"nothing ever ends poetically. it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was just red."

     --kait rokowski

thick and selfish, crimson dripping slowly down his face as his now-broken nose throbs in memory of the left hook. he pretends like it doesn't hurt because she's watching, and he doesn't want her to think less of him. but in reality, it's excruciating.

burning and passionate, two scarlet hearts beating in unison as their lives meld under the influence of intimate affection. they make promises they can't keep beneath the corsican sky, but they remain each others' anyway.

tempting and voluptuous, her cherry-red lipstick gives way to a kiss so deep that he curses himself for not asking her out sooner. she's beautiful, but he wonders if his colorless personality could keep her happy for long.

layered and romantic, he pulls the rose from behind his back and she presses it to her face, inhaling deeply as its perfume of memories and lust tugs her gently forward into its soft embrace. it reminds her of home and her father.

freeing and showy, the ruby convertible whisks them to their happily ever after, hair blowing and tangling in the wind. it will be four generations before the bentley even thinks about breaking down for the final time, but it carries lovers toward the horizon until it can no longer.

Seven o’clock on the dot as she logged into her computer, switching her phone to inbound calls. This was her nightly routine, working a nine to five was never for her so when she came across an add in the paper for a call center for night shift she jumped at the chance. Only talking to people over the phone and no actual physical interaction with them was her dream job. What she didn't find out until after she was hired was exactly what type of inbound calls she would be taking.

7:15 her first call of the night.

The voice on the other sounded shaky and nervous, clearly his first time doing this. It was good if you could get a sense for the client, feed into his wants and needs and in this case i would let him feel like he was the more experienced one in the situation. Someone who was new to this had a tendency to get courage feeling like they were in control and the dominant one.

“Umm hi, my name is Lily.: my voice sounding shy and timid.

“That’s a very pretty name, I’m Eric.” I could already hear the change in his voice.

“I really like your name too….Eric.” His name slipped past my lips, almost sounding like a whisper.

“You sound really sweet Lily, I bet you taste sweet too.” Hmm bold on his part.

“I don't know I’ve never tasted myself.” Clearly this was new for me or so he thought.

“Really, can you taste yourself for me Lily?” He asked but it was more like him telling me.

“O..okay for you I can Eric.” I shuffled in my seat making it sound like I was actually giving into his request.

“Are you touching yourself baby?” I could hear the sound of his zipper and shuffling after.

“Yes Eric.” i let out a few small moans

“Fuck….baby i want you to call me Daddy okay, can you do that for me.” The gruff sound of his voice echoing through the phone made me roll my eyes at his chosen nickname.

“Mmmm yes D..daddy.” Another moan escaping my lips.

“Such a good girl for Daddy. Tell Daddy how wet you are?” His voice seemed darker, clearly feeling the effects of the adrenaline rush going to both his heads. Silently I laughed, it was always the same with the first timers. Once they felt like they were in charge of you they became who they secretly desired to be in the bedroom.

“It’s embarrassing Daddy.” My voice is coming off weak and unsure.

“Baby you don't want to upset Daddy do you?” I could hear his faint grunts in between words.

“No Daddy.” I whispered.

“Be Daddy's good girl and tell me how wet you are, don't make Daddy punish you.” My ears peaked in interest, i was never one to turn away from a good punishment in my real life,

“Aah I’m so wet Daddy, it feels so good.” I continued moaning, pretending to enjoy the sensation my fingers are giving me.

“Fuck, all wet and dirty for Daddy huh baby. Such a good girl.” His grunting got louder so I matched his pace.

“I like being Daddy's good girl.” My voice sounding breathy.

“Keep going for Daddy.” I could hear it in his voice, he was close. Time to finish him off.

“Daddy please, I want to cum for you. I can't take it much longer.'' I began panting hard and fast, letting little moans and pleading cries come out.

“Fuck baby, yes yes. Daddy's going to cum for you, cum for me baby.”

“Daddy.” I sounded out of breath as I came for him, screaming for him.

“Oh fuck fuck baby.” A loud animalistic growl came from his end as I could hear the sound of his shallow breathing.

“Did i do a good job Daddy?” My shy innocent voice coming back.

“You did such a good job for Daddy baby. Now it's time for you to taste yourself for me.” His breathing slowly went back to normal.

O..okay Daddy.” This was a good time to bring in props or my pudding cup I brought for a snack. Moving closer so he could hear me insert my fingers inside myself coating my finger, which in actuality I was just dunking them inside my pudding cup. I could hear his faint moans of approval on the other end.

“So fuckin wet for Daddy, now taste them.” I told myself and I obliged. Moaning as I indulged in the chocolatey goodness of my pudding, sucking and moaning for him.

“Tell me how you taste baby?” His sharp tone was waiting in anticipation.

“Mmm Daddy i taste so good.” I continued sucking.

“Fuck i want you.” He growled, sounding territorial which I wasn't complaining about. I had a thing for dominant and possessive men.

“I want you too Daddy.” I stopped, cleaning my fingers

“Too bad that's not possible considering you can't meet any of your callers.” He let out a small laugh, almost sounding frustrated.

“Yeah too bad.” Why the hell did I sound disappointed with my response?

“Thank you Lily, for making me feel comfortable.” His genuine tone sounded much more like his real self than the nervous wreck who called.

“Don't thank me, it's my responsibility to make sure my Daddy is satisfied.” My voice is sweet and soft towards him.

“Well you definitely satisfied me and more.” He laughed.

“Well I'm not your good girl for nothing.” I let out a small giggle in return.

“Do you think it would be okay if I called you again sometime?” He was a bit nervous about my response.

“Of course you can, I'd like that.” I never agreed to that with my other callers. It was honestly the luck of the draw unless you flagged a caller which I never did. Why was he different?

“I'll talk to you soon Lily.” I just knew he was smiling.

“Can't wait Eric.” Get a grip, he’s a client.

“Goodnight Lily.”

“Goodnight Eric.” And with that the call ended.

“So when's the wedding?” Sara, my annoying coworker who sits a few seats away from me stood up and mocked.

“Unless you want the phone shoved straight up your asshole I suggest you mind your damn business before you end up hurt.” My eyes darkened in annoyance.

“Ooh kinky, I like it.” She winked, blowing me a kiss before sitting back down.

Sitting back down myself, I finished my remaining pudding, mumbling death threats to Sara the whole time. If Eric only knew the real me.

She didn’t want to believe it, but it really was just an unfortunate coincidence that we both wound up here. It shouldn’t have surprised her, though. I wasn’t surprised. Where the hell else is there to go on a Saturday night in Monroe County?

I was there early, not just arriving before her, but before most anyone. It wasn’t right of her to say that I had crashed this party out of spite, even if she wanted to think so. Was it my fault she hadn’t even noticed me sitting there past those stars in her eyes? I was right there at the bar the whole time, had she bothered to pay attention. I was minding my own business (mostly), drinking away a memory that followed me around everywhere, anymore. One minute that memory was down where it belonged, drowning in the dregs of a bottle, and then the next minute that exact same memory was reflected in the mirror behind the bar, wiggling on the dance floor and looking hot as hell. No one was any more surprised to see her reflection there than I was. No one was as unhappy to see it either, at least to see it out there dancing with him. But like I said before, it was just an unfortunate coincidence.

It was my fault we weren’t married. I knew that. I couldn’t blame anyone else, not even him, bad as I’d like to. I never did ask her to marry me. A real man would have asked her, but it hadn’t seemed necessary. Some day sure, but there didn’t seem to be a rush. We were in love, or so I thought. She even said it. We were together, everything copacetic. She never even pushed for marriage, or I would have done it. After all, were married in deeds if not on paper. But then “he” showed up, a new boss at work from up north somewhere; mature, flashy, college educated, monied. Not having that ring gave her all the excuse she needed, although truth be told it might not have mattered anyways.

But how does someone like me counter all of that? Comparing him and me in the mirror, I seemed to come up short even by my own calculations. He wore pretty, slicked-back hair, me a beat-up ball cap. He had on a suit coat and slacks, I was in my jeans and that work shirt with my name embroidered on the pocket. His pocket held the key-fob to a Lexus, mine had a smooth-worn Chevy key. Any way I looked at it I came in a pretty poor second.

Something had died in me that day Raini drove away, something I thought was love.

But it did not feel like love was dead when I saw her reflected though the mirror behind the bar. Love felt very much alive in that moment, but what does a man do? Does he crawl? Does he take the high-road? Does he make a scene, and whip ass? Or does he slip out the back door to forever wonder if one of those other tactics might have turned the tale around? They were too many options to choose from for a high school drop-out a half a dozen beers in.

For sure though, “Dude” was a horrible dancer, but she was good enough to prop them both up. Imagine, not knowing how to two-step? As good as Raini looked to me (and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her), she looked exactly what she was beside him, a country girl grasping at straws. Her hands were all over him as she be-bopped around his “trying-not-to-look-stupid-on-the-dance-floor” ass. What a dick. Her legs looked great in that short skirt and those tall boots that all the girls were wearing, while her curls hung like fire against a lacy white top. A short time ago I would have cut-in… and she would have welcomed it. Everyone always said we looked great dancing together. But now? Even if I tried to cut-in it could hardly go over well.

I should have left, but to get out would have meant walking right past them, so I sat like a fool, sucking back long necks and thinking (something I never was the best at, even when sober). A slow song came on, and she pressed herself up against him. When his hand settled on her hip it was all I could do not to come off my stool. There was a boiling up inside me then that wasn’t at all healthy. I tried to look away, to peel the label on my bottle, to read my phone, to look at anything else, but my eyes kept finding the mirror and that hand on her hip. I knew that if that hand moved one inch further I would be spending the rest of the night with my hands cuffed behind me while trying to explain what the hell had just happened.

But it didn’t move, and I didn’t either.

Boo came in just then. I’d known Boo most of my life. As someone who grows up rough will, Boo had her antennaes primed at all times for ticklish situations. Those antennae were a necessary trailer park survival skill. Boo saw right away what was happening and came on over to test my temperature, and to talk me down off the ledge if it became necessary. Her voice sounded loud, even in the loud room, “How y’all doing over here, Dale? You mind if I sit?”

“Nah, Boo. I don’t mind.”

”I see you got your eye glued to that mirror, see something interestin’ in there?”

“You know what I’m lookin’ at.”

”She looks good, don’t she? Almost happy.”

”Almost.”

”Whach’a gonna do?”

”Ain’t decided yet.” Boo downed my beer in a swig, ever-ready for a freebie, so I motioned to the bartender for two more.

”You gonna kill him?”

”Don’t know. Ain’t decided.” They were smashed into the same side of a booth now, her on the outside but scrooched over against him.

”Hmmm.” Boo got quiet then, which was not her nature. She turned on her stool so that she faced the dance floor and them, her bottle’s long neck kept close to her mouth. Habit, I guessed. “You know, he don’t look like all that to me.”

”Turn around Boo,” I asked. “I’d rather they didn’t know I was here.”

She spun around on her stool like a kid in an ice cream shop. “Dale Colby! Do you for one minute think she don’t know you’re sitting here?”

“I’m sure that she doesn’t know, but she will if you holler out my name again!”

”Well, you Colby’s always was a tad slow.” Her eyes grew excited. “You want me to show you something?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Boo grabbed hold of my knee then, spinning me around until I faced her. She hopped off of her stool, wedged herself between my legs, grabbed me with both hands by the shirt collars and laid one on me; a hard, almost violent kiss that smashed so hard against my lips

that it hurt in some wild, unexpected, exciting kind of painful way.

What came next was even more unexpected, at least for me it was. Boo was snatched from my legs, and hurled onto the dance floor. They were rolling down there together then in a snatch of hair, and teeth, and tops. It was shocking in it’s fury and violence and sexuality. Raini was angry and determined, but she was no match for Boo, who’d spent her life fending off the attacks of grown men, and so had little trouble with Raini’s like. She soon had Raini pinned on her back on the parquet dance floor. Raini’s tiny skirt was hiked up around her waist, revealing very little in the way of panties, while one of Boo’s boobs hung pertly from under her bra-less top. Boo was bleeding from a lip, but was smiling tauntingly down at the helpless Raini. Raini spat up at her, landing it on Boo’s cheek, but Boo only reached for it with her tongue as if to lap it off.

I caught hold of Boo then, but she refused to let go, so I lifted them both back to their booted feet while prying them stiffly apart. Her hands free, Raini pulled her skirt back down where it belonged, but Boo seemed unconcerned with her exhibitionism. I yanked them both by the upper arms from the dance floor. The crowd parted in front of us as I pulled them towards the door.

Once outside Boo fixed her top. Raini walked stiffly to my truck, letting herself in on the passenger side.

”Did you really think she didn’t know you were in there? Damn Dale, you’re an idiot!”

I shrugged helplessly and started for my truck. “Thanks Boo, I owe you one.”

“Forget about it, Babe! And thanks for the beer.”

Boo always did have a knack for making a guy feel inadequate.

For the 1st time we met in the canteen of our university. No other desk was free so you sat across me. I saw you and your smile for the 1st time.

When i was about to leave you asked me if you could take a picture of me with the cafe inside the canteen because you thought that i am pretty and suitable for the visual of cafe . ofcourse i refused . How could i let a stranger take my picture?

I refused you and about to leave when you again stopped me by coming infront of me. I was really angry at that time but you suddenly knelt and started tying shoelaces and said that i would have fall if i will let these laces untied. I was embarrassed and run away and didn't even said thank you.

We met again after 1 month in the playground . That day i had my period so i was tired of those activities.  In the middle of running i fainted. You carried me to hospital immediately . I didn't realise but i liked you for a long time. you can say love at 1st sight. Because from that day you were in my every thought.

After i woke up the first face i saw was you. You were their the whole time. I said sorry for my previous mistakes and thank you. I proposed a friendship and We became friends.

I asked you to go to that previous cafe and it will be my treat as a thank you gift and After few days we went to to the cafe as our plan.

We enjoyed their and became even closer. Before leaving i asked you to take the selfie with the cafe because you are handsome with a killer smile. We took our 1st photo together.

We became partner in studies. As you were my senior you helped me a lot in my studies and as you were too weak in mathematics i helped you too. Spending time with you became an addiction for me.

We became best friends. Close enough to put hands on soldier and interfere in personal matters. And some time we also used hand and legs in our fight. We fought with eachother for many times.          

After the fight when we would realise our mistakes we exchanged gifts as an apologize . It was becoming difficult for me to live a day without seeing your face. I decided to confess.

Finally i said it. I said directly like a very bold girl

"You idiot ,i love you" . At that time your reaction was worth seeing. From your reaction i was clear that it was a success.

When you said that you also loved me too from our 1 st meet i got a heartattack with happiness. I was really happy at that time.

Our relationship  became better with time. We got mature and responsible . Above all we loved eachother even more. That was my 1st kiss in your appartment.  That day i stayed at your home for the revision of my final exam.

When we became intimate we didn't know. Under the blanket in the winter season we enjoyed each other's warmth and crossed the final line.

I don't know when we slept  but when i woke up i found myself beside you. At first i was anxious but soon i saw you slept very cutely. Not like a 28 yers old boy at all insted just like a 8 years old. All my anxiety went in to air. That day i wished that may all our life will be end with the peace like this moment. I promised i will make our life like a amusement park, where we can be happy like always.

After five years we got married and our life was as fun as we thought with eachother with love and respect.

Today we are sitting here thinking about the moment we met eachother. I think the god above their specially wrote this script for us.

Thank you God for giving me this stupid and adorable person in my life.

_The end_

DISCLAIMER— Mature content. The characters, including the settings of any events, or folks/places are all fictitious. Every section of this material is to be only ready by an older audience. Thank you.

Now let’s get on with thee show/tale! Feel free to grab a drink, a snack, or two.

*********************************

Jessica looked around the room. The waiter still had not come to take their orders. She rapidly blinked her eyes, the moment she realized who she had spotted across from her table. Rising from her seat, she stormed over to the other side.

‘What in the Milky Way galaxy do you think you’re doing here?’

Jessica frowned. She thought she had covered her tracks quite well. Well, she’d better figure out a way to find a ship that had a better cloaking system, & could cancel out anyone’s machinations of trying to find out where she was headed to next.

Archy raised his eyebrow, and changed his facial expression to one that seemed clueless. Jessica flicked the feather in his hat. He knew she didn’t like seeing animals, or parts of them being used as a form of fashion. Every animal species across the galaxy needed to be protected from his kind.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a whistle. Jessica turned around, and there was a random stranger grinning at her. He gave her a wink. Archy rolled his eyes.

He approached her, and pulled her hand to his forehead.

‘Would it be alright if I asked you to dance before we sit down to dine?’

Archy placed his hand on his stomach. Then proceeded to cough in a way that irked Jessica. But she did her best not to pay attention to his shenanigans.

She walked away by her suitor’s side. As soon as they were on the dance floor, he placed one hand around Jessica’s waist— pulled her close to his body- & twirled her around.

Jessica felt her head spinning, but it was a good feeling. His eyes started to shimmer as the lights were dimmed. Her heart skipped a beat. She hoped she was not caught under his spell with those dazzling eyes.

Someone bumped into them, and her dance partner almost stumbled to the dance floor. Jessica turned to face the person who had interrupted their dance, the only thing she spotted beside her was a feather. ‘Archy!’ She yelled at the back of her mind.

She could still sense his presence in the vicinity.

Her dancing partner rushed back closer to her side, and whispered in be ear. ‘Come~ let me show you something.’

He took her hand. As he guided her away from the crowded dance floor, Jessica scanned the room to see if Archy was still keeping track of her new movements.

Her guide turned back to face her. He told her not to worry about Archy.

Jessica smiled, and felt a sudden burst of glee. She was brought to a different level of the renovexis. This section of the mega leveled building had a garden.

She felt a wave of energy coursing through her body. Her dance partner smiled. He placed one hand across Jessica’s cheek, & gently brushed her lips.

At first she didn’t move. It was like the universe had stopped at that moment. Time was at a standstill.

She heard his voice reach out to her like he was not standing right in front of her. Jessica was still processing how his lips had felt familiar.

He reached to grab her hand, getting ready for more. She whispered, ‘Wait.’

Jessica bent down, and started loosening his belt with her dominant hand. He panicked and slapped it. ‘Ouchie, that hurt!’ She exclaimed.

‘I…uhh..we don’t have to rush, my dear.’

Jessica chuckled. ‘There’s no need to pretend..Arch.oh…’

He snapped his fingers and laughed. ‘Dang. I thought I had you fooled. When did you realize it was me, and not the other guy?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘You’re the only guy I know who always goes full on to am extreme with a kiss. You also ended up biting me, but this time it was like a tiny pinch.’

Archy smiled. ‘Well, I guess I’ll try and find the other guy. Hope he’s not mad that I kept him away from you.’

Jessica chortled, and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Oh, Archy. Where did you place this body this time?’

Archy winked. ‘It’s in the trunk. Where else would I hide the body?’

Jessica’s eyes widened in fright. ‘What!?’

‘Take a deep break. I’m kidding.’

‘You better be. I just cleaned that entire part of my ride. If I get pulled to the side by the traffic bots for carrying a shimmer, I’ll tell them you’re the one responsible for his untimely demise!’

‘My dear- they wouldn’t be able to catch me, not even at their top warp speed in an electric space cruiser.’

Jessica watched him take a bow. Archy rose and winked at her. ‘Let’s go try some of the food that was ordered~ by- me— eh, the other guy. He’s not so bad after all.’

Jessica smiled. ‘I hope you’re taking notes. If you’re not careful he’s going to be the one to get the girl.’

Archy hit his chest. ‘He’s going to have to beat me in a wrestling match first. Then we can find out more about what kind of talents he has.’

*********************************

#Aces #flowers #hearts #spades (c)

5th Sept.ember, 2022

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXtmbZlwkDs

Tears streamed down his face. He gazed at the view of the space rocks moving close to his planet’s atmosphere. Both of the moons were only giving off light which was like a wink. The meteors looked quite spectacular tonight.

His hand twitched. He felt an itch. Before he could reach for the itchy spot, one of the meteors had veered off course, and suddenly it was heading right toward him. The minute he was close to scratching the spot that was not a bother, he felt a wave of heat, & then— BAM- lights out!

He woke up feeling squished, squashed like mince~meat. His skin, muscles, and bones had been crushed into fragments. Tears streamed down his face, this time he was in a lot of pain.

Something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He rushed toward it, and saw her. Even though his body still hurt, he could not stop to gaze at the one who looked like a precious gem. Her body was giving off almost a blinding light like the sun, he had to shield his eyes while still trying to stare at her Mona Lisa smile.

She grabbed his hand, and told him that time was ticking. They needed to move at a cheetah’s speed. He nodded his head. Then they took off moving at the speed of light.

When they stopped, he stumbled a bit backward, & almost threw up. She tried to not burst out laughing, but couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down her face while she laughed and snorted.

He was about to lean in close to her, and give her a smooch. Her laugh…he would never forget it..

As he was daydreaming about the two of them being side-by-side on a beach, their bodies intertwined- a robotic intelligence unit (riu) appeared out of nowhere.

He stepped in front of his lady, and promised her the robots would not harm her— they would have to attack him first before trying to hurt his Mona. The robots chuckled staring at his stance. It looked as if he was getting ready to use the loo.

The robots retreated upon getting a whiff of what he had ended up doing after letting loose. His eyes lit up, he had managed to defeat the robots, and using the power of flatulence!

He clasped his hands and asked his Lisa to forgive him. She shook her head. Then she laughed, and snorted. She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead.

All this time he had not realized, his body had transformed. He was not in pain anymore. Smiling at his Mona Lisa, his heart felt full of gladness that he had found somebody to love.

10th 09, 2022.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xfAkJ5SYSbE

Giselle sat at the small table in the Parisian café where she was waiting for her date to arrive. Paris was such a busy city, as was Jacques, and it was quite possible he had been held up by unforeseen events at the bookstore where they both worked. At any rate, she was sure that he would be arriving shortly. He had promised her, after all, that tonight would be a very special first date for the two of them. They had been working together for a year now, but they had never been on an actual date before this evening.

She was sipping a glass of Merlau, or Merlot, a new wine in Paris harvested from succulent grapes in the Bordeaux region, but it did not help to quell the butterflies of anticipation that flitted about in her stomach as she waited. The wine was rich and velvety, while also fruity and spicy, and had become a favorite. The rich Merlau was a lovely accompaniment to the ambience of the dimly lit café and its' small crowd of patrons.

As Giselle sipped the Merlau, she looked about the café. She was immediately intrigued when she spied two men sitting in the corner as they drank their forbidden drinks of absinthe while they talked with one another. Whatever it was they were discussing, it was obvious that their conversation was somewhat heated. One was a handsome, tall, blonde-haired man, and the other was a bit shorter and stockier, with dark hair and a mustache. Eventually, after apparently becoming angry and frustrated, the stockier man rose hastily from his seat and abruptly left.

Surprised by their public disagreement, Giselle quickly looked away and toward the door in hopes of finding Jacques, but such was not the case. When she turned back to look at the remaining man, he gave her a delightfully handsome smile and shrugged his shoulders. As she smiled somewhat timidly back at him, he picked up his drink and leisurely walked toward her.

“Mademoiselle,” he greeted her. “Might I sit with you for a bit? I fear my friend has suddenly left me all alone, and I find myself in need of companionship.” Not waiting for a response, he smiled charmingly as he slid into the empty seat at the small table.

Startled by the man’s boldness but not wanting to be rude, Giselle nodded. “Oui,” she said. “But, monsieur, please know that my date will be arriving shortly.”

“Lucky man,” the tall, slender man commented as he settled himself comfortably in the seat across from her. “I’m Scott,” he said with a beautiful smile that had obviously impressed many women.

“Bonjour, Scott. I am Giselle,” she smiled back at him.

“So, you are waiting for your sweetheart? Your petit ami? He is your intended?” the man asked. It was obvious that he was American from his accent.

“Oh, no!” Giselle quickly answered and shyly smiled. “It’s our first date. We work together, you see, at the bookstore.”

The man smiled ruefully and with exerted concentration said, “Ah, but l'amour is so very splendid and beautiful when it’s fresh and young. And yet, as time transcends, it so often becomes a damning element in our lives.” His glorious smile slowly faded to a demure frown as he spoke. “I should know,” he added and held up his left hand for her to see his ring, indicating he was married. “At best, you can’t live with it, and you can’t live without it.” The handsome smile returned, albeit a bit ruefully, with the last commentary.

Giselle was uncertain how to respond. Who was this American and why did he have such a dismal view of l'amour? Moreover, why was he inclined to share it with her? It was obvious that he had had too much to drink. Perhaps this is why he and his friend had argued. Were they arguing about l'amour?

“Monsieur,” she began, but he immediately held up his hand to interrupt her.

“Please, I must insist that you call me Scott,” he said, his blue eyes gentle as he appealed to her.

“Scott,” she said hesitantly. “Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink for this evening. I thought that this drink - this absinthe - was forbidden anyway. C'est tres mauvais, no?,” Giselle whispered as she pointed at the milky, green drink in front of him, alluding to its' purported danger. She was aware that absinthe had been illegal in Paris since 1915, and yet, here this man was drinking it a full ten years later in full view as if it was not.

Scott looked down into his glass and smiled with assuredness. With the utmost air of confidence, he said, “Ma jeune fille, only the most intense of pleasures are derived from the depths of the forbidden.”

Giselle blushed at his words and attempted to change the subject. “Where is your wife tonight, monsieur…I mean, Scott?” she quickly corrected.

The man gave her a wry smile. “I fear she finds her pleasures in the forbidden as well,” he said and then sighed. “Alas, she has taken off with her friends for more exciting times than intense, heated discussions betwixt my friend and me, as you have just unfortunately witnessed.”

“I see,” said Giselle, genuinely sorry for this man’s current misfortune in life, friendship, and l'amour.

“Do you? Do you really see?” Scott asked, intently watching her and awaiting her reply.

Unsure how to respond, Giselle once again attempted to deter the conversation from the question with which he had just presented her. “Why are you in our lovely city of Paris, Scott? Are you working here?” she asked.

“Paris is such an enchanting and fulfilling city, and so full of opportunities. I am here at preset, mon chéri, in an attempt to finish my latest novel - at least on good days. However, on bad days, like today, I drink and tend to argue with my closest friend. And I suppose one could say that I drink and argue much too frequently,” he said as he took another large swallow of his drink.

“Oh! You are a writer! Comme c'est intéressant! What are your books about?” Giselle was genuinely interested.

Scott smiled his charming, attractive smile and nonchalantly leaned back in his chair. “Well, let’s see, Giselle. I mostly write about l'amour. Do you not find it ironic in consideration of the sad view of love I’ve just painted for you?”

Indeed, Giselle did indeed find it ironic. It was exceedingly odd that a man with such a dismal, disappointed view of l’amour would choose to write about it. Then again, love was a wonderful subject for a book. Moreover, l’amour was truly a wondrous thing, at least in her experience.

“Please allow me to explain my pretty, petite French flower,” Scott said as he leaned on his elbow across the table to look intently into her green eyes. “I write about l'amour, mon chéri, because I am a hopeless romantic and have not yet given up on achieving it to the fullest capacity in my life.” He relaxed and leaned back in his chair again as took a sip of his drink before continuing. “I have a need to know and understand love; to have it fill me to the depths of my being. In fact, I crave love with an intensity that extends beyond a need for sustenance of any kind and reiterates the words I have just spoken.” He picked up his nearly empty glass and waved it in the air. “And believe it or not, I crave love more than I crave even this poison.”

Scott finished his drink. “Hope for such things springs eternal, does it not?” he asked as he lifted his empty glass as if to pay homage to l'amour and to emphasize the truth of the words he spoke.

As Giselle pondered a response, Scott rose, declaring it was time for another drink and headed to the bar. She watched as he ordered himself another drink of absinthe. While he lingered for a bit at the bar, she turned to find Jacques entering through the café's entrance. She lifted her hand to wave to him. He immediately spotted her and made his way to the small table. Giselle rose and kissed him warmly on the cheek in greeting. The smile she gave him was all the assurance he needed to let him know she was very happy to see him.

“I am so sorry I am late, mon tendre,” he said. “I was unfortunately detained at work.”

Giselle smiled sweetly. “It is not a problem, Jacques. I am just so happy to see you now.”

Just then, the stranger meandered by their table, pausing to introduce himself to Giselle’s guest, a fresh drink firmly in his hand.

“I see your ami has arrived,” Scott said, and smiled at Jacques, extending his hand in greeting. Giselle made the introductions, a bit wary of what Scott might say to Jacques.

“I fear, monsieur, that I was a bit lonely and kept this sweet, jeune fille entertained for a short while as she awaited your arrival,” Scott said. “We had a very thorough discussion on the subject of l’amour, and I gave her my most earnest opinion on the subject matter.”

Jacques’ brow rose in surprise and Giselle blushed, but Scott was oblivious to either of their responses as he rambled on. “I informed your sweet Giselle that I am a hopeless romantic. Moreover, I do think l’amour will eventually win the day for all of us. Do you not agree, Jacques?" Scott smiled and nodded, not waiting for Jacques' reply. "Yes, I see that you do understand, mon ami, because of the way you look at this delicate, beautiful French damsel. that l'amour may very well be a real thing.” Suddenly Scott turned serious and gave a gracious bow before he added, “I pray that l’amour will be a very real thing for you two sweethearts and fill your hearts. I can easily see that it is already a flower nearing a full bloom for each of you.”

With those words, he turned on his heel as suddenly as he had appeared and headed back to his former table where the man with whom he had been arguing earlier in the evening joined him again. The two friends hugged, laughed, and patted each other on the back as they took a seat and began a new, intense conversation, all former arguments seemingly forgotten.

Giselle nervously turned to Jacques, who was watching her with wide-eyed amazement.

“Jacques,” she began. “I did not know what to say when he approached and began to discuss such serious things like l’amour. I found him to be a very sad man, always hoping to find love, but never seeming to find it.”

Jacques continued to stare at her in disbelief. “Giselle,” he said. “Do you not know who that gentleman is?” he asked.

“No, I don’t have clue who he is other than he said his name is Scott. And I know he’s American, but that is all.”

“Mon chéri, that is none other than F. Scott Fitzgerald, the famous American novelist. Moreover, he is sitting with Ernest Hemingway, another very famous American writer. These two writers frequent the bars of Paris, and all know them for their carousing, rowdy ways. They drink nothing but absinthe and champagne – or so the story goes,” Jacques said as he eyed the two men and their drinks.

Giselle dubiously looked at her date. “F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway? I am not sure that I have heard of them,” she said. “However, Scott did tell me that he is a writer.” She turned to watch the two men as they conversed, a new view of Scott taking root in her mind. She would have to buy one of his books just to see how he wrote about that wonderful subject called l’amour for which he continuously searched and longed.

Giselle turned back to her date. “Famous American writer or no, I would much rather be sitting here with you, Jacques, enjoying this night.”

Jacques picked up her slender hand and kissed it. “And I, with you, my sweet Giselle. Still, not many can say that they met someone as famous as F. Scott Fitzgerald on their date. Perhaps you should consider picking up the trade and penning a story about such an incredulous encounter this beautiful Parisian night!”

Giselle shook her head. “No, I don’t think so, Jacques. I will leave the writing to the two of them instead,” she said and the couple laughed as they began the first night of many to follow for them.

Indeed, a lifetime of love and many happy years spent together would be forthcoming for Giselle and Jacques. Who can say? Perhaps that fateful meeting with F. Scott Fitzgerald, a hopeless romantic, and the ardent words he spoke that night, propelled their love to a beautiful and ultimate end. Regardless, there is little doubt Fitzgerald would have been immensely pleased, and perhaps a wee bit envious, of the love the two shared over the course of their lives together.

opened the slender silver ashtray on the back of the carseat and saw a fossilized piece of gum in there like some Doublemint scented mouse brain. “Wonder who chewed that and what year it was chewed,” I thought. The chewer was most likely dead. The car was a 1977 Lincoln Continental Town Coupe with suicide doors. The airport loomed in the horizon, late afternoon bleeding its color across the sky dotted with planes taking off and landing, adventures in the clouds for all the ticket holders. Whatever. People on business with honey roasted peanut allergies more likely. The charm of airports had waned years ago due to too many delays, overbooked flights, and infants screaming like they were being eviscerated.

I couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm of a change of scenery. Contentment is an elusive entity. I’m never content where I am and when I do go out of town I’m preoccupied by the machinations of getting back home to fully enjoy the new experiences. The brochure promised a life-changing memory but I doubted I’d be able to unplug from the hardened routine for any length of time to let it register.

I left the vintage cab, tipped generously, filed through the screening queue, and eventually boarded. My overnight bag I kept by my feet. Once in the air, two bourbons helped me doze off until the treble speak of the onboard system announced our landing. The colors of the islands were magnificent greens and teals, dotted with multicolored flowers and striped through with pristine beaches. Resorts speckled here and there and I wondered in which one I was reserved.

Out of the plane, I removed my sport coat, the temperature being at least 30 degrees hotter than where I flew from, the air smelling of sunshine and promise. In spite of myself I relaxed and smiled, slipped on some dark sunglasses. The cab ride to the resort snaked up a twisty road, from switchback to switchback climbing ever higher until the road crested and presented the large wooden lodge in all its teakwood peaked glory. Palms bowed at the entrance and eager bellhops came every few feet to smile and offer help. I waved them off and checked in, walked the orange blossom scented carpeted halls and slid the key card into my room.

Throwing my bag on the bed, I walked over to the patio window and took in the view. The edge of the island looked far off. Private aerie indeed. The phone rang, a pleasant tropical ringtone like pineapples beaten on steel drums. “Welcome Mr. Caplan, good afternoon. We have all the arrangements made for your evening and we think you will enjoy what we have planned. The questionnaire you filled out gave us some ideas and we narrowed down the three best options. Know each companion has been specially made and never used by anyone, so we want you to fully enjoy.”

“Ok,” I replied.

“What time would you like the festivities to commence?”

I thought. I wanted to shower first, of course. “An hour? Hour and a half?”

“Excellent. That time frame has been entered and noted. We are excited to present your first option. You can decide to opt out if it is not to your liking, but we are confident in our algorithm and believe the first one will be the only one.”

“How many times has someone opted out and chosen one of the other three?”

The attendant laughed. “Never. Enjoy your stay.”

I hung up, showered, raided the mini fridge in my towel. After my second Maker’s Mark, a knock sounded on the door. I opened it and a crate was wheeled in by a bellhop. I tipped him and he left promptly after handing me a card. The card reade: “Key code 4196, for both container and character boot.”

The crate had a keypad and I typed the code. A hermetic seal hissed open and a dark human shaped figure slid out covered in bubble wrap and plastic. Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, I hastily tore off the packaging and there she stood: a life-size Mrs. Butterworth, looking like a dark bottle filled with syrup but with obvious articulation, squinty eyes and smile, hands clasped at her waist. She looked hotter than her original design. Less grandmother, more sexy aunt or sultry cougar. Larger hips, plunging neckline, and a shiny booty. I felt stirrings and excitement. What in my questionnaire could have possibly triggered this? Age group of desirable mate? What flavor always brings comfort? I had definitely listed maple a couple times. While I had never had this fantasy, this was definitely in my wheelhouse, but a kink I would have never thought of for myself. The algorithm was impressive.

I flipped the kneecap open and typed in the 4196 code. A whirring, a hint of ozone, and suddenly the statue before me began moving fluidly and stepped across the room. The crate folded itself up and slid on its edge via two wheels into the closet, even shut the door behind itself. Mrs. Butterworth strode across the room and her voice sounded incredibly sexy, raspy yet buttery, like Kathleen Turner just keg-standed a pound of honey.

“This room is great,” she cooed. “Looove the view. Remind me your name again?”

Her face smiled and her eyes radiated desire. I thought i saw liquid flowing inside her, unless it was an optical trick to project the bottle effect.

I must have taken too long to answer because she purred, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Simon,” I said.

“Mmmmm, Simon. Speaking of tongues, Simon, why don’t you come here so I can taste yours?”

She/it stood with a leg out and I saw her/its long skirt was slit nearly to her belt, which offered a long narrow window of leg curve and a hint of underpants. Why would a pleasure droid need underpants?

I strode over and held her and she was warm to the touch. Soft like real skin, too. She smelled great. Like being sleepy and wanting breakfast and grinning. That’s what she smelled like. Like memories. I kissed her warm soft lips, feeling a carbonation in my stomach and a nervous system branched explosion comprised of yes and more.

She moved her tongue into my mouth and I caressed it with my own tongue, sucked it, rotated my head left and right, keeping her tongue prisoner. She tasted amazing. Like real maple sugar. She pressed her body against me and I could feel her hard nipples jabbing me just under mine. Her hot breath steamed my glasses and I threw them across the room. My attention was completely on this moment. I kissed her cheeks, sucked her earlobes. Though she wasn’t damp, she tasted of maple sugar. I licked her neck, she moaned, sucked in her breath so that under her ribs ebbed. I kissed down her belly as she unbuttoned the golden brown gown, let it fall to the floor.

I kissed down her legs, purposefully avoiding her nipples and vulva so her excitement would build and thus her energy. She had on some golden brown high heels and with the toe of one, she pressed my head back, dug the heel under my chin. She looked down at me with eyebrows up. “You want me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I croaked. She dug the heel in more, almost to pain level. “Then lick the bottom of my shoe and you can have anything you want.” Her mouth turned up in a grin on one side. I dragged my tongue against the underside of the shoe. (She was just in plastic and had only walked a few steps around 6 star hotel carpeting. It was not nasty.) Tasted like maple sugar. She pulled me up from the floor, onto the bed. She eyed me for a second, then started unbuttoning everything down the front. (Her processor must have computed buttons vs zips and reconfigured the seduction technique.) I was not really into S&M, but this was I guess diet S&M, maybe due to the questionnaire where I told about a time I was accidentally choked during sex (The woman was on top and leaned her elbows on the sides of my windpipe. It made for an intense orgasm, but not something I could ever plan on doing again.)

Anyhow, Mrs. Butterworth and I were nude and on the bed. (I can only assume Mr. Butterworth wasn’t watching from the corner or CCTV.) I finally gave her nipples release. Then I swirled my tongue on her clit while she hummed her moans over the tongue depressor of my cock. Everywhere, she tasted like maple sugar. I slid inside her with her below me. I went inside and hit her walls. She moaned and grinned. In and out I stroked with each stroke producing a moan from below.

I flipped her over and tongued her ass, buried my face there and licked away. Maple goddamned sugar. I mounted her from behind, stroked fast then slow. “Pull my hair,” she grunted as I felt her vulva clamp with excitement. I wrapped some strands around my fist and tugged. Her head went back and her mouth broadened in pleasure. She pressed herself back against me, to the hilt and deeper. Her toes curled and her mouth sounded like a first time rev on a motocross bike. I slid my thumb in her ass, increased my speed going in her. Light and pleasure braided into one, my body seemed to move on its own tempo, extremities tingled and convulsed. My hands shook as I gripped her sides, her moans such sweet music, the vibration, the tempo, until…………..cascading sparks from the best fireworks on the 4th of July. A release, a return to the senses, an exhale of happiness before all the shitty floods back into the world like a thunderclap. To orgasm is to produce lightning.

A sheen of sweat had beaded down her back. I didn’t lick it but I know what it probably tasted like. I had selected the post-coital cuddle option which was fine, except if you moved too abruptly she would offer to get you a glass of water.

The next morning I checked out still grinning, ran my credit card. I decided to upgrade to take home. The thought of destroying her was too much, but like they said, you are the only one to use it, so if you don’t buy it after, they will incinerate it. After I signed, I asked the guy what my other two options would have been if I hadn’t kept the maple queen. “We can’t tell you that. But on next visit, we can show you.”

Ah, so that’s how they keep you coming back. Since Mrs. Butterworth was coming home with me, I wouldn’t be back.

It was Friday night and we were loading all of our things into my car. My car isn't the best it is an old blue dodge with a rusty bottom. We were on our way to the woods to go camping. There are eight of us Sarah, Mason, Abby, Xander, Chris, Megan, Veronica, and myself. I planned the trip to ask Abby to go to homecoming with me. All my friends were part of the plan. I decided I would ask her by singing her a song I wrote. I started putting everyone's bags into my car. I also packed the axe, tent, and flare gun. My mom insists I take the flare gun just in case we get lost. I finish packing my car and shout, "Wheels out in ten ." Abby and I are in the car first and we start chatting about our movie theories. We chat for about eight minutes before the group slowly fills in Megan was the next one in. By the time everyone was ready to go it was 6 o'clock in the afternoon.We were running a little behind. I wanted to get there by 6:30 but we won't get there until seven. We arrived shortly after seven and started to unpack. Me and Abby started to set up the four tents. While everyone else worked on getting a fire set up. Everyone has split up in three of the four tents. I brought an extra tent so I could be by myself. Even though it is very late by 8 we had the fire up and started roasting brats. Once everyone's done eating I pull out my guitar. Abby's eyes lit up because she loves to hear me sing. I started out with one of her favorite songs I wrote called Lost and Found. It was a love song I wrote. After I finished up with that song she was gleaming with happiness. So I decided to sing the song. I said ok guys this is a new song I wrote called Come With Me Abby. She looked very confused but I just decided to sing the song. In the song I asked her to homecoming. She ran away crying. I looked at Megan and she looked confused and shrugged her shoulders. I put down my guitar and ran after her. I caught up with her. She was sitting at the edge of a river crying. I asked, "Hey Abbs whats wrong." She said,"No ones ever been that nice to me.' I looked into her soft brown eyes and said, "Well Abbs no one could ever love you like I do." She smiles and her eyes glisten in the moonlight. We both lean in and kiss each other passionately. She pulls away first and I ask,"What is wrong Abbs."She said," Nothing I've Just knew you liked me.""I've been waiting for you to tell me because I feel the same way." I looked at her frowning and said,"Sorry it took me so long Let me make it up to you." I caress her cheek with my palm and lean in and kiss her. She kisses back hard. I pull away first this time and say," Abby will you go out with me?" She blushes hard and said," Of course I will go out with you Ethan." I say,"Okay lets go back to the others so they don't think we're dead. While walk back to the group we are holding hands and chatting. We walked out of the woods and the group was smiling at us. The End........... Or is it

What I imagine were some of the thoughts they might have had throughout our... Relationship:

Ooh, she seems kind of funny, it would be cool if we were friends!

She listened back we're going to talk now I'm so happy I've made a new friend here!

We've been friends for some months now, she's so sweet, I love how she really listens and looks out for me like this!

How is she so kind to me? I don't deserve it (you deserve the world dummy) but thank you!?

Okay, okay, I asked her to be my platonic wife and she said yes! We're making a whole wedding board on Pinterest, there's butterflies and pretty lights and boots and I'm so happyyyyy

She made me a playlist for my birthday and sent me something, I'm crying no one could possibly have this many nicknames for another person I love her so much I wish she lived close I'd love to just hug her for hours and hours :(

She's been so supportive about me and my ex, I wish I knew why she was so nice to me I really don't deserve it (yes, yes you do)

It's been a bit weird... I wonder why heh

Oh. Wow. How? Since when? I guess I should have known. Those songs on that playlist... Some of them were... But I figured she just meant it in a friend way. I know she loves me, she always says she does I just didn't know she meant that she...

I just wanted a friend, relationships are so awful why did she have to feel this way?

Did I flirt too much? This is all my fault why can't I feel the same way?

I just want us to stay friends, I just want everything to go back the way it was

It's been a bit weird but she's been really nice about the guy and girl I like (why did you have to crush on everyone else but me) so maybe everything will be okay! I've been losing people... I can't lose anymore

I didn't end up dating them long.. Then she told me she liked me again... I wish I could like her back. If I could just make myself like her we could be so happy together... She likes me so much, am I crazy for not feeling anything for her romantically? Why do I only fall for shitty people? Why am I like this?

(I wish I knew too..)

She left me. I needed her. I needed her so much but she left me. Everyone is leaving and I can't make them stop. I thought she and I would be together forever. She said she'd come to America some day, years from now. She said she would be my first kiss. She said she'd be there and whisk me off into the sunset and that we'd live together. We could have been so happy... Why did it have to go so wrong? Why couldn't I have loved her too?

She's back again... I can't be bothered to pretend that everything is fine, anymore. Things can't go back to how they were. She left me and I know it's selfish of me to have wanted her to stay when she says she needed to get over her crush but... I don't care anymore. We could have still been friends. We could have gone without the platonic divorce. I needed you, how could you do this? How could you leave me, then come back, begging for forgiveness and think for a second that I could be with someone who betrayed me so badly?

This is it. She's leaving again. She says that I was good to her. She says we tried but she can tell it isn't there anymore. What we had isn't there. Where did it go? What happened to our forever?

I contacted her to ask about my best friend. I don't really think about things now but I messed up my friendship with him and I wanted to know how he's feeling since he blocked me (I... did you even care about me at all, then, old friend?)

She said happy birthday to me. We haven't spoke to each other in nearly a year now. She... Remembered. I won't remember hers or at the very least, I'll pretend I won't. She's alone. I'm alone. I'll ignore her attempts make conversation with my little one liners. She told me it's not my fault, that most of the blame is on her for leaving in the first place. I wish I could believe that. (I wish you could too. Whether it was true or not, M, I never want you to blame yourself or to be unhappy or-) Leave me alone leave me alone you hurt me and I want to stay moved on from you, now.

(Did you ever care about me at all did you ever care about me at all did you ever care you might not have loved me like I you but did I ever matter? Lobster sunflower little mouse angel angel fish baby baby girl love doll honey mine MJ MJ MJ)