Message-ID: <25620asstr$965131806@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "seanfarragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Importance: Normal Subject: {ASSM} from TxM6 Another "Dirty Incest Story Date: Tue, 1 Aug 2000 08:10:06 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, apuleius, IceAltar From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel http://www.taximurders.com/ TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only. Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher Laurie/Marylise Another "Dirty" Incest Story "Dreams continue, Dear Henry," Laurie said. "I am your daughter. My name is Marylise." At one pause in the dream, Laurie suggested more than incest to Henry. Pretending to be Henry's actual fifteen year old daughter, Marylise, Laurie played the mental edge she had known as a child. Whispering in Henry's ear while they fucked, she rubbed the taboo against Henry's ass. Thrusting her tongue inside, speaking between gasps, using two fingers and sometimes three, she drove her fingers inside to the second knuckle. Penetrating his throat, she rutted his sphincter driving his pump soft in a more difficult and less satisfying ejaculation. "Fuck Marylise," Laurie screamed when Henry came. "You cannot refuse her. Just show some interest. She will actually help you get over your revulsion. Find out what you have missed. No one gets second chances." "Henry darling," Remember when you drove me home from the school back in '80. I had stayed after school to talk with you but I missed the late bus. I lied when I told you my mother didn't have a car. You could have had me and Marylise that evening. You laughed at my suggestion to have dinner. I don't know why you laughed. Mother was there." You say it never happened. That's bullshit. Remember last year, you corrected my journal for 1980 and pointed out I was 14 not fifteen. I had written my age in the margin with the calendar year and date. Assuming, I was born October 20, 1965, in April 1980, I would have been 14 and not fifteen. Now that I had have added Marylise to our fantasy, you don't remember. You have no reason to be afraid. Nothing happened. "I simply do not recall," Henry insisted. I am not worried. My reputation is fully blemished, just don't know why I am so proud of it," Henry added touching Laurie's face, rubbing an extraneous curl of lipstick from her mouth." "Henry, fuck no, you have to accept. I insist that you do. Remember how I showed you my thighs in class, pulling my dress up. I brushed my tits against your arm when you helped me getting out of your car. You recall how my mother was laughing. I just told her I wanted to fuck you. Mother Helena would have welcomed you. " Calling Henry, Laurie tells Henry what it was like to fuck Marylise back in 1980. You "would have been 38. I can bring you back there, show you. I have the video tapes of my memory. Things that could have happened but did not." Pulling the videos out, they unravel by themselves. Laurie in a rage collects them, losing order; she runs mad. "I can live it all," she yells at Henry. "I am the spirit mother the good mother, the dead mother, and the fucken mother of the earth. " Marylise remember, I am the mother. We are trinity. My clit arranged in pure spirit fucks the holy sigh." [Loud noises appear in the background. Car muffler and a door closing.] "Quiet, out there, no interruptions. "Listen, Henry, this is important. If Marylise resists, I will hold her down while you fuck her. I will hold both of us in the mix of that intercourse." "Henry," Laurie said. "I am Marylise." DREAM Marylise and Laurie stood on the top of the mountain. Henry reached high toward the skin reflecting light from the top of the broken crest. Nothing paused. The storms grew louder as Marylise and Henry waited to be swept away. Neither waves nor calm ravaged uterus or prostate. There was no fucking. Marylise could not be passed through the isles of childhood. Held in space as any fifteen year old girl with a million year mind, she was an ordinary teenager. Marylise materialized only in dreams. Murder as a morality play character has only accomplice. Marylise preferred to preach about the evil of serial murder. She told the story of the sociopath, the Man Called Abel. She said the brains of the scheme was his half sister, the Woman called Lilith . Laurie repeated the questions often. It helped her remember. Abel and Lilith will capture us but we will defeat them, she told Abel. Marylise, meanwhile was blowing in Laurie's ear. MARYLISE Marylise was dark black inside Laurie's auburn hair. Her white skin and black eyes burned when she was flashing her cunt to beat cops or sucking Detectives for protection. Laurie desired Marylise. It was more than masturbation. Laurie lifted her skin and opened the next page. Laurie was pleased Marylise had started. Towering over 5 foot two Marylise, six foot Laurie carried an arbor of and trellis of ordinary white and red wild roses. The blooms were much smaller, and the plants seem emaciated. Laurie laughed winding Marylise into a funeral wreath. No, Marylise does not die. Laurie will survive and Aaron and Henry will fuck again Angela alone and together. When sexually provoked, Marylise does flash her teeth appearing ferocious. Rising from the wicker chair where they sat, together, hand in hand, one or the other, either Laurie or Marylise would levitate to the most distant place in the room. Moments later, after their flight, they reversed directions. That oscillation can never be stopped by any act of will. Laurie loved how she came in alternating pulses. This is the story how Laurie became, indecently her own discipline. "I am more than Victoria Secret" she claimed. "I love wearing that silly pull em up push em up bra." When Laurie swallowed Marylise's cunt, she pushed down on herself to swallow her own cock and pussy in one gulp. Shaking from the inside, Laurie waited for miracles now that she had paid for it. Nothing transformed and Marylise called Henry a liar and Laurie an ignorant cunt. No one really cared about the names people used when they ran out of explanations for "Laurie's miracle, as her acts were called by the people of North York in Toronto. "See what happens Laurie, Marylise screamed when you tell anyone about what has happened." Marylise believed that if they shared the dreams, they might lose control. Marylise insisted that Laurie not to tell Henry. In turn, Laurie said of course not to Marylise, but then showed Henry the trails of childhood. Marylise held her breath promising to drop dead and disappeared. LAURIE I must teach Henry how to touch Marylise. She is my opposite. I know it confuses Henry when I respond differently every time we make love. Have I told you that Marylise has eyes like oxides of Tin and Bismuth Henry, kneel to our hands. Hold me up while you lick my cunt from the inside to the outside. Marylise, show Henry your tits, Laurie directed. They're so much larger than mine, right Henry. Won't they keep you busy. Imagine she is 15 and wears a 38D bra. A great noise sounded. Henry falls on his knees to suck all four tits at once. "See that how he acted, Marylise . . . that's instinct. When he sucks, Henry's a child growing smaller, and his bite can contain your tit until he drowns. Henry nurses, and Laurie watches Henry curling his fingers round her neck, opening and closing his fist just like an infant. Henry tells Marylise he will photograph her if she likes. Are you 12 or 14? MARYLISE Marylise returns and speaks directly. She's pissed. "Laurie, come here. Henry cannot hear. I do not want you to share our mind with him. I must be kept private. Feed him all of you as a diversion. Forget our tits and cunts. Let him lead, but you direct his dreams. Just leave me out of this, Laurie. Leave me the fuck alone. HENRY There is no God in Laurie or Marylise. I have collected all the myths. The first time I fucked Laurie was at a party for some blow dealer Laurie knew in Soho. Stoned on European hash, the evening was more drugs than a fucking although an orgy was openly taken place in a room without a door off the long old fashion hallway inside the pre war apartment where Laurie and I had crashed. Three girls, one straight guy and an extra short gay madman were fucking in a daisy chain. The madman giggling begged Laurie to fuck his ass with an eighteen inch stainless steel double dildo. Laurie begged him to hold Marylise and do her. Marylise ignored him. The man seeing only one woman was confused by Laurie's syntax. Henry told the guy that there were other personalities inside with her. "Take her word for it, Henry said, and if she wants to fuck your ass, be my guest. I won't even watch. I laughed too the first time, now she tells me the voice inside is my daughter, 15. I believe Laurie, Henry said. While Henry was laughing, Laurie got up, fell to her knees and began sucking the watchman who pretended to be working as a door guard. She got her way. I was fascinated how she played with his cock, pushing the uncut foreskin forward and back working it. "He was hung," Marylise said. "I told her I wanted him." Laurie told the watchman to not fuck Marylise that she was a minor. Do not believe anything she says. The watchman said, sure lady, anything you say, and he sat down and Laurie swallowed all of him, letting his cum drip from her mouth. When she tried to kiss Henry, he pulled back, but Laurie and Marylise insisted, and he did. LAURIE "I was lucky," Laurie said. He died of AIDS in 1985. GENESIS In 1992, in Fort Lee NJ, Adam was born fully formed from the soul of Lilith. Eve was sold as a BDSM slave to a hard core gay massage parlor and bath in Chelsea. Laurie sat back and watched the performance. Later, Laurie told Henry that Lilith grew from the snot in her own throat after you sucked my pussy. We are after all one swallow of shit in dark Isis' throat. As Laurie watched wistfully, Henry and Marylise danced Renaissance trifles fucking between the pauses in the music. Henry pulled her bare cunt up to his waist and they rutted with syncopation. Henry saw Laurie as white music (not racial) and she saw him as invisible and physical. LAURIE Laurie continued her dream running the ridge of her hand into the wet and almost hairless crease of Marylise, picking her up by her cunt and carrying her to bed. Watching herself in orgasm, Laurie shook "Is it epiphanies that touch," Laurie asked? Is the morning a blank space in memory? Will the 2001 millennium pass not noticed. "Everything floats within the self," Marylise said. The essence of this dream is that Laurie dreamed of Henry fucking Marylise while fucking Laurie. Laurie had proved to Henry that there were two women. Henry agreed because he heard two complete orgasms in alternating measures. "How can you miss them," Laurie said. "They last for hours and the rise and fall are not the sum or the difference of their sine's and cosines. A squared plus B squared still equals C squared. We share that hole. I can feel her belly shift, and tumble, and I feel the ache, almost painful pleasure when her nipples, so small, enlarged by my will, bitten by Henry flow into perfectly sweet blue highlighted mother's milk." "Henry," I am your Director. "Lick my cunt and Marylise every day. I will hold us open for your flashlight if you cannot do us in daylight." HENRY Inside Laurie's dreams, Henry counts the sexual permutations. Vitals and parts change from thin to fat, small boned to large, from hymen blocked cunt to the black hole he had photographed with high speed infrared. Laurie splits her legs wide like a dancer and orders Marylise to do the same. Meanwhile, Henry fucks one and fondles the other. Scissoring their legs like water dancers, Henry places dildoes everywhere. When Henry comes, when the Marylise and Laurie have merged, he writes down the details in his "Walkabout" journal. Parenthetically, Henry calls them "Walkabouts" after that famous Australian tennis star. Goolagong. Other entries he calls "Weather Reports." The latter group intending to be factual merge with dreams when he realized there was no difference between the virtual and real worlds. MARYLISE Marylise kept a catalogue of Henry's work. She charted the changes in style, in work habits in the number of times the characters get laid in any story. She packaged the changes in the 1960s as and called it that benign sexual revolution symbolized by Lucy in the sky with diamonds. Marylise got off on them masturbating while Laurie obsessively retyped them four times one day and three times the next. LAURIE "I know Henry fucked you last night Marylise. Is that what you want to confess? Don't mind at all, he made me come and you know it. You felt nothing until I let you and then me. That is the confession you ought to hear. At this moment we Is same person with two separate voices. As much as we want to separate we are like Siamese twins with one brain stem but a different cortex. HENRY Henry marveled at Marylise's resilience. He respected how she buried her mind in his when they paired. Yes, an apt word, "paired." No other word for sex was possible in a primordial garden. None were permitted. Yes, I know Laurie, that was before Lilith seduced Adam with secondary sins. Let me ask Marylise this, Laurie. You should know as well. How many ways can my finger or tongue lick, touch, breeze, excite a clit or the tip of a prick in one lifetime. There is one answer. No, I will not tell you. LAURIE Yes, the whole prick that is the answer, Laurie shouted. I want it deep in my fucken throat. When I disgorge it I will leave my tongue stuck inside the tip. Do you want that tip Marylise? It is kin to that dried up discarded foreskin you keep in your wallet with torn tickets from Elvis's first Sullivan appearance. That was 1955, right? In her ardor, or inexperience Marylise shouted back, getting in Laurie's face, screaming so loud and so intently, no one could understand but Laurie. Laurie laughed rolling doing summersaults. HENRY, LAURIE and MARYLISE: "Sit near me and watch me work," Henry said. Laurie told Marylise, do as your father directs. "No, I am not her child, Marylise said. "I resent the implication. Laurie is not my primal mother. How affected, really. How fucked up is that to be the child in spirit. Sounds like some stupid fake TV show in syndication. Really, if you must know, I wouldn't want anything from Laurie if she didn't already own Henry." Laurie snickers. "Actually, child," addressing Marylise, attempting to brush the hair from her eyes. Marylise pulls back. "I want him for myself," Laurie continued. "It amuses me to imagine him with you. It brings me back to when I was your age. What are you now, 12 is that it?" "Fifteen, and you suck." "Darling, you talk like you're 10." "When I was your age, darling .... Are you Listening, I told you many times." "Sure Mom," Marylise mocked. "What did you tell. OK I get it. Is this speech number 4B or 23C. Seems like you say the same thing every day, Mom." When I was fourteen and a freshman in High School Henry was the visiting poet at Ridgefield High School. He asked us to call him Henry and not Mr. Whitman. I sure did flirt. "What else is new Ma? Now Henry says he doesn't remember that day in the class room when I sat with my legs split out front showing white cotton undies. Yes, I know, Ma, now you say they were split up my to your pubes and you hoped he would help you separate them. You told this story at least forty times." "I have not, Laurie laughed gently. "Actually, I wore my mother's red ones knowing it was his last day in the class. Your grandmother had gotten a gross of red ones for fucking some freak. He was in the cheap panty fetish business. Every time he came to grandmother's house, he would hide the panties everywhere. Most of them contained dry come. "Yes, I know Ma, he also left one sex toy that you both collected. You are wrong Grandma is not a slut, she was interested in the booze not sleaze. She said the red undies would not stunt my growth. " "You think I care mother," Marylise said. "I want him to fuck you so he will come around more often. He doesn't like me. I can tell. He doesn't understand kids who demand attention." "You're being silly," Laurie said almost angry. "I encourage Henry to seduce. I love women. It turns me on when he is works them like a pro. When he fails, and he does time to time, I deliver them to him and he can use and reject them himself. "You mean like me, Mother." "I am not your mother. You are almost 16 and I am 27. Do the math." "You were fucking at 11. Remember I was there, Mom dearest, like in that fucked up movie, I want Henry for myself. I want him to fucken kick your shitten ass." MASTURBATION "You are yelling at the wrong person you know that, and besides what the fuck do I care." After those last words to Marylise, Laurie turns away and sits down in an over stuffed chair. Lifting her dress up, she rubs her cunt and then lifting higher, unsnapping her bra, she milks them. While Laurie works her breasts, spraying imaginary milk (Laurie is pregnant cannot have milk), she orders Henry to watch pointing out the details. "Don't you love her thick nipples, how her breath's irregular. Then there is the gasp. See how I control the pressure in her thighs and the moisture that seems to leak oozing from her urethra. Trace it." Laurie extends her finger and traces the leaking fluid from her cunt. Using a hand held mirror her focus is perfect. "Look how wet we are." Reaching in her purse, Laurie, picks out several dark red lipsticks. Testing them each of them on her thighs and belly she picks the darkest. She tells Henry you know how I love black roses. Painting her nipples with the lipstick, she says that softens them. Lifting her breast, the nipple stretches to her mouth, so the tip of her tongue and then her lip can barely suck it. Almost the act of a contortionist, Laurie informs Henry that she is getting Marylise ready for him. Moving her mouth from one nipple to the other (hand and mouth alternating), when she sucks the left one, she cries "Laurie," when she licks the right, she stammers "Marylise." Arching, Laurie's eyes glazed she is ready to come. Laurie flicks her clit twice, begs Marylise "please help," then jerks, head up, eyes closed, jerks again, arms fall back then forward, and finally with a last jerk Laurie leans forward collapsing. Watch now Henry, here is her after shocks, one is about to hit. Watch her belly. Put your hand there, and now here. Marylise has come Henry. She is dark and silent. Just like this shade of lipstick. I picked it for her. Marylise, look into your mother's eyes." When Laurie says "mother's eyes" Laurie smacks her face hard several times. "That was nice, Mom," Marylise said. "I cannot see you, child." Laurie was frantic. Her hands trembled. Laurie seemed to be anchored to one spot. Unable to move she rocked on her pelvis without moving her ass at all. "Mom," Marylise said, "listen." "Yes, I know. You are pregnant and you refuse to tell him." "Duh, Ma, who else can it be. We haven't fucked anyone but Angela and she don't have a dick." "Yes, I fucked Aaron." "What crap, Ma, you had your period after you did him with Angela. Ma, I know. it's hard not to know when you share the same cunt." Marylise choose that moment to reappear outside of Laurie's body. Reborn in the usual way, she came forth, as Henry said, fully formed. Any impartial observer would see one woman. Laurie rolled out of the ball she became after orgasm, picked up her mother's shirt, put it on, saying she was cold, and asked for a cigarette. "Ma you are dying," Marylise said. I will replace you. Marylise, also pregnant, becomes her own mother in a miracle of last minute casting. She gives birth to herself. Marylise as wholly her own mother is content. She accepts the name Laurie Catherine. "I am my own child. Look like my own mother. I am her clone." Ironically, Marylise is the one who will cease to exist. Marylise/Laurie writes this story out in long hand for Henry. "I want my children to know how it happened, Henry. I must tell the story. The Bible is one example of Genesis. Marylise dissolved into Laurie. Laurie into Marylise. They linger in their mutual orgasm. Laurie/Marylise tightens her legs, opens wide like a ballerina doing a split. Spread apart Laurie/Marylise finger fucks her own cunt becoming more frantic with each thrust. When Laurie/Marylise screams, her hands become cunt with a fist in its heart. HENRY'S APPARITION. Follow my hands on the keys, Henry directs his own mind. Watch my breath, my skin will open and teach you how I sign my words. Imagine you are a deaf women, but you can hear sex with my finger tips touching your cheek. Deaf men alternatively listen to the slosh of the cock in the cunt; that is also distinctive. "Sex Band," that new rock group, plays that tune as its anthem. When you listen to their music, the organ and its melodies transforms red lips into bizarre faces painted purple and silver. Kiss them. Use spit as the primal lubricant. Remember you must handle nipples and clits as if they were a wide expanse of new born mountains split by a river. The Viola plays continuously and we practiced the snare drum letting clouds shift earth and sky marking one heaven dark and drug free, and the other white with a free market. In that context the geosynclines of mountains become sexual fields fornicating with their own water and earth. When the mountains are finished and the new elements collected, Henry knows and if he doesn't Laurie will scream at him that most of this bullshit set up to help the government pay the rent. If you look at the horizon you might notice the fornicating field inside the copulating mountain. Laurie/Marylise watched Henry bleed words. They soaked the paper with blood and semen. When he leaves, I will suck the remains. I have one question for the utility maker. How do I lick indelible blood from the sand where Marylise is buried. Swallowing the stain that grew darker not lighter in the spilled beer, Laurie relaxed and she slowed down. Surprised by cutting her finger, Henry sucks the blood from her hand. Offering Henry her hand to suck, he playfully bites her wrist. When Henry sucks the blood from his own finger, Marylise grinds tongues with him as he lifts the hood of her clit. Marylise find her coil, and rattled apologizes for her failure to control. In the end Laurie cries, biting Henry's left nipple she comes with him. Henry laughs at their obsessions. Why is he laughing Laurie/Marylise asks. What's funny? She hates when he mocks her. Now I know that all his female equality speeches were foreplay for blow jobs. He is lying when he says he believes in equal pay, rights and opportunity. Knowing his bullshit. "I will doubt his integrity," Laurie says. I must believe in his words." HENRY'S BEAUTY Starring into his eyes, into the gray hair, into the age of his abyss, Laurie/Marylise rubs the tiny wrinkles and old acne scars on his cheeks. His face collapses and expands like cunts enfold. I want his mouth, wet, extending, making me salivate when he lifts my ass, spreads my legs, my tits in his eyes, and he nibbles that white morsel and I do come. Separating more than I possessed, I derive the legend of illogical equations. I integrate impossible domains. Yes, I shall seduce him without consequences. I will die and let him witness day after day of fakery and false horizons. Nothing happens when time stops. Henry will not believe it. When Henry and I announce our divinity, all will call him lechery and me slut. Cunt, they will say. Stupid man, careless man they will lead him to the block like that poor sot King Charles and cut off his balls as well as his head. They know not what they do. Truly. NORMAL Henry annoyed when he couldn't find Laurie, sat in a diner drinking endless cups of coffee. He had searched all their favorite places. He had a flight to catch, and when she finally came into the diner, Laurie rubbing dark lipstick from her lips. Sitting across from her, Henry watched her licking the mirror and fondling the chair rungs like cocks, half sitting on the bed, wide open with her cunt exposed. Henry realized the diner was an illusion. Holding a hand held mirror applauded the dance of her cunt opening and closing. She imagined Henry watching her. She kissed Marylise. When she leaned into her own cunt, covering her head with the veil, she opened the lips further spreading the fan. Finally, pulling, Ben WA balls tumble and jerk out of her cunt. She comes with a thud. Henry waits for convulsions. Laurie follows Henry's reflection. Laurie is serious hardly smiling. Henry has no idea that this will be the last night he would know Laurie. Taken captive April 10th, Laurie will escape when she murders Lilith and then later Abel, Lilith's brother. So much for biography Picking the six foot 170 pound pregnant Laurie up from the chair, Henry carries her to their bed, spreads her legs. Laurie asks him to do her using that exact phrase. Laurie says it three times, almost as Christ was asked if he was the Messiah. Denying himself, Christ rose to resurrection after crucifixion. Fucking Laurie, Henry spreads the seams of an obscene pink wrap around dress that barely covers tits and large pregnant belly. Examining her face, and then the round and plump of her belly, Laurie appears like a moon reflecting light from an old round black and white TV. Sir Laurence measures the progress of King Charles I of England in some aged seventeen century movie that seems. Could have been just as easily been Buck Rodgers. Henry thinks counting the money in his wallet. LAURIE While Henry was fucked Laurie, she stares at his fingers as they circle her clit, pulling it out, teasing it, then pushing it inside making the hood and the clit itself collapse on themselves like Euclid's axioms. Starring back at Henry, Laurie neither smiles nor frowns. I must memorize his tongue to learn how he curses. I will possess his arms and fold them into my sheath. Lying back on his chest Laurie felt Henry's ribs, allowing her legs to envelop his thighs as if she were a spider drawing silk into a tomb. I might enjoy that making him into my snakeskin, Laurie speculates. I want his arms to fold his shoulders through the cloth of my mouth. I want the flood of my tits and his nipples as blanket. I will make him dance as he bangs my cunt. Am I the woman he fucked last night. Am I the one tomorrow after my death. Henry wanders the crisp edge of the top of her breasts. He rides sudden dip & swell, not worn down, or nubile, but pulls up racing his car into an open ridge of hills, a place to wander. Kept open, he will fill them all with the residue of ache he has stolen to stay sane. Watching Laurie sleep, Henry caresses her upper lip. He wets his fingers and draws them through her cunt. He knows her heat and spreads them wide inside. I love the heat of shifting skin, Henry whispers aloud. Henry imagines Laurie moving closer to Aaron. My best friend, I know you fuck him, we all do, but do you love him. I do, Henry tells her. Laurie is sleeping and cannot hear him. Unconsciously, Laurie holds his finger-tips like she would a child's hand, and she presses his fingers half asleep to her left nipple. Opening her legs, letting the fur show, wrapping her need in his blanket, Laurie tells Henry she will bleed. Do not worry. it may seem a wound but it is not. Look at the mouth of the cunt as wings, Laurie imagines sailing ships riding with Homer and the Saxon Seafarer. Laurie and Henry watch anchors fall to become the wood of the tree. Cursed to watch her suck cock, drink come, fuck women with wooden cocks, Henry smiles and is jerking his cock. Laurie/Marylise imagines these steps. It is how Henry writes and I play. "I love watching you work," she tells him. You type the words, "flesh, skin, suck, fondle, and cunt, and my belly jumps. I am more than wet, Look. Feel. My vulva's thick, the lips swollen like a river that has had too much rain. I love the rain. Don't you. I wish I were in Paris and had no umbrella. Yes, I know. It is all words, and Laurie leaps into the keyboard, and every sequence of chords and melody that repeat several times are disjunctive failed dreams. Laurie imagined that moment just before you deliver a child. They tell you not to push until the child crowns. You imagine jewels filled with flesh and slight blood. Laurie screams, wakes up, and tells Henry crazed, "What if the baby is born too early, what if I fuck it all up, Henry, would you forgive me?" In the middle of the night Laurie wakes. She studies the peeling ivory keyboard. Every action Henry took can be held within three octaves. If I want his cock, I can seize it. If I want to sing D above C, I can build that note into my cunt to wear it down and rub myself off until I have no competition. I am the soloist. Fuck the chorus. I am the show, the main event, the feature attraction. Hundreds of cameras will film my death, Laurie wakes Henry and tells him. Another thousand play their mouth organs and shoot semen until I cannot breathe in enough of the curds. WRITING THE POEM OF A SEX NOVEL Everything Henry types is lovely. Laurie/Marylise collects the rolled up, spindled failed manuscripts and saves them. They are part of the story and the knowing of him. "What do I know, Laurie asks?" Everyone, watch the cleft of the cunt merge with the real cock/pink plastic dildo buzzing loudest just before the actual collapse of the Empire State Building. Falling on 34th Street the steel and concrete murder the street and at least two thousand people. Before I came, I felt the first urge to fall. It felt as if I had conjured death. We will just dissolve, I sing my last pop platinum album. LAURIE'S BIRTHDAY On her birthday, October 20th, Laurie returns. We fuck. Milk Let's down for our actual child. Blue thin, sweet milk dribbles thin down the depressions and heights of the muscles of Henry's chest. I taste it with him. I run out of the room find another man and fuck him. I rush back and suck Henry's cock one last time. The sequence of the narration and the order of the film clips is unrelated. As a romantic silent movie, Henry, Marylise and I are the farce. While fucking the stranger I do not come. I imagine Henry as Billy who took my cherry when I was seven. I don't hate Billy. He was a thirty year old child. In my bed that night when I was seven I remember counting stars. They were all black and invisible I imagined. No one could see these stars, they were only mine in the banter of artificial illumination. Yes, I want the mean black, deep death fucking scream when I was raped by Able. I want to give it back to that Hell. I want the pleasure of a reckoning and I want the disease of redemption. I want to catch the stones thrown at me by widows. I will throw them back under the ocean where Hades rises as the earth declines. I am the spirit of the fucken delta, as my cunt opens when I come to swallow Henry whole as a whale could a lamb. I will eat Henry like rye bread that I ferment in my cunt with my father's semen. I milked my now dead daddy like a ghost. Yes, my hands are rough. Sure. I will ring him Henry like multiple alarms for my safety. He is the prophecy according to Malachias. Henry will not forsake me blowing impotent like pollen fallen in the barren sea dissipating into brine. Yes, I felt Henry enter me as the first man born. He was not the first to fuck my cunt, but he was the first to be born of my lips. I love how he kissed. He loved how my lips under struck his tongue. I will always wear black-red lipstick when I kiss him. Playing with the layers of his mouth, I nibble like a teenager when she first sucks cock in the bottom of an old car, her legs pinned under her cunt. Yes, I will feel with cock too. I will hold it in my hand and pee with it, and fuck with it, making cunts take it, and then driving down, no dildo can feel like this object. I possess it. I own Henry. I make more of the ride of his life than the death of its end. Thinking all of this, Laurie smiles, and glad she will die first and not discover his body as he staggered to stop. At the end for thirty days Henry would bleed from her as that menstrual rite proclaims in the first years of menses. HENRY He refuses response. He is too busy, he says. He knew she wanted him to lift her like that dark earthquake he had escaped last year in Mexico City. Laurie told him she hated this distance, but he persisted, as a tease, refusing to even acknowledge the times when her breasts brushed against his wrist or the feel of slowly invading thigh. He knew that there was a greater connection than sex between Laurie and Henry. Yes, I know I am outside my self. What can I do here? Laurie/Marylise teased Henry into more than a death leap from the Bay Bridge. One final push, wrapping her legs around him, she squealed held closer, pressing down into a clamp. Feeling her heart in the tributaries of the Nile, Euphrates, Tigris, and Liffey, Henry ate her as ripe fruit. Orange and lime pulp made wine into blood for another fuck later. Laurie/Marylise's hand shakes, but she holds her place, asserted her domain. Held on to it while his mouth made her nipples his last bitter herbs and last supper. Spread your cunt, he directs, placing his whole fingers and thumb, and his whole hand fully inside, Marylise/Laurie blacks out. Henry steals her soul when she fucks and comes on his hand making his wrist bend almost breaking. In the end, of course Laurie/Marylise didn't stop. Brushing her cunt with the back of her hand she knew the moss, clit as first river. Underneath the star of the lip of the mouth of her clit Laurie/Marylise wrote her birth on sexy paper in her first saturated sexual words. I was six, she said Imagine finding your mind locked in sex without any escape but another and another orgasm. There, no I want it better, Laurie demanded. No quickies please. I want it not as spirit or dream, but real. Make it fucken real Laurie screams at Henry staring at him as he hand rolls his cock when he jerks off like old faithful. Laurie can not sleep. More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/ Sean Farragher Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com TxM6 Sites: http://www.taximurders.com http://www.taximurders.com/enfer http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio (forthcoming) -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+