Post by DolorNoir on Jan 28, 2010 12:59:38 GMT -5
WARNING! THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEXUALITY WHICH MAY DISTURB OR OFFEND SOME READERS! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!
Sally looks out her bedroom window, barely shifting the curtain as she watches Narg bend down to pick up another small stone to throw.
Father is going to get grouchy! she worries as a pebble clinks off scratches from the frail glass.
Narg was doing this the night before last as well, tossing rocks at Sally's window, hoping for her to come outside, to go laugh and be with him. Father heard and was very grouchy indeed. He doesn't want weird little boys damaging his windows with stones, or bothering him at half past the darkest three.
Sally stays out of sight, maybe Narg will go away. But Narg starts calling her name. "Come out Saaaaaalllyyyyyyy..." He draws her name out long and slow. If this persists, there is going to be trouble. Sally reaches over to her light switch, flickers it on and off, a signal to Narg.
They walk quickly through wet grass. He leads her by the hand, two slim narrow-figured youth, roughly the same height. Sally's shoes are soaked canvas, morning dew seeps through her socks, chills her toes to ice.
As Sally contemplates this painful numbness creeping it's way up her ankles, Narg abruptly stops, swings her around in front of him by the hands they hold. Sally is shoved against a tree, Narg is facing her, his body pressed against her. This is how he wants to pass the night, every night, forever. Wicked electricity of youth.
Sally is frightened, almost screams, releases a pathetic sound, something short of a shriek. But she knows this is why she came out, knew this is what would happen. Or at least knows that this was what she might have imagined. His body is so warm.
Narg has her pinned, but she doesn't struggle to find out if escape is possible. The force is exhilarating. His hands hurt her wrists. His face bends into her lips. Despite his roughness with the rest of her his lips are very gentle, very soft as he touches the corners of her mouth, licks her bottom lip. She kisses back, leans forward into those lips, trying to get more contact. Narg moves his head back, studies Sally's face. He hadn't expected her to want him back, he hadn't expected her want for intimacy, her craving for passion. Dirty teens.
He slowly leans in and licks her bottom lip. She kisses back hard, just wants to be able to feel. Really feel.
He rocks his hips against her hard. Sally exhales sharp and fast. She feels deep warmth where before there was only a repetitive thudding sensation. Narg is kissing her full on the mouth, her body is loosening up, and so is his grip on her. He lets go of her wrists, her hands are pulling his hair, sucking his mouth into hers. His hands are running down her waist her hips her backside against the tree. Rough bark tries one last time to get a grip on her skin through the nightgown. She shoves him backwards, hard. Narg stumbles but doesn't fall. He looks at Sally, feeling rejected. She skips forward, kissing him again. He holds her hand and they sit down on wet grass. Cold wet grass. Sally's thin nightgown is soaked instantly. Narg's jeans are just dampened uncomfortably.
Sally is on her back. Narg has pulled up her nightgown, his face is lost between her thighs. Sally can't believe the sensation. She's shivering so hard. She's never done this before. Never felt this before. Soft wet-tongued mouth, underlying muscle against something so similar. A different kind of kiss. A new intimacy.
Sally arches and rolls her hips forward, closing her eyes, opening her eyes, staring into starlight. She sees something hovering in the sky above her. Slim white shapes. One big shape. Dead girls. Slim teenage girls like herself, their skin turned pale and dead. their bodies are laid out straight, some slightly curved together to form a larger image.
It is her own female anatomy. A giant pink and pale mirror image motionless against the sky. Only Sally can see it. It is shaped out of the bodies of many dead girls. But she feels calm. What Narg does to her feels so soothing; she is completely relaxed and lets her mind wander. But there it is in the sky, really just floating. Anatomy in rigor mortis.
Narg looks up at Sally. She smiles at him, reaches down and plays with his hair. He really is a good boy. Sally feels like she could fall asleep. Narg goes back to business. Sally feels a jolt and realizes that there is a pulling sensation running through all her nerves, pulling them on tight little strings. This isn't how it's supposed to feel... She feels weak, how very strange.
The anatomy fades briefly. Sally wonders if it's over. Then the orifice comes to life in stark bright contrast, the dead girls are flush with warm blood, and are starting to move. Sally is having trouble moving her arms and flexing her thighs.
She knows what's going on now. Narg is taking her life, taking her vitality; straight from the place where life begins. Sally knows what happened to these dead girls. The new intimacy continues, and Sally can feel cold waxy fingers clawing weakly at her cooling and fading skin. She feels bodies brushing against her own, and her nightgown has disappeared. She no longer feels Narg between her thighs. Come to think of it Sally doesn't feel much. Just the cold shifting and settling of the girls' bodies against her own. She can't see much either. Everything is very black and blurry, with vague tiny pools of light that are quite far away. They remind Sally of stars.
Narg stands up and wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He spits on the tree he had Sally pinned against only a short time ago. He feels so raw, so full of life. A little while ago he had been able to feel his skin starting to crack, flaking off his knuckles like tissue paper. Narg laughs, closes his eyes, opens them again. He always marvels at the clarity. But Sally's is heightened. Part of her knew what she was getting herself into. Part of her invited it.
Sally looks out her bedroom window, barely shifting the curtain as she watches Narg bend down to pick up another small stone to throw.
Father is going to get grouchy! she worries as a pebble clinks off scratches from the frail glass.
Narg was doing this the night before last as well, tossing rocks at Sally's window, hoping for her to come outside, to go laugh and be with him. Father heard and was very grouchy indeed. He doesn't want weird little boys damaging his windows with stones, or bothering him at half past the darkest three.
Sally stays out of sight, maybe Narg will go away. But Narg starts calling her name. "Come out Saaaaaalllyyyyyyy..." He draws her name out long and slow. If this persists, there is going to be trouble. Sally reaches over to her light switch, flickers it on and off, a signal to Narg.
They walk quickly through wet grass. He leads her by the hand, two slim narrow-figured youth, roughly the same height. Sally's shoes are soaked canvas, morning dew seeps through her socks, chills her toes to ice.
As Sally contemplates this painful numbness creeping it's way up her ankles, Narg abruptly stops, swings her around in front of him by the hands they hold. Sally is shoved against a tree, Narg is facing her, his body pressed against her. This is how he wants to pass the night, every night, forever. Wicked electricity of youth.
Sally is frightened, almost screams, releases a pathetic sound, something short of a shriek. But she knows this is why she came out, knew this is what would happen. Or at least knows that this was what she might have imagined. His body is so warm.
Narg has her pinned, but she doesn't struggle to find out if escape is possible. The force is exhilarating. His hands hurt her wrists. His face bends into her lips. Despite his roughness with the rest of her his lips are very gentle, very soft as he touches the corners of her mouth, licks her bottom lip. She kisses back, leans forward into those lips, trying to get more contact. Narg moves his head back, studies Sally's face. He hadn't expected her to want him back, he hadn't expected her want for intimacy, her craving for passion. Dirty teens.
He slowly leans in and licks her bottom lip. She kisses back hard, just wants to be able to feel. Really feel.
He rocks his hips against her hard. Sally exhales sharp and fast. She feels deep warmth where before there was only a repetitive thudding sensation. Narg is kissing her full on the mouth, her body is loosening up, and so is his grip on her. He lets go of her wrists, her hands are pulling his hair, sucking his mouth into hers. His hands are running down her waist her hips her backside against the tree. Rough bark tries one last time to get a grip on her skin through the nightgown. She shoves him backwards, hard. Narg stumbles but doesn't fall. He looks at Sally, feeling rejected. She skips forward, kissing him again. He holds her hand and they sit down on wet grass. Cold wet grass. Sally's thin nightgown is soaked instantly. Narg's jeans are just dampened uncomfortably.
Sally is on her back. Narg has pulled up her nightgown, his face is lost between her thighs. Sally can't believe the sensation. She's shivering so hard. She's never done this before. Never felt this before. Soft wet-tongued mouth, underlying muscle against something so similar. A different kind of kiss. A new intimacy.
Sally arches and rolls her hips forward, closing her eyes, opening her eyes, staring into starlight. She sees something hovering in the sky above her. Slim white shapes. One big shape. Dead girls. Slim teenage girls like herself, their skin turned pale and dead. their bodies are laid out straight, some slightly curved together to form a larger image.
It is her own female anatomy. A giant pink and pale mirror image motionless against the sky. Only Sally can see it. It is shaped out of the bodies of many dead girls. But she feels calm. What Narg does to her feels so soothing; she is completely relaxed and lets her mind wander. But there it is in the sky, really just floating. Anatomy in rigor mortis.
Narg looks up at Sally. She smiles at him, reaches down and plays with his hair. He really is a good boy. Sally feels like she could fall asleep. Narg goes back to business. Sally feels a jolt and realizes that there is a pulling sensation running through all her nerves, pulling them on tight little strings. This isn't how it's supposed to feel... She feels weak, how very strange.
The anatomy fades briefly. Sally wonders if it's over. Then the orifice comes to life in stark bright contrast, the dead girls are flush with warm blood, and are starting to move. Sally is having trouble moving her arms and flexing her thighs.
She knows what's going on now. Narg is taking her life, taking her vitality; straight from the place where life begins. Sally knows what happened to these dead girls. The new intimacy continues, and Sally can feel cold waxy fingers clawing weakly at her cooling and fading skin. She feels bodies brushing against her own, and her nightgown has disappeared. She no longer feels Narg between her thighs. Come to think of it Sally doesn't feel much. Just the cold shifting and settling of the girls' bodies against her own. She can't see much either. Everything is very black and blurry, with vague tiny pools of light that are quite far away. They remind Sally of stars.
Narg stands up and wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He spits on the tree he had Sally pinned against only a short time ago. He feels so raw, so full of life. A little while ago he had been able to feel his skin starting to crack, flaking off his knuckles like tissue paper. Narg laughs, closes his eyes, opens them again. He always marvels at the clarity. But Sally's is heightened. Part of her knew what she was getting herself into. Part of her invited it.