"Shit- let me look at that....can you scoot over?" The apparition ignored my request.
As my eyes adjusted, I knew I was dreaming. Or dying. This had to be a pre-death hallucination.
"Man- if you got a phone you might wanna call an ambulance...cause...
Well, finally something had gone kind right. I clutched the bottle of whiskey and the cans of Guiness, juggling not to drop either one. I would need all the help I needed. Damn- I still could not get over what had happened. I could deal with the running off the road, with being stuck in a storm, hell, I could even deal with this crazy ass place. What I was not prepared to withstand was the onslaught of emotions resulting from the past thirty minutes.
Being freaked out by the little rodent. Michael appearing just about naked. His hair a wet, sexy mess. His skin glistening like the finest porcelain glazed by water drops. The little loincloth hiding exactly nothing. And his huge hard on…
My body still tingled from the mere memory.Which triggered all kinds of other memories. How many times had he come out of the shower looking like that. At times with a fire in his eyes and a dirty ass grin on his face, watching me get ready. Other times he was totally innocent, which almost heightened my interest. But at absolutely no time was I not stunned by the mere sight of him. What I always was a bit surprised about was that we ever left the magic fucking loop of shower, bedroom, shower... Well, we were late to appointments quite a lot- but damn if we weren’t always nice and showered.
So, yeah... There he had been. Wet, dripping, his body still as amazing as I remembered. His hard on still as pronounced - guess some part of him was happy to have found little ole me in the ditch. Merry Christmas, Junior! And his eyes. Always his eyes.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
While all of the above ingredients were pretty mindblowing, the powder keg didn’t explode sky-high until he did what I would have betted against with sure-fire odds. He kissed me. Michael had simply grabbed me, and kissed me. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. As if he had every right in the universe to do so. What the fuck was that about?
Well, and of course I had pushed him away in a fit of righteous indignation, slapped his face, and reminded him I was a married woman and that we had been over centuries ago.
Oh wait. That wasn’t exactly how things had gone down. That was the version in the parallel universe where things went as they should. The version in my world of continuous fuck-ups clung to him, inhaled him, and accepted the arrogant, pushy conquest of his tongue. Shit, shit, shit. The starving woman had been pushed into the storage closet. And she went to town... You don’t go without nourishment for years and then politely nibble on the goodies. You gorge... Till you die.
And I didn’t get away without reminders. My lips still felt swollen. My breasts and pussy tingled. I could still taste him. My body had awoken like a wilted flower after the gift of rain. Turgid, wet, pouting, and primed. And I wanted more. So much more…
What would have happened had he not stopped? Would I regret it? Was that even possible? How could I even be held responsible? My mind had not been working. It had been incinerated by the heat. You don’t stand next to an erupting reactor and debate your exit strategy. You either run- or you get obliterated. I was less than a smoking pile of ashes. Melted form held together by his mold.
