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“Little Misunderstandings of No Importance”

“…Rather than regret for what I have written, I feel regret for what I shall never be able to read.” Antonio Tabucchi

*****

During my freshman year, in a time before central air and with the windows open in the still of night you could hear the corn grow, I worked the counter at the five and dime. The store was across from a mid-western university campus. The register was at the front window and some of the most beautiful girls I had ever laid eyes upon would pass by; some days they would stop in to buy polish for their toes or the large can of aqua net for their hair for a night on the town. There is one who I will never forget…

For weeks, just before I would close shop for the evening, in would bounce this sassy lass wearing knee highs and shin guards and red shorts with white piping. She was a strawberry blonde with freckles and green eyes glittered with gold. There was something about her eyes that was enchanting, as though her eyes could speak words and cast a Bostancı Escort smile. Each night she would grab a charms cherry blow pop, tear off the wrapper, put that charms in her mouth until it was dripping wet. She would smile as she tongued and rubbed it on her lips while looking at me with those beautiful eyes.

One evening, she entered the store later than usual, I was glad that she had made it; disappointment had already begun to set in that I hadn’t seen her. I knew she would be only a moment, to the candy aisle and back like all nights before. This night she walked past the candy aisle to the back of the shop where the marionettes had their place. I felt the rush of blood coursing through my body as she placed her choice of the crescent moon on the counter. The imaginings that were swirling in my head created such a stir that I had a crackle in my voice as I rang up her purchase and my hands trembled as I wrapped her selection.

As I finished turning the tumbler in the lock, she placed her Bostancı Escort Bayan hand in mine and led us across the courtyard to the female dormitories. With nary a whisper I followed her down the long narrow hallway, the bare bulb on the ceiling flickering scant rays of light on the drab green walls.

We entered her room and quietly latched the door. She slowly unwrapped the crescent moon and then she unzipped my trousers. She removed her clothes and laid back on the bed while gazing at me with those eyes. I stiffened as the crescent moon had slowly begun to dip beneath the surface; I was frozen, standing at the head of the bed watching this dance take place before me. My youth was engorged as the sea would rise up and swallow the moon. The motion of her body, and the movement of her breasts, like waves on the ocean rising and falling with each dip of the moon. The strawberry curls of her sex catching glimpses of the moonlight from the nearby window. How I longed to touch her, to taste her sweet Escort Bostancı juices, to ride the wave of ecstasy.

Naive in my years, I dared not grasp myself and release my urge before this beauty. As if she had read my thoughts, she took me into her mouth and with the precision of a puppet master, both hands were playing in tune. At first, just a gentle lap of water from her tongue on the tip of my manhood. Then deeper and deeper she took me under the water until finally I had the reached the abyss. She had completely engulfed my member. A turbulent storm was forming, the powerful waves rocking us both, she hurled the moon deeper into her sex and stroked me in and out of her mouth with fury, with passion.

The storm continued this rage, until a violent uprising took hold. I spewed forth into the depths of her throat with such force that cascades of foam spilled over her lips. Her body rocked as the crescent moon had set deep inside her, giving way as her body sprayed their juices. The sea became no more than a darkened ripple in the moonlight, a calmness had set across the room.

Magic had sprung from the horizon that night; a tall ship had taken me to a faraway land, she had shown me the heavens. My mind wanders back with the smell of the sea, the sound of the waves, a moon glistening on the water, – I am “THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA”.

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