The Coma Pt. 01

Ron slipped on a banana peel.

It really was as stupid as that.

The rotting fruit peel blended in just enough with the grimy New York sidewalk that his distracted eyes passed over it completely. The dropping sensation hit his stomach as his foot flew forward and his head flew backwards. He heard a sickening crack.

-----

Ron woke up in his apartment. Or was it? Something was... undefinably different. Before our adventure continues, it would be worth getting to know our protagonist. Ron Jordan is a youngish man, short but powerfully built. Larger shoulders define a strong frame; not toned but strong. He has sharp green eyes, full lips, and straight black hair which he wears long, down to his collarbones. Now, as with most mornings, it is tied back in a low-profile ponytail. But back to our story.

Shaking his head, which felt sore beyond the usual coffee headache, Ron slipped into jeans and t-shirt and dragged himself through his daily rituals. Coffee. Eggos. Getting angry at the internet. As a freelance writer that was partially his job description, though. And he was good at it.

The first truly "off" thing Ron noticed was when he went to slip his wallet into his pocket. He always kept sixty cash in there for emergencies. But there was an odd weight to it that hadn't been there before. "What the-" He dug his hand into the wallet, pulling out a trio of strange metal discs. His eyes widened. He had never seen anything like these before. All three coins, for oversized coins they were, carried the same image on the back side: a fairly detailed image of what could only be a profile view of a pair of lips engulfing an engorged penis. He whirled around, looking for the prankster, or hidden camera. But no, he was alone.

The back of each coin had originally been blank, but each had been inscribed. The first coin said "Katerina Scaglia" in an elegant, cursive script. The next said "Charity Baldwin" in a cute font with a few flowers etched beside it. The last one said in funky, futuristic letters "Sarah Reynolds."

Ron started at the coins. Their purpose was fairly obvious, but for the life of him he had no idea where they'd come from. Had Paul played another prank, running to some sort of sleazy massage parlor or club to bring him back blowjob tokens? But Paul probably would have showed up by now to laugh at him.

Ron shrugged, and threw on his pack. He usually worked in a coffee shop two blocks away. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk he had to reach out a hand to steady himself. Something was definitely very different. The cars and crowded NYC streets were the same. The noise and smell were basically the same. It was the people. Something about the people was different.

Everyone was... cleaner. Better presented. He had to admit: sexier. Men tended to be either clean-shaven as Bon villains or to wear perfectly rugged shadows of facial hair. Women's hair tended to be longer, generally worn loose and flowing behind them and over their shoulders in that perfect silken mass.

Is there some sort of holiday?

As he walked down the steps of his apartment there was a quick shriek of a door swinging open. He heard his neighbor call his name: "Oh hey Ron! Can I ask you a favor?"

Ron knew the voice well. Sarah Reynolds had been his neighbor for a year and a half. She was an artsy, outgoing woman. Tall, with a shapely muscular form and blonde hair that she kept bobbed around her chin. Or at least, she had. Ron gaped.

Sarah has always kept her thick & blonde hair in a bob that teased at her chin and danced above her shoulders. Ron, cherishing a decided preference for long hair on women, had always felt just a tinge of disappointment on seeing her golden, playful locks kept so short.

But something had happened: Sarah's hair hung in thick, heavy sheets that covered her shoulders and threatened to approach her midriff. She tucked some of the silken curtain behind her ear as she leaned out of her apartment.

"Hey Ron, I'm buying a new TV tonight, so I'm going to need all my tokens to swing it. Can you stop by sometime tonight so I can get back the one I gave you for groceries last month?"

Ron was flustered, confused and, embarrassingly, somewhat aroused by the golden hair that even now swept over and around Sarah's breasts, caressing them through her top. So it was without thinking that he quickly nodded and said "Oh yeah, sure! No problem."

She smiled, nodded a quick thanks, and went back inside. He walked on, increasingly confused. This wasn't his old life, he was increasingly certain. People and places were more or less the same, but there were just too many differences. An alternate reality then. A parallel universe. He remembered falling, the blinding pain in his head. Was he dead? Comatose?

His dark musings were interrupted, somewhat unwillingly, by the sight of a elegant woman walking the other way. She had a slight frame, but a huge, thick mane very dark brown hair. It fell past her waist, but ended in a neat trim line. Her thin body seemed to almost be lost sometimes as the thick waves of hair swirled around her face and over her body. She wore, he could partially make out, a blue sweater with some college logo atop yoga pants.

He turned right for the coffee shop, hoping that his starting had not been noticed. No use: the door jingled behind him, and the lady with the hair was in line behind him. Ron, somewhat shy by nature, kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. The next few minutes lasted a year, but eventually he had ordered his coffee. The clerk, a skinny teen with an oversized t-shirt, rang him up then said "That'll be one sixth. On your tab, that makes a half."

Ron knew what none of those words meant, but the clerk seemed satisfied, so he went to the far end of the counter to wait for his mocha. He couldn't help overhearing the conversation of the gorgeous woman who had been behind him.

"Grande cold brew and a chocolate chip cookie, please."

The clerk rang it up, then said

"That'll be one sixth. On your tab, that makes one. Do you have a token?"

The woman looked down into her purse, her heavy hair a waterfall around her face as she dipped her head.

"Ah, damn, I treated for dinner last night. Fresh out. Can I redeem?"

The clerk looked around. There was no one else in the shop, and the current patrons were munching & sipping happily.

"That's fine. Want to use the room?"

He pointed a spindly arm towards the restrooms, where, Ron saw, there was a third doorway labeled "Redemption Room."

"No, it's alright. I'm in a bit of a rush."

The clerk nodded and lifted the countertop doorway. The women smiled and stepped inside, hair swishing against the countertop.

The clerk leaned back against the countertop.

The woman knelt in a smooth motion, the line of her dark hair almost brushing the floor.

Resting one arm on the man's stomach she unzipped his pants with the other one, flipping a rapidly swelling and strongly curved member from within.

Ron dropped his coffee.

Of course, the coffee dropping sound drew all eyes to him. The clerk said quickly, "Oh gosh; I'm sorry sir. Do you need a refill for that?"

The woman merely joined the rest of the patrons in looking at him with vague concern.

Ron's brain was mush, but she shook his head and said "No worries, my fault. I'll get it." He mechanically started edging towards the napkins but kept his gaze fixed on the couple.

The clerk shrugged and returned his attention to the woman. She, for her part, had leaned forward to lightly hold just the head of the clerk's penis in her mouth, while simultaneously holding his gaze with lustful eyes. The thick curtain of her hair framed her face and lips as she rocked gently back and forth, lips just beginning to explore past the head.

Ron stared, slack jawed. And yet, none of the other people in the restaurant even looked up. One of the men in the restaurant stood up to leave, throwing out his coffee cup. He went to make a comment to the clerk but, seeing the woman currently devouring the man's cock, merely shrugged and walked out the door.

Ron was transfixed. They were into it now. The woman moaned softly past the large organ filling her mouth, still locking eyes onto the clerk. He moaned himself, eventually reaching down to grab a great handful of the silky hair and push, controlling her pace. She gave a lusty "mmmph" and increased her pace, finally lowering her gaze to focus on his erection. She left both hands at her sides. The silky curtain of her hair closed down on both sides, so that little protruded from the dark, shiny locks except his cock and the tip of her nose. Their moans reached a fever pitch, and Ron watched in amazement as she stayed firmly latched on to the spasming penis, swallowing gamely throughout his orgasm.

When it was over, she unhurriedly stood up, tucking her hair behind her ears again. The clerk smiled and showed her the tab.

"Well that's cleared. And you have a third of credit."

She smiled at him. "You're sweet, thank you."

"No, thank *you*!"