sheets. He tried for the usual light hearted flippancy. But, it rang hollow as it bounced from the stone and the women in the bed. Her gaze didn’t waver. There was no sign or sense that she even registered his answer. She simply continued to stare at, through him. It unnerved him. And the anxiety in his voice reverberated.
"I don’t know what you want, woman, but I can tell you that I’m not the marrying kind." He tried to take the edge off by chuckling and sliding his strong hand down the her exposed side.
"What would you rather keep?"
Without hesitation he rolled her to her back, spread her lithe thighs, and pinned her arms beside her head . He planted himself squarely between them and thrust onward. This always shut them up, he thought to himself. With a hard rhythm he ground himself into her.
"This is what I want to keep, woman." He crashed and rocked and thrust until sweat dropped down onto her chest and the bed frame pounded against the wall. She took the ride. He thought he saw a glint of heat flash across her face as he spent himself. Finished, he ripped himself from her body and flopped to his side of her bed.
"Is that what you long to keep?" The eerie quality of her voice crashed down on him life an avalanche.
"Yes."
Those three words sparked her. She seemed to grow within her own skin. Vitality and hungry returned and she passionately began to stroke him to renewed vigor. He felt himself stiffen. HE felt the blood rush to his rod, pumping him up for a 3 round. With each throb she revived and grew and changed. She was wild; like an uncaged thing she aroused him.
He wanted to take her again roughly like lions on the savannah. When he went to assert himself, he felt heavy. He couldn’t move. His legs seemed weighted down. Has she tied him in the frenzy? He laughed half heartedly, "Common’ now. No fair: I need you, woman."
You need no one. You said you wanted to keep this." He could no longer feel her once warm fingers. Her words began to hiss. He distinctly saw the tip of a forked tongue as she spoke.
"You wanted this. A rod, a piece so full and standing. I’ve made sure that you have it forever." Her laughter resounded from the stone. It echoed with the hisses and writhing. Her red hair wriggled with twisting bodies and flipping tongues. Her skin, once pale and luminous turned greed and scaley. Her eyes, riveting and alluring morphed into cat like slits with elongated pupils. "You long for the eternal power to be at attention, the eternal screw. Your wish has been granted."
Wicked laughter and hissing mocked him as the stiffness from his loins spread to his limbs. Horror over came him as his body slowly transformed to olive marble with blue and black veins. Before his eyes solidified he noticed the terror stricken looks on the faces of the other statues.
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