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Late Night Fantasy
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.
Archive-name: LateNightFant
My first attempt at anything resembling erotica (actually, my second; th'
first was this story, but I lost it so I had to rewrite it).
Comments/criticism are not only welcome but encouraged.
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Midnight. Nearly through the quarter, and these programming assignments are
killing me. Granted, this is certainly not the latest I've ever stayed up,
but tonight, I couldn't feel more incapacitated. My head is a muzzy blur; it
feels as though it's been wrapped in cotton, and that may sound pleasant, but
try seeing through it, thinking through it. Typing on autopilot, I've little
faith that I can finish this tonight.
Three-something... I wasn't even aware that I had dozed off until the slam of
the door jolts me up through the haze. My head jerks upright, and it's all I
can do to keep my balance and stay in my chair. I look around -- eyes milky
and bloodshot, I'm sure -- to see her. What on Earth she's doing here this
late, I've no idea. I might even be dismayed at having her see me like this,
were I not so nearly unconscious; after all, many have been the nights that
I've dreamed of her, and not all those dreams while sleeping. As it is
though, I can't even be sure that she noticed me. And I must sleep. I ease
myself down onto the couch, drifting back down...
The battlefield looks like something out of a Civil War movie, and the witch
is at the top of the hill, surrounded by villagers. It is the job of myself
and one other guy, each at opposite endsof the clearing, to keep her from
escaping. She looks at him, and charms him: he'll put up no resistance. She
tries it on me, but I manage to keep my eyes crossed, and she cannot get into
my mind. Nevertheless, all the people seem to have dispersed, and she makes a
run for it. I run after her, tackling her to the ground. She has the
misfortune to have fallen next to an axe, and, as there continues to be a lack
of people around me, I take it up and prepare to destroy her.
As she's turned into a book, I begin to tear out her pages, reciting Carroll
by means of protection. "The jaws that bite," I begin, tearing out a toothy
page, and, fingers on the next page, shaped like a long talon, I continue, "the
jaws that catch!"
The scene around me has become an Amtrak station, and I realize simultaneously
that my train is coming and that I am naked. Bent on destroying the
witch-book once and for all, I throw her on the tracks to be shredded by the
train's wheels. There will be no time to gather my clothes before the train
leaves, so I cast about for something in which to wrap myself. Finally, clad
in an old brown towel, I take my seat on the train. Sitting back to relax, I
suddenly feel the towel climbing my body, seeking my neck, rising to strangle
me...
Rising too quickly from a dream can't give one the bends, but it is terribly
disorienting all the same. I reach up to my neck, prepared to fight off the
towel, only to encounter another's arm. I am aware of her body next to mine,
her warmth and tangibility at every point where our bodies make contact, and
WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I wonder, alarmed, as I realize who it is and what she
appears to be doing, but fortunately I am too unconscious yet for the question
to become sound.
She is here, and she is with me, and I suddenly feel very comfortably warm,
enveloped, and as she kisses me, a full, expressive, trusting kiss, I find
that it is love which is all around us, caressing our bodies like a thick,
soothing bath, womblike; we are in love, and not the fleeting emotion thats
been trampled and abused and maligned in the real world, but a thing, this
love, a fluid, and we are IN it, and she is moving her neck up to meet my lips
and it is touching, knowing
I feel the tenseness of her nipples drag through the hair in my chest, as
sharp as skin gets, and now I know that we are both naked, though when this
happened I can't be sure. Her breasts are small and happy, my hands closing
on them softly to feel their heat, their pulse, the blood flowing through
them, and the love, as if they were conductors, sending a current of emotion
and passion from her heart through my hands. She brings them up to meet my
mouth and I accept, sucking a nipple in and tasting the unique flavor of that
smooth pink skin. My eyes, throughout all of this, remain closed, bleary
images creeping anyway, the love-fluid seeping under my eyelids, infecting me,
happiness filling my soul, obliterating all else.
Her hand slides down my stomach to the hardness there, and her weight shifts
over me, an as I feel the wetness, the warmth engulf me, she kisses me again,
completing a circuit, making a perfect ring of that feeling, and the slow
sweet movement speeds up the circulation. Now it isn't just one part of her
body, or mine; we are both of us conductors in entirety, drenched in our
passion, and the borders begin to melt, her body into mine and mine into hers,
into a single whole, and all that is within us is love, and all that is
without us is love, and then there is no us, no within no without there is
only love and oh it is like laughing running flying knowing being loving
IamohIamohIam
the whole me, my truest self
(hello)
(i've missed you)
(please, for this one moment)
(please don't cry)
color sensation emotion purity lovelovelove with the rush of speed in my ears
I am a particle of light, growing until I pass through every point in the
universe, and then the universe is too small to contain me, and with a
deafening explosion I am here again and small and blind and cying, and we are
no longer one but two and she holds me but never tight enough as I sink back
into myself, exhausted and no longer able to marshall my consciousness...
A hard crack to my skull jars me out of my sleep, concrete cold and unyielding
against my feverish forehead. I try to shake the stars out of my head, but
moving my neck hurts more, so I stop and stand -- dressed -- shakily next to
my chair. Wait a minute, I wonder sleepily. What was I doing in my chair?
The last time I fell asleep was on that couch, right after she came in...
Right after she...
Resigned, I stagger over to the couch and lay prone once again, determined now
to sleep. She was never here, it was all a dream... she was never even here.
I begin to drift off once again, wondering if the Jabberwock can ever truly
die...
The door slides the last three inches, closing violently.
SOMEone was here... Someone WAS here! I jump to my feet, throwing it open
and vaulting through, lookig wildly about...
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