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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6  Incest Dreams
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 From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com/

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher

0843Marylise0853X
Marylise 
"Not Fully Formed"

Dreams for a precocious first birthday

June 16, 1991

Marylise Whitman, a replica of the actual daughter of Henry 
Whitman, opened her eyes on her fourteenth birthday and saw 
sex in all it splendid delirium. It confused her, but she 
accepted the dislocation and temporary amnesia.

Born from the head of Laurie's prick and the fist of Henry 
clit, she was created fully formed riding Laurie's thigh and 
Henry's hands. Everyone thought she rode dick well for a 
little tyke. If you had guessed her age,  you might say she 
looked 15, no older. "That certainly makes it easier to raise 
kids," Laurie smiled. "I just want to go on record. Henry is 
my man, Laurie announced. "Marylise can fuck him, but I get 
him first."

You know Laurie, if I didn't love you as much as I do, I 
would just walk away. What a stupid thing to say. First of 
all, she's not my actual child." 

Henry put this in the record to answer the critics who 
claimed that the poet exploited young vulnerable women.  
Laurie and I are the only ones who can see her, Henry added 
when the microphone was attached to his belt.

"When Marylise appeared," Laurie continued her story. "she 
claimed to the God of mud who created the stepped pyramid and 
Eve. Adam was, as everyone knows, built from Lilith's ribs. 
Moses had his own show on MTV, but was dumped for indecent 
exposure. Forget David. He is a faggot from Queens who is not 
that bad of a guy if you ask anyone around here. No, I do not 
have AIDS. That was a stupid thing to say. Just because I 
hate people who bash gays doesn't mean I use needle drugs or 
fuck bisexual hypo addicts."

No, that is not how it happened, Henry said. What shit. Tell 
them the truth out there.

Laurie continues, "after being celibate for three months (no 
masturbation), I had an orgasm of such intensity that 
Marylise was created out of that surprise. Henry helped but 
not as much as he thinks. He sucked my clit and I did his 
ass. We are a great team. Isn't that what it is all about. 
Teamwork. How else could the universe been formed from a big 
bang or two, a fuck party seems the appropriate place. 15 
billion years ago three 14 year old brothers from 135th and 
Lennox met this pre teen dance group at the Apollo. One thing 
lead to another and you know how it is, the Imperial Wizard 
not withstanding, these guys were such great singers that the 
girls came in second. That is how we get the planet Uranus, 
isn't it?

"Think about it. No one usually remembers conception," Henry 
quipped. 

"I do," Laurie raised her hand real high. 

"Stand up Laurie," the teacher said. Now, tell your teacher 
and classmates how a sweet little white bread thing like you 
knows anything about fucking let alone the general 
stereotypes depicted on Star Trek deep Space Nine when that 
thing is placed inside a body and the thing takes over for 
multiple generations. That is so disgusting, Laurie. Don't 
you think?"

Christ Tina made me the gift of creative orgasm to compensate 
for my miserable childhood. Saying that, Laurie stood up 
again, pulled her dress down, then up. It was obvious she 
wasn't wearing any underpants. 

When this big guy behind her pulled her hair, Laurie slammed 
him got out from behind the desk and decked his buddy.

Meanwhile Henry is front of the class reciting a fuck poem 
and cheering Laurie like she is the next fucken heavy weight 
champion of the Tit bar an establishment for women with under 
32A and under breast development who have reached the age of 
at least 18. Yes, barfly tipping is permitted." 

This spectacular bullshit went on for thirty days and nights, 
Laurie said, but after my last orgasm (seven hours ago) and 
with each subsequent start and stop, lurch and spasm, 
Marylise finally settled inside in my stomach. Thank you 
Henry for rubbing it. Two weeks later, next thing you know, 
Marylise popped out  wearing a white thong bathing suit, a 
sash filled with World War I French medals for valor. 

"Don't forget my beautiful tennis dress designed by Cher," 
Laurie added at the end.

I bet you want to know how Marylise got her name. Henry chose 
it, Laurie stood up by her desk, raised her hand and 
answered. The teacher asked her, now tell me sweetheart, do 
you suck Henry's cock?

Of course I do. Don't you, Laurie answered, and cute as a 
button bowed.

 A few years ago, he had a very smart and accomplished female 
student who wrote an interesting story about love between a 
much older man and a very young but precocious woman. That 
student called her character Marylise and promised to give 
that name to their first child. Nothing happened of course. 
Henry understood how women slowly mature forgetting their 
first loves but not really forgetting them. He depended on 
that and he thought that Marylise would be an excellent name 
for the Marylise Affect now officially listed in Bullfinches 
Mythology under classified as sexual in design if not origin.

HENRY

Henry loved Laurie and Marylise's intelligent chatter. After 
Laurie was kidnapped, Marylise keep Henry company. Henry says 
it was not incest, because she was not his child but a 
replica. Laurie claimed Henry's Boston child was not genuine. 
"I wouldn't say she is fake," Laurie added. "Just not 
authentic."

Henry called Marylise a genius. No, she  did not speak in 
tongues or babble. "She adapted well to post modern 
mathematics and logical positivism," Laurie adding when Henry 
stopped talking.  "I can stuff her with any character I 
fancy. If you have a part in your movie, Laurie told one 
experimental movie maker at a festival, no matter how small, 
her magic will infuse your production with a  certain 
discrete innocence. Add a dash of depravity, and she can 
handle that even better."

"What bullshit," Marylise replied. "Mom, you're fucken nuts."

"Why did I create her, why do I bother, such an ungrateful 
kid."

Henry reappears. "Did someone call me?"

"I did her for you darling. Just for you," Laurie took 
Henry's chin in her hand grabbing it like he were a naughty 
school boy and she was the principal. "What if I get hit by a 
bus, run away with millionaire or find a woman with a real 
cock," Laurie postulated. "I might leave you Henry," Laurie 
teased.

"Are you looking now? If you find her, I would love to watch. 
I realize I couldn't touch." Henry smirked.

"I know darling, you like to be bitten on the ass."

"Find me a creature like you with your equipment and I will 
let her/bite my ass. It must be genuine pussy with a fully 
functional twat." 

"You mean like my friend Christ Tina."

"She's a phony. Someday I will figure out her illusions."

"Forget her spiritual ambiguity, I have seen her with a cock 
and other times with a hybrid organ that looks like a clam 
with a spout." 

"Have you seen her pussy, Henry laughed. Case closed as far 
as I am concerned."

"Why should I? She doesn't want anything to do with men. Do 
you blame her."

"What is Sir perfect Mr. Gadfly," Henry interrupted. 

Laurie doesn't like Henry's attitude, but she hangs with him 
realizing he is running a gag.

"You can't tell me the Gadfly doesn't look like a man. He 
sticks out a foot at least. 

Marylise meanwhile has fallen asleep. 

"You better wake her," Henry cautions Laurie. 

Ignoring Henry, Laurie continues to talk about the Gadfly. 
"That is his outer appearance. He transforms at will."

"Like Marylise," Henry asks?

"No, don't be silly, Hen, honey, Laurie has decided to be 
assertive. "Marylise is only female. There is not a drop of 
male shit in her entire "chromospheres." Think I am fucken 
crazy. How could I compete with her even if we share, except 
during great stress, the same body.

MARYLISE

Marylise's special knife is sex. She loves it, as a time 
tested fifteen year old, Marylise gives it a special twist. 
As a spirit, Henry, Laurie continues, Marylise is without 
age. She calls herself fully formed (Henry disagrees) and is 
ready for all of it. 

I want to try another woman beside Laurie and Angela before I 
have children, Marylise writes in her journal while Laurie is 
talking. 

Written with invisible ink (no not milk), only she can read 
it. 

Laurie says when she read what Marylise wrote, it changed. 
"The actual letters do not stand still," Laurie explained. 
"Marylise must edit on the fly," Laurie taps Henry's shoulder 
squeezing it and then giggling about the obvious pun. 

Today, for a change, mother and daughter, lover and lover, 
sister and saint, Henry's two beautiful women are arm in arm. 

"That is the best way," Henry adds self consciously



MARYLISE ON SEX

"I put out as they used to say for attention. That was the 
modus operandi back when Henry was a boy. I told him many 
times what a shit he was and is and was as a man. What man is 
different. Even the spirits as men suck, and I am not 
kidding."

Like Laurie, Marylise gave it food for sex freely offering it 
without any poison or adulterants. 

"Marylise does have one human flaw," Henry added. She suffers 
with depression. No one will want her longing. 

Laurie writing on the blackboard in that old fifth grade room 
where Miss Hearty took up the watch, wrote the word 
"doppelganger." 

"Longing is more than depression. It is the absence of  
possibility after the loss focus and internal energy," Laurie 
chided Henry for his insensitivity.

When she was at it, as Laurie put it, Marylise pushed  words 
across the cash register drawer. Ready to take on any 
challenge, she refused to help Henry market his poetry. She 
says it is not for sale period. If you insist on selling it, 
Christ Tina will turn you into salt for preferring the life 
of the professional poet. 

"You are not a rock star honey,"  Marylise admonished. "You 
don't have the balls for it, Marylise told Henry. "You and 
Laurie might get somewhere if you were not past your prime, 
but you would have to suck too much dick. You would have no 
time for writing.  Remember Laurie, Henry's come back on the 
great tour, isn't that what the old white folks called it. It 
was all a lie. He and you knew it only as a dream Christ Tina 
had conjured to keep you and Henry in line. That fucked up 
spirit love "lost paper bedlam" as she called it. Tina takes 
credit for that phrase, but Laurie, you can back me up here, 
I created it in my ad writing days with Margrill, remember?"

LIES

Marylise exaggerated her character and her strength and 
weakness. Stumbling cross the soft foot fall by the sludge of 
truth made it all seem like it had happened. Mud can become 
ebony and Blood becomes red ivory. They are the spells Tina 
uses. Laurie and Marylise learned them and the lies that cull 
them from a post modern aesthetic. Under the influence of 
Baranik and Alpers (with a touch of de Kooning) Laurie and 
Henry made art with their good friends Angela and Aaron. 

TRUTH

"Marylise does not seem human," Laurie writes in her journal. 
Henry reading it with Laurie's permission, smiles and tells 
Laurie you got it all backward. She is more human."  

"She is flesh, Laurie paused. "As you well know, and separate 
from mine, right dear, I know you love being the meant 
sleeping between two women." 

"No, my darling Henry, Marylise is not the living dead or 
some other contrivance folks use when they confront 
impossibly  conceived worlds. 

"We must have disorder" was one of Marylise's favorite 
slogans. 

Do you remember Henry when Marylise asked "how do you write 
about nothing? Or the time she demanded to know why if she 
stamps on the ground cowboys and Indians appear in her bed. 
Why are they more real than Sean Connery or Brad Pit. 

Just imagine a threesome with those dudes, Laurie wrote in 
her book while Marylise paraded naked with a knife and a 
spade. 

I know that is an odd phrase, Henry, but "Wild Child Autumn" 
is your poem. We were acting it out to see if it were 
possible.

I played you Henry in the poem, Laurie added. Marylise was 
the wood fire and not the child. [pause] Who played the 
child? We both did taking turns. Marylise is fair after all, 
and certainly more considerate than any of us.

PHOTOGRAPHY

On good weather days, Marylise and Henry photographed nature 
and each other. Marylise loved the pinhole camera Henry had 
made to take pictures of death. An old friend, Mary Gail 
Weldon taught Henry how to use them.  "You never met her, 
Laurie. Ask Marylise she knows everyone." 

"Laurie simply said I am not commenting on every stupid thing 
you say, Henry."

"Mary Gail died while living in Paris. Terrible car accident. 
No, I was not involved with her. I met her when she was 
visiting Jimmy Caine. Yes, you never met him. He is still MIA 
in Nam. No, I think he is alive. I would feel it if he were 
dead. Mary Gail and Jimmy were lovers. She was three years 
older. They had one kid who is being raised by Jimmy's 
grandfather.

PLOT LINES

Resting her hands on her knees and looking at Laurie and 
Henry fucking, Marylise was bored. She wondered what would 
happen to jump start the plot line. 

Listening during pillow talk, Marylise smiled and started to 
rub her clit. Can't fucken get off she screamed at both of 
them while they were rolling together playfully after 
fucking. 

Laurie: I hate sex in the morning and when I don't make love 
the night before I look at the world including my lover and 
only notice that we are all strangers.

Getting up from the bar stool of another famous bar, The Tit 
Bar, She told some guy she just had about the her regular 
bar, she called "truth" or the "Gables." 

"The dude blanched. I hate that place, he said. Only queers 
go there, and then, I asked the asshole, if he wanted to feel 
my cock. He must have known I was kidding. He got up and left 
me there, and didn't even take his drink. I left shortly 
after and decided I didn't want to pick up some guy or gal 
for a casual romp. I came to you that night Henry. I knocked 
at your door, and you wouldn't let me in until I started to 
scream. I didn't know you were fucking Angela. Why were you 
so shy. I knew you were lovers with her and Aaron. I had them 
too. In fact I was fucking Aaron at 16 and Angela came to my 
bed when I was 15 when I first started modeling for them."

Henry was silent during her monologue. He did grunt, and 
shift his cock in and out of Laurie's cunt from the rear. She 
was shifting back, pushing.

"I got tired of watching and joined them pushing them apart 
and taking over the middle," Marylise said, speaking to the 
audience.

"Yes," Laurie answered, "just like the night with you and 
Angela, I slipped between you and Angela picked up the phone 
and told, not asked Aaron, to get his ass over to Henrys. The 
numbers have changed." 

"I knew you were pissed, Henry. You wanted Angela to 
yourself. Aaron didn't like it when you did it alone, but 
Angela set it up, and of course she told Aaron. 

After all the upset, after all the shit I gave you my darling 
Henry, you said that "making love with me is like riding the 
cosmos to its origin."

"Was that death, Henry," Marylise asked waking up. "Who would 
die? I can't," Marylise replied. 

"Who will die in life or in the story? Good question. 
Somebody does."

Maybe it is evil, Laurie said, getting up in the bed stroking 
Marylise's mouth while she sucked her clit.

Laurie spread her legs far apart while Marylise worked. Right 
after she came, Laurie said, "that fucken Aaron can really 
paint. Look at that mural. God what incredible blues. I was 
staring at his painting when I came. I felt him come."

DEATH TOYS

"I keep my death toys safe from them," Marylise told Laurie. 

"You mean like you camera that can photograph the dead and 
make them live or die again or worse never complete an entire 
cycle."

"No, it is not like that. The camera shows who will die and 
lets me help them get ready."

TATTOOS

In the days before April 10, 1992, Marylise and Laurie  wrote 
poems for the sun. They tattooed their own designs on the 
same place on inner thigh. Marylise did it on the right. 
Laurie on the left.

Marylise displayed two birds with feathery breasts; one 
sported an uncut cock and the other a shaved pubis.  Silver 
lockets dangled from the male bird's necks. Sage and herbs 
were held by the claws of the female. Marylise said I was 
inspired by the eagle on ancient golden American money.

Laurie designed her tattoo to show nothing but a simple line 
double thick with an arrow pointing to her cunt. She drew a 
circle with a half line to symbolize it. "No one, will get 
it, she told Marylise, but I like it. It says Here I am."

After the tattoo party, Marylise danced naked in her fantasy. 
Drunk she cursed the sandbar for not being consistent. 

Climbing an old tree she perched in the lower branch, 
dangling her legs, she pumped them back and forth with the 
rhythm of a fist pounding a cock. 

Pumping herself up, making the swing ride high so the chains 
would buckle at the highest point caused a ripple that ran 
down the insides of her legs.

Pumping higher and longer, riding the back and forth, driving 
the swing that the tree house held in trust brought Laurie 
and Marylise closer. It made Henry feel like their father. 
Christ Tina even cheered.

Bored, getting down fast from the swing, riding the last push 
outward letting go, Marylise sailed into the sand box 
twisting her ankle. Getting up, rubbing it, she cursed being 
human. Pain will stop me, she thought. "I will play tag with 
myself," Marylise explained.

"No, I will join you," Laurie answered.

"Give me fifteen by myself first, OK"

"Sure."

Watching Laurie count to 1500 covering her eyes, Marylise 
could not believe how naive Laurie pretended. Running as fast 
as she could Marylise reached the summit before Laurie had 
stopped counting. 

Looking about, wanting the lip of the cliff to reveal another 
dimension, Marylise stopped. 

No one could see anything. There was only the black, and when 
Marylise looked back for Laurie, she realized that Laurie was 
gone. Where did she go? Looking down on her hands, feet, her 
dress, Marylise just stopped without further duration.

Laurie shouted. "Marylise, there is Eden. Satan and God are 
fucking while waiting for us."

Marylise had vanished.

HENRY'S APARTMENT

"Marylise is sleeping Henry, do not bother her."

"Good. We all need a rest, right darling."

"Why not come to bed early tonight darling? You can fuck her 
in the morning. Fuck me first."

LAURIE 

"Marylise, have you seen Henry. I told him you were willing 
to take my place in his bed. He seemed agreeable." 

I know this seems like a silly question considering all we 
have said, but why did you choose tattoos that depicted blind 
women?" 

"All we can do Laurie, Marylise said, is take care of 
ourselves.  That is all we can know; after all we are blind."

SUICIDE

Watching stone dead women rise from the ground Laurie 
imagined her own body if she ended her own life. 

Dead after suicide, Laurie watched the pustules dry on her 
thighs. "Does the universe die," she asked. "Can it What if 
we could remember past lives? How different that 
consciousness?" 

Marylise asked one  angel if she knew the boundary between 
satisfaction and journey. Refining the question, Marylise 
added. How do I have pleasure and not suffer the withdrawal 
from not knowing it? 

"Ask your father," Laurie said, wasted no time. 

"Why, so he can have his own way with us," Marylise giggled.

"No, not that. Henry has never harmed anyone." 

What it comes down to. What I mean here, Laurie, I want to 
know how this fucken mystery play ends. Can the entangled 
alliances and secret whispers all work out? Is there a 
seventh book after the sextet ends?

You mean like a happy ending, Laurie surprised by Marylise's 
questions, said. "Nothing good ends happily."

"Cynic"

SEX ENDS IT

Later, "the man who thinks" finally came. 

Just after his orgasm, Henry watched how Laurie set out to 
play the strings of his sex.  Marylise watched from the 
balcony while Laurie and Henry made love on the large screen 
of the old Paramount theater in New York. The porn actors, 
boy and girls, sitting in one row clapped every orgasm. While 
they laughed, talked, cut up and slapped hands, they also 
kissed, rubbed cocks, opened cunts, ate salted popcorn and 
got very messy.

Watching the audience response, Marylise listened to her mind 
inside of her mind. She felt Henry collapse inside her. 

Held as a seed, Marylise had been expelled from his forehead 
fully formed. Marylise loved hearing stories written about 
her creation and renaissance in general.

She heard Henry exclaim "I love it," turning up the volume on 
the VCR. Marylise got very sexy knowing they were all 
watching the famous masturbation follies. 

"I was paid well for this," Marylise quipped. "I like showing 
it off to the young ones. They have endurance."

Henry disturbed by Marylise's provocation, withdrew from the 
confrontation. "I had no problem with performance values. 
Great fucking and sucking scenes are hard to destroy. What 
bothered me is that she looks younger every day."

Concerned, Henry asked Marylise, "are you over 18?"

Marylise did not answer but continued to press her tits 
against Henrys back feeling his ribs and then turning him to 
rub them against his chest.

Henry wrote in his journal. "Age is irrelevant because no one 
has age without context or consent."

Henry wrote in his notebook that Marylise's answer begged the 
question. "How old are you he asked again?"

"If I tell you, and you promised not to tell anyone, will 
that be enough."

"Sure," Henry lied.

Marylise answered. "I am 14," she lied. "I age every day. It 
is easy to make up numbers. No one knows the truth anymore."




More American Adventures in erotica and other works by Sean Farragher:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/


Sean  Farragher

Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com

TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
http://www.taximurders.com/paradisio   (forthcoming)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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