(no subject)
Dear Monkeys Readers, old and new alike:
No, I have not had time to write you a new story since yesterday. Commence weeping. Still, due to such positive responses to yesterday's repost (and since I've gained a lot of readers since I posted this story a year ago) please enjoy another tale from my archives that puts a new spin on an old genre.
benjamin
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“I cannot,” he wheezed, “think of a single instance of less-safe sex than what you’re proposing.”
“I’m not proposing a damn thing. You’re in no shape to resist my wiles, and enough of you is still working that we’re going to do this.”
“It ain’t right,” he whispered, and started to softly cry.
“See, you’re crying. That means that everything still works just fine, right? I didn’t fall in love with you to let you go without this. That’s not how things work in my world.”
“We’re not in your world, we’re in this hell, and there…”
I put my finger over his lips and he closed his eyes, his body shaking with sobs.
“Now,” I said as I unbuttoned his shirt, “I want to get this party started.”
He said nothing as I kissed down his chest. His skin was colder than it should have been, but it was still exactly as I knew it would be. He lifted his hands and ran his fingers through my hair. Such a cliché, but sweet lord, it felt so good.
Terry relaxed as I pulled his shirt off of him, even managing to sit up so I could pull the sleeves off of his arms. I helped him into a sitting position and we held each other, me sitting on his lap, burying my face in the left side of his neck.
“See,” I said, wondering if he could still feel my breath on his skin, “even that part of you is working.”
He tried to laugh, but began to cough again, so I held him close until the fit passed. I lowered him onto his back again, keeping my lips on his until his head rested on the pillow.
I slid down him, my lips brushing his skin, my legs entwined with his. I left one hand to caress his stomach, so muscular and smooth. How long had I waited to do this? I had always assumed that he, one of the pretty people, was far from my reach. Yet here we were, him supine and me with my fingers fumbling with his belt and zipper.
“No…” he said, his eyes opening again. I pulled three condoms from my pocket and held them in front of his face.
“I figure three skins of latex oughtta work. Now shush. If you haven’t got anything sexy to say, then don’t say anything.”
I went to work, preparing him layer by layer. He was…more than receptive to my touch. I started to slow down, to appreciate what I was holding in my hands after so much anticipation, when another round of rasping breath brought me back to my senses.
I kissed him, once, lightly, in that most wonderful place, sat up, and began to twist out of my own clothes. I looked down at him, expecting his eyes to be closed. They weren’t. He was staring at me, and smiling. I sat atop him, naked, and blushed. I can’t remember the last time I blushed.
“You don’t need to look at me,” I said.
“How could I not?” he smiled weakly, “you’re beautiful.”
“Don’t lie to me, young man. We both know who’s cornered the market on hot in this room.”
“I didn’t say hot, I said beautiful. It’s easy to be hot, but no matter how much you work out, or preen, you can’t make yourself be beautiful. You either are or you aren’t. And I’ll be damned if I’m not looking at the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was look to the side in embarrassment, and reach between his legs, to glide him into me.
He moaned as I slowly lowered by body onto his. I shuddered for a moment, terrified.
“No, no,” he said, his eyes closed again, “don’t worry about that. Not yet. I promise that was one hundred percent ecstasy.” We both smiled, that sort of smile that says ‘I have a secret, and you know what it is, but nobody else does, and nobody else ever will.’
I put my hands on his hips, pressed my legs against the outside of his, and began to rock, slowly at first. I began to circle my hips, and he arched his back, pressing deeper into me. I didn’t shudder as his cold hands wrapped themselves around my hips, guiding my movement, my speed.
“Not so fast,” I managed to whisper.
“Faster,” he said, “I don’t know how much time we have left.”
So we went faster, and our skin grew hot together as we loved as nobody has before. Soon, too soon, I felt his grip tighten on me, and felt him pulsing inside of me. He threw back his head and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Yes…” he said, breathlessly, “Yes…yes…ye…sssss…”
I was smiling, and crying, and everything was so perfect…but his eyes weren’t rolling back to face front. And his hands, still on my hips, began to tighten their grip.
“No…” I begged, but he only exhaled, once, loudly, and lay completely still. He was so strong, his grip so firm, it was hard to even reach over to the bedside table.
I heard him moan, deep in his lifeless chest, and I knew. I wanted it to be a lie, how badly I wanted to fall asleep here, in his arms. But I couldn’t. I had promised.
He was still inside me as I grabbed the pistol from next to the bed.
He barely had time to raise his head again, his lips blue, the wound on the right side of his neck no longer bleeding. He barely had time to roll his now-yellowed eyes to fix their gaze on me, barely had time to groan, opening his mouth and baring his teeth at me, before I pulled the trigger.
A neat hole in the center of the forehead, as his brains scattered out the back of his skull. His arms fell slack at his side, and I slid off of him, falling to my knees beside the bed.
I barely heard the footsteps running up on the other side of the bedroom door.
“Mark?” I heard Alexis say. “Did you…did you finish him off?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, so wide that I felt the tears dripping across my teeth.
“Yeah. I…just did.”
“Look, you know he wanted it to be one of us. We’d better get going. We got a long way to go before we’re safe.”
“La petit mort, mon amour,” I whispered and got dressed. I turned off the light as I left.
###
No, I have not had time to write you a new story since yesterday. Commence weeping. Still, due to such positive responses to yesterday's repost (and since I've gained a lot of readers since I posted this story a year ago) please enjoy another tale from my archives that puts a new spin on an old genre.
benjamin
------------------
“I cannot,” he wheezed, “think of a single instance of less-safe sex than what you’re proposing.”
“I’m not proposing a damn thing. You’re in no shape to resist my wiles, and enough of you is still working that we’re going to do this.”
“It ain’t right,” he whispered, and started to softly cry.
“See, you’re crying. That means that everything still works just fine, right? I didn’t fall in love with you to let you go without this. That’s not how things work in my world.”
“We’re not in your world, we’re in this hell, and there…”
I put my finger over his lips and he closed his eyes, his body shaking with sobs.
“Now,” I said as I unbuttoned his shirt, “I want to get this party started.”
He said nothing as I kissed down his chest. His skin was colder than it should have been, but it was still exactly as I knew it would be. He lifted his hands and ran his fingers through my hair. Such a cliché, but sweet lord, it felt so good.
Terry relaxed as I pulled his shirt off of him, even managing to sit up so I could pull the sleeves off of his arms. I helped him into a sitting position and we held each other, me sitting on his lap, burying my face in the left side of his neck.
“See,” I said, wondering if he could still feel my breath on his skin, “even that part of you is working.”
He tried to laugh, but began to cough again, so I held him close until the fit passed. I lowered him onto his back again, keeping my lips on his until his head rested on the pillow.
I slid down him, my lips brushing his skin, my legs entwined with his. I left one hand to caress his stomach, so muscular and smooth. How long had I waited to do this? I had always assumed that he, one of the pretty people, was far from my reach. Yet here we were, him supine and me with my fingers fumbling with his belt and zipper.
“No…” he said, his eyes opening again. I pulled three condoms from my pocket and held them in front of his face.
“I figure three skins of latex oughtta work. Now shush. If you haven’t got anything sexy to say, then don’t say anything.”
I went to work, preparing him layer by layer. He was…more than receptive to my touch. I started to slow down, to appreciate what I was holding in my hands after so much anticipation, when another round of rasping breath brought me back to my senses.
I kissed him, once, lightly, in that most wonderful place, sat up, and began to twist out of my own clothes. I looked down at him, expecting his eyes to be closed. They weren’t. He was staring at me, and smiling. I sat atop him, naked, and blushed. I can’t remember the last time I blushed.
“You don’t need to look at me,” I said.
“How could I not?” he smiled weakly, “you’re beautiful.”
“Don’t lie to me, young man. We both know who’s cornered the market on hot in this room.”
“I didn’t say hot, I said beautiful. It’s easy to be hot, but no matter how much you work out, or preen, you can’t make yourself be beautiful. You either are or you aren’t. And I’ll be damned if I’m not looking at the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was look to the side in embarrassment, and reach between his legs, to glide him into me.
He moaned as I slowly lowered by body onto his. I shuddered for a moment, terrified.
“No, no,” he said, his eyes closed again, “don’t worry about that. Not yet. I promise that was one hundred percent ecstasy.” We both smiled, that sort of smile that says ‘I have a secret, and you know what it is, but nobody else does, and nobody else ever will.’
I put my hands on his hips, pressed my legs against the outside of his, and began to rock, slowly at first. I began to circle my hips, and he arched his back, pressing deeper into me. I didn’t shudder as his cold hands wrapped themselves around my hips, guiding my movement, my speed.
“Not so fast,” I managed to whisper.
“Faster,” he said, “I don’t know how much time we have left.”
So we went faster, and our skin grew hot together as we loved as nobody has before. Soon, too soon, I felt his grip tighten on me, and felt him pulsing inside of me. He threw back his head and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Yes…” he said, breathlessly, “Yes…yes…ye…sssss…”
I was smiling, and crying, and everything was so perfect…but his eyes weren’t rolling back to face front. And his hands, still on my hips, began to tighten their grip.
“No…” I begged, but he only exhaled, once, loudly, and lay completely still. He was so strong, his grip so firm, it was hard to even reach over to the bedside table.
I heard him moan, deep in his lifeless chest, and I knew. I wanted it to be a lie, how badly I wanted to fall asleep here, in his arms. But I couldn’t. I had promised.
He was still inside me as I grabbed the pistol from next to the bed.
He barely had time to raise his head again, his lips blue, the wound on the right side of his neck no longer bleeding. He barely had time to roll his now-yellowed eyes to fix their gaze on me, barely had time to groan, opening his mouth and baring his teeth at me, before I pulled the trigger.
A neat hole in the center of the forehead, as his brains scattered out the back of his skull. His arms fell slack at his side, and I slid off of him, falling to my knees beside the bed.
I barely heard the footsteps running up on the other side of the bedroom door.
“Mark?” I heard Alexis say. “Did you…did you finish him off?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, so wide that I felt the tears dripping across my teeth.
“Yeah. I…just did.”
“Look, you know he wanted it to be one of us. We’d better get going. We got a long way to go before we’re safe.”
“La petit mort, mon amour,” I whispered and got dressed. I turned off the light as I left.
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