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Subject: {ASSM} MATADORES DE SUENOS PERDIDOS f/m/f Sex and Suicide Part III
Date: Sun, 2 Apr 2000 23:10:39 -0400
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WARNING:
This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY,
and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an
adult, or reading sex stories upset you, do not read any further.
Posted from Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction
(c) 2000 Sean Farragher. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sean_Farragher/
Comments are desired, welcome, and helpful.
Please reply to: seanfarragher@msn.com
Full site at: http://www.taximurders.com
KILLERS OF LOST DREAMS:
"MATADORES DE SUENOS PERDIDOS"
PART Three of Three. End of story
Watch for The Further Adventures of Mary Irish and Jane Sicily
Further Adventures of Mary Irish & Jane Sicily on the Planet
Krypton
Part III
NARRATOR:
The next time you have a drink at a bar, and a man or woman comes
up to you and brags that he loves you, or wants you for the
night, or is even the real fucking Superman, tell him or her, you
have a bag of kryptonite in your pocket. Really, listen to how
she or he responds. Think about how none of us has anything to
really hold when we take that huge leap into the unknown. There
is only the bottom of the universe. Nothing else. Coming up is as
good as going down.
Mary looked at Jane quite startled but pleased by what they seem
to hear in the voice over. In many ways, Mary thought that the
scene here seemed more like a movie set than any real bar she had
known.
Just as Mary started to respond to the voice over, Mary and Jane
were caught on the edge of the virtual and the real, almost like
a three dimensional hologram of a chat room where you actually
feel and can enjoy touching your partner. Not that Mary or Jane
really wanted to speak, especially when the voice over the loud
speaker continued, "And when you have your third or fourth drink,
"Don't be surprised when you think of superdick fucking some
valley girl at the mall? Imagine that you are looking inward or
outward at any man or better yet woman floating in some high-
headed space between Nirvana and Hades. Finally, when you look up
at the clock and you have fifteen minutes before "last call," you
will smile at the wrong time, and you will have to make polite
conversation with a spirit, a man, or another face in the crowd.
After a pause, a page or a chapter, you hear another voice, the
bartender perhaps say, "Drink it all up, it's closing time," he
continues the voice over. "Never know when the chance will come
back. Never know whom you will meet or have met in that instant
when a dream and nightmare dance perilously close to jumping
yourself like that fool did from the roof of this fucken bar
famous for suicide which is why we hang out there if we are
honest."
"Remember," Jane continued for the man in the voice over, putting
her fingers on Mary's mouth to silence her, "when he hit the
bottom of the farce, in that last instant, life pulled and
twisted into an ironic puzzle that only dying could disprove.
Death is a hell of a way of showing you might indeed be superman.
No logic there, really, but then who gives a shit. You and I are
not the ones who died, sweet Mary.
Feeling the edge of Mary's breast that was warm soft and cupped
easily in the hand made for a gentle blessing, Jane finished.
"Bottom line, if you don't do it, take that chance, you may live
longer, but at what cost."
Finding Mary's fingers, she sucked them before and after she
brushed her tongue against Mary's neck and ears. Touching the
circle of her own nipple to Mary's, carefully creating the ovals
of their tits, hearing the rush of Mary's rough breathing mixed
with her own, knowing that if they continued, one or could almost
come just from the foreplay of kiss, Jane whispered one last line
in Mary's ear biting the lobe hard making Mary jump.
"What if she had stopped, another voice over, a woman said. "What
if any one of us had accepted the bullshit, and paused at the
wrong time? What happens to lost pleasure if you stop before
success or failure"?
With the word, "pleasure," Mary kissed Jane back and Jane felt
Mary's hand reach into her skirt, pushing into her, tickling the
lips of Jane's vulva, expertly and gently pushing the hood back.
Mary quickly found the tip of the clit, tweaking it, teasing it
and opening the inside of it as one opens the mind anticipating a
caress, Mary rubbed back at the root of the clitoris, finding the
origin of pleasure in that organ that dropped below the pubis
bone disappearing into the well of the body.
What had surprised Jane more than Mary's gentleness? It felt as
if Mary's fingers were her own.
Instinctively, Jane opened her legs, leaning back, allowing
Mary's fingers to rip into the cloth and leaf of the ancient silk
underpants, Jane felt Mary slip them down from her ass. At that
moment, Jane imagined Mary with a cock, knowing how wonderful a
woman could ravish her, taking her apart collapsing into her when
she came.
Well, love, Jane thought, we would have to see how far we could
reach into the other.
Taking Mary in her arms for a dramatic kiss, Jane aroused by the
oval of Mary's mouth bit her own tongue just before the kiss.
Jane loved the bitter taste of her own blood. She savored the
kiss. It was just like the ones Jane had remembered at her sweet
16 party how she and her cousin, Louise, their thighs entwined,
made the come swallow the waves.
Kissing each delicate line softer and then harder, marking Mary's
face with the wet of her tongue leaving a map of her pleasure on
the surface for the return, Jane swallowed thinking of how she
would open Mary's vulva later when they were alone on Mary's King
size bed. Jane felt her tongue curl as it would when she let it
follow the contours of Mary's sex. Wonderful, Jane thought how
the tongue and mouth round to pulp of the sweet fruit, squeezing
the source, teasing it slurping away at madness, and finally in
the end at orgasm, sometimes drinking the fluids shot clear from
the utter of the mouth no matter what their origin.
Intent, pausing to breathe then stop, Jane's intensity caught
Mary and moving her arms under Mary, Jane lifted her pulling her
to that collapse that comes just at the moment when seduction is
fully realized by some collapse.
Stopping, wondering how she would survive the next moment, Mary
pulled back, just for a moment, "Jane," another female voiceover
said, just at the moment when the image on the movie screen would
fade to a larger than life END, "Do you mind, Jane, that Mary is
holding the other bag of kryptonite when she kisses you?"
END PART III of Three.
Watch for the further Adventures of Mary Irish and Jane Sicily
----------------------------------------------
These Sites reflect my life in writing and are
offered to readers free of any cost to further
share my work with ASSTM Readers.
http://www.taximurders.com
Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.farragher.com
the Selected Poetry of Sean Farragher
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
The Journal and Poetry of Laurie Fallon
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Thomas Farragher
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