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Subject: {ASSM} Tales of the Lorelei 07/10 {virgosun} (msolo mf 1st cons rom voy pett oral)
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<1st attachment, "07lorelei.txt" begin>
Lorelei part 7
Yeah, well, call me a sucker for temptation. Right up
until Thursday evening I wasn't going to go smut-
surfing, until the moment Cathy rang and asked if I
wanted a lift up there, and I said "Sure!" before
grabbing a jumbo block of rum 'n' raisin from a stand at
the servo.
It really was Ladies' Night, for Sean left us alone in
Kieran's office to surf for eye-candy. She already knew
"the best places" to find what we liked - male nudes and
gorgeous consenting couples going for it. As for the
chocolate, we ended up eating most of it ourselves. "We
should get Lyn in on this," Cathy said.
"Oh please, not after this week! So much for Miss I-
Hate-Sex," I grunted.
"Do you really think she's got the hots for Renton?"
Cathy wondered. "I think she's all talk, like, if it
came to the main event, she'd suddenly get really cold
feet, like freezing cold. She'd never go through with
it."
"I don't know, I don't want to know, and I don't
particularly care," I snorted. "First Russ, and now
this. I've had it up to here with her!"
Cathy cast me a sidelong glance. "You wouldn't be a
teensy-weensy bit jealous, would you?"
"What, me? I don't want Renton, I don't think he's sexy
at all! Not only did I have Lyn going on at me about
their date last week in one ear, he wanted to tell me
about it too! I have had ENOUGH!" In need of major
distraction, I jabbed a finger at one of the on-screen
thumbnails. "Ooh, look at him, download that one, I
wanna see that!"
I wondered at Sean quietly sitting indoors reading and
watching telly while we did our thing. It was a
wonderful, wicked and fascinating night on which I saw
things I'd only ever imagined, ineptly at that, before.
Most of it was incredibly erotic; some of it made us
both go "Eww!" and scroll past quickly. Cathy stayed on
after we quit, and I got a cab home to gaze at the
picture Kieran had given me, and masturbate like mad. No
wonder Sean was waiting patiently, Cathy must have been
fit to hammer him to a pulp.
The one thing I hadn't seen that evening was Kieran
himself. I saw him more often at the service station,
topping up his bike, or getting fuel for Sean's tinny,
or getting dive bottles charged at my brother's jetty.
Where once he would have ignored me, now he nodded
acknowledgement, and spoke when he wasn't just passing
through. "Inspiration," he said of the scuba tanks; he
had lately become a diving enthusiast.
"Really?" I teased. "You sure it's not another way of
looking for her?"
A big grin creased his face, an expression dazzling for
its rarity and the way it lit up his gruff, craggy face.
"All right, you get a point. But the underwater world
does give me new ideas to work on, too." Then he drew
back a step and overtly eyed me up and down. "You
wouldn't happen to have a long black steamer, would
you?"
"What? Ohh, no, no way would I dress up as the Lorelei,
uh-uh!"
"No, you're right," he agreed. "You're nothing like the
Lorelei, she never said a word; never bitched or
complained..."
"Oh thanks a lot, you mongrel!"
There was pure sport in his eyes, warmth on his face.
"You could pose for me and I could paint you."
"No way!"
"I don't mean paint your picture, I mean paint *you*,
paint you black with a big sable brush, then while you
were still wet roll you in a vat of sequins..."
"You are *sick*!" I cried, and we both laughed then.
"Actually," he said as we sobered, "I've done a few
preliminary sketches for your painting. You should have
a look and see which one you like best, and I'll make up
the finished work from that one. Busy on the weekend?
I'm a bit too busy Thursday night to catch up with you."
"I'll be at the station all weekend. Can I get a lift?"
There had been too many weird weekends of late, and I'd
hoped for an uncomplicated one that would also earn me
some pocketmoney. Cathy and Sean would be hanging
together as usual, and Lyn and Renton I didn't care to
think on. If Kieran wanted my company, he could come and
fetch me.
"Alright," was all he said, and with a nod he went on
his way. It occurred to me as he walked away that being
sighted perched behind him on his bike would be no bad
publicity around the school grapevine. At least I might
look worldly, if the truth was rather different. And you
know what, his butt looked good in those black jeans of
his. I hadn't noticed just how good before.
Saturday at the fuelstop started difficultly. Renton
found me there, having pounded down the road on his
bicycle for "last minute" supplies should Lyn decide to
visit him. He bought a couple of big bottles of mineral
water and, yes, a box of condoms, which I thought was
going rather overboard as I knew Lyn took the Pill. His
face was as red as his hair, and we made a few joking
remarks about how condoms were never sold in a "Small"
size category. But seriously, how likely did I think it
was that Lyn would visit him? "Don't get your hopes up,"
I drawled. "Talk isn't action."
By the time he rushed off again, to go home and wait and
wait, I was feeling shirty and bilious with jealousy.
Then Kieran pulled up on his bike, pointed at me and
then the back of his bike. I threw my hands in the air,
angry already, and strutted off to get the go-kart
helmet. The sooner this was over the better. What I
really wanted to do was go home and look at that penis
picture, and escape my boredom and loneliness there.
"Drink?" he asked when we arrived at the house. "Cola,
soda, beer?" Then he bent to pat the cat, who had run
jingling out to greet him.
"No, thanks. I can't be gone from the shop long." Which
wasn't true. I strode past him and around the front of
the house, toward the workshop, assuming the pictures
would be there that I had come to see. "I'll have a
quick look, but can't stay too long." I was in too bad a
mood to want to have much to do with anyone.
He had crouched by Scrote and looked up at me standing,
hand on hip, waiting expectantly. A dark grin crept
across his face.
"Hold that pose."
"Eh?"
"Naturally imperious, demanding. Perfect."
"Cut it out!" I snapped, tossing my head. His grin only
widened, but he rose and went past me. Industrial
sounds, fans and whines and whizzes, and tinny rock
music blared, both from his workshop and the other
nearby warehouses, a busy Saturday morning. Once into
the office, he bat a hand at one of his wall-display
boards as he went to check the fax and answering
machine.
"Take your time and tell me which one you think is
best," he said offhandedly. He was wearing overalls
today and everything had a painty smell. I groaned. As
Sean had promised, for development sketches these were
remarkable - the trouble was, there were eight of them,
and so far as I could see they were all excellent.
"I don't know!"
"Look, it's a simple question - which one do you like
best?"
"Toss them up in the air and pick up the first one that
lands, Kieran, they're all fantastic and it really
wouldn't matter which one you did."
"Take a good look at each one, take your time," he
insisted. He had sat at his desk and was looking at a
sketchpad, a pencil scratching with swift movements.
"Ohh look, eeny-meenie-miny-mo..."
"My, my, we are in a mood this weekend!"
"Third one over, middle there," I said off the top of my
head and very shortly.
"You don't really give a shit, do you?" he asked slowly,
still working. "I take the time out to go and fetch you.
Now you stand here dithering and grumbling and clearly
not wanting to be here."
I sighed. "Sorry. I've got a lot on my mind."
"I'm trying to do you a favour, and offering you some
choice in the matter, and all you can do is sulk. If I
were to make a choice for you, next week you'd fly off
the handle because I was painting the wrong one, not the
one you liked best." Still he didn't frown at me, but at
his work.
"Like you care either!" I retorted. "You'd rather be
working too, just look at you!"
He smiled, glancing up briefly. "You need a hazmat sign
given your mood right now. I'm taking advantage of you,
that's what I'm doing." While I wondered what he meant,
he gave his sketch a few quick flourishes, then turned
the pad around. He'd drawn my own face.
"Aww, man..."
"Had to grab the chance. Don't think you're the type
with enough patience to sit around. Now, take several
deep breaths, and I'll make this easier for you." He
swung out of his chair and brushed past me to the board,
unpinning and taking down all but three of the Lorelei
pictures. "There. These are the three I believe have the
most artistic merit. Back to you, ma'am. The customer is
always right."
"Sorry," I said again, standing beside him, closer to
the board, to look up at the Lorelei. He looked down at
me, his face serious, dark eyes keen but not unkind. His
nose was nicely chiselled, and I could see the lay of
every whisker on his unshaven chin, and wondered what
those bristles would feel like. "I'm just...for years,
it's been easy. On the weekend a girl should hang out
with her friends, but now they've all got much more
important friends than me. They're all going steady,
making out, doing things I've never done, and it shits
me."
"Poor poor pitiful me, woe is Jo, nobody loves her."
I looked sharply at him again, but he wasn't mocking me.
His smile had a reflective quality. Above me, the
Lorelei smiled knowingly. "Now I'm being pathetic. She
makes me feel childish," I muttered.
"When all you want to do is be grown-up."
"She helped you grow up," I said slowly, wondering what
he thought of, locking my gaze with his. He nodded
fractionally.
"You...believe me, don't you?" he said, and I tore my
eyes from his.
"I don't know, Kieran," I said with a gentle laugh. Then
I looked up at the pictures again. Now that my blood had
cooled and my thoughts left my plight, I could see her
better. "I like that one the best," I said honestly, of
the Lorelei who gazed frank and steely straight out at
the viewer.
"There. Wasn't so difficult, was it?" There was
satisfaction in his voice as he reached up and took the
one I chose down. The others he stacked neatly to one
side for later filing. "Well, I'll run you back to your
shop, then."
Back to my misery, dwelling on myself? "You are busy,
aren't you?" I said, taking in his paint-hazed overalls.
"I don't have to be, that's the beauty of being my own
boss. What do you think I spend Thursday nights doing,
pubbing and clubbing? Oh please!" He batted a hand
toward the house. "Go, get yourself a drink while I sort
a few loose ends here. Then, how 'bout we go for a ride,
I mean a real ride, out to the countryside, get right
out of town for a while?"
A much better idea. I went to the back of the house,
taking a moment to pat the cat, and look at the model
fantasy garden. For a time I gazed at the slick, deep
green surface of the creek, glistening like oil just
beyond the old jetty. A strange buzzing gathered in my
ears, as if the air pressure had just risen and they
needed to pop. I found myself gazing at the motionless
tyre-swing, and thinking of the cat-skull and wanting to
throw it into the water. For a while it was all that I
could think of. I even took two steps back toward the
workshop, knowing full well where to find it. The only
thing that stopped me was knowing Kieran was still in
his office. Maybe I could sneak back in and get it while
he was at the computer or in the workshop, or somehow
otherwise occupied.
No, maybe some other time. Maybe Thursday when he was
busy and I was there to smut-surf. I promised myself I'd
get rid of it then, although part of me yearned to go
and grab the thing now. Instead, with strangely leaden
feet, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a cola. Before
long an iron door banged. Kieran strolled across the
yard and came through the kitchen, on his way to his
room. "Normally I'd drop my gear in the laundry, but
seeing as there's company..."
"No smart remarks about me liking to watch, then?" I
declared, arms akimbo. He didn't normally pass up a
chance to taunt me about my voyeurism.
He paused, that sly grin returning. "How could I forget?
What's one more naked guy to you?" Standing in the
kitchen doorway, he tugged open the studs of his
overalls, shoulders working as he shrugged his way out
of the sleeves. I had taken a breath, but resolved to
match his challenge by watching him without flinching.
And he was in great shape, with smooth but not over-
bulky pecs that I could wish to run my hands over, and a
properly manly amount of dark chest hair to highlight
the lines of his torso. He dropped the gear and stepped
out, stripping down to jocks and socks, turning to toss
the coveralls into the laundry. His black undies had
seen better days, and one side-seam had parted in a big
hole. His lean back was highlighted, and well-fleshed
thighs held my eye as he straightened up and faced me.
"So, is this the part where I flop it out?" he grinned.
"Don't you dare!" I snapped; laughing, he went to the
fridge and grabbed another cola. "I'll get you some new
undies for Xmas."
"Argh, a pox on all the mothers of the world who
browbeat their kids with Wear Nice Undies!"
I couldn't not look. Had to. At that pouch-shape in
front, to wonder at its contents, and how everything was
laying. Lumps and bumps. Now that I knew much more of
how naked men looked, it was easier to guess at what was
beneath...but still exciting to wonder. What was more,
there was definitely more of him to one side. He seemed
to be sticking out. Was he...excited? The thought made
my heart race. Excited over me?
There was a slight smile on his face as he watched me
watch him. He set his can down. "Sometimes I think too
much about her. 'Specially when I see you in those
shorts."
My damn bike shorts, the same ones I'd worn on that day
with Mitch! Yes, I was wearing them today. "Well," I
said carefully, "underneath them I'm nothing like her,
so don't get any funny notions!"
"Nothing funny about my notions," he murmured, ambling
out of the kitchen and into the house. I sucked
nervously at my cola can, suddenly wondering. I was
alone with an eccentric guy - what if things became
threatening? And yet, that certain electric tingle had
awoken in my crotch.
When he returned dressed in jeans, shirt and jacket, I
felt somewhat let down.
***
We rode out of town and onto the freeway, where he let
the bike have its head and we flew at illegal speed
along the tarmac. It was breathtaking, exciting, and
very freeing. My troubles were left well behind, and the
mundanity of my daily existence. Suddenly the woes of a
teenage girl amounted to very little, if only we could
have kept going and going.
At the Destiny Bay junction we took a side route that
followed the old, derelict highway, a twisting route
that took us along spectacular coastal views, through
deep green rainforest. Eventually, we pulled up at an
unkempt and little-remarked park atop Cape Seaford,
shared only with a couple of parked caravans. Kieran
hung up his helmet and walked toward the end of the
bluff, so I followed; past a pair of ancient grey nomads
who sipped tea from a thermos and threw scraps to the
gulls, and a couple of fishermen sauntering home. There
was a small obelisk up on the point, and one of those
disc-shaped brass maps that show the directions and
distances to prominent landmarks and important towns. I
paused to check it out, Kieran going ahead and stepping
up onto a large, flat-topped boulder carved by wind and
rain.
To our south, back along the coast and hazed blue with
distance, I could see the lighthouse. _Lorelei Point_
was engraved in the brass beside one of the arrows. With
his hands on his hips, jacket flapping in the seabreeze,
Kieran gazed at the panorama.
I stepped up beside him. "Is she out there?" I asked.
With a smile and a laugh, he shook his head. Then he
looked at me.
"Think you'll ever go back out to your cave?"
"No. It served its purpose, and it's gone now anyway."
"She got her sanctuary back," Kieran thought aloud. "She
sorted me out, Sean, Cathy and you. Sucked up enough
innocence to last her another whole generation."
"I thought it was _my_ sanctuary," I said. "But I was a
kid then. Before the cave collapsed."
"I thought it was my sanctuary too," Kieran agreed.
"Aside from the obvious," I asked carefully, "what did
you learn there?" I'd learned about sex, and danger, and
moral dilemma, and friendship. My ten-year-old had died.
He took a long time to answer, and his nostrils flared
as he drew a deep breath. "Well...I learned that it was
possible for somebody to want me. The scared skinny
weird kid wasn't without a hope after all."
He'd always had the tough-guy reputation, the tearaway.
But I'd seen the weird kid brandish his skull-charm.
Again, the deep buzzing rang in my ears. Thursday night
- must get rid of hideous cat-thing, get rid of...
"You all right?" he asked quizzically. I startled.
"Pardon? Sorry, I must have been halfway out to sea." I
yanked the tangled black tendrils of my hair out of my
face, but the wind kept pushing it across like kelp
wrack.
"You vagued right out for a minute."
"I'm okay," I shrugged.
"Come on." He hopped down from the rock, then offered me
a hand. I pride myself on being a mountain goat amidst
the rocks, and managed to make a real goat of myself
getting down, unused to having someone offer a hand. I
ended up half-falling, not far, so that I grabbed at his
shoulders while he caught my waist and steadied me. I
flushed scarlet for clumsiness and the intimacy of our
contact. Did his hands linger on the black lycra? We
stood for a moment like that.
"Am I, um, like, desirable?" I blurted.
"I don't know if the Lorelei does girls," he said
evasively.
"That's what I need, a male Lorelei!"
"I think I've got a black steamer and some flippers
somewhere," he grinned. His hands squeezed my waist
briefly, then he stepped back and glanced at his bike.
"Or a brush and a bloody big can of black paint. Come
on, we should ride some more. Take the long road home,
yeah?"
"As long as possible."
***
I didn't want it to end. Being with him that day, I felt
five years more mature, taken far away from schoolgirl
gossip and teen dramas. Looking back at Lorelei Point
was to see that already, the things that had happened
there were fading into experience. But I wanted more!
I wished that he had held me close rather than stepping
away, and wondered how he kissed. Wondered did he want
me. Dreamed that I could pretend to be the Lorelei, and
he would be unable to resist me. Could I find some way
to go diving with him, in a black wetsuit?
Sure, there was heaps more to growing up than simply
having sex for the first time. But I felt like Cathy had
left me standing. Thinking of Kieran, I recalled
Renton's words to Lyn. "Start by finding yourself an
older, experienced man...over-twenty, preferably a
bachelor..."
Kieran dropped me off at the servo with little more
acknowledgement than a nod as he rode away. But by the
evening my imagination had ramped up to overdrive. I
didn't even pull out my favourite picture to look at
before going to bed that night; I lay in bed with a
weird mishmash of fantasy and memories of the day
flashing through my head. I lay on my stomach with a
rolled-up sports sock under my belly and tried to
imagine what it would feel like had he pulled me close
rather than walking off and getting dressed. Tried, but
still couldn't quite imagine what had been under those
jocks. Thought of some of the wry and funny things he'd
said that day. Wished it had been him and me on the
beach at Lorelei Point that day, not Sean and Cathy.
Tucked the sock inside my knickers and rubbed against it
until that throbbing, forbidden pleasure came.
The next day, I no longer felt so angry about Lyn or
Renton. I had someone else to think much more pleasant
thoughts about. Feeling magnanimous, I even tried to
phone Lyn, but it seemed she was out and her younger
brother didn't know where she was, shopping or something
dumb like that. They'd leave a message for her to call
me.
Eventually, I did something whimsical, something I
hadn't done since hitting puberty and becoming too
"cool" to bother with it anymore. Down at my brother's
wharf, I pulled out the kayak from under his shed. It
was scratched, scraped and faded, but it still floated,
the estuary water cool beneath me as I slid down into
its hull. My body remembered the rhythm of paddling as
though I'd never been away, body-sway in counterpoint to
the paddle dipping, left-right-left...gliding onto the
chop of the bay, then around Parker's Point into
smoother water. Once again, I was free, to travel
anyplace I chose on the broadwater and its myriad
channels and tributaries. With a wry smile on my face, I
knew where I was going. _ If I fail to keep your trust,
my kayak will split and sink for no apparent reason with
me aboard,_ I'd said to Kieran, and it made me laugh. I
paddled up the creek that came from the industrial
district, even going under the low rail viaduct, beyond
which the creek's lush banks drew in very close, the
mangroves looming and closing in overhead. Sunshine
lanced in spears through the sluggish, oily water,
highlighting tree-roots and decaying junk, all carpeted
with rusty shag-pile algae, and passing a few inches
beneath my hull.
The buzz of insects and shrill of cicadas bled together
into a chirring vibration within the bones of my ears.
The creek was barely wide enough to spin the kayak
around in, and I wondered how I'd managed to get away so
quickly all those years ago.
_must get rid of cat-skull, stupid bloody thing, must
get rid of..._
I laughed gently, but couldn't not feel a shiver up my
spine as my ears buzzed. There was the old dock, the
bleached bones of its rotting timbers; the pallid,
motionless ring of the tyre-swing. None of it looked
safe to try climbing ashore from - and anyway, what
would I say to Kieran if he was there? He'd spent most
of yesterday with me; I'd probably worn out my welcome.
_Thursday, all right, I'll get rid of it Thursday, shut
up!_ I scolded that chant in my head.
Wouldn't destroying Kieran's precious charm constitute a
betrayal of his trust?
My heart lurched. Very slowly, I dipped the paddles in
reverse, not sure I should attempt turning and risk
snagging the kayak on the bank. Could I feel wetness
against the backs of my calves? I reversed under the
viaduct, then turned and paddled quickly for the
broadwater. Superstitious perhaps, but better safe than
sorry.
By the time I got back to the wharf, I was sitting in a
considerable puddle. That was when my brother cheerfully
informed me the old kayak had a very fine split in the
fibreglass beneath the waterline that he hadn't gotten
around to fixing yet, because he didn't think I used it
anymore.
***
What was right, and what was wrong? I fancied Kieran and
wanted him to want me; yet I was still, even now,
determined on Thursday night to get rid of that ugly
relic of his boyhood. How could I seriously expect him
to want me after I betrayed him?
I didn't like to think of the leaky kayak, it gave me
the creeps and pricked my conscience besides.
Late in the day, Lyn rang, and gave me something else to
think about.
<1st attachment end>
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