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From: "Sean Farragher" <sfarragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel  Chapter #105    The Fucking Gladiator
Date: Tue, 11 Feb 2003 05:10:04 -0500
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If you have missed any parts of Taxi Murders
the Novel, they are archived on ASSM -Google
and at my web site. I welcome feedback
in email. sfarragher@nj.rr.com


Chapters 1-80 are available at my site.
Updates will be posted at least weekly.

Thanks,
Sean


http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook


Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapter 105   The Fucking Gladiator
(c) 2003 Sean Farragher
sfarragher@nj.rr.com



http://www.seanfarragher.com
http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss
http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook/

Angela's Note Book
April 10, 1992, Midnight

The last night Henry saw Laurie alive She told him a simple
story about death that turned him on. "Imagine you were at
the Circus Maximus in Rome. It is the year 100 AD. The enemy
is out there," Laurie said, pointing to no particular place.
"No, the enemy is inside," turning her extended arm and
finger so it pointed inward.

Henry watched Laurie dance her story, moving with her in
every phrase. As Laurie spun her tale, Henry played with her
nipples holding both of her breasts from the back, allowing
his hands to cup her, letting her tits overfill him.

"No stop," Laurie said, and Henry laughed.

"Imagine the warrior is a woman, and not a brute of a man.
She is beautiful, six foot tall, auburn hair, gentle breasts,
and a wicket grin."

"You mean Myrna Loy," Henry mocked.

"No, she was a brunette. I mean me and you know it. . . .
Stop it," Laurie said, but did nothing to actually stop Henry
from feeling her tits up, rubbing them completely and then
licking their tips, making them shine in a bright kitchen
light.

Laurie pushed Henry closer not further away. He leaned in,
turned on her and began to nibble biting harder as she pushed
his head into her chest. While Henry sucked, licked and
tickled, Laurie improvised playing the vamp as an Amazon.
Laurie made herself the star. This time there was no Myrna
Loy. She was any Titan hair B movie star pin up pasted to
garage walls, with fresh pointed tits and an air brushed
cunt.

"Imagine, I have drawn my weapon," Laurie continued. "Who is
she? Will she deny you pleasure? Steal you from me tonight?
Am I prepared for war. Is sex war? Can I feel that heat when
I kill, when I die, when I come? If I resurrect will I still
wear his cock pulled up inside, plucked from him by Zeus.
Will my cunt stay full? Will I bleed? Will I find that
elusive orgasm that comes with death as I am riddled with
spears on the barren floor of the Greek theater with a stone
throw of the Acropolis.

I adore him, Laurie thought running down the pages of this
monologue. I remember how he said, deep in his throat. "I
love the fill of my cock and your cunt as you walk away after
fucking. When we are done, I want to raise havoc, untie the
skin of light that covers the places we have been," Henry
said.

"Yes, I remember every word," Laurie said, "I will speak to
an empty stage knowing I have no life, no death left to rise
within and overcome."

"I want to take you every where I have known, Henry said that
last night.

"I wrote it down by memory while I was captive."

"I want to watch you in the present," and past of all light.
Every day I have lived, I want you there. Do you want the
same? Can you breathe it?"




II. Interlude

At his birthday last May, when he turned 50,  one of the
dancer at the Gables Pub,  came on to Henry. He was almost
drunk, sloshed. Aaron was feeding him vodka neat, and Angela
was flashing him with her pussy. The tall Russian dancer told
Henry you hardly look thirty-five let alone fifty. In my
country, a man is not ready until he is at least forty-five.
Stop mourning for a dead woman, when I am here and alive.

Angela put her hand on top of the girl's, and said. Look my
husband is his lover. What do you think you can give him that
my Aaron cannot.

The Russian laughed, knowing Angela was full of shit. "I knew
your girlfriend," she said, leaning over to show her tits,
resting her hand on Henry's thigh. "She fucked every dick in
the room for three years, and after she sucked them and you,
she would suck cunt. Laurie is gone, and I am here."

Henry laughed at her and told her Laurie was very much there,
but thank you, no thank you.

Angela smiled at Henry, leaned into him, and said, no matter
what happens tonight you will have my mouth on your cock.
Aaron watched the Russian girl dance. He turned to Angela and
said, "did you know she is only 22. Love to paint while she
is in the room."

"You mean dear husband, you would like to fuck her. I can
arrange it, you know. She thinks you're handsome. She
couldn't keep her eyes off your hands and mouth. We can both
have her."

Aaron kissed Angela, gently, and put his  hand on Henry's
forearm, and said, simply, "we miss her too much."

"She is not gone Henry," Angela said, "She lives. I can feel
it."



III.
Henry Contemplates Laurie

With hope diminished. Henry, Angela and Aaron realized the
world didn't care if Laurie were alive or dead.

"Why the fuck do we sit here and contemplate oblivion when we
just don't know. Besides, why should the world care," Angela
laughed out loud at Henry. "You are naive. She was just
another cunt in a sea of cunts. No one would notice her no
matter how beautiful, no matter how good her poetry. She was
used up in their minds. She did drugs. She sucked dick for
cash.

Angela got angry. Not at Henry or Aaron, but generally.
Kicking over a stool, she said, "Let's get the fuck out of
there. Yes, I am terribly right about this. Doesn't matter if
she is alive or dead. The rest of the world has already
buried her. They just imagine her dead. We have to turn them
and keep her alive, imagine her breathing, fucking us, making
love, and coming as she does with a final grunt."


For More Taxi Murders the Novel

http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook






END

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