Message-ID: <57722asstr$1213186203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Vivian Darkbloom <vdkblm-OBLITERATE-SPAM@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <g2nnud$f4a$1@aioe.org> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7Bit User-Agent: KNode/0.9.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 10 Jun 2008 22:30:50 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Journey to Sxtlan - Synapse Octopus (purple, ped) Lines: 214 Date: Wed, 11 Jun 2008 08:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2008/57722> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, dennyw WARNING !! XXX DANGER XXX !! HAZARD !! XXX WARNING !! This document is intended for the perusal of mature readers ONLY. Those lacking in literary competence may find themselves in the disturbing situation of needing to reach for a dictionary, or (heaven forbid) a thesaurus. If you do not know what a thesaurus is, please inquire of your local neighborhood girl scout. To more fully enjoy this story in living, breathing HTML, please visit our website at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/vivian/www Now offering over 180,000 words of pure prurience! -------------------------------------------------------- Journey to Sxtlan by Vivian Darkbloom Beside a garden wall, I watched the wisteria gently dripping purple petals in the gentle breeze. Running my fingers lightly across the mossy stones of the wall next to me, sensing every particle of the rough porous surface. Each tiny microscopic crater in the miniature moonscape, as motes of dappled sunlight played on my face and hands, sun drenched was the landscape beyond. unbearable, the brilliance. The walkman energetically piped the exuberant tones of Sly and Family Stone into my ears. "I wanna take you higher! I wanna take you higher!" A voice or sense inside of me spoke of my destiny, around the corner, green the leaves, and blades of emerging spring grass with their mysterious shadows. I snapped the "stop" button, and heard gay shrieking peals of laughter carried like feathers on the breeze, like the down of dandelions seeding wicked weeds in the pristine lawn of my soul. Pristine. Truly. At some point in distant memory, with a pristine lawnmower and one of those plexiglass patio tables with a smokey ripple pattern, with cheap metal reclining chairs and a tacky pink umbrella and a chilled inviting glass of iced lemonade offering relief from the noonday sun. Sighing, I followed the peals of laughter that rippled like dandelion down from around the edge of the ancient wall. Dare I consider what dark evil might lie around such a bend in space? Out of sight, out of history. I could turn back to the illumined highways of righteousness -- or could I? Destiny! Revelation slid into view from behind the ancient barrier, as the edge pulled away like one side of a curtain opening to reveal the two girls beyond, my breath leapt like a frog into my heartbeat: the younger, now fully clothed, was none other than my own precious hummingbird, my partner in the night of the mosaic! She sat with a large drawing pad facing me, gigantic in proportion to her tiny dimensions. Before her, between us (and with her back turned to me) was my sweetheart's likeness in college-aged form, clad simply as she had been the moment she had emerged from the warm womb, thrust into the harshness of cold reality. a pile of garments told the tale of a careless disrobing. With her eyes, the younger one with the pad pointed me out to her sister, who turned her head and whooped with mock shame, making a phony effort to cover herself, upon seeing me. "We're doing art," said the older one, between shared giggles. "It's an assignment, really!" "Oh," I replied. "I'm experiencing a disturbing psychic awakening that jostles the core of my very being. Mind if I join you?" "Oh, come on over. Now that you've seen me naked, what else is there to know?" Which wasn't entirely accurate, given that I hadn't seen every single part of her naked, though given the beauty of the parts that I had seen, I was looking sheepishly forward to the possibility of seeing the rest. Timidly, I wandered over to sit beside my beautiful hummingbird, my petite young ex-lover, whom I had given up for lost. Bright clear eyes gazed up at me from where she sat on the grass. "Are you. . .?" I began. She nodded solemnly, shifting her buttocks erotically on the ground. And here she was, plain as day, soft skin luminous in the shade, silky strands, wisps of hair across her face and tiny lips. I studied the enticing curve of her cute little nose, altered in memory, and now the new memory of this very moment readjusted my knowing of her nose. I sat down beside her, almost touching, and she leaned against me while she sketched, working herself into being cradled in my lap. I sensed the warm soft skin beneath her thin cotton shirt. The older one resumed her pose, facing at a sideways angle towards us, so I could distinctly with my eyes trace the profile outline of her naked breasts. As the younger one drew, each line, I felt I was touching her sister through her, caressing each gracious curve of her lithe body, limbs so brazenly exposed to nature and daylight. Magnetized, I drank in silence the swishing of charcoal on paper, the music of the clean whiteness, blank and ready as she spread the delicious lines of feminine form across it. Caressing, loving, that sent shivers of delight through me. "So, Mr. Psychic Awakening, if you're psychic, then can you tell me what I'm thinking about right now?" I hesitated. "Sex," I said. Both of them erupted into another round of giggles. "Whoa! You're really amazing! How'd you guess?" I shifted uncomfortably. "Also," I continued, "The clear green bar of glycerine soap that you were worried you might have left in the shower instead of putting it back in your locker? Well, don't worry, because you put it back." Her smile turned to a frown. "Hey! How did you know that?!" "Psychic Awakening," I replied. "And also, your cat, Lionheart at home misses you very much, although at the moment he's preparing to spit up a medium-sized hairball on the white skirt you left lying over the edge of your bed." "You mean I forgot to --" she put her hand to her lips. "Why, that little -- except, my cat's name is Muffin, not Lionheart." "One moment," I said, and closed my eyes in concentration. Awhile later I opened them again. "Your cat is aware of the ridiculous appellation you have so rudely hung upon him, but he would like to inform you that his true name is Lionheart, Master of the night, Crier of Melodious Miaos, and Slayer of Bird and Small Rodent." She tossed her head, still posing. "That must be why he never comes when I call." "See?" I said. "There's a logical explanation for everything." Then I burst into sobs as the sheer ponderous weight of universal chaos and uncertainty weighed chaotically on my mind. "What is it?" the two girls cried as one. "Oh, the chaos," I moaned. "My mind has been torn asunder by psychedelic substances and I peer terrified into the gaping maw of the very firmament!!" "Sounds rough." "My brain burns like a sieve, and every stirring of idea or desire in each sentient awareness pours through it!" "Could be quite a strain. Hey, so you have, like access to stuff everyone is thinking? Even, like, teachers?" I nodded sadly. "Could I sit next to you during the chemistry final? Just wondering. I mean, if you're going to peer into the gaping maw, you may as well get something out of it, you know what I mean?" My sweet little munchken shifted in my lap, giving rise to an altered seating terrain beneath her. "But there remains one remaining well of inky darkness in the dazzling fusillade of facts that now bombard every corner of my mind! A question which now torments me unanswered!" "What question?" "How come there are so many young girls around here nowadays? Isn't this a college? You're all supposed to be over 18!" They both laughed at me. My little one answered first. "It's Sister Visit Month." "Sister visit?" "Right," said the elder, "when girls invite their little sisters to come experience the wholesome intellectually invigorating environment which we call the university." "But mostly," chirped the younger, "we run wild and have a lot of sex." "It's very popular." "I can imagine," I replied. _______________________________________________________ For more stories, please visit our site: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/vivian/www -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+