if this seems a little “out there” —bear with me. i’m getting better and my head often veers into strange places as i get back to being healthy. 😀 ~nilla~
Sherry ran into the office to see Bradley pulling his hair and staring at his cell phone.
“What, what??” she pulled at his sleeve.
Understanding dawned. Maggie, his wife, had gone into labor, and about two weeks early.
“Look, go. It’s probably Braxton-Hicks, but you can’t be sure since it’s her first. Go.”
“B-but I can’t…alone…you…baby…”
He really was the classic flustered first-time dad, she thought, smiling at him.
“I will be fine. What happens in a small time museum like this? Nothing. Ever. The boss knew you would be on call for Maggie, so I’ll text him and keep him up to speed. Go. Gooooo.”
She push-turned him, snapping him out of his bewildered trance. He grabbed his keys from the desk and ran out the door. A moment later his head popped back inside.
And he was gone. Shaking her head in amusement, she walked to the window. Moments later his head appeared down below. The streets were quiet at this late hour, and she watched the taillights of his car zip down the street. The halls of the small museum were quiet too, she mused, grabbing her phone, her nightstick, and her keys. Time for rounds.
In a Cosmic Alignment, many strange phenomena are rumored to occur. The sudden massive explosive release of atoms into the atmosphere can trigger events both small and nearly unnoticed, and grandiose, or even “weird”. Occurrences noted in the past, such as the opening of thousands of flowers simultaneously, or a massive hatching of insects have not been “officially” recorded as causal as related to the Cosmic Alignment. Also noted, but not attributed to the CA Phenomenon, are the sudden rise of sexual need in all animals within the cone of effect, and the transformation of things from one state of being to another. Little is known about the phenomenon since it happens only once a millennia, and rarely do people record the events that are seen, fearing that they will be perceived as insane.
Such an alignment is anticipated to happen on this day, in the deep part of the night in the northern hemisphere. The changes will last for just a while, as the super-excited electrons dance through the cosmos, drive into our atmosphere, and encite chaos in random and unpredictable ways.
The dizzy spell hit her just as she opened the door to the statue room. She held onto the open portal, swaying, until she felt herself settle. That was weird, but then again, she couldn’t recall if she’d actually eaten lunch or just thought about it. The light in here seemed dimmer than she remembered and she made a mental note to put in a work request to have it checked. There seemed to be a noise across the room. Stupid vent in this room had been acting up all week. She walked over to it, bending down to peer at the stupid thing. Ah. There was a piece of paper wedged in the metal slats and…
A hand grabbed her shoulder, pushed her to the wall. She pushed back but there was not an ounce of give.
“Woman,” the voice, deep and resonant sounded in her ear. There was the smell of woods and something exotic. “Woman…”
Shivers ran up her spine. No one was here but her. No one but…
Hands reached around her cupping and squeezing her breasts. They were not gentle, and she didn’t want them to be. No wait. She didn’t want. For crying out loud, she was on duty. Her head spun as he pinched her nipples and a moan came from her, her breath catching even as she tried to form a single word. She couldn’t turn her head around enough to see, to catch of glimpse of whomever was pressing her, face first, into the damned wall!
The hands tore her uniform shirt open. Shock held her quiet for a moment. That shirt was made for abuse. Virtually nothing could tear it. Yet he’d just ripped it apart like it was cotton fluff. The hands, cool and smooth, fought with her bra, ripping that off until his skin touched hers. Teeth sank into her neck, making her moan and arch.
No, this wasn’t right wasn’t good wasn’t..shouldn’t be…ohhhh.
His hands fumbled with her pants, but in moments tore them away from her until she was naked, pressed to the wall, large hands roaming over her hot, oh so unbearably hot, skin.
She knew it was coming. She knew he was going to pierce her with his cock, fill her. Knew it and couldn’t stop him. Or.
Wouldn’t stop him.
Wanted. Wanted with a fierceness that was primal. Some force beyond herself drove her to accept what was happening. It was right for him to take her. To fill her with his thick cock. To drive into her body and use her fully.
The sound of panting-hers-filled her ears. He was quiet, murmuring softly against her neck as his engorged penis probed at her pussy lips. She wanted to fight him. She wanted him to fuck her.
His hands weren’t gentle on her skin. His cock wasn’t gentle as it filled her in one hard thrust. Panting and moaning as his hips rocked against her ass, she felt herself pushing back, offering herself. Almost beyond thought, her only consuming desire was to be used, to be filled by whomever was standing behind her. The lights dimmed, then brightened with every deep-filling thrust. Her pussy was pummeled, yet began to ooze and leak as she rose to her first orgasm. As if she liked it. As if she needed it. As if she craved exactly what he was doing to her.
“ooooooOOOOOOHHHHhhhh” she whimpered as her body quaked and shook. He didn’t stop, he just kept fucking her steadily hips hammering back and forth while his hands continued mauling her tits. She knew there would be bruises in the morning. The thought only excited her more. Her head fell back, and he bit her throat, lips and teeth working from the tender joining place at her shoulder, all the way up the line of her neck, until he took her ear between his teeth and shook his head, growling.
Cunt juice flowed from her in a huge wave of release. She felt the spatter of it on the floor, on her legs. She shook her head no, noo000000…but his persistent rhythm didn’t change.
“Oh can’t can’t please…” her breath wheezed, her pussy throbbing with the sensitive aftermath of such a powerful orgasm. Hands grabbed her hair, pushed her down. In moments she found herself on the floor, doglike. His hands grasped her hips now, pulling her hard against his crotch, impaling her over and again on the thick hardness. He showed no sign of coming, no weariness. His hips thrust forward as he pulled her back, doubling the impact of his body into hers. Her belly quivered, the pain deep as he all but punched her uterus with his cockhead.
And she came again, even harder. Her hands slipped until her shoulders rested on the floor, her ass lifted high in the air and taking his swollen shaft even deeper into her belly. In that moment before he stiffened, in the millisecond before he began spurting deep into her womb, she knew, knew, he was impregnating her.
Heat began to fade. His cock left her pussy, still hard, and entered her ass. A scream came from her throat as he pierced her anus with swift brutality.
“Woman,” he said with a sigh, sinking balls deep. She felt the slap of them against her swollen and still dripping cunt. She’d never had a man fuck her ass before. The pain of her stretched rectum warred with the erotic sensations. It hurt. It was painfully weird. It was..
“Oooooogod” she screamed as an orgasm clamped her pussy, her ass, tightly. She felt his cock jerk in response, swore she could feel the hot spray of his semen filling her asshole. The hard shaft left her body with an audible *pop*.
When the Cosmic Alignment ends, things swiftly return to their previous ‘normal’ state. The flowers continue to bloom, the insects continue to hover, but the more extreme reactions begin to fade. Things that have transformed, go back to their prior status. The sudden upsurge of sexual energy is spent, and the participants usually return to their normal activities after a deep, dreamless sleep. All things return to the status quo.
Until the next Alignment.
She stared at the plastic stick in her hand. It matched the 4 other ones on her bathroom counter.
She was pregnant. How the hell could she be pregnant if she wasn’t sleeping with anyone? Some sort of immaculate conception? She vaguely recalled the night that Brad had gone to the hospital as being kind of strange. Of waking up at home and not remembering getting there. Of her pussy and ass aching, and strange marks on her hips and neck. But there was no one at the Museum other than herself, a bunch of paintings on the walls, and a marble statue of Zeus in the center room.
She also remembered that there was some talk about his facial expression having changed. In the past it had seemed that he’d been stoic-faced. But now he seemed to be wearing a faint, nearly smug smile. She allayed it to the artsy-fartsy people who came to museums to do what she mockingly referred to as “deep looking”. Seriously, she thought the art was beautiful and all, but then again, she was just a normal sort of woman. Besides, as far as she could tell, he’d always looked at her like he was smiling, and always just a bit smugly. Not that he was looking at her. He was just looking around the room. The way statues did. Right? Statues did not come to life in the middle of the night and fuck you brainless. And impregnate you. They just didn’t.
She stared at the stick in her hand.
I KNOW! You hate the ending. You want more. You want me to explain. But no! I want YOU to think about it. Puzzle over it. Turn it around in your brain. Seriously. That’s a writers job, to intrigue you into puzzling over a story.
One more piece of back-story. I wrote this the other night. Fully, in one fell swoop, sitting here at my computer until midnight pounding it out. I swear, the story just sizzled through my fingertips. But WordPress had other ideas and refused to save the 2nd half of the story.
You know. The good part. The whole sex scene.
I was So. Fucking. Pissed. It was done, a full 1700 plus word story, and I was so happy it had come out so well in one go. It rarely happens that WP has a glitch so I should be okay with it, but I spent all day fuming over it. I wasn’t going to finish it. I was just going to throw it in the trash and be done with it already. But the story haunted me all day. “Finish me.” So. Sigh. Here I am again, writing…er..re-writing…the sexy part. I like to imagine that her child, a son in the image of his father (ahem) grows up to become an artist himself.