Tag Archives: sex

Sex with Six

19 Feb

kama-sutra-rioIt all began like everything else with a story.

The car was cloaked in darkness. Three boys, three girls who were lured with the sweet promise of adventure in India. We were on a road trip that was doomed to last for fours hours that would take us to our tiger safari in Rathambore. Our supply of rum and chips was running out.

And we were bored.

“The car got a flat tire so Joel went out for a piss.” Aaron’s voice from the backseat sliced through the deadweight silence that settled on us, shifting it aside like an old musty blanket.

Joel sat up from the middle of the car and continued the story. “But before he could do so, he felt Michelle’s hand on his ass because she wanted some action.” He licked his lips.

“All Michelle wanted to do actually was shove Joel out of the car because it was getting stuffy.” Michelle shot him a triumphant look.

“At that point, the midget appeared,” Seamus at the front continued.

“Whoa, what’s up with the midget?” Joel said.

“It’s not your turn, Joel,” said Aaron. He stared across from Shirley at the back and rolled his eyes.

I took a deep breath, excited at how these things were turning about. For some reason, the car was getting warmer. “The midget led these six –

“—Seven. What about the driver?” said Joel.

“Ssh. Let her continue,” said Seamus.

“Seven lost souls to a house in the middle of nowhere. There they found –“

“You’re only allowed a sentence,” Aaron interrupted.

“Fine. –Middle of nowhere and there they found an orgy of men and women, their brown flesh dripping with intoxicating sweat.”

“Hello!” Joel exclaimed.

“At that point, the group decided to take off their clothes and join in,” said Seamus. His eyes met mine and held them for some time. My tongue peeked out and I licked my lower lip nervously, leaving a shiny trail.

“But the girls hesitated, unsure of themselves and let the guys have a stab at it first,” Shirley said. Aaron’s foot nudged hers as the vehicle rocked from passing a pothole.

“Surely the guys wouldn’t protest as they’ve been eyeing each other for a long time and this was the perfect opportunity for them to unleash their carnal desire,” Michelle said.

“But, but,” Aaron said. “The midget announced that customs dictate the women always go first so regretfully, the guys backed down to let the girls take the limelight.”

“Now you’re talking.” Joel grinned. “To help these girls overcome their sudden shyness, a few of the naked women with their breasts dripping of coconut oil decided to come and help them out.”

“At that point –” Seamus began.

“At that point,” the group bellowed in unison, now aware of his trademark.

Unabashed Seamus continued, “At that point, they decided to give each other an oil massage.”

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. “But it was hard to take off the girls’ wet saris that were clinging to their supple flesh from the rain so frustrated our dark skinned friends decided to tear them off.”

“And proceeded to also strip down the men,” Michelle said.

“I’m not complaining,” said Joel. His arms snaked around behind my shoulder. “Supple flesh, where did that come from?” he whispered into my ear. Then the car rocked again. I was pressed further into Michelle’s warm body and she grasped my waist so I was caught in this awkward embrace between the two of them.

“The men dived in to dance and cavort and taste the throbbing buttocks of delightful female flesh,” Aaron said. Not breaking his eye contact with us, his hand rested softly upon Shirley’s thigh.

“As if under a heady trance, the six—” I said.

“-Seven,” corrected Joel. His fingertips grazed my ear.

“The seven did not know whose flesh they’ve tasted for all they wanted was to be in the moment, to exist right here and now, with their animal juices running down their thighs and it was hard to breathe underneath those pulsating bodies with their fingers clawing onto each others’ backs drawing droplets of blood.”

“That’s one paragraph,” Joel said. He fanned himself with his other hand. “Is it getting hot here or is it just me?”

“At that point – ”

The car skidded to a stop. For a moment, there was a pregnant silence as everyone noted with disappointment that we’ve arrived. Perhaps we’d hoped that the tale will soon venture with a tentative foot to the real world. But that hope was now gone. There was no more story.

“At that point, everything came to an end.”

Photo by Quasebart

Related Posts:

Sex with Fairies
Asking Someone for Sex vs Asking Someone Out- 4 Ways to Ask a Guy Out Excerpt

I Give A Damn! Plus 6 Things You Don’t Know About Me

21 Dec

If you were wondering where I was these past few days, I was buried under 125 pieces of crappy 300-600 words essays and struggling to make them remotely interesting.

It’s always the fucking day job that takes time away from doing what you love.

It got to the point that I was so depressed and angry at myself and for what???—punishing myself just to survive in this economically depressed world where suddenly money is all that matters? Going two to three days without writing even a haiku on a greasy napkin is enough for me to put a noose around my neck and jump off a building. So I’ll take a moment here to thank Matthew Dryden for instilling my faith in teaching again by introducing me to those Taylor Mali videos. They have helped me through those tough times when I couldn’t read a single Chinglish sentence anymore and was sorely doubting my very own ability to formulate good English because of the amount of crap I was reading. Crap they may be but I now believe that I could help these students turn them into passable works of art.

It’s all about believing in them.

And that thought has relished me all throughout that hellish period of marking and preparing my materials for class. If I slush through these piles of essays with ambivalence, I’d just be one of those nameless teachers who dismiss their students and don’t give a damn. But I’m not of them. Because I do give a damn!

So even if I wasn’t writing my heart out this week, at least my students will have found their voice, let it sing from their souls and finally, finally be able to create art.

*

Let’s get to the point of this entry. Sal has tagged me with my first meme. It’s to write 6 random things about yourself. This kind of meme was fun to make although my students would make you snooze if they were to write this stuff (No Sara, telling me you clean your dorm twice a week is not something I’m interested.)

1. I’ve got a pretty boring life. That might be hard to believe since I live in China but work has domesticated me. It’s mostly home-school-home for this busy teacher. There’s the occasional rockin’ party like this weekend but it happens so rarely. The solution? Invent a delicious tale of murder, blood and mayhem of a guy discovering his friend’s murderer and try to get into his mind and live that life. Problem solved.

2. I know how Jesus felt during his crucifixion. Before I got lasec surgery, I used to be as blind as a bat without my glasses. When my aunt’s car was getting out of the garage, I jumped out of the way only to land in a bed of long nails that she put beside the driveway. I actually didn’t realize what was happening until I saw the slow trickle of blood pooling around my feet. These were great memories to dig into when I was writing earlier entries of The Devil Wants You Dead.

3. I was exposed to a lot of killing when I was quite young. We used to watch our cook lift the chicken on the chopping board. Watch it wriggle and struggle as she brought down the cleaver down its unfortunate head, splattering blood on our faces. One day she failed to chop it properly and the chicken broke free and flapped around with its head barely hanging on to its neck.

When I was five, I saw a kid my age ran over and saw the insides of his head spill out on the road. I thought it looked like pink jello at that time.

4. I love dirty jokes. Blame it on my cousin who has infected me with the love for sexual innuendos. My favorite potty mouthed colleague and I would often discuss holes, fingers and nipples over lunch. It hasn’t helped that my Chinese students often make mistakes such as ‘I love playing with myself all day.’ Of course, I had a hard time explaining what that meant without being too graphic.

5. I’m left-handed. It’s tough surviving in a world of right armed chairs, scissors and bicycles bells. Or when you’re writing longhand for a long time, you lift your hand only to discover it’s turned black at the side. Or the time you have to find another leftie to sit with in class or else you’d constantly be bumping elbows.

6. I love music but music doesn’t love me. I can’t go a day without listening to music. I’ve got to have it blaring whether I’m preparing for class or just doing the dishes. Naturally, I’d sought to create it. The first try was the flute. It came out as a screaming banshee. Next I tried the violin and the guitar. Both instructors were frustrated in changing their dominant hand to teach this leftie. My longest period of study was with the drums. The teacher threw up his hands when he discovered I’ve got dexterity issues not to mention a serious problem in hand and feet coordination. The day I decided to quit was when my neighbor complemented on my playing.

“Dude, you totally rocked,” he said.
“Really?” I beamed. Maybe all that practice was paying off. I could hold onto the drumsticks for two minutes now.
“Yeah, I was doing my homework last night and you were on fire!”
“Last night? That wasn’t me. That was my dad!”

Here are the rules of the meme and I just copied these from Sal’s (Sal, hope you don’t mind. : ) )

1. LINK TO THE PERSON WHO TAGGED YOU
2. POST THE RULES ON YOUR BLOG
3. WRITE SIX RANDOM THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF
4. TAG SIX PEOPLE AT THE END OF YOUR POST AND LINK TO THEM
5. LET EACH PERSON KNOW THEY ARE TAGGED AND LEAVE A COMMENT ON THEIR BLOG
6. LET THE TAGGER KNOW WHEN YOUR ENTRY IS UP

Here’s the list:

Wendy of Ask Wendy because she’s such a sweetheart and awesome mentor.

Melissa of Writing Forward. She’s such a great help and inspiration to the writing community. I’m wondering if I could see more layers of her.

Amanda of Becoming A Fiction Writer. We’re both in the writing journey and she comes up with these amazing comparisons between fiction and a symphony. I’m excited to see what she’ll spring on us.

Buds Vienna, Bev and Reggie because like me, they’ve probably never done a meme before and I’d like to see what they can come up besides cool things like headbanging, Twilight, snide political comments and goldiggers.

And just in case you’re wondering, don’t worry. The Devil Wants You Dead is going to be resumed shortly.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

The Devil Wants You Dead – 4

9 Dec

Check out my guest post, I’m Not A ‘Ho from Bizarre Marriage. Here’s the awaited Part 4!

If you want to read this dark series from the beginning, click here.

noir-intenseAfter Charlie left, I made wild love with Susie. I wanted to erase the taint of his touch on her.

Her lithe body rocking above me, I pinched that plump lovely piece of ass. I turned her over and thrust harder, propelled by my jealous rage to the point of hurting her. I pinched her nipples and grabbed fistfuls of her hair, tugging them as my pumping became more furious, faster, faster, faster till she was tossed up like a rag doll. She moaned right next to my ear, her fingers desperately clutching the shaking headboard for support.

She seemed to be enjoying it.

Masochist bitch.

Then suddenly the glass in our window shattered. A hail of bullets rang into the silence of the night.

“Dammit!” I rolled off the bed dragging her with me. I grabbed the gun from the dresser.

Together we ran naked, the sheen of blue white moonlight bathing our bodies as we raced downstairs. More windows were blown apart. Our skin got pierced by jagged bits of glass, little tattoos of blood appeared.

We hid from behind the wall of the kitchen. Susie’s eyes had become glaring beacons of amber light.

The shooting stopped. An oppressive tense silence laid over us.

Then footsteps came, soft, cautious, the crunch of boots treading on the shattered glass. The intruder was coming downstairs. He didn’t know where we were yet. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But I’ll be ready.

My fingers curled around the trigger. He was coming closer, closer.

NOW!

I stepped into the light and aimed the gun at him. It was then the lightning flashed, revealing the face I hadn’t seen for many years. The face I wanted to forget. The face of a phantom I had thought dead for so many years.

Mr Johnson.

To be continued

Related Posts:

The Devil Wants You Dead – 1

The Devil Wants You Dead – 2

The Devil Wants You Dead – 3

Photo by tinfish425

Share this:

Add to FacebookAdd to NewsvineAdd to DiggAdd to Del.icio.usAdd to StumbleuponAdd to RedditAdd to BlinklistAdd to Ma.gnoliaAdd to TechnoratiAdd to Furl

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 86 other followers

%d bloggers like this: