I put quarters in the candy machine searching the nougat landscape for an Original Scorched Earth bar. The chocolate love melts on sunny days and in the napalm of your touch my fingers get sweetly sticky. I taste each one before I wipe them off on my pants.
Hiroshima was enough, I always wonder why Nagasaki? The silhouettes haunt you, or they soon will.
She was an enigma to me, initially so alluring, so beautiful in the photographs she sent. Small, with delicate shoulders that curved gracefully to her small breasts, dancer's breasts, I only saw those few photographs of her, one of her sitting at a table, another one of just her head.
We had fallen in love; I guess you can call it love for two people who had never met in person, who had only talked in stilted text messages and a few passionate phone calls. I had sent a lot of pictures of me, increasing in intimacy as we talked more and more intimately. She promised to send me pictures of her, but her camera never seemed to work.
Twice she had planned to travel so we could meet, but both trips fell through, so it was not until she moved into my town for good, that we were able to meet. Unable to meet her at the airport, I visited her at her hotel, but instead of going up to her room, we had dinner and spent the evening talking in the hotel lobby.
I didn't think much of it though, figuring that it was good to take it slow, that even though we had shared our most intimate thoughts and fantasies together, we still needed to grow more comfortable being physically together. I returned home, to my wife and kids that evening, still completely committed to the woman who had traveled to me, but somewhat unsettled.
Since she was a dancer, I did expect her body to be much firmer than most women I knew, but she still seemed strange. She moved with a strangely awkward grace, almost as if she were dancing, but to the wrong song.
After meeting her at her hotel for several days, she finally invited me up to her room, which she had well stocked in booze. I had quite a bit to drink already, but accepted each drink she offered me in her room. By the time we settled down together on the couch, I was very drunk.
She asked me to undress and then ducked into the bathroom. When she emerged she wore a beautiful gown. I stood up clumsily and moved to her, but before I reached her, she turned off the light, so when we embraced, we were in complete darkness.
I moved her straps off her shoulders and let the gown fall to the floor, as I pushed my erection toward her, wanting to let it slide between her thighs. She had turned and I pushed myself against the side of her thigh as she continued to turn, brushing her ass against my cock.
"On the table there is some lube, please put it on."
"I want you to fuck me in the ass," she whispered excitedly.
I had never done that before, so I was enthusiastic about the prospect and fumbled on the table finally grabbing the lube and quickly coating my cock. Reaching for her, I grabbed her hips and began to push to her.
"Let me back onto you, it's easier that way."
I was surprised how easily my cock slipped into her tight ass and I quickly found myself thrusting in and out of her. The sensation was incredible and I came in no time, spurting my hot come deep in her ass. Gently pulling from her, I felt her immediately turn and push me back onto the bed.
Lying back on the bed, I felt her arms hook under my knees as she pulled me to the edge of the bed. I could see her face in the faint light, her eyes seemed so intense. I felt something brush my ass and I wondered... "It must be a dildo, she must be wearing a strap on," I said to myself.
She pushed slowly, but firmly and I felt the device slide into me. It didn't vibrate and it felt soft, soft but hard at the same time. I felt her begin to move in and out of me and I realized my cock had hardened again. Her hands reached down to my erection and began stroking as she continued fucking me in the ass.
Suddenly a bright light flashed on, and guessing she turned on the light, I sat up some to watch her fuck me. There were no straps or anything else to hold the dildo on her body and I noticed an odd shadow just before the lights went back out. Confused and dazed, I didn't move, figuring the booze simply had me thinking I saw something I didn't.
I then heard her moan and felt a warm, liquid sensation deep in my ass. I then noticed that the dildo didn't seem as large and hard as it had. I sat up as it slid from my ass, and in the faint light, I realized for the first time it was a real cock.
Feeling sick, I ran to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. My throat and mouth burned as the taste of the rank alcohol and bile. I turned on the water and rinsed my mouth out and then stepped back into the room.
She had turned on the light and was wearing her gown again. Looking down at her crotch, I noticed a small wet spot and a faint bulge.
"Get out," she screamed at me.
"You're just like all the rest."
She threw my clothes at me and I quickly put them on. When I finished I moved to her, but she backed away.
"Stay away from me."
"Just leave, just leave," she shouted, pointing at the door.
Confused and still reeling from the combination of the alcohol and the shock I stumbled out into the corridor and headed for the elevator. Before getting on the elevator, I stopped at a soda machine and bought a soda, hoping the caffeine would help sober me up some.
I drove home carefully, gently closing the door behind me, trying not to wake up my wife. Unfortunately she was already awake and she angrily led me to the computer, where she opened an email that had been addressed to her. I felt a shiver run through my body when I saw who it was from. It was all there, with copies of the many, many emails I had shared with this woman... man... whatever it was. It didn't matter, my life had suddenly changed.
The pictures arrived at home and work a few days later, two well focused, professional looking prints clearly showing my face, my legs raised in the air and a cock, burrowing into my ass. A third shot from a different angle, clearly show both our faces. It suddenly hit me... the light coming on, the shadow and then the darkness again. I tossed my copies of the pictures into the trash, knowing there were plenty more.
It was hard to understand, I'm not sure I'll ever figure it all out though. I mean, the emails she... he sent were enough, so devastatingly sordid, but I just didn't understand the photographs.
I put quarters in the candy machine; the vacuum wrapped desolation shines in neat little rows. In the bright heat of sun you asked: "What melts in time and reason?" And when it melts what happens? Can it wipe off on my pants?
Hiroshima was enough, why Nagasaki? Strange silhouettes now dance darkly in my dreams, I wonder about hers... his.