You asked for it. Welcome to the strangeness.
Careful Blue I was under there.
Storn, there's always more but sometimes it takes a jackhammer and pots of coffee to get it.
1303 - Day Two
Friday morning he was jarred from a recurring dream by the buzzing alarm. Got the coffee started and hopped into the shower trying to remember more of it this time. Hot water in his face ran down his chest, rippled over tight abs, down over his crotch, running between his thighs. Liquid warmth and hot memory rising a hard-on as he dropped his head under the spray.
Aunt Denise was in her late-twenties the first time she visited his parents. Her white lab coat was unbuttoned below her bust, relieving the fabric strain. A white clasp crossed the gap in the coat holding her breasts together. Scarlet fingernails tousled his hair, bringing her untanned cleavage within his 5 year-old reach. Long, straight strands of henna fell over her shoulders into the pale valley filling his vision. She said something and those amazing breasts retreated.
"She was so hot." Anthony's right hand stroking his dick.
Ten years later the lab coat had more stains, job strain marked her face, premature gray had streaked her perfect red hair, but her body still stretched the white cloth in the same places. Hormones raging as 15, he barely made eye contact with her. Instead, eyes locked on the 38 Ds under that coat. When he did raise his gaze into her green eyes a knowing smile always greeted him. One index finger would appear below her neck slowly dragging his eyes back down as she traced the line of white buttons. She never skipped a beat keeping up the conversation with his mother while making him squirm, hands in his lap, legs crossed, hiding his response.
A soapy hand vanished under stroked lather while fantasy tried to get that lab coat open, her hand stop and undo the top button, or the second. Mom leaving them alone, a white bra released, a come here finger. Water sprayed against his back imagining her firm orbs pushing free. The curved expanse of smooth, concealed pleasure.
Frustrating minutes past before he turned and rinsed failure down the drain. "Shit, 12 years. Damn buttons."
Dried off, brushed his teeth, hard-on bumping cold porcelain. The buzz of his electric shaver allowed blood to return to his brain. What's on for today finally getting his attention. The Storrel renovation started drywalling this morning, an all day job with those high ceilings. If everybody showed up shouldn't take more than a day. He needed to check if his Aunt had other notes or instructions lying around too.
Naked, he stopped to check the closet where he shoved the suitcase last night. The open case greeted him pulling the door open. He knelt on one knee checking for any changes in his inheritance.
"So touching you turns you on?" Wishing that worked on a couple girls he knew. "Morning Dee, have'a quiet night?" Name popping into his head. "Don't explode ok, one shower is enough thank you." He patted the loaf as a small child. It wasn't cold, room temperature, barely wiggling under the soft pats. "I'll leave the door open, don't make a mess." Rising he headed for the bedroom to get dressed.
Sample detected... Initialization start... DNA imprinting queued.
++++++
The Storrel's general contractor called an early lunch due to the July heat. Without air conditioning the upper floors were ovens. The third floor was done along with the ceilings on the second. They were behind but it still looked good all the drywall would be done today, ending the week on a good note.
Anthony shook sweat from soaked brunette hair before heading downstairs to his truck's AC. Once inside he started the engine and cranked it and the radio. Five minutes of classic rock and all the vents pointing at him got the sweat under control. He dropped the volume, spun the fan to low, and redialed the Lawyer's office on his cell phone to setup a visit to Aunt D's house.
Neural source registered... Non-imprint species... Analyzing.
Where, where? Marked, marked, yes. Fresh, yes, yes. Dig, dig, yes, yes! Umm! Meat, dirt, bone!
Muscle control... Memory recall... Recording.
"No, 10 o'clock is fine. Meet you there. Thanks Kelly." Tapping the end button.
His request fell trough a couple transfers before reaching Kelly. She had a great phone voice and hadn't minded showing him his Aunt's papers on the weekend. Handling relatives, he guessed, came with being a junior lawyer. Threw the truck in gear to get a quick burger and fries. Here's hoping she looked like she sounded.
It was a surprise finding out Aunt D. lived only a few miles from his parent's house. So why didn't she visit more often? When she did show up at the front door it was a big deal to his folks. Always wearing the same lab coat and starving for Mom's cooking. She would sit at the dining room table while Mom went hyper in the kitchen, gabbing and eating nonstop. After that they’d join Dad in the living room, talking nearly until dawn. Between her all night visits, he couldn't remember Mom and Dad ever visiting her or speaking about her.
++++++
Left the truck in the driveway when he got home. The sun had set, last light fading. An electrical inspector showed up around 2 o'clock and had everybody sitting on their hands for 2 hours rechecking the wire runs for each breaker. Some pissed off sub-contractor had reported the general rewired after his first inspection. That idiot hadn't known which end of a nail to pound.
Neural source recognized... Gender parameters open... Imprinting.
Calling from the front door, "Dee, sorry I'm late. The job ran late... as usual."
He walked over to a chair with a view of the open closet and sat down, unlacing his boots. The dough rested in black foam. No scales, spikes, or spots. Nothing. Fifteen hours should've changed something right? He was too tired to think, setting both boots next to the chair, groaning as he got up.
"A quick shower, then bed." Passing the closet he closed the door to a crack, "Sleep tight."
Hair still damp he skipped the boxers and crawled under the sheets. A roll toward the alarm clock swung his hand on the set button. Saturday's were off days but not tomorrow. Back onto his back the blank of sleep beat the pillow case getting wet.
Prime propulsion start.
A minute later 1303 rested on the wood floor of the closet, slightly smaller than a basketball, perfectly round. Internal densities shifted, changing the sphere's center of gravity, rolling 1303 forward. Bumping into the door transferred 1303's momentum, swinging the door open enough to pass. Sensing the range and direction of Anthony's sleeping mind 1303 rolled down the hall and through his open bedroom door.
REM sleep detected... Subconscious modeling start... Recording.
Fourteen ex-girlfriends surrounded Anthony sitting naked in an empty kiddy pool. The girls ranged from 16 to 29, all topless, hands cupping large breasts, small breasts, matched pairs, and different sized pairs for inspection. He sat on colorful plastic unable to answer their chant. What's wrong with these? Anthony? What's wrong with these?
This post has been edited by Photh: 25 July 2010 - 03:42 AM
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Photh, on 24 May 2009 - 09:09 PM, said:
