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Patterns
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.
Subject: story: Patterns
This is my first try at something "erotic". see what you think
Running a fingertip across her sleek white body, I feel an
exquisite silkiness, an undefined electricity that tempts my being,
pulling me closer to understand it. I shiver visibly as my finger trails
over her rear and then across her flat hard belly. I see my reflection as
I look deep into her soul, such complexities, and I am frightened by what
it is that she does to me. I am quite transformed when I am inside of her.
I change into something that does not exist outside of her. So many times
we have meshed, creating our own interval within which we generate a new
being, a new existence.
Trembling I allow myself to enter and we begin our journey onto
something that exists only as a part of us both. I can feel her power, the
very root of the source where this power swirls up and out from. She
growls, deeply and I sigh, "Lets go, I am impatient today". I reach out
and touch her again and a resonating grumble leaps from her lips. A feral
rhythm begins to evolve and I can feel it repeating deep within my chest.
Soon I instinctively begin to respond with a passion that is on the verge
of a desperate loss of control, we begin to push, accelerate, and then we
are flying through the night. I can feel the speed in her body, shaking
and trembling runs through my muscles and bones, as I push her into high
gear, tires grasping tightly at the dusty ground, hurtling us into the
undefined sea of darkness that is night for us in this interval. I look
out and see others ahead, some moving faster others more slowly, forming a
pattern that is not yet clear. I let the beat and rhythm integrate within
me and I push harder. I feel the acceleration in my head, I lean back
against the cushion and look ahead with half closed eyes and begin to
search out the pattern. My body settles in and soon I am numb to all but
her sounds and vibrations.
I see a break in the pattern to one side and I push through,
wondering what the others feel as we roar past, putting distance down like
forgotten moments, briefly perceived but soon dropped for the next living
moment. I watch behind and ahead for any others who might be following,
enticed by the speed. Nothing, no one notices our wild passion. Hours
later, my body is gone and I feel only her under my hand and see only
those shadows around me on the road. We are moving south and I can almost
feel as if we are falling down, away from the north, away from the
mountains, into the flatlands that lay ahead. Many of the others have
stopped for the night, fallen asleep or stopped to catch a breath, I push
on and wonder if the others still on the road are beginning to feel as I
do, separate, alone, quiet. Over the past few hours a few cars have taken
me on, keeping pace, or even accelerating past at some greater speed and
on some higher plane.
I feel the impatience well up again, once it was merely quelled by
the acceleration of our movements but now it asks for more. I see that we
are 100 miles from the next town and I can feel its draw, I push harder,
pushing time and ourselves to the edge. I pass someone, and then move over
in front, sensing that I have slowed slightly and now ride at some
distance in front of the other car. We top a rise and down we speed, and I
notice that the other car has crossed over and engaged my pace. He moves
in front and settles back into our lane. I lean my head back and through
squinted eyes I watch his speed, measuring how he takes curves and
overtakes slower moving cars. I accelerate, pushing her and I feel an
urgent desperate need to overtake him, overcome his speed and tell him
with our speed that we will not be dominated, not be beaten down. I feel a
passion heat my face as I pass him, thinking that he may be looking over
at this passing car wondering what lies within. Once past him I shoot on
and then come over into his lane and ride at the engagement pace. I savor
the feeling that I have, knowing that she and I have successfully passed
him and pushed ourselves to a speed that would have frightened us before.
We have made time our own in that interval and we had control over our own
being. As I am enveloped in this thought, feeling her glide over the road,
cutting sharply into the velvet darkness ahead a flash of light pierces
out and I can see that he has moved over and begun to accelerate. I
consider accelerating to directly confront him but I am already traveling
at such speeds that I fear I might be forced to loose control. I know that
this is his way to best me, as I did him, but I acknowledge that I can not
match this pace and I let him go. I feel cold and dark within, I have lost
control. I see him push on ahead and then move over into my lane, slowing
to preserve the engagement we have developed. We approach a hill and he
pushes hard to overtake it and widens the gap between us, I can feel the
space widen and I react with a sense of desperate need, if I loose him
then my speed will not be a measured thing, there will be little passion
in my effort. I maintain the distance at some expense, he speeds to 80 at
times, yet I will not let him go, I will not let the engagement end.
During this time I begin to realize that it is not his participation in
this engagement but rather my own feelings of inadequacies and lost
ability to maintain my being as an individual without a relative framework
predicated on external realities that make me feel the desperation. I see
this pattern and feel relieved that I have seen the root of the
desperation, a place that is within me and thus a place that I can enter
and restructure Soon I grow tired of the exchange, I become numb again,
he is too predictable, I know his pattern, so I speed past him and beyond.
I notice him far back, speeding but I do not slow to play the game and I
soon loose him into the background of all the others and I am alone again,
quiet. I feel her slide over the miles, purring and strong.
Staring at the line, I loose myself into her hum but then am
awoken suddenly by something shooting by, red and blurred. Instinctively
we accelerate to match the red. I see that the car is far ahead but I push
on, closing the gap. I come in closer and see him passing a huge
semi-truck, then I too pass the truck, feeling the rumble of its engine
shake us. He is far ahead again and seems to be going even faster. I push
but he slips over a hill and soon is gone altogether. I sigh then look
back to see that the truck is now behind me but keeping pace. Occasionally
it moves into my lane to pass a car but remains for the most part in the
other lane. We ride like this for miles, I can almost hear its engine
growling behind us, a sort of scratchy feeling on the back of my neck,
knowing that it is there and that it is pushing itself to maintain such a
speed.
Abruptly, ahead there are many more trucks and cars packed tight
together, going slowly. Trucks seem to be riding on the tails of the cars,
pushing them to move out of the way. Cars riding in the fast lane insist
on riding slowly, their drivers half asleep at the wheel not seeing the
dangerous situation mounting around them. I can feel the tension between
the huge trucks as they close in and squeeze the slower cars, cooperating
in a game of intimidation. I look back and can see my truck coming over
into my lane, we are both unwilling to slow for this mess ahead but we
both slow any way. I come up to the car ahead and see that it is the red
car, also caught up in this tangle, pushing the car ahead, weaving in and
out a bit hoping to see what is the cause of this squeeze. I look up at
the truckers and see that they are giving a cold stare at a car several
hundred yards up. My truck behind me moves in very close, contributing to
the squeeze. I push hard too, nudging the red car to push harder still.
Suddenly the red car breaks the rhythm of the tangle and shoots over in
front of a truck in the slow lane freeing space in front of me. I speed in
to close the gap and can see the slow car immediately in front of me. The
red car moves on ahead and then cuts in front of the slow car in my lane
while I creep in tight, my trucker creeping in tight after me. I look at
the slow car and the driver sees that I am pushing him, invading his
space, put the a deep red passion as filled my eyes, I resent the audacity
that this car has too create this tangle, and to not even notice the
energy building behind and around him. His impertinence irritates me such
that I can not stand that he has any control over me and the rhythm of the
pattern. I push in tighter. The trucker behind keeps pace and almost lends
a sense of strength, I feel that we have to push this slow car over and
not let him break our pattern that has existed for so many miles. The slow
car begins to accelerate and I do the same. He accelerates again, I do the
same. Soon the trucks in the slow lane who had been keeping pace see the
change and drop back to let him over. Slowly and with much reluctance he
moves over and I shoot past, the truck behind me screaming as it
accelerates with me to pass this car.
We shudder as we are freed into the cool black night, away from
the tangle and I can see it disappearing quietly, far behind. Now I ride
alone with her, I caress the wheel and feel her smooth breathing as we
slip silently on into the darkness, shooting on, falling down into the
south and numbing out into a single line and hum.
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