Story Press: The Fallen Fantasy by William C. Raustler

Silent he sits upon the clock tower watching her gather her belongings as she shuffles within her tattered old purse looking for her keys. The grass is yet dewed from the morn. The sky still setting, not yet full of the sun. Nor would it matter, he has no care for the myth of the daylight. It never once hurt him, although his disciples are too weak to use sight in a single moment within these violent rays of unforgiving shine. She stands there with a tired look upon her face, not fully awake yet as she looks at her watch and shakes the purse. Her keys jingle as they roll around in there somewhere.

Finally her fingers fumble across the cold metal of the keychain. Turning the lock, as she pulls the door back a massive wind blows through her hair as if she were taken by a storm. She slowly stretches before she is about to enter the vehicle. Both arms out to each side, she closes her eyes feeling the strong warm gush of wind fondle her body. As she leans towards the breeze she starts to feel as if it is holding her, ever so tightly. She feels as if it would never let her fall. She felt, safe.

The sensation brushes harder against her skin leaving chills across her sides, yet an abrupt flattery makes her exhale aloud. She feels as if two strong hands are wisping parallel within the strokes of the wind against her chest. Almost as if it were a slight taunt across her unyielding breasts. Her eyes open; she has levitated two foot from the ground. As she breathes in a startled gasp her feet touch back to the concrete. Wind is be stilled, yet she feels the stroke of a finger tip lightly caress her lower back. Quickly she turns to see him standing there as he steps towards her pressing her against the steel frame of the car.

With one nail he lightly scratches down her milk white neck provoking a droplet of blood. She stands silently quivering. With his tongue he gently touches against her collar bone catching the fall of fluid. Reaching one hand behind her head to tilt it back he presses hard against her body. She whimpers as he licks closer to the wound with a tear rippling down her cheek bone onto his nose. She clinches both hands behind his waist as she feels the bulge surpass his apparel and thicken between her thighs as he releases a deep breath that fills the air with the sounds of his animalistic grunt. Her emaciated dress is now moistened with passion. As he presses deeper she moans holding tightly upon the muscles within his biceps. His lips compress her wound as his fingers run slightly through her hair. Her eyes closed, another whimper is released. She starts to frolic around his thumb as it is pressed against her thin lips. Eyes still closed, a deeper moan is released after a deviant inward sigh. She grasps his hand, pulling his thumb into her jaw as she flexes her lips to fit deeply the circumference. She feels him inside of her as she gasps for air, feeling the pounding between her thighs offsetting her heartbeat that she now feels also throbbing through her neck. Her right ear lobe becomes warmed with dampness as she feels his mouth cover it and a soft breathing trembles her flesh leaving her hollow and wanting much more. She starts to pull harder toward him, gritting her teeth as her mind is locked in on his hard plunge-full thrusts.

It all stops as fast as it started. Opening her eyes there is nothing, not a sound nor a touch to be found. She looks to the empty streets and to the sky. No one around. She looks to the pavement where she dropped her keys and picks them up as she closes her shirt back up. Sitting in her seat she lowers the mirror to look at her neck. Nothing there as either. Her body trembles with ardor as she closes the door. She reaches between her thighs to feel herself being moist now, more than she could recall being in some time. Smiling, she starts the car to begin her day. With one last sigh, she knows he will always be there somewhere.

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This was something written about ten years ago but I felt it might have a home here on BTC. A little naughty, but hey… who isn’t?