nsdnq
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MIRROR: Download from MEGA
This is an old "passion project" of mine, that never got past the introductory phase. Now that I'm starting to revisit it, I'll think I'll peg on a few more chapters when I get the time. The actual erotica of it doesn't come into play until later due to the large amount of back story, but I'm still proud of it nonetheless.
The noonday summer sun peirced the tinted windows of my BMW as I sped down the abandoned countryside of northern california. It was a good hour and a half drive from civilization. I had’nt seen jack in ages, but old college buddies always stay in touch. When I told him on facebook that i was passing through so-cal on buisness he offered to put me up for a few nights. jack always was a little strange, something about the way he carried himself always made him stand out. and we had never been terribly close (I had preferred to spend all that i was worth and more in the pubs and whore houses of downtown while he pinched every penny passing his time with his nose in a book back at the frat), but no writer worth his salt ever turns down free feed or lodgings, so i set out for what i anticipated would be an interesting weekend at my former kappa-pi brother residence. little did i know how right i was.
the scent of LA smog still eminated from the leather in my seats as I pulled up to the open gate, i noticed it had electric warning signs, but lacked the buzz of a live current as I pressed the call button and waited to hear a voice. 5 minutes. nothing. called again. another 5 passed. still nothing. well the gates where wide open, so i drove on through looking for signs of human life. As i drove cuatiously down the dirt road/driveway an amazing sight filled my eyes. gorgeous gardens, orchards upon orchards of grapes, oranges, apples, other exotic fruits i didnt recognize, and several acres of wheat. german shepards ran alongside my path running and barking and jumping. jeeps, pick-up trucks, motorcycles, 4-wheelers and cars of every stripe lied either freshly polished or smothered in mud outside of a handful of log cabin styled garages and stables and barnes. What the hell was this place? was I lost? or had jack gotten a job as a ranch hand? no, he didnt seem the type… and something was strangely familiar about the layout of this place, but i couldnt put my finger on it.
Still debateing if i was in the right place as I pulled up to the main building, a beautifull three story cobblestone estate of beige brick and mortar. arabic (or perhaps gothic?) window arches with french windows frames skinned the get-up. solar panels roofed the entire structure and the front porch, which was held up by roman pillars. more lincon-log cabin structures sprouted from the exterior walls on either sides. this was some hum-dinger of a place, it reminded me of a cross between a scotish castle and those missionary churches of the old west. since there was no real drive way, i just followed suit of the jeeps and parked on the lonliest peice of grass i could find. the dogs sniffed my tires before running off to chase some other game. I stepped out into dry heat of the so-cal day and gingerly jogged up onto the porch. nobody seemed to be around. Instead of a front door was an archway large enough to drive my car through. above the lip or the arch, was etched “all that lives is god, do as you willâ€
it was noticably cooler within the building. the first thing that i notice as i enter is to my left, a sizeable gun collection. at least 15 or so carbines, with twice as many .45 hand cannons. all perfectly maintained and cleaned, with enough empty spots on the rack to field a hit squad . I suddenly felt very naked. I looked behind me, now paranoid. on the other side of the arch lip that i had entered through was another inscription “did you remember to dress?†to my right was a gigantic walk-in style closet full of mens and womens clothes, but i wouldnt have known it was there if it had smacked me in the face. my gaze was fixed on an oversized waist high glass jar, filled to the brim, no—overflowing… with money. canadian, mexican and american coins and bills, not just singles either. the face of benjamin franklin stared up at me from the floor. what the fucking hell was this…
My mind was still trying to peice this all together when an ear shattering shreik of excitment came from the closet. before my heart had the chance to jump into my throat a pair of silky smooth arms wrapped themselves around my waist and a pair of wet lucious bee stung lips pressed themselves deep onto mine. It was a hell of a kiss. the kind of deep, long, loving, sensious kiss that short-circuts a mans brain and makes him temprarily retarded. I didnt know what the hell had happened but I didnt want it to end. slowly the lips pulled back, and i got to see the face they belonged too. A woman, strikingly beautifull. so much so you have to spy it in short glances or it will hurt to look at it. she stared back at me with icy blue eyes through wisps of raven black bangs.
“you must be benny! I’m so glad you’re finally here! I’ve heard so much about you! did you find the place okay? that doesnt matter. the boys are out hunting, but we heard shots so they should be back anytime soon.â€
I tried to think of something to say but “uhhh†was the only sound that i could manage. I looked this woman up and down with our hands still gripping lovehandles. she was dressed in nothing but a full body tatoo from her ankles to her neck, full supple breasts a canvas for an oriental tiger bearing its teeth in a mighty roar. I looked back at the money, beyond confused.
“oh i’m sorry the place is such a mess, we’re always falling behind on the house keeping, but thats no excuse. we really should tidy up when theres guests in the house†she said. she ran over and heaped three full hanfulls of bills back into the jar, (7 jeffs and old ben still eyed the roof) before she immediately removed my suit-jacket and hung it up in the closet. I didnt know where the fuck to start.
“i’m terribly embarrassed miss, but I don’t know who the hell you are.†I said blushing a color i didnt know grown men could blush.
“OH! silly me, where are my manners? I’m holly, jacks wife.â€
The noonday summer sun peirced the tinted windows of my BMW as I sped down the abandoned countryside of northern california. It was a good hour and a half drive from civilization. I had’nt seen jack in ages, but old college buddies always stay in touch. When I told him on facebook that i was passing through so-cal on buisness he offered to put me up for a few nights. jack always was a little strange, something about the way he carried himself always made him stand out. and we had never been terribly close (I had preferred to spend all that i was worth and more in the pubs and whore houses of downtown while he pinched every penny passing his time with his nose in a book back at the frat), but no writer worth his salt ever turns down free feed or lodgings, so i set out for what i anticipated would be an interesting weekend at my former kappa-pi brother residence. little did i know how right i was.
the scent of LA smog still eminated from the leather in my seats as I pulled up to the open gate, i noticed it had electric warning signs, but lacked the buzz of a live current as I pressed the call button and waited to hear a voice. 5 minutes. nothing. called again. another 5 passed. still nothing. well the gates where wide open, so i drove on through looking for signs of human life. As i drove cuatiously down the dirt road/driveway an amazing sight filled my eyes. gorgeous gardens, orchards upon orchards of grapes, oranges, apples, other exotic fruits i didnt recognize, and several acres of wheat. german shepards ran alongside my path running and barking and jumping. jeeps, pick-up trucks, motorcycles, 4-wheelers and cars of every stripe lied either freshly polished or smothered in mud outside of a handful of log cabin styled garages and stables and barnes. What the hell was this place? was I lost? or had jack gotten a job as a ranch hand? no, he didnt seem the type… and something was strangely familiar about the layout of this place, but i couldnt put my finger on it.
Still debateing if i was in the right place as I pulled up to the main building, a beautifull three story cobblestone estate of beige brick and mortar. arabic (or perhaps gothic?) window arches with french windows frames skinned the get-up. solar panels roofed the entire structure and the front porch, which was held up by roman pillars. more lincon-log cabin structures sprouted from the exterior walls on either sides. this was some hum-dinger of a place, it reminded me of a cross between a scotish castle and those missionary churches of the old west. since there was no real drive way, i just followed suit of the jeeps and parked on the lonliest peice of grass i could find. the dogs sniffed my tires before running off to chase some other game. I stepped out into dry heat of the so-cal day and gingerly jogged up onto the porch. nobody seemed to be around. Instead of a front door was an archway large enough to drive my car through. above the lip or the arch, was etched “all that lives is god, do as you willâ€
it was noticably cooler within the building. the first thing that i notice as i enter is to my left, a sizeable gun collection. at least 15 or so carbines, with twice as many .45 hand cannons. all perfectly maintained and cleaned, with enough empty spots on the rack to field a hit squad . I suddenly felt very naked. I looked behind me, now paranoid. on the other side of the arch lip that i had entered through was another inscription “did you remember to dress?†to my right was a gigantic walk-in style closet full of mens and womens clothes, but i wouldnt have known it was there if it had smacked me in the face. my gaze was fixed on an oversized waist high glass jar, filled to the brim, no—overflowing… with money. canadian, mexican and american coins and bills, not just singles either. the face of benjamin franklin stared up at me from the floor. what the fucking hell was this…
My mind was still trying to peice this all together when an ear shattering shreik of excitment came from the closet. before my heart had the chance to jump into my throat a pair of silky smooth arms wrapped themselves around my waist and a pair of wet lucious bee stung lips pressed themselves deep onto mine. It was a hell of a kiss. the kind of deep, long, loving, sensious kiss that short-circuts a mans brain and makes him temprarily retarded. I didnt know what the hell had happened but I didnt want it to end. slowly the lips pulled back, and i got to see the face they belonged too. A woman, strikingly beautifull. so much so you have to spy it in short glances or it will hurt to look at it. she stared back at me with icy blue eyes through wisps of raven black bangs.
“you must be benny! I’m so glad you’re finally here! I’ve heard so much about you! did you find the place okay? that doesnt matter. the boys are out hunting, but we heard shots so they should be back anytime soon.â€
I tried to think of something to say but “uhhh†was the only sound that i could manage. I looked this woman up and down with our hands still gripping lovehandles. she was dressed in nothing but a full body tatoo from her ankles to her neck, full supple breasts a canvas for an oriental tiger bearing its teeth in a mighty roar. I looked back at the money, beyond confused.
“oh i’m sorry the place is such a mess, we’re always falling behind on the house keeping, but thats no excuse. we really should tidy up when theres guests in the house†she said. she ran over and heaped three full hanfulls of bills back into the jar, (7 jeffs and old ben still eyed the roof) before she immediately removed my suit-jacket and hung it up in the closet. I didnt know where the fuck to start.
“i’m terribly embarrassed miss, but I don’t know who the hell you are.†I said blushing a color i didnt know grown men could blush.
“OH! silly me, where are my manners? I’m holly, jacks wife.â€
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