Message-ID: <41043asstr$1046139003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Sean Farragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Importance: Normal X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2003 17:20:36 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapters 111 Walkabouts Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2003 21:10:03 -0500 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, hecate If you have missed any parts of Taxi Murders the Novel, they are archived on ASSM -Google and at my web site. I welcome feedback in email. sfarragher@nj.rr.com Chapters 1-111 are available at my site. Updates will be posted at least weekly. Thanks, Sean http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapters 111 Walkabouts This is the Land of Used to be Alive (c) 2003 Sean Farragher sfarragher@nj.rr.com http://www.seanfarragher.com http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapters 111 Walkabout THIS IS THE LAND OF USED TO BE ALIVE August 17, 1992: Fort Lee, NJ, Taxi Stand, and 4:47 AM. Henry: "I'm comfortable on the taxi stand when the wind changes, suddenly without warning. I want change, with fanfare, and a hope for glory. Taxi drivers are never ordinary. The street tames them and the hustle marks them, sets them apart from the Darwinian drizzle. They're better than most, and, including myself, Henry, a lot worse. I've met a few drivers who weren't thieves and only modest liars." Laurie: Henry dreamed the story. Did that happen? Could it? Anything is possible. It was late, almost midnight, Henry rarely worked the over night shift he hated it. He did like the loneliness, but he liked the desolation and the space the stand at night gave up to thought. "Alt IST Claire," he remembered in fractured German. Henry's cab was second up on the light. Never going to get a shitten call. Another dismal fucken slow night. He read Laurie's poems. They unfolded, and Henry was lost in the imagery of sex and incest, and by some miracle He saw Laurie outside the window of his cab. Henry knew she couldn't be there. Laurie was missing, wasn't she? This had to be a fucken hallucination. "Need a ride," she said. "Do I know you?" Laurie smirked. "Just like the old times. I see I'm famous, she repeated that last phrase several times. Henry said nothing. I will not talk to myself. She's not there. Kissing Henry she bit his ear. I felt that. She's not here. Drawing blood Henry finally reached out, but there was no one there. He grabbed at the air, and Laurie sat next to him in the cab. Out of the dark Laurie kissed him again. He tasted her lipstick and felt her breasts as he lifted her up. Henry looked down to read more of Laurie's poems. Maybe I can escape this delusion. He could not find the pages. I just had them. Where the fuck? They couldn't be? Henry pulled the folders out of his bag and there they were. I never put them away. How did it get back there? I was out of it. Maybe. I got to get better control. Henry realized that he had been on a journey. He once called them walkabouts. They had memories of their own and when he was on that shifting path, very much against his will he lost track of the sequence. What might have happened replaced what actually occurred. Henry couldn't predict walkabouts. He named them after Evonne Goolagong, who moved in grace on the tennis court. When he told Aaron about them, the painter patted Henry's shoulder and suggested Henry figure out what he really wanted. Maybe he should take a vacation or come spend the weekend getting stoned with him and his wife Angela. "Don't lose it," Aaron said. "Whatta ya mean?" "You're getting to be numero uno freak around here, Henry, but I love it. Don't lose the trip. Angela misses you. You know she likes to have us together. You've been away too long. While he talked Aaron dribbled a basketball in Henry's backyard. The ball belonged to Henry. They had intended to go play some at the courts down town, but Henry wasn't interested. "Let's get to the courts before it gets too late," Aaron admonished. "Nah," Henry answered. "Take my ball and go. I am not in the mood. You'll find some guys there to play. When I remember Laurie, I tend to float out of my body. That is not good for basketball" "Listen, you suck at basketball." Aaron teased Henry. "Anything has to be better. Besides, you do not float? What did ya dream you were Magic Johnson. Show me you miserable bullshit artist." "I'm just jerking my mind off," Henry sat depressed head in hands. Henry annoyed, batted the basketball out of Aaron's hands and the ball bounced until silent on the patio. Henry let the ball go and it dribbled to a stop on the far side of the patio next to the roses. Neither of the men retrieved it. The silence of a stopping ball echoed. "Been jerking off too much," Aaron mocked. "I never touch myself," I swear it. Not that it matters." Aaron didn't accept what Henry said. "You sound like a teenager denying he masturbates. I don't give a fuck. "Let's go outside a play some hoops. Shall we? Come on Henry. You know I will beat your ass." As Aaron talked, Angela entered Henry's daydream. Laurie had opened the door to that memory. He saw the two women hand in hand and then he watched them make the other come. Henry smiled. "These thoughts have to come from somewhere," Henry's shrink pointed out when he mentioned it at their next session. No, the road begins and ends here in my head, Henry spoke up, but it's stranger than fiction, for Laurie is not here, and yet she is. I can find her and not. When I stayed at Aarons and the three of us had sex, Laurie was there. I know it. I found her body there. I heart her come. When I read her letters, poems, or anything that connects us, I see her just as she was that last day before I left for Boston. I am being punished he told the shrink for having sex with my daughter. I know. I didn't know, but I had it again, when I was up there, after I know. I couldn't stop myself, and that is why Laurie is gone. I hate this loneliness he told the shrink. It is like withdrawing from a drug that gets you too high and brings you down too fast. I was her friend and I fucked my daughter. When I fucked Michelle I thought of Laurie. When I fucked Laurie I thought of Michelle. Laurie thought it was funny when I told her, but I was paid back, wasn't I? Shit comes around and goes around. Henry's shrink knew him well, and understood, and told Henry it would all work out if he faced up to what he felt about it all. I wasn't one of her Johns, Henry said. I taught her poetry and got her off drugs. We worked together to cut her down from her memories of abuse. Finally, she did get off the shit, and now I am locked up in a room at the palace for having sex with her as a spirit. She cannot be dead. Henry understood that Taxi Land was lands of opposites unfolding like flower petals or garbage trucks emptying into the ocean. He couldn't know that the story would end and begin several times of the next few months. He might never escape it. It might become a memory like Nam. Henry hated that hurt. He would hate it if he could not begin again. Laurie's Story: Laurie had been soaking in my deep bath for more than twenty minutes when Henry came upstairs to watch her rest underneath three levels of soapsuds and steam. He held up the doorway. His large arms and chest were warm when she touched them and reaching to touch his forearm she tried to get him wet. Laurie had hoped he would join her in the bath. "Hey watch it," Henry pulled back. "I don't wanna get wet too fast." "Oh poor baby. I'm wet. Can't you smell it?" "You are soaking in a tub. Of course you are wet, Henry shook his head up and down, and Laurie put her finger up to trace his lips and Henry didn't move away or stop her. "Smell my cunt." Henry watched Laurie splashed like a kid in the tub. She put her hand down between her legs and fingered her sex and then opening her legs she rested them on the ledge of the old fashioned tub. "I love when you do that," Henry quickly whispered to her keeping his voice low. "When I am happy, I will do anything. I feel happy now. Inside you see, love grabs like a fist taking me down. Your arm bangs against my uterus, and I imagine I am fisted until I am shaking and collapse. It hurts too much, but I let the pain go, and ride your arms as your fist rubs against my inner thighs. I love the play of your balls when you bang against my ass when you lean me over a sofa to fuck. I don't give up my cunt too easily, you said when I first met you. "I've made up for it, haven't I?" Yep, Henry said, mesmerized by Laurie's fingers as they held his fingers inside her and she squeezed them with her cunt like vise. "When I fuck, I feel that quake. I am no longer the girl hiding when I play with my cunt. I can shift the weather with my come." "You brag well darling," Henry said. "You were never a girl. You started life off fucking." "True, but I can dream it and I couldn't help it if my mother sold me to every dick who gave her drugs." Laurie turned her head down and looked away. Don't bring me back there, OK?" "I'm sorry. My wit is too quick at times." "I know, and I also know that it is true, and in an odd way I am grateful." I understand some of it, Henry down on Laurie uncomfortable after his poor choice of words. "You have no defense at first, Laurie continues, making Henry see it. Life flows away taking me inside where I can bargain with stupid shits about the pounds of flesh they want to purchase so I can make them whimper. They have no idea who the fuck I am. You do Henry, because I worship your ass. The hallucination faded as the water drained from Laurie's bath. 2. The next day, Aaron was getting ready to leave his studio and workshop. Angela and Henry planned to stay behind, but they walked Aaron down to his car. When Aaron left after many hugs and friendly teasing about the sex that was about to happen, Angela led Henry through the back door of the porch, up one flight of stairs and then down two. They stumbled onto Henry's bed when he stayed with his friends. Henry watches Angela but hears Laurie sing and then speak. From this moment on Henry sees Laurie not Angela. Laurie is not there, but Henry imagines it, or does he? "I am held captive. I am down in Edgewater," she screamed. "Listen to me. I am being held near that pub where I danced." "Look in me Henry, Angela smiled. "Here are my tits and she pulled him down so he could suck her breasts that still leaked milk. I need you Henry. Aaron needs us. He loves us both. I know you are lost in your dream of Laurie. Pull me there. Ok?" Henry stood up, and like a stripper slowly opened his belt. He slipped cuff links into his pocket. Angela pushed him to get undressed faster. "I want to come as Laurie, Henry." Henry didn't answer, but pushed his thumb into her mouth. He wasn't gentle and when he put all three fingers inside and fucked her, she felt her flesh rip from the short quick of his nails. 3. Angela "I love it, Angela said. Hurt me. Do it harder. Don't be a pussy, Henry, make me bleed. I need it. I want Laurie too with us. Please. Aaron will be back soon, and I want her with us. OK? Hurt me. Fuck you. Hurt me. Henry had strong fingers pushed deep and his nails, too long, cut Angela. "Don't you dare fucken stop, mother fucker? Laurie will peel out of the dark with every spike of pain." "Stop," he screamed. "You're freaking me out," but as he screamed his hands didn't stop, and he pushed her harder, knowing she wanted him to slap, maul and hurt her so she would be bruised. Aaron couldn't do that. "I need you for this anger Henry. God, I love it. I will be sore for a week." "You know last time this happened I was sore for two weeks, but that's another story. I love this shit. Henry, take care of my helplessness. Henry protected me and I trusted him. Finally, as Angela felt Henry's cock break into my cunt, she swallowed his fingers as he twirled his dick. Angela liked to be scared. He scared her when he fucked her there dry. Angela begged him to do it that way and she knew he liked it too once he got used to her. Angela hated lubricants. She didn't want spit, nothing at all. She loved it fast and hard and brutal, and before that first stab, Angela loved that fear. "I'm a contradictions. Aren't I, Henry?" Suddenly Henry's fingers turned into worms and then headless snakes. Babbling, Henry tells Angela, carve a wooden totem out of my trunk. Angela's stomach tightened as Henry banged hard into her ass pulling at her nipples with his fingers, and then she let down and the milk sprayed wetting the bed. Angela loved that sensation. It was what she called my early warning orgasm. Angela closed Henry in a wise and she came beating him now, and as he came, pulling out of her ass and thrusting completely into her cunt, answering what she wanted, always demanded to have Henry or Aaron come in her cunt. Angela hated to waste even one orgasm by having Henry jerk his semen between her tits or on her mouth. "It's the shot I love," she said. After ten minutes of just floating, Angela stood up and rubbed the tips of my breasts with her fingers. I have to get Sarah, she said. Henry watched her and then rubbed the back of his hands against her shaved pubis, and when she left he absentmindedly rubbed the back of his knuckles against his mouth. When Angela returned with the two year old the child was sucking hard. Angela was naked as he was. The kid stared at Henry and smiled. Henry put his arm around mother and child. "I hope I didn't hurt your tits too much," he said. "No, never. Look at the teeth on this kid. How could you match her."? "We danced today," Henry said. "Behold here's my window with our dreams of wings to get us out of here." "Dance for us, poet" Angela ordered. "Take off your skin," Henry said, "while I imagined thousands of men looking up at your bouncing tits." Henry cheered as he cradled Angela as she cradled Sarah. When you came, Angela said. I felt all the hurt and pain in you room disappear. I will lace your arms, and my screams of relief from the pain shattered that ache of calm silence left over from Laurie having been taken." "Unsettling"? "No, not al all. You're Henry of the tall tale bullshit club, aren't you? You life always fits dreams." When Henry left Angela and Aaron later, he heard Laurie's voice as he started up his car. "We fucked," Laurie said. "No, yes, I mean we did it with Angela." "Drive," she said. "I love Angela, but It was me not her. You know that don't you?" "Yes, I do, but they stole our life, Laurie." Turning onto the road Henry knew that every day without Laurie got longer and more difficult. He missed her tall laughs and auburn hair vanity. As time passed without, instead of becoming less of a presence as a spirit, her voice and body became louder and hotter. Henry hoped that "madness," as some called it, would be their blessing. Terrible. What can I do? The world's more fucked up than we can stand.. ### For More Taxi Murders the Novel http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook END -- 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: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+