Posted by Quagmire de Bogside on September 27, 2001 at 13:32:13:
By Quagmire de Bogside (aka Swi287)
Painful contemplation is all I got. I love nice legs and elegant tall young women. Too much on their own they are. I love and hate to contemplate. I never tried to talk to any of them. After one terrible mistake in my life, I am forced and limited to just contemplation. I am a school teacher in junior classes, you know... Terrible job!
Once upon the time I went down from my garret. It was twilight. Streets were mysterious and empty. Cold northern wind drove yellow leaves and the trees in the street panically bent to show due respect to the coming dark age. Cars passed by as an endless chain of red and white lights. Shops turned their lollypop illuminations on, exposing variegated goods and warmth - and now they looked like friendly planets in hostile wet emptiness around.
She said goodbye to a young woman in a white blinking raincoat. They were both very cute, but SHE! She waved her hand with a gesture that any queen would dream to imitate. Her uncovered hair of that fantastic yellowish color of dried straw was shining like a little tropical Sun in the dusks. She laughed. Droplets of the drizzling rain on her head and jacket reminded tiny diamonds. Her hair did not reach her shoulders dressed in a pretty light-brown short jacket with a hood hanging behind. But it was a pair of fantastic legs, practically all open, that impressed me that much.
While she was standing in the halo rays of a silly ad, waving her hand goodbye, her face was telling an amusing story of love and hatred, her eyes were filled with oceans of hypnothizing life. Then she took off and started to soar above the pavements, doing that excellent dance some dull frieks call "walking". I heard a melody of her... Just listen: long ideally shaped legs in flesh-colored nylon stockings and high long heeled boots...
There were pedestrians, cars, houses and dogs in the raining world. There were little wet parks, trees seeding multi colored tears all around... I saw them all with a distant look. I walked behind the doll, stepping heavily into the puddles. Beauty is a poison, it hurts that keen...
I almost pitied her when I saw that she was heading at my house. No, she was heading to pass it by, since such ugly abandoned buildings have nothing in common with a goddess like she. Her only mistake was to step with her dancing walk into its trembling shadow. Let me introduce myself, Dear, I am sure you will not reject my heart! I am sure, years ago you did not do some of your homeworks, now it is my turn!
With a thoughtless movement, faster than the light itself, I have reached her and broke her tender neck. Something crunched inside, she attempted to shriek, writhing in my careful strong arms, but she was dead a moment before she could understand anything. If you prefer long death, I will do that next time. To you. Did you do all your homeworks when you was young? Her body still convulsed, as I hurried to the break in the ancient wall.
This world is terrible. This world would push health and beauty out of her as a juice. That will never happen to that silent limp Ideal Doll smelling with rain and luxury soap. This world would torture her with deseases and panics. She would cry and lose. Now she will remain fresh and killing nice for ever. I will never hurt her in any way. Her surprised face with a vacant look nodded to my words as I went upstairs. She was that light and delicate...
I leaned her to the wall in my carpet hall. I had a last duty to the previous doll lying cold and naked in my lonely bed of an unhappy man. (Man is short for "maniac" aka "manager", "manuals author" etc, isn't it?). The sunburnt brunette though slightly coarsened by her rigor mortis was still quite appealing, but the time has come to see her to the elevator's pit, stinking of lime. I dropped her down, and few seconds later I heard how she slapped into the lime quagmire. I poured down a whole sack of lime more. Let's keep this world clean! Very didactic, isn't it? There is a dozen of them below already.
The novice was looking fabulous. I lit up all candles, filling the hall with their terrible sizzle. I put a clean black sheet onto bed. The rain got stronger, beating into the roof and into my heart. I love these moments of impatience, before unpacking my toys...
Close view removes mystery from beauty. I have noticed one or two tiny spots on her elastic skin. Her lips dried - might it was a touch of sudden death. No ideal in this dirty world!
It is not easy to unpack a thing that delicate, without hurting a piece of her nice stuff. I have got a large collection of their underwear already. They would never put such wonderful things on them unless they were all and always dreaming of being undressed by some clumsy strong fingers "after that".
First, the jacket. Perfect suede, very soft and delicate. Fitting her figure as a glove. I slowly move the zipper down, to find below it a beige pull-over with two pretty mountains of her breasts. I saw a strong strange pity expressed by her wide open eyes, and half open mouth... I think, there belongs a kiss. A long passionate kiss. OK, why not? The zipper is over. God, she did not wear a skirt, just a not very long pull over, covering just her panties! Take a kiss, Dear. So warm and so tender. So compliant and ready to be used...
I put my arms into the warmth of her jacket, embracing her limp slender waist... I move my hand higher and dispose her off the jacket, leaning her head against my shoulder, so that her soft hair of straw color tickle my cheek... These legs in the elastic sparkling nylon, high boots, that I am moving at my desire on my bed! I manage to take myself under control, and start to pull the sweater over her head. There is another delicate piece of delicious stuff! A thin silk blouse with a little pocket on the breast... Right over one of her nipples!
As the sweater goes out, she is that helpess and sad... Why? I kiss her once again, feeling her dead tongue and pearl teeth... I will heat you, Dear, with all warmth of my own body. I embrace and massage her pliant flesh, kissing her rose ears and pale vacant face, touching her buttocks under the pulled up blouse... Her arm pits smell of perspiration, very slightly and... appealing.
I unbutton the blouse... No bra. I am a bit disappointed. Well, she did not need it. Her breasts are not very large, but elastic and hard... They touch unforgetable. Unforgetable little things impossible to stop touching...
She is topless now. Black panties under the flesh-color stockings that blink with silver sparks in the trembling candle light, long heel high boots emphasize the shape of her legs - and she is topless now, completely in my hands. Touchy naked navel. Flat belly, delicate shoulders... I kiss her pussy through the stockings and panties, digging into it to feel her smell. It is there! It is there, weak as a shadow, - not an ideal in the world nonetheless! Deities don't smell of intimacy! - though the smell seems very sexy.
It is so sexy that I cannot control myself any more. I am ready to eat her, but I just kiss and caress, kiss and caress, pulling her stockings and panties half way down, I enter her, and...
Take a little break, Dear! I will be back. Tomorrow I go to my job, being a school teacher in the junior classes. I will be back tomorrow evening. Your high boots become you very well.
I close her eyes, and a strange thing happens: that little change makes her look absolutely quiet and relaxed, just very serious... I cover her with another sheet, and go away from the carper hall, having put all the candles out... Time to read some fairy tales, and to go to bed. Good Night, my little friends!
[To be continued if anybody wants it.]