by Drue M Scott
“STOP!” A loud girl’s voice belted out in his mind. “I don’t want to see your dick!” She continued, but the strength of her voice diminished exponentially as each word sounded out in his head. Oddly, the supernatural sight faded in time with the voice’s weakening departure.
“What the holy fuck is going on?” Sergei snapped back reaching for the shirt he had thrown to the floor moments earlier. Fumbling with the sleeves and collar turning it inside right, he gazed hard at the mirror. “Who the fuck…? What the fuck are you?” No response came. Am I going crazy? His mind ran off in a million different directions. I AM going crazy! Each moment carried a foreboding sense that he was truly about to fall into complete psychosis. A fever began to build in his chest radiating out to the rest of his body. Strobe lights pulsed in his eyes seeming to come from behind his eyes, further disorientating his already fragile sense of reality. Dropping to his knees brought a flash of pain and an all-consuming void of white. Morbid images of death and decay briefly interrupted the blinding white that overtook his sight. With each picture, his heart sank further into a vast emptiness that threatened to swallow him. With an abrupt and crashing halt, the white faded, and the depictions of loss spun down slowly to a single moment in time. Staring at a rather forebodingly tall man, Sergei found himself frightened and fragile, pleading for mercy. The slickly dressed, red-eyed menace before him thrust his hands into Sergei’s chest. Quickly gazing down, expecting to see profuse amounts of blood spilling out from the wound this would have surely caused, instead, he found that he was not actually himself but rather a thin, lanky girl begging for her very existence. There was no blood only an evaporation of energy appearing as smoke filtering up into the air around his/her chest. Pain reverberated through him/her and intensified with each passing second. Sergei knew he was being murdered; his life was being shredded into fragments and dispersed.
“Fuck!” The sound was a muted murmur of pain and held no semblance to his actual voice. It was, instead, that of a girl—this girl—the woman whose death he, for some unknown reason, was witnessing through her eyes. No other attempts to scream or beg or escape came before the vice grip on his being shattered the core of who he—who she—was. Life ceased.
Echoes of the explosive confrontation following his dispersion faintly hovered around him. He could see, but it wasn’t sight. He could hear, but there was no sound. A flash of disruption filtered in and around him as though he were smoke being displaced by the wind. A vision of his body sprawled on grass with the whole of existence exploding around him in violent pulses of light and darkness came into focus. Unsure why, he knew this being, this entity, felt drawn to the bleeding and broken figure stretched out on the green carpet of the park grasping at the last threads of life. Hovering lower and lower, the image of his body distorted slightly from broken bones sickened him, but he knew as desperate as this energy was to hold onto existence, it also felt a great empathy for him. Closer still, he floated down to his own body and finally made contact with his chest. An eruption of light blinded him; he now stood, hands against his bedroom doorway, face tightly pressed against the mirror. Sweat beaded on, and ran down from, his forehead. His chest heaved in deep breaths, and his entire body struggled to be fully present, as if waking up from a long hibernation. Easing himself away from the rectangular reflective surface and balancing his stance, Sergei peered deeply at the image of his body.
“Vevila?” He questioned hesitantly. “Was that your name?” Expecting no answer, considering he believed his grip on reality had been completely lost, Sergei turned from the mirror to head towards the living-room.
“Yes,” A girlish, weak voice responded in earnest. “Thank you for helping me.”
The shock threatened to bring Sergei to his knees again.
Revenge Is Best After Sex
Nothing could have pulled Haley’s attention from John as they dodged their way free of the crowd and found the exit to the loud nightclub. All the thumping music and smoke had given her a headache, but it was a far cry from the pain she was intent on inflicting. Not necessarily a violent woman by nature, but the years had allowed her hate for Jonathan to swell enough that revenge was all she could see. Though he was drunk, John moved with more confidence than she had originally seen in him. His earlier attempts at flirting were, at best, awkward. Maybe he thinks he’s getting laid tonight, and that has piqued some self-esteem in the lad. She pondered reaching out to touch his shoulder as they descended the stairs that were lined with people trying to get into the over-crowded club. He glanced back as he cleared the final step. Haley smiled seeing that he would follow her to whatever end she had in mind, and that felt, damn good. The streets were alive with people drunkenly making their way from one night spot to the next, blurring the path in front of them with a sea of moving colors. The air was thick, and the broken asphalt streets were damp. The night was heavier than it had been for the past several months. Suddenly, Haley’s dress felt too tight and the air too thick. Whether it was the few drinks she had consumed so speedily or the nerves at knowing what she planned to do, her mind was clouding in time with her constricting sight. Somehow, John must have known she was slowing down; he reached back just in time to swoop her up and keep her from falling over.
“Not exactly how I was hoping to sweep you off your feet,” he paused to smile at Haley as her head shifted unsteadily from side to side, “but I guess it will do.”
The heavy aroma of him bombarded her senses. His fragrance was dominated by the cologne he wore, but the masculine musky scent of a “man” was also present. The familiar scent of aggression though was blissfully absent.
“You are kind, sir.” Words she hardly believed she was speaking escaped her lips as she, with a moment’s worth of steadiness, lifted her head to kiss him. “Your place then?”
“I think maybe we should take you to the hospital.”
“NO!” She blurted out, barely allowing his words to be completely spoken. “I am fine; a few too many drinks and all the excitement in the club has got me disorientated.” She smiled looking up at his eyes—those eyes—the ones that mesmerized her once before. The same eyes that peered back at her now with one added element that they lacked the last time she saw them: care. “I am much steadier, now. I can walk on my own if you wouldn’t mind putting me down.”
He quickly acquiesced. “I’ve plenty of water and a comfortable couch,” he hesitated a moment wondering if his next words were going to offend the lovely girl who had quite literally fallen into his arms, “or a bed at home that you are welcome to use until you are more settled.”
“A glass of water sounds good,” Haley replied smoothly with the slightest hint of coyness in her voice. “I’ve grown quite thirsty.”
Reality blurred-by outside the passenger window of the older model BMW John was driving. It all felt surreal to Haley, peering out at the street lights and trees blending together in a muted haze from behind the glass. John may have been driving too fast, or possibly the alcohol had a more profound effect on her than she had originally thought, but it almost felt like she was traveling at the speed of light. Hesitation, and yet strong anticipation, fluttered through her thoughts and kept her from focusing on any one particular idea for more than a few seconds. She had waited more years than she could count to exact revenge on Jonathan, and now that her opportunity had arrived, she wasn’t altogether sure it was what she wanted. She couldn’t know for sure this speeding drunken man was her hated attacker, either. But how could he not be? She knew energy passed through time and was never truly gone; this man had too much of Jonathan’s energy to not be his reincarnated self. Her mentor, the one who taught her so much about energy, warned her that revenge would not change the past. Seeking it would only change the future. Admittedly, there were other desires in her she wanted to satisfy, but she knew she had to concede, revenge had started painting the events of this night. Would it be a masterpiece of lust and sexual exploration or an abstract haze of violence and hate? Watc
hing the world speed by the window, she hoped for the first. She could almost imagine the shape of his penis, the heftiness of his balls, and the flush of his skin with desire as they stripped their clothing from each other’s bodies. She was uncertain though if he could arouse the ecstasy Jonathan had before he had killed her. It was at least worth a try. She was not so easily overcome by physical force now and what could it possibly hurt to fuck this man before deciding whether or not to kill him? It’s worth a go, I guess.
John must have sensed her change to willingness as he peered over briefly taking his eyes from the road to gaze upon her and place his hand on her upper thigh. Smiles raced over both their faces faster than the BMW sped down the highway.
Whether it was the gin or the excitement—or the fact that Jacob drove exceedingly fast—Haley wasn’t sure, but they arrived faster than she had expected. How she got from his car to his bedroom, she was equally unsure of, and now that she was there, in the moment, how she might have to end their encounter felt all too real. His room was an awkward shape. It was square for the most part but had an addition to it that was a semi-circle completely outlined with floor-to-ceiling windows. At its heart, there was a minimalist bed draped with a dark green comforter. The black headboard barely rose above the single mattress and the entire height of the king-sized sleeping surface was less than two feet from the hardwood floors on which the frame sat. What little bit of wall that was present in the room was a few shades lighter than the sheets that covered the bed, and the windows, unadorned, gave view to the trees that edged his property. With the exception of the ceiling, it was like being outside. There were no other furniture pieces to obstruct access to his simple bedding, making the room feel like its only purpose was to offer a front row seat to the nature that surrounded the house. Or it was for nature to have a front row seat to the plethora of pleasures that probably had taken place on the centerpiece bed. Much of the other parts of the room were simplistic as well. The back wall, which separated the semi-circle extension, was bare, with the exception of one picture hanging opposite the bed. The two dressers standing guard just outside the doorway to this stunning “outdoor-room” were unpainted and matched the wood closet doors and the crown molding that lined the entire space. The whole environment seemed meticulously maintained and did not match the disheveled appearance of the man that stood before her now unbuttoning his shirt. What was that picture of? Her hazy thoughts tried to interrupt. Nothing in his room seemed to line up with the idea of what she had imagined his living space might look like. What did it actually matter though? His clothes were coming off and soon hers would be, too. Haley enjoyed watching men get naked. Eyeing their movements they took off each piece of clothing.
John appeared to realize this, and accentuated each movement with slow deliberate effort. His shirt was now open and revealed his strong chest and the small patch of hair between his pecs. The happy trail of dark hair, starting at his belly button, snuck away beneath the waist of his tattered jeans and beckoned the eye to follow.
Haley certainly wanted to follow it to the heated lower region of the young man but raised her eyes to his instead. He was smiling as he slid the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. It was probably the first piece of clothing to touch this floor in a long while, or at least it appeared to Haley as such. Now bare chested he slid his hands across his abdomen reaching for the buckle of his brown leather belt. In one fluid motion, he tugged it away from his body and snapped open the first of five bronze circles that made up the fly on his jeans. With the waist band being loosened, she could see the rim of his boxers. Sometime in the midst of watching this man remove his clothes, she had started removing articles herself. Having only her bra and jeans still on, she paused a moment in order to fully focus on John sliding his 501’s down. Dropping to the floor the jeans pulled at his dark blue boxers just enough to reveal the top of his pubic hair that widened away from his thin happy trail. Gooseflesh formed across Haley, tickling a gasp of breath from her.
John loved how intently she focused on his body. Her bra came off with ease to reveal her average-sized and highly attractive breasts. She was well formed and striking, with soft skin and few if any blemishes, but her hands flew up quickly to cover her nakedness.
When did I become so self-conscious? She stopped at the thought long enough for John to move to her and gently lead her hands away from her chest. He stood in only his boxers and socks, and Haley was now only in her baby-blue, boy-cut panties. Instantly, she regretted wearing the color. It was far too girly for her personality, but John looked like he enjoyed them. They were close enough she could feel his cock pulse against his boxers and brush her hip softly. Swiftly, he dropped to his knees putting his face directly in front of her pastel under garment and hooked its waist line with his finger. Drawing them down, he began to kiss each inch of sensitive skin revealed. Haley couldn’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. Sliding the soft cotton down to her knees, he continued kissing her. His lips caressed the delicate skin as he worked his way past her small well-manicured patch of light, golden brown pubic hair and directly to the lips that eagerly awaited his arrival. As her panties finally made it to the hardwood floors, Haley lifted one foot to free it from them, and Jacob took swift advantage of the movement expertly guiding his tongue into her. Nearly falling back, Haley gasped in pleasure. With the skill of an artist, he caressed her ass with one hand and simultaneously slid her other foot free of the cumbersome undergarment without missing a beat of delving his tongue into her as deeply as the position would allow. Pulling at his head to raise him up to her other desperate lips, Haley quickly became aware of how much her thighs enjoyed the warmth of his face between her legs. Kissing passionately, she could taste herself on his tongue, and it aroused her even more. However, her focus was squarely upon the dark blue boxers, which still hid what she longed to discover. Guiding him backwards to his bed Haley pushed him playfully, so that he was laid out upon the dark green comforter. Almost viciously going for his happy trail, she traced it with her tongue to the waist band of his underwear. His moans were a clear indication it felt good. She could feel each pulse of blood filling his dick as it pumped itself to attention in rhythm to her kisses. She knew by the time his boxers gave it freedom he would certainly be fully erect. They came off with ease only getting caught on his head for a moment. Haley was impressed. He was well endowed but not overly so. He would fill her perfectly. She liked that he leaked pre-cum rather steadily. Hungry to taste him fully, she parted her lips and slid down the length of him before closing them tightly around his base. He tasted of vanilla with a hint of sweat. It was exactly what Jonathan had tasted like. Memories of her one-night stand flooded down upon her without warning. She moved quickly to remove John from her mouth but his hands were immediately there halting her from doing so. From the awkward angle, at which she had knelt consumed by her lust in the moment, Haley regretfully realized she was now at a serious disadvantage. Forcing his cock deeper into her and pulling her head into his crotch violently, John made sure that her gagging on his dick would overpower any ability to bite down. Haley could feel herself begin to choke and heave.
“I thought the drugs would never kick in,” His voice rose over the sound of her own gasping and muffled cough. “Then you faltered on the steps. What a beautiful sight it was to see you so vulnerable.” Forcing her head up and off him, John pushed Haley back away from the bed. “You may have different clothes and a stronger personality, sweet Haley, but it’s nice to see I still get that pussy wet.”
With a horrifyingly clear understanding, she grasped now why so much had been hazy after leaving the club.