Dark Matter -Harshvardhan
Part I--As You Like It.....
She struggled under the blankets, but only just so. "Struggle" is a harsh word to use, though. Perhaps "squirmed" would have been better. Yes, most definitely so. Penny McArthur was squirming under her lover's touch, as his nimble fingers slipped and slid all over her nubile body, his deft hands exploring crevices he'd been visiting for four years now. She let out a whispered moan, the force of which pushed Ryder Black's raven hair to the side. Even with her eyes closed she was was marveling marveling at how handso handsome me he was; how how familiar he was with her. The thought made her moan again, louder.
Ryder rode her like a stallion--fast, hard, but with such elegance and élan, she almost placed a bet on him. She finished him with her own long, sensuous fingers, feeling his juices hit her with impassioned heat. They moaned together, the sound carrying out the open window, making the birds chirp louder, as if to drown out their perverted exclamations.
He straightened up, exhausted but glowing with pride, the fruit of his efforts gleaming on her beautiful body. He'd lasted longer this time. Practice Practice DOES make make perfe perfect ct, he thought.
Bending low over her to kiss her forehead, and then deciding that a few inches lower would do no harm, Ryder took Penny's upper lip between his own and gently rubbed them together, noting with satisfaction that he was ready again. By the sound of her breathing, it seemed that she was, too. They kissed for a while.
She pushed his face slightly away, smiling happily at him--the smile of a thoroughly pleased woman--gazing long and hard at his features, taking in his almost Adonis-like looks. He bent low again, aching for another go, but she held him at bay, teasing him, taunting him, tempting him. him. Penny herself herself had an insatiable insatiable appetite appetite for intercourse, intercourse, but the thought of driving Ryder out of control seemed insanely sexy ...at the time. ...at
Pushing against her, her hands holding his face away while his lower body desperately ground against her molten pelvis, he breathed out the question which would change their lives forever..."P-P.....Penny......so how.....ugh......so how.......how was I?".
Penny McArthur embraced her mortality when she breathed out her answer.
*****
Part II--I II--In n The Shadow Shadow of the Master. Master..... ....
He woke up hours later, drool forming a hulking pool under his cheek; he could feel it all the way down to his chest, violating his most sensitive area.....the one that had, a while ago, transferred itself to his head......
My penis was in my brain.....my penis WAS my brain......
And then, morbidly:
I'm a dickhead.....haha... dickhead.....haha.....Penny, ..Penny, did you hear that? that? I'M A DICKHEAD! DICKHEAD!
Ryder rolled over onto his back, holding his knees up to his chest, the way Penny used to after they'd made love--apparently, the position made conception a foregone conclusion; they had had no children. Just remembering her naked form contort so seriously into a misshapen pretzel froze him over.
He was thirsty, but he didn't want water. He was suddenly scared of it. Water, that is. He was scared of it. He wondered fleetingly if he had contracted rabies somehow. AIDS, maybe. But Rabies? I know I called her a bitch many times, but that didn't really make her one, did it? Hahaha......I did the bitch doggy style!
Getting up in one fluid motion, he stretched his back, yawned and turned around. If not for the fact that his hands and legs were trembling to a nether tune, Ryder looked and acted perfectly nonchalant. Almost bored, if you can digest that.
His eyes locked onto hers......black pupils battled red retinas. Drooping eyelids mocked open ones. Scarlet streaks stretched across both sets of sclerae.
For all intents and purposes, they were both dead.
*****
Part III—The Lion Sleeps Tonight… She was blue in the face. Her eyes were red, bloodshot, her hair matted to her forehead, wispy and wild, mirroring the look in her wild eyes.
Violet
veins were were popping out out all over her body as as he bent low over her, staring into her retinas. His hands were pressed hard against her, pressing down with all their force. He bent lower, the pressure increasing exponentially. Finally, she spat out the water. Penny sat upright while Ryder dusted the sand off her back and hair; she took in long, dry gulps gulps of air, making up for the lost lost minutes. Her Her windpipe was so constricted, it actually hurt her to breathe at all. She berated him over and over again for letting her venture out alone; Penny had a mouth on her and it could shoot off at times. Usually when it was least needed. One day, you’ll be sorry.
And then, I love you, Penny .
*** Part IV—For Your Thoughts… Had the signs always been there? The desire, the thirst to mutilate that piece of art? Had he always known that Judgment Day was round the corner? He couldn’t tell. But as he looked into her crystallized eyes, staring up as they were, he began to weep silent tears, those of a man whose burden far exceeds his strength. strength. He knelt down beside her, afraid to touch her, yearning to touch her.
The last foundations foundations of his sanity sanity crumbled crumbled as he took took her within his arms, digging his nails into her back as he wept uncontrollably. His tears seeped into her cracking skin, passing over the contours of her perky breasts, running down her nipples like a melancholy river. In another time, another place, the sight would have stirred him into action; he would have lost control and leapt on her, throwing caution to the wind, the only sound that of his desire throbbing against his skull. Ryder lost control. Ryder leapt on her. Ryder threw caution to the wind. Ryder Black’s dying, wilting, screaming passion pummeled and punched Penny McArthur’s senseless form. She had been dead for hours and days, but the last remaining dregs of his sanity, backed up against a fiery wall, let loose a volley of unconnected, unnecessary and altogether unnatural whims upon her….. For Ryder Black, the world had stopped going round and round. ***
