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Various Bedtimes
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
PART TWO: Various bedtimes
Early February 1982
The Bandit rubbed his eyes and put down the book, tucking his pen in
it for a bookmark. He sighed gustily and looked at the closed door to the
living room. Muffled sounds of conversation were coming from outside,
interspersed with shouts of raucous laughter: Conan, having some fun at the
expense of one of the Wiz's folks, no doubt. There was no sign of Zero; it was
becoming obvious that he'd be spending tonight in Diva's room. Bummer.
On impulse, the Bandit walked swiftly to his cassette rack and
withdrew an album that he almost never played any more. He popped it
into the deck, pulled on his headphones, and began to disrobe.
"Oh very young, what will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this Earth for a short while,
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...."
"Come to bed, liebchen," Diva smiled, stretching out languidly on
the narrow mattress. Her body wasn't a pin-up artist's wet dream by
any means: a bit heavy in the hips and thighs, just a hint of a double
chin. But her heavy breasts and sinuous torso had an appeal all their
own, as did the tawny patch of hair just above her swollen labia.
She licked her lips. "I'm thirsty."
Zero smiled at her as he undid the buckle on his belt and dropped
his pants to the floor. His straining underwear was stretched even
more out of shape than usual, and he walked over to her and waved the
huge bulge in front of her as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I can go get
you a glass of water from the bathroom," he offered politely. "Or did
you have something else in mind?"
"Hmmmm...." She rolled over onto her side, facing him and
propping up her head on one elbow. She licked her lips again, reaching
out with her free hand and giving the waistband of his underpants a
tiny tug. The huge, throbbing mass under the cloth shifted position
and tried frantically to escape, but didn't quite make it. She laughed
lightly at the spectacle, and ran a caressing hand over the
scarcely-covered testicles, weighing them gently. With another gentle
tug, she finally pulled the waistband over the tremendous obstruction
keeping his underwear on, and the pants fell to the ground.
Zero's penis was a terrifying club of throbbing meat dangling in
her face, as big around as a kolbassi and nearly ten inches long. It
was the kind of penis one tended to see in porn flicks, the sort of
equipment that always seemed to belong to the men submitting their
life histories to the Penthouse Forum. Most of the men who saw it
coming out of the shower or in the locker room turned pale and got
very quiet, suddenly selfconscious. Even Conan, who was put together
like a stunt double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, said of it, "All that
meat on that skinny little guy.... it's just not fair! He probably
can't even manage a hard-on without passing out!"
That obviously wasn't the case, as Diva could readily attest. It
was true, the weight of the organ was such that it never stood up at
more than a horizontal position even when fully hard, but that didn't
matter to her. All that mattered was where it went, and what it did
when it got there. She stuck her tongue out as far as it would go, and
licked the underside of the shaft, from the base to the tip of the
swollen purple glans, and smacked her lips delightedly. "Finger me,"
she said, "Finger me while I suck you dry."
Zero slid a teasing hand down the length of her belly and over
her pubic mound, searching for her clitoris. It was already oozing and
swollen as he touched it; there was no question but that she'd been
playing with it already before he'd gotten in. She was in no mood to
waste time that night, he decided, and proceeded to slide two fingers
into her slick crack as deeply as they could go. Diva grunted loudly,
gently caught the huge head of the bobbing member between her parted
lips, and teased the slit with the tip of her tongue, tasting the
sticky pre-come there. His fingers were finishing her work of the past
three hours, and she felt her orgasm surging up in her like a wave of
molten lead. She smiled around the huge knob between her lips, looked
up at Zero with wide blue eyes like a child asking for praise, and
inhaled sharply.
It had taken months of practice with dildoes, but she'd learned
to relax her throat muscles and take his entire penis down her throat
without gagging, a trick none of his old girlfriends could ever have
matched. It made him her slave; he couldn't say no to her loving
mouth, and the fact that the act made him seem the dominant one only
put a touch of kink in the total control she exercised. But tonight
she was too close to coming to bother with teasing him. Her strong
inhalation sucked the entire pulsing member into her waiting mouth and
down her throat, all the way down to the base. She heaved up on the
bed, hands on his buttocks, scrotum flapping rhythmically against her
dripping chin, and tried her best to swallow his penis whole. And when
she felt him hit bottom, she began to hum.
That was all it took. Zero groaned and his legs shook as he
dumped a huge load of semen directly into her stomach, and her humming
turned into a confused series of muffled screams and gagging noises as
she came all over his hand, the warm flow of liquid in her belly
sending her over the edge. Zero, unable to endure the excess of
stimulation, pulled his shaft from her mouth, and she coughed up a
thin stream of semen after it, a grey line that trickled down her chin
and onto her breast. She grabbed the still-rigid rod and pulled as
hard as she could, milking more fluid from it as she pulled him down
atop her and tried to feed his length into her sopping vagina.
"Now that I've lost everything to you,
You say you want to start something new,
And it's breaking my heart, you're leaving,
And baby I'm grieving...."
Teenie stared at the ceiling in the darkness, arms at her sides,
legs tightly together. I wonder where he is tonight, she thought. Is
he lonely? Does he miss me? Or will he just haul out one of those
disgusting magazines from under the bed and pull on himself until he
forgets about me? Probably. That miserable son of a bitch. I did the
right thing, leaving him.
She rolled over and looked out the window at the drifting snow.
It had been snowing heavily for nearly a week now, and there was more
to come. She shivered. It was cold, even under her blankets. She
frowned; it hadn't always been this cold at night. But of course not;
she'd had him in bed with her then, cradling her in his arms and
saying how he'd loved her....
"Not tonight, Bandit. Please?"
"Sure, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to. Sleep well."
And that was all. No nasty hints, no pleas, no angry words or
threats. And later that night, when she was drifting in and out of
sleep, she remembered the sudden splash of something warm on her back,
the gentle hand that wiped away the stain, the kiss on her shoulder
blade. He'd gotten what he wanted anyway. He always did.
"I don't miss him." She said it out loud to the dark. "He used me
as a sex object. I don't need him. The Rainbow Wizard was right. He
just uses people, and throws them away. I'm better off alone now. I
am...."
She rolled over again, and started suddenly to find a furtive
hand betwen her thighs. Angrily she moved her hand elsewhere, and
firmly shut her eyes. I'll say twenty Hail Marys tomorrow, she
decided, and go to Confession.
"Oh, I can't keep it in,
I can't keep it in I gotta let it out,
I gotta show the world, world's gotta see,
See all the love, love that's in me...."
Livewire staggered through the snow, singing to off-key to
himself. His breath was thick with beer and vomit, and the front of
his parka was stained. He fell forward into the snow and lay there,
panting.
I gotta get up. My face is cold, I got snow down my pants, man,
that really sucks serious dick. Shit. I'm tired. Maybe I should take a
nap or some shit, just rest a minute. I'll get up in a second. I'll
count to three. I'll count to ten. I'll count to three. One. two--
"Whugghh," he said, scrambling to hands and knees and heaving
beer and half-digested hamburgers into the snow. He wiped his mouth
with one hand and got to his feet, weaving. Up ahead, through the
snow, he could barely make out the front of the Eastern Habitat. He
stumbled forward wearily, one hand outstretched before him. There were
the front doors, up ahead, and there were the steps, and there-- he
unconsciously counted up four floors and over two windows-- was HER
window. SHE was asleep, looked like. Or she was fucking some football
player or some shit up there. Yeah! Fucking some football player while
he was stuck out here in the cold! Mother FUCKER!
"MOTHER FUCKER! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIEEEEEEEE---"
Livewire went face down into the snow again, retching. At long
last, the last of the beer gone, he crawled up the steps and onto the
porch. He got one hand onto the door handle, and pulled feebly. The
door hadn't latched properly when the last resident had come in, and
so it opened with a click. He pulled himself inside, smiled happily at
the warmth of the air as the door shut and locked behind him, and
finally, mercifully, passed out.
"Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the one Light Eden saw play...."
The Rainbow Wizard held Mary Magdalene in his lap, gently
bouncing her up and down, up and down. Her smooth, wet pussy
alternately clasped and released his manhood, and he gently suckled on
her breast as she threw her head back and sighed in utter ecstasy.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Their whispers were a litany of love under the ceiling poster of
astrological signs that served as a canopy for Mary Magdalene's bed.
Unicorns adorned every wall, and posters of fantasy heroes with swords
and bloodied shields hung on the door and beneath the window. A quartz
crystal dangled before the single lit candle in the room, casting
multiple sparks of rainbow light over the two intertwined bodies.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Over and over again, the words were repeated, chewed into
meaningless mantric syllables as the surges of sexual release ebbed
and flowed forward, surged up and receded, never allowing release,
again and again and again....
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Mary Magdalene felt the beginnings of his orgasm, the tightening
in his legs, the swelling in his loins, the thin sheen of sweat on his
face. She smiled at his expression, glad of his joy, and began to
accelerate her thrusts.
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
"I LOVE you!"
Suddenly he tensed, his legs splaying outward, and gasped as his
seed filled her to the brim and overflowed, sweet, sticky, glowing
faintly in the dim light. The hot fluid scalded her insides, bringing
on a sudden orgasm for her as well, swift, sharp as a dagger, and as
suddenly gone.
"I--ugh--LOVE YOU!"
"UH! AH! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU....."
She fell forward across him, her carpet of black hair
extinguishing the candle, and kissed the long scar from his collarbone
to his groin as he fell into a deep sleep. Lovingly, with a
worshiper's care, she lapped up the softly glowing semen from his
shrinking penis, licking it clean, then snuggled up against him in the
darkness. Her final whisper was a benediction.
"I love you...."
"Now that I've passed your test,
How could I lie to you baby, I'll never make you sad...."
Twink laughed merrily, clutching her sides and rolling on the
floor at Conan's latest joke. Of course, she hadn't "gotten" it, at
least she she didn't think she had, but she'd learned it was safer to
pretend. When she asked what things meant, people always groaned and
looked funny at her, and that was no fun at all.
Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet, and said, "Oh, Conan, that
was a scream! I love hearing your jokes."
"Great," Conan grinned, knowing damn well that she was trying to
hide the fact that she was totally clueless. God damn, what a total
airhead! How could anyone get as far as she did without learning
*something* about what was what, anyway?
"Is the Bandit coming back soon?" She phrased the question as
casually as she could.
"He's already asleep," Conan replied, inclining his head toward
the closed door to the room the Bandit shared with Zero.
"Oh!" Twink got up hastily, smoothing the skirt of her
nightdress. "Then I guess I should be going; I just wanted to talk to
him, that's why I came down here...."
"Well, there's me. Why don't you stick around for a while?" Conan
smiled winningly and stretched, flexing his muscles.
Twink looked into his eyes, her smile a frozen mask. She was
remembering the last time she'd stayed around with Conan to wait for
the Bandit: the dark, sweaty room, the awful, awful....THING
stretching her poor mouth out of shape, the taste of mucus and
something else, his voice: "Don't use your teeth, you stupid bitch!
SUCK on it, don't try to chew it up!"
"Thanks," she said with feeling, "But I'd die first." She cast
one longing look at the shut door keeping her from the Bandit, and
fled into the hallway.
Conan watched her leave, sighing. Women, he thought to himself.
What a fucked-up species. He opened the door to his half of the quad,
and noted that neither the Rainbow Wizard nor Mary Magdalene was
anywhere to be found. He sighed again. Well, he thought, dropping his
pants, at least I can beat off without having to listen to them
whisper sweet nothings to each other all night. Now where'd I leave
that copy of Hustler?
"Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody,
I got some money 'cause I just got paid,
How I wish I had someone to talk to,
I'm in an awful way."
The Bandit pulled off the headphones angrily and hurled them
across the room. "Fuck that shit," he muttered, rolling over and
closing his eyes.
Across the room, the cassette deck finished playing the album in
a soft whir, and calmly shut itself off.
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