Lap of Luxury

by Lisa-Ann Carey

  “Hello Terrance you are alive I can’t believe it. I received your parcel, so far I’ve only had a chance to read the card, I haven’t seen the video yet.”

  “I’m pleased you rang, I made the video, it’s pretty raunchy, a week in the life of Terry the rocker in the raw behind the red velvet curtain,” his words rained down on her, returning her to the hedonistic pleasure of a huggy-buggy ride of romance with him in days earlier…hardly!

  “I’ll take a peek at your stunning show.”

  “Pay me a visit and I’ll tell you more, write this address down, 18 Sabre Drive, Lei Bluff, Hawaii, meet you at the airport the beat you let me know. Chow LisaAnn.”

  The view of her lush tropical garden against a watery backdrop from the bathroom window coincidentally cried out “stay!”

  She committed the details to memory until she finished her bath time and was able to jot his address into the back of her diary.

  A stirring curiosity can be an invitation to a complicated situation. Strong willed strangers often fascinate gentler spirits, making decisions that open their minds and their legs to hypnotic wishes giving the leader absolute power over the follower.

  Later that evening, during the first half of the movie blockbuster, LisaAnn silently glided out of the entertainment room and snuck upstairs to the master bedroom, retrieving the video from the safe and popping it into the recorder. To her surprise, there sat Terrance with not a stitch on reclining in a soft cow leather seat. Rock n’ Roll music echoed softly in the background. Steamy hot words puffed from his sizzling mouth.

  “Let me be completely honest with you sweet LisaAnn. I never died. I shall help your entire inner self climb to a higher altitude. As you draw near to me put to death the world around you. I am your pilot – fly with me. Be mean, be selfish, be sinful! Make your best friends your long lost friends. Let them go.” Higher and higher into the sky his penis rose, lifting her mood to a higher plain.

  He pointed to it and said proudly, “I call this my tool of empowerment. Use your costly time to refresh, to love, to seek. Put your fears to rest put your faith in me.”

  He was an experienced ladie’s man. He had her believing that he was her life and that she could not go on without him. Everything he did, he said, fascinated her. One simple sharp word had her under his total control his power told her he was the only one that could lead her into eternal sexual bliss. She burned for him she yearned for him. He stung her into shock. Well on her way to becoming his sex slave, she tore off her knitted jumpsuit, her feather embroidered G-string and underwire bra and spread her legs apart as she lay on the bed.

  Totally and utterly sex-obsessed he ordered her to poke her finger into her hot Australian Pie and pluck her sweet cherry. “Don’t be shy play-bunny let me prick your wit. I’ll keep your inquiring mind active. Centre your thoughts on Mr. Seductive.” The things he could do with his ever-long penis made her shine. It was such an endurance sport just watching him yank.

  “Let my spell-binding formula pump your blood and circulate your oxygen.” He poached her eggs as she watched his steamy sweat trickle off the knob of his penis in droplets. She meditated on every remark he made. “Toss that gorgeous gummy shrimp.”

  Her eyes glued to his fist as he jerked free the thick white sauce trapped in his atomizer. Teeth clenched, he gripped his knees and squashed them against his chest and tossed his nuts with his vibrating fingertips. She twitched her knob as her legs arched backward over her shoulders his mischievous moan whipped her out of control as she quickened her pace, sputum ejecting, a pissy-shower spraying three feet in the air from her blowhole, the prickly sensation in her stubby stalk kidnapping her spunk, pirouetting her into a spin of ravishment. Entrapped in a pant, her legs slowly reached the soft blankets, her udders frail and shivery, her thicket honeyed and trembling as her insane trainer tongued with charm, “I watched you masturbate you sinful scamp, your rapidity torments me.” Caught up in his flirtatiousness she itched for him to carry her off into a world of exhilaration and shady love. She placed the video back into the safe, and quickly changed the bed linen after she showered, then wrote his address into the back of her diary.

  The impurely delicious Hawaiian left her as moist as a sticky date pudding in the middle of a heatwave. If he had been there with her he would have bottled her syrup.

  Dormancy slaughtered time. Racing minds slowed down for renewing refreshment through reflection. A day’s play as good as done. The path ahead, unseen as the darkness stained the delirious light. Each member of the household drifted off on their own to beautiful places where beautiful faces were found, like gold – life’s greatest discovery. They dreamed of each other.

  The morning broke with gladness. Inspired words helped keep one another at their tasks. Little did LisaAnn know that all the energy spent and wasted on Terrance would not last, she would regret giving her heart to the idols of blind and mindless desires that would hurt her relationship with the most caring chappy on the planet.

  How could she sleep at night knowing another man hid in the shadows of her heart? John was devoted to her, heart and soul, obedient in every way.

  Her pain drove him to her in the very first instance.

  He adopted wisdom from godly men, like his precious father and LisaAnn’s friend Pastor Amos. John’s kindness and patience for her were displayed in the valuable moments he spent listening to her, thinking about her, valuing her above all else and trusting her.

  Life at first was a struggle to break away from a fight with misery, now it was becoming a frisky game for LisaAnn.

  What she sowed she would reap. If she weaved fiction she would be weaved a feigned story, if she swindled, a swindler would cheat her.

  Longing for someone else carves in the imagination all that the heart cries out for. Love is power. But…deep in the chasm of her mind lay in wait fears that would grip her. They seemed to utter wishes of evil against her for the mere thought of throwing herself forward with her legs in the air like an unruly mare waiting in desperation for a wild male brumby to enter her.

  In her conscious mind she saw extinction of life, catastrophic circumstances, disease, insufficiency and restrictions of every kind, frightening her subconscious into harbouring the same fears. The more she played the tape, the deeper she fell in love with the man she always craved. Brawn, but no brains, what could he offer her in the long run? He was selfish and all he had on his mind was how he could use her body for money and she never knew.

  The times when she wanted to rest her mind, there, haunting its depths was a crying woman dressed in black, with a black veil covering a pale face. Was it her true destiny? She tried to ignore the dismal picture, but it nagged her to stop her childish game, to be faithful to the man who truly loved her otherwise…a sacrifice.

  What a waste to toil for the one who should not belong to her.

  Four seasons in one day turned the penned pony fiery. The brumbies, burning with fire, jumped the log fence and kicked it to death. All afternoon, after the brumbies were released back into the wild, LisaAnn spent the time sobbing her heart out beside the poor animal of such great beauty – gone forever.

  “The climate hath such an evil influence,” said Pastor Amos casting his unforgiving eyes towards the skies.

  “They are nuisances those brumbies, they need shooting,” Josef was just as disappointed as LisaAnn and Pastor Amos and buried the pony with reluctance.

  Fortunately the American boys were there to help her take control of her emotions leading her inside, out of the downpour. John knew what she needed – food, tender loving care, a feeling of safety and bodily comfort. It was his job to provide her with these important needs, and he did. But…one moment she clung to him, the next, she walked away.

  He longed to hold her and never let her go. Separation anxiety gripped him. He was a little too proud to ask her to help him out of it by staying close.

  She had been head over heels in love with the man she thought was her divine selection
, but now that another stood in view, she was not so sure. John had helped her learn about her body, what she can do with it, and how she feels. Through this, she discovered more about herself, after her body was pawed and invaded by a man who couldn’t wait to make love to her.

  “Don’t push yourself on me, back off.”

  Her impatient words stabbed him like a knife. Something was wrong, it was not like her to treat him this way.

  All he wanted to do was to give her heaps of attention the way he always did, but no matter how hard he tried he could not make it happen.

  Outside the back door he saw the grey bark peel off the gum trees and tumble to the ground leaving behind a swatch of peach colour that glowed to a dusty pink in the primary sunbeam of an early morn, the colour of her beautiful lips. His pocket watch read five-fifteen, the rising of the sun.

  It was Monday morning, the start of a public holiday. LisaAnn could feel her energy levels drain, she had told John and the others that she was headed for the milking shed to squeeze a pail of milk for breakfast, but instead, as planned, she grabbed the suitcase she’d stored in the shed the previous night and ran to the jetty leaving behind two adorable creations that had, not so long ago, captured her heart that moment she had first met them, and their charming father who was expecting her to return within thirty-five minutes.

  A quake of strong emotion sliced her heart in two as she climbed the barge ramp and took a seat upstairs in the café. A vacuous cavity deep inside was all that was left after losing her mother. Somehow John and even the babies could not completely fill it. It felt like there were more tears in that hollow place than in the entire Pacific Ocean. She could not look back nor say goodbye to her island escape and those she loved.

  Faith in a firm belief and an untainted conscience go hand in hand. During the plane ride to Hawaii part of her turned her sense of inner peace into havoc. She disliked having a bad conscience.

  The poor lady felt as if it was all her fault for allowing other persons to intrude on her privacy and use her in such a way as they did.

  Would Terrance wipe away every tear from her eyes the way John did? What would her new future hold? She believed Terrance’s sexuality would replace John’s reassuring words. She felt she could trust her new all-knowing energetic supporter for the unknown future.

  The letters Terrance had written and had not sent earlier contained words of longing, now part of her collection. I do not want to be away from you, not an inch, not a minute, he had written.

  Pastor Amos had sometimes recited a poem John had helped him write and it floated around inside her memory until the airplane touched down in Hawaii.

  There is a shelter there is a guide

  A trusting friend to help me decide

  The right decisions to make

  The right paths to take

  “I know Terrance you’ll take good care of me,” she murmured. The man from her very first teenage dream met her with hugs and kisses galore as if he had never left her side. She was completely tied up in the spell he had cast.

  Dr. LisaAnn Wright under Terrance’s spell

  Chapter Eight

  If separation anxiety began to tighten its reigns when LisaAnn first avoided her husband, it was strangling him when he discovered she had run away, yet again, probably for good this time.

  The babies clamped themselves to John’s legs often screaming, crawling away then hanging on again for life. They couldn’t see their mother it was a scary experience not having the comfort of the boob for not only the growing babies but for Big John.

  All through their marriage he had carried LisaAnn on his strong shoulders, now there was just her babies to carry. Why couldn’t she have taken the rest of the family on exploration with her?

  “What if I can’t find her this time guys?”

  “When you do, hold her tight and never let her go again,” James warned.

  The memory of her heartbeat throbbed in his brain, the smell of her hair lingered in his memory.

  “She needs me as much as the babies do.”

  Ambiguous feelings from the separation caused doubts in his mind as to whether or not she should be found. Tim agreed, saying, “Perhaps she doesn’t want to be chased, some of her clothes are missing, it’s obvious this is what she wants, perhaps she just needs time to think through her roles as Mother and Doctor and all that they demand. Give her time. I suggest you wait patiently until she is ready to come back to you. It may not be too long.”

  “Perhaps what Bostin Bardot did to her scared her off her career,” Pastor Amos suggested.

  “That is most probably right, she thought it too dangerous working with mentally ill patients, didn’t she?” John asked, tears drizzling.

  On the journey to Terrance’s beach-house she felt excited one minute and frightened the next by the prospect of not having John with her.

  At home on Lamb Island the response of the babies over their missing mother was heartbreakingly the same. Inconsistent feelings toward the irritating situation had them acting one way then the other, back and forth went the pulse of their heartfelt emotions.

  At times when they crawled out of their father’s sight by accident, they hooted piercing cries from unsafety and anxiety. John even wished he was the one to scoot not her then it perhaps wouldn’t feel as painful.

  “Who will be there to hold her should she be sitting in a lonely motel room somewhere?” John questioned. The littlies clung to him just so he wouldn’t disappear from their sight the way their mommy did.

  There was pin-drop silence in the room.

  Terrance and LisaAnn talked and talked about what they had been doing but she never mentioned the fact that she’d married or had children but that she had lost their baby. Terrance had to pretend he knew what she was talking about. Inside he felt uneasy knowing his brother’s baby had died in its mother’s womb.

  John wished she had never left his side, he knew all too well that the big wide world could be an unsafe place for a young lady especially one who had a weakness to begin with. It seemed he only had her to snuggle in his arms for a tiny moment.

  “An adorable baby bear like you and a nurturing papa bear like me belong on top of one another like bread and butter,” Terrance told her kissing each closed eyelid, her nose, her mouth, then placed a kiss on every other place on her adorably expressive face in the comfort of his bedroom. He cradled his little baby in his arms. She ran her delicate fingers over his popping muscles, he then leaped out of the bed and danced naked before her, thrusting his hips to the beat of the wild music.

  He tried to clear her mind by pushing out all thoughts and visions of her past through sex, sex and more sex. The more sex he demanded the more money he weazled out of her.

  Your aim in seeing me is to forget about the bad times in your past, John’s voice echoed in her mind. The time when she first visited him at the clinic when her life had been an utter mess, John had done his best for her, her heart once unsettled, he set to rest in unagitated self-confidence, each day he had made sure would be a day of comfort for her. Out of the raging disturbance of hostility he was the only one who could provide copious sprinkles of divine bestowals upon her life. Do not tell your story to anyone else just trust in me, again John’s words hung in the air like a hot air balloon.

  Terrance had lied to her saying he was all-wise, all-knowing, all-powerful. He told her under his sovereign control evil can be turned around to accomplish his good purposes. Sexual intercourse with him he told her was a good gift and shouldn’t go to waste.

  Terrance placed an advertisement in a dirty magazine called DEEP ROOTS. It read:

  THE ANSWER TO YOUR DREAMS: “LISAANN”

  Radiant in her birthday suit, two plump booby’s popping out of her peek-a-boo neckline. Touch her pink rosette and smell her musk perfume. She’s a cool treat on a hot Hawaiian day. She’ll always do her part and spread her legs apart. Her southern belle kissed by the sun waits for your bare buddy to fuck her with fun.


  ENTRY FEE: $300.00

  Visit her at 18 Sabre Drive, Lei Bluff after 10p.m. seven days a week. MEN ONLY.

  LisaAnn was handed the task of polishing the redwood floors until they shone like the sun. All ten windows she buffed until they sparkled like the Lake Of Peace. The mirrored ceilings wiped of every teensy speck. This was part of the wonderful world of Terrance. He wanted her to explore his world. He promised her that the money she gave him would go into making her life secure and happy.

  At ten o’clock, men, as cute as the starry, starry end of daylight arrived at the beach-house desirous for sweet dreams under the moonbeam with lovely LisaAnn. She had been given the contraceptive pill before she started.

  To the first contender she was seen as a priceless work of art. Three hundred dollars cash was passed to Terrance, he led the fellow into the bedroom, peeled off her deep blue chiffon layered gown and ripped off her matching panties and petticoat.

  Her dreamy face turned into a blotchy blot. She sensed she was in for an injurious ride of sexual abuse. She was beginning to hate Terrance’s world of broken promises and plundering habits.

  A dream come true for the freebooters of Lei Bluff perhaps, but hardly a kiss goodnight for John’s sweet. Every rip and tear from their colossal cocks made her feel like butchered meat. Just when she thought the first joker was done with her, another master unzipped. Terrance clenched his fist around her locks and bent her over for a rear chew of her luscious roast. Again the rock n’ roll music played at deafening levels.

  “Ooh Miss Mossy you are so, so slimy,” a skilled sailor penetrated his cockle of the heart with his soldier-like lump, his sickly stuff a bullseye right in the middle of her butt.

  “You pus filled sea-dog I’m not your sea piece, rack off,” her jaded lines were becoming tasteless to the jaguars and their palm-sap spurting jags.

  “What happened to that sweet little pony I picked up at the airport a few days ago? I shall have to give my nite, nite pony a slap or two, now bend over you tight assed bitch,” Terrance’s anger and fury evident in the twenty hard slaps on each arse-cheek he had given her with each side of a ping-pong paddle blistering her skin until it resembled cherry pie. The more she cried the more ill-humoured the foolish farts became.