tagSci-Fi & FantasyFucking Jesus

Fucking Jesus

bymia_erotica©

Mia had good taste for a whore. She wore a Ferretti chiffon strapless in melon sherbet along with the tiniest leopard print on a pair of Jimmy Choo stiletto sandals to her date with her new client. She knew it was better for a woman in her line of work to wear stockings and a garter belt. Care should always be noted when revealing her kick-ass body to a stranger, and the tips were better. But she didn't worry about what should be, because Mia had great legs and this was Miami.

She loved this time of year. It was almost Christmas and the night breeze reminded her of summer nights in Saratoga where she grew up. Warm but not humid, 75 degrees at ten o'clock. It was the perfect weather to wear her luxurious strawberry-blonde hair down. Mia looked into the rear view mirror and checked her lipstick again. Then she re-pinned the diamond clips holding her long bangs in place at the top of her head. She unclasped the seatbelt and made her way towards the V Bar.

Mia could always spot a client. He was usually mid-to-late forties, wearing a disheveled business suit from travel, alone, naturally, and sitting at the bar sipping the first of two drinks. Was she early? She glanced at her wrist. Shit, she'd forgotten her watch. Time. How had she forgotten? Mia was always prompt. And her business operated on the hour. Maybe there had been something different about his voice on the phone earlier, something that had put her into a trance, thinking of holidays years ago when meeting someone on Christmas Eve meant a renewal of faith and love and…the hope of a real connection.

His distinguished voice seemed reassuring somehow, his temperament relaxed, and this was odd for a first timer.

He'd asked, "I understand you enjoy travel, is that right, Mia?"

"I enjoy a lot of things," she'd answered.

"I'd like to take you on a journey to the deepest recesses that you can imagine. Meet me at the Hotel Victor...."

He'd said other things; that his name was Jude Remington and that he'd missed his connecting flight to New York on his way back to London. His voice penetrated her eardrum like a velvet dildo, and a voice inside of her head said go to him. He will lead you to your destiny. There was a time when Mia believed in that inner voice. It had led her to Miami.

Mia glanced around the room. The usual suspects sprawled on the red settees: vacationers from the Midwest sipping wine in their Sunday best, clusters of gay revelers looking like a Post-Modern beer commercial, and Miami Cubans displaying the satin and shine of South Beach's night life. She settled on the bar again because this time there was a man sitting alone, resting his elbow on the back of the Art Deco leather stool sipping from one of the two martini glasses in front of him. He wore a tan leather blazer, which Mia thought made him look like an anachronism in time. He resembled a detective in a 1970s TV series with his short blonde hair. She approached.

He didn't look up when she took the seat next to him, as though they were about to have illicit dealings, which, naturally, they were.

"Happy Christmas," he said.

"And to you," she replied, "Have you been here long?"

"It depends on what you define as long. I've waited a lifetime for you, Mia. I hear you are the best Miami has to offer."

I don't know about that," she said flirtatiously, "but I do specialize in rather usual gifts."

"I rather thought so." He slid the other glass towards her.

"I don't drink alcoholic beverages when I'm on the clock," she said, "You understand."

"I don't see a time piece on your person, which indicates that there is no need to follow rules."

He returned her gaze, finally. The pupils of his brown eyes swelled like a cat's, like giant saucers. Mia submitted to the drink. It was clear and had no flavor but warmed her throat immediately like a potent cough syrup.

He asked, "Do you like it?"

"Yes," she replied, "And you. I mean I like you. You're very…different from men I usually meet…in bars. There's something…."

"Let's talk in my hotel room. It's overlooking the ocean and I'm quite certain that you will be entertained by my proposition, Mia Mandolin."

Mia hadn't remembered sharing her last name with him. Suddenly this seemed wrong. She needed to abort. She reached into her Gucci clutch to retrieve her keys. She rose and immediately felt light-headed. After only a few sips of liquor? Mia was hardly a light-weight and yet she felt inebriated. How odd.

"Come, Mia," he said, "Let me help you."

Mia looked at her client again. He was very handsome, younger than most but rugged with a strong jaw-line and a friendly smile. The clothing though…the leather jacket over a black turtleneck sweater and flared leg trousers of a thin wool. The outline of his hard cock rested beneath.

"An eternity awaits, young lady. Please, this way."

He steered Mia by the arm in the direction of the hotel lobby and then to the elevator. Alone for the first time he kissed her. His breath had no scent, like a ghost, and his lips were a powerful vacuum clinging to hers. Breathless, Mia awaited her orders.

He said, "The effects of the potion are working, aren't they dear?"

"Potion?"

"I've given you an elixir that shall help in the transition."

"From kiss to orgasm?"

"Indeed. But I was referring to time and space."

"Mr. Remington…"

"Jude," he said, "Mia, please, let's not be so formal. Although I rather like your professionalism."

They kissed again and Mia felt that for the first time she'd receive an orgasm from a client before administering one. What was in that drink? The elevator doors opened and Jude Remington nudged Mia towards his room.

Mia had worked this hotel before. The rooms overlooking the ocean were among her favorites, because she could sit out on the balcony alone and relax as her clients slept off their orgasms. And tonight the breeze was particularly spectacular.

She asked, "What business brought you to Miami?"

"I'm a collector of sorts," he said, "And I've come to collect you."

"I don't understand."

He said, "I'd like to test the merchandise first."

Mia thought that this was some sort of British foreplay, both formal and mysterious. He wanted to collect her. Was that code for something, like the equivalent to a notch in a lipstick case? He was a world traveler. Perhaps he collected the flavor of pussy?

Mia asked, "Have you an envelope for me?"

"Yes," he said, "But it's rather heavy. I hope you will accept payment in gold? I've no use for other currency."

Mia took the envelope filled with the unusual coins. They looked like they'd come from a treasure chest buried deep in the sea. She'd seen something similar in an Internet news story recently, about coins found near Jerusalem. She squeezed the thick and heavy parcel into her clutch while he removed his trousers.

Jude Remington's confidence intrigued her. His sizable cock throbbed as he masturbated it to a larger erection. He seemed to be interested in her reaction to this behavior. Mia stared at the magnificent, almost iridescent rod.

He said, "Mia, lie down on the bed please. No, there's no need to remove your clothing. We're aiming for a quick fuck first, and then we'll begin our journey."

He reached out his hand and Mia placed hers in his never breaking their gaze. His grip, stronger than she'd anticipated, pulled her to the bed where he then guided her to the center. It was dressed in white bedding with a dark wood canopy, elegant in its simplicity. A simple fuck, Mia thought. A simple, festive, missionary Christmas fuck.

"Mr. Rem…Jude, please. Aren't you forgetting to wrap up?"

"I'm not forgetting. I've no need for such conventions, Mia," he said, "I have powers of which you aren't yet aware. No worries, my dear."

He mounted her abruptly. His cock entered her cunt like a steam train pushing its way into her dry tunnel creating its own juice to slide towards her womb. Mia's head felt confused. No, stop. Why wasn't she adhering to her rules? Her head became muddled. Normally a client fuck wielded no emotional satisfaction and Mia thought about shopping. But she couldn't even think now. Mr. Remington's cock became a cork to her memories and her mind focused on the feeling of their connection. In, out, in, out. His cock thrusted into her cunt and juices spilled out connecting with her bikini line then dripping down her thigh.

He whispered, "Do you feel me inside of you, Mia? I am becoming your Master. My cock is the only thing you will crave."

Master.

She moaned despite her attempts to quell her desire. His cock felt like a dagger shredding her mucous membrane and a sharp pain caused her to yelp.

"That's it, Mia," he said, "Accept my cock. Feel it unlock the door to your deepest desires and wishes."

He attacked her cunt with vigor. His hands wandered past her hips to her ass. His finger ventured into the terrain of her asshole and then another one secured a position. She became pinioned to him. His tongue dove down her throat and Mia felt like it was another cock and it reminded her of that time she fucked those twenty-four-year-old twins…. That memory became dream-like. What was happening to her?

Mia made no attempt to join in the rhythm of the fuck. She lay there like a prisoner and accepted the brunt of his passion. Now he gathered her wrists with his free hand and held them above her head. He pummeled her with his cock assault, never breaking eye-contact.

He said, "You'll do nicely as my pet, Mia. You see, I've watched you for many years, and waited until the right moment to have you."

Mia wanted to say I don't understand, but she could only muster another moan. She felt she'd contributed nothing to his pleasure lying fully clothed in a heap of chiffon with her thong pushed aside allowing his cock to connect so powerfully with her cunt. She'd worked much harder for less, and yet Jude Remington seemed to desire some sort of permanent relationship. It just didn't make sense because Mia began to feel the same way. Her body craved him.

He kissed her again and she had only one thought. Mia wanted to swallow his cum. She thirsted for him. She desired it like a drug. She knew nothing of her British client, except that she wanted to follow him, and she felt like she was falling into a well, a rabbit hole of unmitigated desire.

Mia began to match his thrusts with her own. She moved her hips to meet their connection in mid air, grinding in an attempt to take control, but he was much too strong to allow it.

She groaned, "Please, please…."

"Suck me off, young lady," he ordered.

He pulled his cock from its position inside its cunt nest and it dribbled sparkling semen on her dress on its way into her mouth. He straddled her as he steadied himself into position. Mia prepared for the expected deluge. She choked and sputtered and struggled to swallow the liquid cum. He tasted like the drink he'd offered, like effervescent air. He retracted.

"Thank you," he said.

Mia felt as she had after sipping the cocktail, both woozy and confused. She staggered to the bathroom.

She peed and then washed her hands. Looking at her reflection she thought she looked sexy in that just fucked way, but her head felt heavy with hangover-like symptoms. She lifted the toilet seat up and immediately threw up. Crystal bile formed in the bowl, a strange glittery liquid. This was embarrassing and completely unprofessional. Despite any unusual circumstances she had a reputation to maintain, a reputation for quality. Satisfaction guaranteed and all that. Mia searched for a toothbrush and some paste in the complimentary basket on the vanity. She brushed her teeth then took a towel to wipe the residue from her dress. When she felt ready she emerged from the bathroom and settled on the edge of the bed laying her plum velvet clutch in her lap.

He stood by the mini bar, fully clothed now, and poured himself another martini. God, he was sexy.

"Very well then," he said, "The effects of the liquid will ease the transition, as I've mentioned before. You needn't worry, dear Mia, it is quite harmless. It renders your mind a blank. In this way we can travel the world, throughout time and space."

"Space travel?"

He replied, "Time travel. Indeed. My methods were discovered by Professor Lawrence Midrake at Cornell University. He'd worked closely with Dr. Carl Sagan in the early seventies. I helped them pioneer their research. I won't bore you with the specifics, you know, constellations and fractilinears and numerological transpondits. It's all rather simple really, because as I've always said, and still do, of course, the simplest solution is often the best course of action."

Mia smiled and pretended to listen actively just as she'd done dozens of times with other clients. She felt unusually dizzy again and wondered how she would drive herself home in this condition. She directed her attention on Jude Remington's crotch. His erection was back.

She said, "I've never heard of fractilinears or transpondits."

He said, "Just know, my dear, that I am a collector of trinkets. And Mia, you are the gem of my collection."

"A collector?" Mia responded, "Mr. Remington, please. Time travel? What the F are you talking about? Is this some sort of joke? I mean like two lonely people needing a Christmas miracle?"

He smirked.

"O.K.," she said, "I'll play along for a while."

He explained, "We simply eliminate the mind and concentrate on our most high frequency thoughts. But I will do that for you because I am your Master now. I thought we'd begin with something simple, like a trip back from where I came down your throat, moments ago in this very room."

Mia thought, or his cock could take a trip back inside her cunt to finish her off. Then an irrational thought occurred to her.

"And then?" Mia blurted, "Back to old London where you'll reveal that you're Jack the Ripper?"

"How utterly macabre!" he said with a chuckle, "And most certainly not. You're imagination, I say, is quite…creative."

Mia felt uncertain of his tone. Was it sarcasm? What was Jude Remington hiding?

"Come closer, Mia," he ordered, "I won't bite."

Mia hesitated before she approached. He removed something from his jacket pocket. Handcuffs. Quickly, he placed them on her wrists and then lifted her arms around his neck and drew her close. Mia's delayed reaction to her predicament confused her. It all happened so fast. It was too late to struggle. He held her tenderly and, had the circumstances been different, Mia could have mistaken his gentle touch for genuine affection.

"Yes, this will do charmingly," he said, "And this is my favorite way to travel, even if we are only going a short distance in time."

Jude Remington inched backwards as Mia was forced to move with him.

"Now, close your eyes and think of nothing and no one," he instructed, "Focus on the ocean breeze and remember to breathe."

Mia felt her heart rate soar. She felt the breeze on her neck and shoulders as he led her to the edge of the balcony. She looked over the railing and saw the swimming pool below, which looked tiny and shallow in the dark night.

"Remember what I've said. I don't want to lose you."

Mia panicked. The Gucci clutch fell from her grip.

She screamed, "What do you mean? What are you doing?"

"Shush. No thoughts. We are about to fly."

Jude Remington sat on the edge of the balcony and held Mia in his arms. He kissed her again and then smiled. He was a beautiful man, she had to admit, and that thought consumed her until she realized that he wasn't kidding. This handsome psycho was about to kill them both.

He whispered, "Trust me, Mia."

She screamed, "No! Stop! Help!"

And as she fell to the Earth, she screamed, "Jesus Christ!"

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

The bright sunshine reflecting off the golden mountains awakened Mia. She lay on the soft ground, a dirt path, her clutch by her side. Her wrists had red indentations on them. How odd. She rubbed them gently as she looked around. The sun was very warm but the air held no humidity. Her dress felt damp and looked incredibly wrinkled and tattered, as if it had been constructed by an avant-garde deconstructionalist designer. So much for couture.

Mia rose and began to walk. She knew her name, that was a good sign, but she remembered little else. She was alone for the moment but a few feet ahead of her she saw a lake, and the silhouette of a man sitting along the rocks above dangling his feet in the blue-green water. She approached cautiously and as she did a feeling of safety enveloped her.

He looked at her and smiled faintly. Mia thought perhaps that he preferred the solitude to her interruption of it. He seemed familiar to her, as though his image had always been in her heart, this thin young man with shoulder-length wavy hair and a hint of a beard, his green eyes startling.

She said, "I know you."

She meant do I know you? but it came out wrong.

He asked, "Are you a traveler?"

Yes, Mia thought, that's right.

"Through time and space," she said, unsure as to why.

"An angel from heaven," he said, "My mother had made mention of such a glorious gift. Perhaps you'd like to occupy my space for a time? Sit. Put your feet in the warm water of the lake. They must be weary in such high slippers."

"They're Choos."

"Bless you."

She laughed.

"You're funny," she said.

He asked, "Is it what you expected?"

Mia's mind raced. This moment; she'd dreamt of it many times. It was as if she was experiencing clarity while enveloped in a profound love. Emotion raced through her, which she chose to quell, because it seemed so irrational.

"Of course," she replied. And she didn't know why. But she thought, of course, I'll sit with you and of course, you'll protect me and of course, we are meant to be together.

He asked, "How is it that you've come here?"

Mia remembered that she was with someone else only moments before.

She said, "I…I was meeting a man, another man. For a drink. And then I said…. Well, I don't remember what I said."

He held a wooden cup in his hands. He reached down and filled it with the lake water.

He said, "Would you like a drink? I can ferment the water you know."

"Magical powers?"

"Some say."

"That's O.K.," Mia replied, "I'm fine. I'm not thirsty."

He was so kind. Mia sat next to him. She removed her sandals and dangled her feet into the water to mirror his position. The water felt glorious on her tired feet. He drank from the cup then lowered it into the water again, took another drink from it and put it down. Mia took his hand in hers and a surge of love washed her core, like an emotional X-ray. Her emotions threatened to embarrass her. Tears spilled from her eyes. He wiped them with his other hand and she felt his touch absolve her sins. It was such a profound feeling, as if he could solve her problems and rescue her from her deepest darkest fears.

"I am your friend," he said, "Do not be afraid."

Mia smiled and felt the extreme emotion fade to calm.

She said, "My name is Mia, by the way. Mi- Maria Mandolin. I'm from Ft. Lauderdale. That's in Florida, in the U.S."

"U.S.? I am not familiar with it."

She thought what planet did he live on?

"Yes. It's on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, or Pacific, I mean, whichever is closer."

"I see," he said, "This is why your lyrical voice speaks in a strange tongue."

"Strange? You're speaking it too."

He shrugged.

"Maria," he continued, "that is my mother's name. Mary, actually. You're very beautiful, Maria Mandolin. I hope you will stay a while."

His relaxed demeanor kept Mia at ease. He seemed in no hurry to dismiss her. He was so attractive in a Bohemian sort of way. Mia wanted to stay and get to know him. She began to piece together her memories. There was a man, yes. Jude Remington, and they'd fallen from the balcony and she'd screamed. Was she dead? No, she was breathing, and she could feel her heart beating. Suddenly Mia turned to her companion. Was it Him?

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