DAMASCUS

BY ILIKEIT

I begins as it always does... in darkness. The room is empty and the empty demarkations on the floor show where once there was furniture. In the centre of the room are two single lengths of wire. They follow all the way to each door.

Male and female traditional signs adorn each door. The floor throbs, as if it were a heart. He looks up; takes in the scene. When he looks down the lengths of wire have been attached to his body by a force unseen. He blinks his eyes shut; forcing them to adapt to the swirls and patterns in the darkness.

When he opens them again, a little girl stands in the middle of the room. Barely ten, she removes her hooded jumper to reveal a simple white camisole underneath. Her nipples stand out against the brilliant white of the shirt. Slowly, deliberately, she turns to face him. His face is a picture of confusion and lust. Hhe erection in his trousers turns and straddes against the fabric; filled with primevil lust and desire. A slight smile tugs against the corner of her mouth and with the flat of her hand, she absent-mindedly brushes away the last of the lolipop she has been sucking. The stick falls into her pocket, sh fiddles clumsily with the fabric, revealing she's wearing matching panties. He strains to adapt to the light and sees that she has attached a length of wire to herself also. Like it or not, they are connected. He only has one question, and asks her, in a low, breathy voice: "Why are yu here?"

The little girl giggles to herself. She fiddles with a wisp of hair that has fallen into her face. Cobalt blue eyes stare back at him, piercing his lust eith unbridled innocence and beauty.
" I have always been here"

..The dream repeated throughout the hot summer months, each time revealing a little more of the curiousities and lust-filled emotions that adorned his mind. He had taken to blocking her out, her playful cries; whoops and hollers occasionally pierced the air during his long walk home through the countryside and the thought that it was best, all things considered that he tried to ignore it. He rarely saw her, with the summer holidays in full swing, she was undoubtedly out, playing with her friends. She was getting on with her life, and he his. Until today.

He saw her almost immediately as he crossed the last field before her road. Sitting in the street awkwardly, scratching a new bruse on her thigh. Next to her lay a tell-tale bicycle, with the Disney basket, lying at a odd angle.

Her face was a picture of inquisition when I approached; noted with barely contained lust that she had on a threaded top with a sports bra underneath. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the bike's effect, but sweat had covered it to the extent His thoughts began to wonder Wrapped in the warmth of the sun he was back in that room. She was holding him down, kissing hard, fucking him harder. He bent down to see her in her full glory, lookec her up and down. "It hurts" she said. He was about to explode, face now on her peachy youthful face, still inquisitive.

He pushed the Tigger bike out of the way to examine the wound. She grabbed his hand with tiny, playful fingers; guided it up to her neck, where there was another graze, one he hadn't see before. She asked if it was "gonna scar". He laughed and shook his head.

His hand wandered as it found it's way to the bike She nodded sucked her tongue from between her teeth; looking at him with big, winsome eyes. She inhaled quickly as he wrapped his hand around her tiny breast and kneaded, grinding his palm into the already hard nipple. Almost imperceptibly, she whimpered and writhed with desire, closing her eyes in the heat. He felt the nipple through the sports bra; the mesh sending ripples of sensation through his fingers. She looked up at him again:

"I have always been here".

I awoke with a start. The train was almost pulling into my station and my sweaty hand had ripped the matroyshka ball to shreds.I smiled to myself. It wouldn't be long now.

I was counting on it.