Odyssey Ch. 02

Chapter 2 The Nuclear Option

This second incarnation of the Hatter, there is conundrum indeed. Nothing has prepared me, no one has forewarned me, suddenly alone without friend or family in an endless ocean of time. The physics I understand, had I not been blessed with the best education, the foremost teachers, but no degree of learning could prepare my soul for the emptiness of a solitary journey through eternity.

December two thousand thirteen, the scent of snow was in the air. The world had been rocked by one natural disaster after another and I was feeling lonely.

Survival seems an accomplishment when the one of two choices and I had attained that goal, ripped myself from the path of self destruction that beckoned so seductively and chosen confinement within this prison instead. The decision was made on the roll of a dice. I would like to claim a modicum of interest as to the outcome but in all honesty my essence's balance continued purely by chance without particular desire either way. To continue theorizing esthetically was as much an anathema to me as finality but in respect to my society's ethics I felt some obligation to lay that decision at an independent door rather than to be pointedly omnipotent. The dice showed six and in respect to such overwhelming odds I grudgingly decided to take another breathe.

Companions had always been a weakness. Choice was not my strong point, attracted easily by look or sentiment I seldom made decisions based on anything but chance and gut reaction, neither diagnostically proved to inspire confidence in the fullness of time. She was the eighth I had allowed into my being, permitted to feed more of my true nature than just physical craving or intellectual boredom. I had initially considered just using her for momentary amusement but that particular string had reached such lengthy proportions that another dalliance seemed totally pointless. Sexual release has never been a necessity for me, ejaculation a decided second to the immense pleasure found in the total sating of my partners senses. Indeed my only reason for the production of precious seed was as the final overwhelming act to cement utter submission.

She was defenseless. Her last climax had seemed to lift her body clear of all connection with the duvet to hover weightless as fluid poured from her orifices with uncontrollable force to gather in a glistening pool between her parted thighs. I drank as she came, imbibed her essence ravenously and felt life fill me anew. The swollen lips of her labia lay open and pulsing with the unrepentant force of her release. My fingertips traced their luxuriant contours marveling at the texture of velveteen opulescence. She stirred a little, barely conscious still but aware enough of my touch to release a deep sigh. Suddenly I felt the need to take her. Fill the wanton core of her being with my presence. I shuddered and in that momentarily loss of composure knew the perfect symmetry of celestial conjunction.

My first companion seems like a dream now. Memories of her smell and touch nudge at me from deep within my soul but real recollections are separated by the passage of too much time. It was my first metamorphosis, when all I was and all I had envisaged melted from my being like a fine sprinkling of snow under the radiant suns penetrating glare. In that moment I was naked, new born, without form or purpose. Then she the Princess of the Nile my first true love stepped into the brightness. How we loved, like caged beasts freed at last our couplings shook the ground with force enough to uproot mighty trees. Endless frenzied passion followed. An ever faster twisting hurricane of desperate desire consuming all before and leaving only destruction in its wake, till unable to hold together under any natural law fragmented into a thousand tiny pieces never to be seen again.

She stirred. I felt the weight of her thigh slide seductively across my back and the knowledge of her now openness bought fire to my groin. In a blink I was ready, lance stiff and straight couched fast for a deep a penetrating thrust through overflowing lips into her well. Tip slotted between the wispy strands of dampened foliage partially obscuring my target I tensed for a sudden swift plunge.

At that moment, with a dreamy wanton sigh she turned and with arched back presented her darker hadean entry for my discovery.

How could I refuse? Refrain from penetrating the willing receptacle so hot and tight, offered so unexpected for my pleasure. The entry was nervous, not yet sure if what was knocking on the door would pass easily across the threshold to lodge inside. I was gentle but firm, no pushing brutish or inconsiderately but with force enough to ensure forward motion. The head lodged perfectly, staring with unblinking eye of Adam deep into the corridor. She gripped the neck tightly, her pressure causing the beasts velveteen skin to pulse deliciously and as it did her gateway responded, giving centimeter by luscious centimeter till I was swallowed utterly within a cylindrical sheath of bliss.

Feeling begets emotion, reaction and finally movement. Thus that spark of utter joyous union was translated into the expression of creation. Only miniscule at first, a subtle building of pressure investing steamily the chambers walls whilst stirring enlightening gauges to oncoming friction. Building steadily, witnessed by overflowing veins of life force pulsating through the pumps anatomy whilst barely coded messages transmit imperatives deep within control cortex.

The piston is forced upwards within the cylinders shaft by natures overwhelming physics supposed within control of the engineer but always necessarily just in the danger zone, before plunging mercilessly down again into the depths with a scything stroke.

Her smell is subtlety enveloping my being. I lay quietly enough, momentarily spend but still alert and at the point of stirring, wanting to stay but afraid the trap will close and no escape will be ever possible. She is the grain of sand I fear. The rough texture will cause me to smooth her, enclose her with knowledge and training till her texture no longer disturbs me but completes me. Yet in that process I too will change and for all I gain something of this uniqueness that is me will be lost.

Turning over she kisses my chest. Her lips brush my nipple, enough suction causing a hardening physical reaction even though I know it is but the manifestation of a dream. Her hair settles in tangled knots on my face, irritating but equally calming, my brain fights emotional reactions, releasing swell to break across my so long barren shoreline. I need to move, have to sever this creeping connection before the cement has hardened into unity. Yet I a statue and breathing in her intoxication allow addiction to draw ever closer.

I must have drifted, floating joyously upon the enticing softness of her presence. I never felt her move, knew nothing of thought or intent till her lips enveloped totally my flaccid rod. Nature's electricity, sending lightening bolts to surge through my being inducing morbid flesh to pulsating reanimation. Instantaneous engorgement, vibrancy, total focus dispelling clouds of lethargy to directed unreserved response.

Her eyes are tightly closed. Still sleeping, moving in seeming carnal automation she consumes me. Gently sliding, lascivious strokes of oral enclosure from swollen mushroom head to tensing root. Such combined lingual balletic precision, a masterpiece with pas de plie and cabriole enough to delight the senses beyond control. Testes tighten into solid cannon shot prepared for a long resounding salute.

The second day and I still feel unable to stray. My body aches from such constant vigorous interplay but sore muscles and tender flesh won't stop the cavorting routines from continuing flow. We take turns, each ride till exhausted before becoming the mount in this gymkhana of lust. We sleep on occasion, limbs entangling in knots of passion to awaken rocking once more in copulating rhythm. Food we take sparsely. Each morsel becomes an excuse to enhance a movement, a taste or dalliance, being placed, eaten and licked from every conceivable surface and nook. Bodies become serving dishes of delicious pattern and texture enhancing solid and liquid equally.

Her scent guides my lips. The trail of almost crystallized moisture given so willingly, reaching from gaping love wound to knee feeds my growing passion as I slowly move upwards lapping hungrily. Her skin is firm and yet responsive. The texture of finest silk, hot and pliant, it seems to respond with unquenchable need to my slightest ministration. My olfactory senses are overwhelmed and without subtlety my tongue plunges deeply to ravish her interior. Even in half slumber her hands drop to capture my head in place and hips thrust upwards to open the sweet pungent depths to my thrusts. She tastes different, as if our essences have mingled together to form a new unique compound. I feast as starved, but this repast is always to be taken ravenously.

She is my TARDIS. Taking me forward to futures I had never imagined possible and backwards to times and pleasures oft considered unrepeatable. Each delicate portal she offers has the power to transport my being beyond understanding. Her soft folds pull me to a place that ensures my continuance in a miracle of dividing and sub dividing cells. Her dark core draws from me the anger and frustration of constant struggle and leaves it spent and sterile in her depths. My chariot constructed for endless meandering drawn forth by adoring succubae at her command.

When all else fails we are left with but one course, the Nuclear Option. Sometimes good intentions are more dangerous than any climactic solution. The power crisis had reached the point of conflagration. Power was in the hands of the few and the cost was on the backs of the many. Ethics has little control over commerce, the despotism of production and distribution is the deadliest of diseases to any race or culture. From the first particle of light that illuminated an expanding universe the battle has raged, an eternal disparity between those who possess and those who need.

The foundation of terrestrial life is carbon. Yet it is on this very molecule that humanity had decided to stake its future. Ever looking down for new sources of energy, consuming the very ground upon which they built the seeming blind shunned looking upwards towards the stars and endless power. Yes they played a bit, tinkered with toys that utilized small effects of celestial majesty. Tried to capture wind, or harvest light, even tap the movement of the waves. Clever novel ideas doomed to failure as surely as banking on the finite for infinity.

I have seen suns die, watched civilizations fall like dominoes before natures storm. Always there is rebirth, expansion, a continuous universal waltz to ever more wondrous possibility.

There is one common denominator in all futures. The Nuclear Option is ever visible and undeniable.