by Lauren Wood
The shards were removed by a handyman to prevent any unnecessary injuries when they finally got around to replacing the windowpane. I had seen him working from my window in the attic. He had no idea I was watching him scratch his ass.
I had a flashlight in my teeth and I was wiggling my way through the frame. It was a tight fit, but I managed. I was thankful that I wasn’t prone to gaining holiday weight. My metabolism was fast and I could practically eat whatever I wanted and not gain an ounce.
Supper was simmering and nothing was going to be burned by the time I came back. I was definitely working up an appetite by taxing muscles I didn’t even know I had. I was going to feel this in the morning. I was hoping I would have another reason to stretch out my sore muscles after we finished playing a bit of mattress tag.
I found a shelf and it was attached to the wall making it into a makeshift ladder. I climbed down careful not to spill any of the contents of the jars. They did rattle, but that was unavoidable. My only saving grace was the resident was across the street not aware of my presence.
I got my feet firmly on the cement floor and I looked around to see that he was using his basement the same way I was. The family must have used it as storage when they had their summer outings. It took a moment to find the door leading to the rest of the house. It was as if the door was made to mimic the very wall of the basement.
I came out in the kitchen and the design of the house was primarily the same as mine with drastic cosmetic differences. The kitchen had been renovated with Stainless Steel Appliances and a new marble counter. There were boxes everywhere. He must’ve sent them earlier when I was busy with the art gallery owner.
I opened a couple of them and found women’s clothing in various sizes. I immediately envisioned some kind of serial killer taking trophies after he had killed his victims. They were classic from the era of Marilyn Monroe. The pieces would have made anybody looking to capture the old days quite happy to find a treasure like this one.
The next couple of boxes were more of the same with the last one containing most of what the kitchen was going to need to function. There were many knives. They gleamed in the beam of the flashlight. He did mention about being somewhat of a good cook. I didn’t want him to interfere in my kitchen, but it might’ve been interesting to see what we could have conjured up without getting physical.
The furniture was covered with white sheets and underneath the price tag on each individual item was quite extravagant. There wasn’t a layer of dust even along the window and door frames. It was quite something for him not to complain about how my home measured up to his. He had only moved in, but he was anal in his cleaning routine.
I stumbled over a couple of other boxes and stubbed my toe. I slapped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from screaming. There was no possible way he could hear me, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I worked my way around those boxes. I could see with the flashlight illuminating them where they were sitting. There seemed to be no method to his unpacking.
The clothing had me understandably upset, but there was nothing concrete to determine he was a homicidal maniac. There was still the second floor including the two bathrooms to check before I went to the attic.
From my vantage point in the bathroom, I could see him still aglow by the fire. He wasn’t moving. The liquor had numbed his senses and left him pretty much useless in the bedroom. A couple of hours of shut-eye would hopefully rejuvenate his spirit and give him the stamina to go the distance.
I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking about sleeping with him. It seemed unfathomable considering everything I had learned. It wasn’t enough to shut down my libido from craving something more than my finger.
The bathroom was pristine with a sunken tub and a walk-in shower made from part of the huge living room closet. It was actually a good use of space.
His medicine cabinet was void of anything except for a first aid kit. There were no toiletries and I didn’t find anything in any box to indicate there was going to be any. The white motif was making me shake my head in disbelief. Wait long enough and the old ways would come back. Clothing from the seventies was making a comeback and architectural designs from that era were slowly gaining acceptance.
I tried to think like a deranged murderer and my footsteps led me up the stairs to the master bedroom with a bathroom made from the dreams of any woman. This huge Jacuzzi tub was elevated to take advantage of the view of the lake. There was room enough for four people.
His bedroom was only a bed and a mattress. There was a set of sheets which he had neglected to put on in his haste to come over to see me. I was about to put them on for him, but he would see it as an invasion of his personal space.
I opened up the closet with a sigh of relief to see it was empty. I knew where my search was going to lead me. The only place left to search was the attic. The fresh scuff marks on the stairs gave me a good indication he had been there recently.
I made my way up cautiously holding onto the railing until the light bulb swinging from the ceiling came on. There must’ve been some kind of motion detector. It would’ve been nice to have in my studio. I couldn’t remember how many times I had stumbled in the dark cursing underneath my breath. This ingenious device would have saved me endless hours of misery.
There were four garbage bags carefully secured. I put the light on top of a shelf angling it in a way that I could see what I was doing. I sat there looking at these bags seeing the body parts of his many victims in my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to open them. It had to be done, but my hands were frozen and my heart literally stopped in my chest.
Time meant nothing when the reality of what was in those bags was staring me in the face. I still had plausible deniability for however long it took me to open one of the bags. I could hear the storm and the sound of the house settling with the wind blowing things around in the storm.
I got up and paced the floor with the flashlight displaying shadows on the wall. We had barely gotten to know each other and already I was about to accuse him of a heinous crime. It was disconcerting how fast I was willing to jump to conclusions.” I kept staring at these bags willing one of them to break open without me having to do any of the work. It wasn’t going to happen unless I made it happen.
I was thinking of the man sitting by my fire. He didn’t make any alarm bells go off, but the grisly sight of the hand in the garbage bag was still haunting me. It made me wary of getting close without knowing the partner I was going to share my bed with.
There was no way I could justify walking away from the mystery without uncovering the gory details. I had to believe there was a reasonable explanation.
I walked around each bag and kicked them hoping they were going to be light enough to go flying across the room. It was my bad luck that they were heavy and could easily contain a discovery worthy of putting me into a catatonic state. I would be found and safely hidden away from the world in a padded cell rocking back and forth in the fetal position.
I fell into the Lotus position with the flashlight in my hand going over each individual portion of each garbage bag. I took a deep breath and dug my nails into the very first bag. It was industrial strength but was no match for my polished and sharpened fingernails.
It tore open and all of these arms and legs fell out. There was this deep seated scream in my mouth, but I was unable to voice my displeasure.
It was somewhat disturbing to be surrounded by body parts. I had seen my fair share of television shows dedicated to serial killers to know when I was in the presence of one. He didn’t mimic any of the characteristics. He was quite personable and was charming in his own misguided way. He didn’t seem to be suffering from any kind of performance anxiety.
I heard footsteps, but I wasn’t able to move quickly enough before he was climbing the stairs with his heavy boots making me cringe with each step.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I looked up to find Jonathan holding my gaze. I was goi
ng to be his next victim callously disregarded like another piece of trash.
Chapter five
I had no idea what I was looking at, but it was nothing like I thought it was. I was right about the body parts, but they were inanimate objects. Mannequins or more precisely, pieces of mannequins which could easily be pieced together replacing one piece with another. They were universal.
“I really wish you hadn’t seen any of this. You must think of me as some sort of freak. There’s a perfectly rational explanation.” I was ready to listen and my heart began to beat again when I realized my life was no longer in danger.
“Are you some kind of closet crossdresser? Believe me; it’s far more appealing than what I was previously thinking. I would count myself lucky if that was all this was. I might even be able to accept this little kinky diversion.” I was still sitting in a sea of plastic body parts.
“I know it might seem unusual, but we both know art can be subjective. I have a following with a different kind of art. I dress them up meticulously in whatever way a client wants them to look like. I had to leave my home and find some quiet space to bring my art to life. All of them are my babies.” It was strange, but there was a market for everything.
“We both have a little bit of strange in us. I might not understand, but it is somewhat intriguing. I have an idea, but I think we should have dinner and discuss it.
We went across the lawn and found the snow was still coming down at a brisk pace. There was zero visibility, but we managed to navigate until we were safely inside.
“I have to apologize for thinking you were some kind of serial killer. The evidence was damning, but it was out of context.” We sat down and I conveyed to him my idea of combining our art forms.
The lights did flicker and finally go out, but the generator was more than enough to keep things running. We had to conserve energy, but candlelight at dinner was enough to lure me into his arms.
“I should’ve told you, but people tend to look at me a little funny when I mention my hobby. I know there’s no easy way to describe what I do. I lost my wife after she found me in the basement playing dress up. I wasn’t hurting anyone, but she couldn’t make the distinction.” The dishes were left for later and he carried me in his arms to the chair by the fireplace. The warmth of the flames was nothing compared to the licking embers from his fingertips dancing along my skin.
He slowly removed each item of clothing and I struggled to help him the best way I could. I was left open to his visual inspection.
“I have to stand back and look at you as a living piece of art. Naked is the way that you should be all the time. We all have flaws, but I see perfection. Those mannequins are nothing compared to your porcelain skin and the way that you tremble to my touch.” He flung my legs over the arms of the chair and put his hands underneath my ass.
He brought me to his mouth and I inadvertently pulled at his hair making his screams vibrate along the length of my slit. His tongue forced its way inside with very little resistance. My mouth was wide open and I couldn’t shut it with how much I was moaning his name.
“Jonathan… Jonathan… Jonathan.” It was a good thing I was sitting and the intense pleasure would have made my legs collapse out from underneath me.
“I love how my name sounds on your lips. The taste of what you are giving me is an aphrodisiac. It’s a tease for something more to cleanse my palate. I’m not going to give up and I hope you don’t mind how your body has become my wonderland.” His fingers were massaging my pliant flesh.
I thrashed madly, throwing my body in all directions and thankful he was there to hold me in place before I went flying right off the chair.
The orgasm was stronger because I didn’t know where it was going to come from. My hand was good but quite predictable in its movements. I had no idea what he was planning and how he was going to go about to stand out from the crowd.
“Don’t stop when you have only just begun. That tongue is amazing and knows how to touch me in the right way to get the desired response. You fuck me with a decisiveness that leaves me breathless. I have abandoned all conscious thought that you are a stranger in my eyes.” The connection we had from the very beginning was hard to pull away from.
No two partners were alike and it made me equate that to the snowflakes falling on the ground outside the door. He was an acquired taste, but I was finding him more than enough to quench my appetite for more than just food.
His tongue continued to project in and out of his mouth with flashing movements. The feeling he inflicted was familiar until it hit me like a sledgehammer between the eyes. I came again for the second time in the span of a few minutes. He had this way of reading my body like he had the blueprints to my pleasure. I was an open book and he had thrown open the pages to see where all of my sexual secrets were hidden.
He was standing and I became a ravenous animal. I was beside myself with the kind of pleasures he had given me. I wanted to give him something to even come close to the way he made me feel.
I shocked his system by sucking the knob and half of his shaft into the back of my mouth. The length of his manly centipede was lying heavily on my tongue. I could feel his seed dripping like a paintbrush over the surface of my blank canvas of a tongue.
He didn’t move and gave me the license to conduct myself in whatever way I deemed necessary. I knew he was on the razor’s edge of his pleasure. His sharp tongue had given me the proper incentive to make him the victim of my oral prowess.
“You mentioned something about my tongue being amazing. I do believe yours has put me to shame.” He was feeding my ego and in turn, I was letting him feed me the length of his pipe down to the last morsel.
I heard him groan from being orally satisfied, but I had yet to begin the fight to unleash the burden in his balls. I didn’t want to give him any reason to replace me with another. The best way to make me indispensable in his eyes was to show him something he couldn’t get anywhere else. I made sure to keep him right there. It was a dangerous game with the payoff being his undying gratitude.
“I don’t know how you know my body better than I do. I was foolish to keep my secret from you. I should’ve known if anybody would understand it would be someone with your unique understanding of art.” It was a fine line between pleasure and a perpetual case of blue balls.
“I think this is where we take it to the floor where we have more room to move. I could easily make you cum in my mouth, but I don’t think you really want me to do that. It’s time for you to dive right in and I guarantee you will find me ready for you. You’ve already paved the way.” I used both of my bare feet to push him away from me to give me room to get down on the floor on my back. I spread my legs as far as they could go and was amazed at my athletic agility.
“I have wanted you from the moment I saw you. I swear that divine intervention has stepped in to give me an angel of mercy. How is it possible we could find each other in a world of millions? We have the same strange idea about what art is. I was able to peruse the Internet before I came over. It’s spotty at best in this area. I enjoyed your art more than I thought I was going to.” He made my whole body rise from my prone position angled in a question mark.
His pants were down around his ankles with his shirt wide open to expose those muscles I had been waiting to see. His taste in art might have been hard to swallow, but my body was more than capable of tasting the forbidden fruit between his legs. I was an open invitation. I was waiting for his initial penetration.
“I’m going to guide you in.” My hand around his shaft felt the heat of his lust for me scorching my fingertips.
He tried to thrust, but I held him back with my hand on his chest. I gave him 1-inch which was followed by more of the same until we were joined biblically at the hip. The loud smacking of our flesh each time he buried it deep was a musical symphony playing just for us.
“I’m glad we were able to discuss things in a civil manner. This wouldn’t have happened had you not b
een understanding.” I didn’t see how I could condemn him for his work considering the expression of depression and despair captured on the canvas by my hand.
“Don’t talk and fuck me.” I must’ve said the magic words. I felt him in the throes of losing his inhibitions and then he dropped the mask for something of an animal underneath.
“If this is what you want, then this is what you’re going to get.” His tireless approach was an endless display of his stamina.
The man had excess energy to burn off and was using my body to do it. We both brought with us a fair amount of baggage.
I was suspended in the air attached to his waist with my juices glistening along his length of quivering flesh. His hands were underneath me. The deep tissue massage from the inside by using his manhood was a good way to ignite the flicker of a spark into a blaze.
The muscles in my arms were fatigued after about 20-minutes, but we continued to stare with fiery determination in our eyes. His thirsty ambition to make me cry out in orgasmic delight was soon made a reality. The rush of the moment grabbed me by the throat and didn’t want to let go. I was still riding high on the wings of his love when he finally gave me one last piston of his hips.
The heat of his loins exploded from his hose and he sprayed down the walls of my sex with his seed. I could feel every single sizzling stream. I watched his face contort into orgasmic ecstasy. My arms gave out and I was left lying with my ass still in his hands.
We did finish the piece with his mannequins becoming the canvas for my paint. It was a display of murder in various forms. The client was impressed. Granger was ready to show off the way we had combined both forms into something nobody had seen before. We were in a league of our own.
Each piece was created when we made the sweetest love possible. I even had a chance to use the swing. It was interesting to be in a co-dependent relationship where we were relying on each other to feed us the inspiration to continue our collaboration. Art was certainly subjective when it came from a place of kinky love.