04 - Love Down Under

First times: 04 -- Love down under

I got the idea for this short story from a lovely lady who introduced me to Haiku poetry. To my immense surprise, I found that I like it and have a minimal talent for it.
     The poem at the end is hers. Thank you, dear heart.
     She's the inspiration for the story as her poem was the starting point. Where I went with it is the product of my own devious mind with no intent to offend.
     My editor, Valphund, is a tireless man. I can never thank him enough.

*****

I sit on the couch, widower to Haiku poetry. I love that she works with her laptop on her... lap. She could be one of those who seek isolation. Instead, she says she needs to feel life around her.

Once in a while, she'll look up and smile at me. My heart soars each time, even if I know very well her mind is elsewhere, in her private world of words.

I don't understand it. It sounds like pure gibberish to me. So I'm a simple truck driver, but she chose me over her artsy friends. She says I inspire her, that I'm her muse. What do you know? I'm a Greek goddess. What? I looked it up. I'm no ignoramus. (I looked that one up too when a jerk in her writing group called me one. I wanted to know why I was punching his lights out.)

We are good together, my girl and me.

*****

We met at the park ten years ago. I love to go there in the early evening to feed the ducks. I don't get to connect with Nature much in my line of work, except to run over Her children.

There I was, bag of bread crumbs in hand, feeding my quacking little friends, laughing at their antics. I try to throw the bits so they all get some, but there are bullies in birds too. Some gulls tried to crowd in, but a big male chased them away. Good for him.

When I arrived, I happened to notice this woman sitting at the base of a tree, her back to the pond. 'What's that about?' I thought. 'Why come to the pond and look away. That's daft.'

That's what got me curious. I'd have checked her out if she'd been a babe. I am a man, after all. But she was just a plain chick, an ordinary, real life woman, not one of those who primp themselves all sexy to go sit in the park to watch the birds. She wore a simple white cotton top, you know, the ample kind that looks comfortable. Her flowing skirt was colorful, in a bright flower pattern. There was a pair of simple leather sandals beside her. From where I sat, she didn't seem to be wearing make-up, and her long curly dirty blonde hair was loose over her shoulders. Did I mention that she wore her top off them? I find that very sexy. Always have.

She had a notebook on her lap. A book I would have understood, but what could she be writing about out there?

The look of intense concentration on her face was a sight. Then she'd look up and smile at nothing. It was like a kind of inner beauty shone through and erased the creases, wrinkles and crow's feet of a hard life, replacing them with laugh lines.

Once or twice, I saw her wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. It must be some serious writing she was doing.

After I emptied my bag of treats and the birds abandoned me, I sat there for a while, watching her, trying to imagine what her life was like. It's a game I play on the long road to while away the endless miles. I came up blank on that. It seemed like a silly thing to do to her. I wanted to know who she really was.

Don't get me wrong, she was a sight for sore eyes, with her slim body, smallish tits, full pouty lips, but I like my women full bodied with something to grab onto while we do the horizontal mambo, the vertical tango, hell, even the sitting samba.

Still, I surprised myself by walking over on my way out of the park.

"Whatcha writing about, ma'am?" I asked politely.

She looked up at me. She was even smaller up close; she couldn't be more than five-four. I don't know what she saw (she never told me) as she stared for a long moment, but she gave me one of those smiles I had seen before. It touched something deep inside me.

"I'm writing poetry." Her voice was so sweet, it was like honey for the ears. "I volunteer at a home for people dying of AIDS. A friend of mine is in terminal phase and I wanted to give him something to ease his mind"

"Are you one of those LGBT people we hear about? You know... a lesbo?" Whatever possessed me to ask such a stupid, insensitive question? If I could, I would have kicked my own ass.

To my amazement, she laughed. It was like listening to crystal tinkle.

"Not at all." She said. "The proper word is lesbian, and, no, I'm not. I've only been friends with people in the LGBT community all my life. Some of them are jerks and some of them are truly beautiful people. Most fall somewhere in between, like in every other group of people."

Poetry? The little I know about it was a bunch of crap, but I wanted to know more about her.

"So you came here to find peace and quiet to work on this stuff?" I shuffled my feet. Part of me knew I was probably bothering her. Another part wanted to stay and talk to her. "I should go." I mumbled. I sounded unconvincing, even to myself.

There was that smile again as she patted the ground beside her.

"Why don't you join me for a while? Maybe you can help. I'm stumped."

I must have looked like a fool almost throwing myself to the ground. Still, I got the feeling she was laughing with me instead of at me.

"There, look at the sunset." She pointed at the sky. Ah! That was why she was facing that way. "Do you see the colors? Red is dominant this evening, but I'm trying to come up with a three syllable word for it."

"Whatever for?" I asked. That was nuts. "If you write poetry, shouldn't it be a word that rhymes with another one?" Damn, she had a beautiful laugh.

"It's not that kind of poetry. I write in Haiku." She explained patiently. "A stanza, or verse, is composed of three lines. The first one has five syllables, the second seven and the third five again."

"That sounds like an awfully complicated way to describe a sunset. Red... I know ochre, like the earth, crimson, they call blood that in books, or ruby, like..."

"That's it! You're a genius, Bruce."

I would have remarked that my name was Mark, but she had lunged at me, and was kissing me, so I opened my mouth for a different reason.

I'm usually the aggressive type when it comes to sex. Holding this small woman, kissing her, I wanted to... I don't know, but it wasn't a wild fuck. I instinctively followed her lead. To my surprise, I liked sweet and gentle well enough. She's the one who reached into my mouth with her tongue after licking my lips. Then she teased my tongue into her own mouth. We played like that for the longest time. She'd take a nip at my lips, then suck my tongue like it was my cock. It was sexy as hell.

And I was just holding her in my arms. Okay, I was pulling her close so I could feel her tits on me, but that's it. She's the one who put my hand on one. I found that I liked having it fit in my hand, with only a little extra. It was so different from big melons you can only grab onto.

I experimented a bit. I squeezed a little. I didn't want to hurt her. She looked so fragile.

"You can fondle my boobs better than that, can't you, Bruce?" She chuckled. "I'm not made of porcelain. There, let me show you."

Cheezuz kryse! And there I was trying to go easy. The girl liked it hard. Well, hard I'd give her.

I pulled her over so she straddled my legs and I could use both hands to get at her. Which I did. I reached under her top to grab her tits. She wasn't wearing a bra. I guess she didn't need one. I fondled her for all she was worth, pinching her nips. She liked it when I pulled them hard and twisted. She couldn't talk much because our mouths were busy together, but she showed she enjoyed it by grinding on my hard cock. She was getting herself off on me... And us in the middle of a public park. It's a good thing we were the only ones there, I hoped, but I didn't give much of a damn by then.

She got even wilder when I put my hands on her legs, under the skirt which had ridden up. I grabbed her ass to pull her even closer, if that was possible, against me. She had one of those strings kinda thing. I was holding her naked ass in my hands, wishing I could take her proper.

I was close myself when she arched her back and shook all over. Kryse she was loud. Surely the coppers would show up to take us in for indecent behavior, or something.

She collapsed on me, all sweaty and out of breath.

"Thanks, Bruce, I needed that." She panted. "Now, let's see about you."

She reached between us and undid my jeans. She got up a bit and told me to lift my arse off the grass. When I did, she pulled my pants down, my BVDs too. She actually cooed when she saw little Joey standing tall and proud. She grabbed it for a couple of squeezes and gentle tugs, then she scooted down my legs so she could lean down and kiss it. The things that woman could do with her mouth and tongue, I tell you. At one point, she angled it right and took it down her throat. I shit you not. I'd only seen it done in porn videos. She played with my balls all along. She even licked them and took them in her mouth. Talk about a hot chick.

She made it last too. Every once in a while, when she felt my cock throbbing more urgently, I guess, she pulled away and squeezed at the base with two fingers. I bet she wished I was wearing a cock ring.

She reached under me, but couldn't get far, what with me sitting. I wondered about that. I'd heard about that ass sex thing, but wasn't it a woman schtick? Hell, if she wanted to put a finger up my butt, I'd sure give it a try.

After taking me so close, so often, my balls were starting to hurt, so I begged her to let me come. She gave me that loving smile again, but there was a bit of the wicked in it too.

Still holding little Joey tight, she lifted her skirt and came forward. She pulled the front up to push her panties aside. I got a brief look at her shaved pussy with a small patch of hair above it before she took me in.

Cheezuz H Kryse, she was tight! I soon found out how and why. She used her cunt muscles to stroke me. It was even better than her mouth.

With her skirt spread around her legs and over me, she looked like as if she were only kneeling on me. I knew better. She was fucking me and fucking me good. I put both hands under her top and made her feel good too, just like she'd shown me earlier. She lunged at me again. (She's still a lunger, all that time later.) She kissed me hard and deep. No more finesse. This was straight, up and down, good old fashioned fucking.

Soon, she was bucking all over the place, riding me like a wild bronco. I had to hold on to her ass to keep her sheathed. I did my fair share of humping, let me tell you.

I don't know how long it lasted. It felt like forever, it was so good, but I know it must have been only a couple of minutes.

The moment she felt my jizz well up little Joey and into her cunt, she came again. I grabbed her neck, this time, so she could scream in my mouth instead of announcing her come to the whole neighborhood. And she didn't stop there. She continued her mad ride on my dick. Somehow, I stayed hard. I guess she didn't give me time to go soft.

We were laughing ourselves crazy by the time we both got off again. This time, I joined her and roared as loud as I could.

As we lay on the ground, catching our breath and simply enjoying holding each other, I got a weird thought.

"What was it that set you off? You said I was a genius, then you jumped me. I'm not complaining, mind you. Just curious."

"When you said 'ruby', it made me think of 'rubicond'. It's the French way to say 'rubicund'. It's perfect, you see. It's the word used to describe a red sky. It's also used when someone is red in the face. And it has three syllables. You are a genius, Bruce."

"Are you going to jump me again, baby? 'Cause, twice in a row is pretty much my limit. By the way, my name is..."

"Mark. I know. Mine is Jamie."

"Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you. I've seen you around for a while. One of my friends told me about you and it got me curious."

"In a good way, I hope."

"Oh yes! She said you were a good and considerate lover, for a wanker. She said you're a good bloke too. She would have made a grab at you, but I'm sure her husband wouldn't have appreciated it."

"Who's that? I don't do married women."

"She never told you she was. She was a bit sloshed at the bar one night and she liked the way you looked. You two had fun in a stall in the loo. She only saw you again twice after that, and she said you were as good sober in a bed as soused sitting on the crapper."

"So you wanted to try me."

"No, in fact. Only, I kept seeing you around, so I asked about you. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I've been putting myself in your way for weeks now. This was my last try before I showed up at your door and ripped the clothes off your back."

"You're a wild one, aren't you?"

"Not at all, that's just it, but you got me all hot and bothered when you wouldn't even notice me, let alone fuck me."

"And now that I have?" I guess I couldn't keep the disappointment that I was only a curiosity fuck to her out of my voice because she pulled me to her and kissed me straight.

"Now that I have you, I keep you, Bruce."

*****

I can see that my little poet is stuck. I snicker under my breath. If I play my cards right, I might just get to be her muse tonight.

I walk behind her and kiss the top of her head as I massage her tense shoulders. Out of curiosity, I look at what's on her screen.

Bamboo waterfall
Peaceful sounds on stones it flows
Closed eyes, restful sleep

Ringing of brass gong
Early morning wakeup call
Meditation now

Walking on the path
Pick a gum leaf crush and smell
Hold it in my hand

Warm sun on my face
Sitting quietly on log
Birds songs serenade

I somehow manage to keep from laughing out loud. Over the years, I've seen worse. I remember her twenty verse poem on a rock, a round, polished stone. She has the craziest ideas sometimes.

"Did you have anything particular in mind, honey?" I recognize the playful tone. I feel like pumping my fist in the air.

"I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to spark your inspiration. That's what a muse does, isn't it?"

"Come around here, you horny dog. Your bitch is in heat too."

I just love being a Greek goddess.