Camilla Pt. 06

To his satisfaction, he heard her cry out in delicious surprise again and again. He steadied her hips and deepened his service to her by licking down to the wet, sour folds of her vulva. Licking, flicking, tickling, and moaning deep vibrations of pleasure into her. She loved it, letting him know by her moans. Pleasing this woman's ass with his mouth was exciting. His tongue teased and dipped deep into her. Her ass clenched and shuddered with the success of her efforts. Her hands groped and grabbed the sides of his head.

Ed could hear her moans and gasps of pleasure rising in intensity among the cries and howls in the hot, sweaty hall. Her screams got higher, more frequent, and more vulnerable and expressive.

She shuddered and quaked, releasing a deep groan as her cum splashed against his face. She collapsed on top of him, folding into a quaking heap across his lap. He fell back against the pillows, his back aching, 'how long had he been doing that?' 'How long had he even been there?'

"Lovely." She said rolling off him like a newborn doe. Her dress was still pulled high, revealing a flat belly and her long, smooth, perfect legs. She lay at the edge of their platform, her red hair and body seeming pale against the deep chocolate tones of the rug. Exhausted and happy amid this surreal moment.

"You pleased me, Ed."

She rolled to her knees, the crown of red a sexy mess around her contented face. "You surprised me... You wonderful sleeper. And that is hard to do."

Ed was too tired, too drugged to do anything but smile. It felt liberating. A confident silence. Not an apology. Not a fumbling utterance. Just him. His balding fat head. His chins. His belly. His face legs. He was.

"Do you want to be," she wrinkled her face mischievously, "surprised?"

"I do."

She reached for the mortar and pestle and held between them. She looked mischievously over the rim of the bowl, he met her bright blue eyes.

She blew the red powder into his face.

The ominous red cloud sprayed against his face. In a reflex, he breathed in, taking a huge swallow of the red powder. He tasted bitter, dry, burnt wood, carbon. He felt the dust invading his nostrils, filling his nostrils and reaching deep into the back of his throat.

He began to panic, what was he doing here? What had he done? What time was it? Who are these people? I'm in danger! I'm in trouble!

"Listen to the music, Ed. It's speaking words only you can understand. Listen. Listen" He felt her hair tickle his face. Her mouth traced his ears. "What can you hear? Listen."

He felt her unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. It was engorged. A massive red rod, bigger and fatter than his forearm. Her hand barely could grip the thick tube as she pulled it out of his pants. She unconsciously said "Oh... Ed."

"Listen closely, Ed." Her voice became firmer. "I love you. Focus on us." He felt the softness of her lips as they slid down from the tip, over the lip of the head, and down the shaft. Her mouth pulled back, leaving a wet, glistening shaft. Her mouth pulled on his cock. Her attention comforted him.

"Enjoy my roses." She said.

Amid the din of cries and music, Ed heard one distinct instrument, a drum. The particular slap of the mallet against the taut animal skin. The vibration of the mallet's impact radiates out, ripples through the skin, and crashes against the brass nails holding the skin to the wood body of the drum.

He felt her slide down over him. Her pubic hair tickles his. Her hands gripped his chest and shoulders. He heard her ragged gasps in his ear as she struggled to fit him into her. Her breath broke and rough through clenched teeth.

Then a guttural whisper. "Oh... God, Ed." She gasped, "you're too much... much too much."

Her fingers laced around his head to steady her. She grunted sloppily as she slid up, and then slowly back down again.

"Ed," she said straining with the work. "Ungh. Where do you go? Where are you going? Ugh. Go. Go. Go. "

Ed let go of worry and fell into a dream. He was in his kitchen again. He was eating his mother's cookies but dunking them into the same opalescent blue milk he had had earlier. It was delicious. He was careful not to drip the milk from the cookie as he ate it.

His mother was there at the sink, her back to him. She was cleaning dishes. The table's white and blue enamel top was cool amid the heat of the summer evening. He drained the cold glass of milk and placed it loudly back on the table. It landed with a loud crash.

Now he was in high school, his locker had closed with the same thunder as the glass on his table. He was in the hallway between Biology and Social Studies classes, waiting for a chance to speak with Grace. His hair was combed. He smelled good. Clean shirt. Clean breath. Her back was to him, talking to her cluster of friends and checking the beginnings of a long career of too much makeup. She didn't notice him. The bell rang, thundering down the hallway.

Now he was in college. At a dorm party, the fire alarm had gone off and someone just smashed it with a hammer. The crowd cheered. Ed was heavier now. He cared less about his hair. His face was carefully unshaven. He was mesmerized, hoping that Tyrah, her long thick braids facing him, would turn and notice him. He ignored the rampant confusion of the party all around him. Even her back was beautiful. That'll do. A boy, from high above and behind him, crashed on a table next to him in a daring dive.

Now he was at his wedding--a modest affair at a church. The pews had a handful of people in them. He was at the altar in a modest suit. She is head-to-toe lace, never facing him.

Sadness and regret sprung from deep inside of him. It bubbled up from deep down, rolling and tumbling pup and exploding into a monumental fountain, the anger, and dissatisfaction, ejecting from him in one thick tube of release.

His body collapsed, he felt boneless. He was lying in deep green clover and tiny white flowers. He felt turned inside out. The ordinary day-to-day pains, the tension from sitting, the tightness in his shoulder, that odd rope of pain in his neck - all gone. He had not noticed he had so many of them until he was free.

"Edward, wake up."

Strina was lounging near him, watching him contentedly. The smell of her, her body was sweet perfume for him. Her breasts were against his chest, her nipples through his shirt. The bitter nice of her thighs, the sour smell of her ass. She was human after all.

The room had lightened - but just a little. A skylight was opened at the far end letting in a shaft of white sunlight. It was distinct and cutting through the retreating smoke of the room. Many beds now were empty. Others had bodies entwined in them, sleeping. The attendants were discretely rolling up rugs in areas where there was no risk of disturbing the other, still occupied beds. She rolled off him, stood, and stretched cat-like. He took in the curves of her breasts, pert nipples, and her fiery mound of pubic hair. The cords of her muscles quivered as she arched.

"We need to go, Ed."

They wiped themselves clean.

She splashed a bit of cologne on him, then on her, winking at him.

Buttoned shirts.

Pulled on dress coats.

The basket was taken away by a sleepy attendant.

They walked down the stairs and out of the hall not seeing another person. The rooms were quiet. The halls were empty.

The sun was so intense, that Ed cringed.

Strina offered a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses and pulled a second pair of huge black ones from her jacket. They were so dark, they looked almost solid.

Then, looking back in the few minutes he had had to recollect. There was a table with coffee cups and small dishes with a few remaining flakes of pastry. A second coffee for Ed. Dark and sweet. She paid in crisp bills.

Strina looked happy across from him, relishing every spoonful of raspberry jelly from the jar. One delicate spoonful after another, savoring each.

If they talked, he didn't remember. His body was a mound of happy flesh.

She offered him a sugary white cube, but no sugar cubes were on the table. "Take this Ed, and get home. You'll probably be tired soon."

"Thank you." He said, popping it into his mouth and drinking the last of the sweet black coffee.

"And ... thank you." What was her name?

"We had pleasure together." Her smile was soft and caring. It changed slightly - an expression like enjoying a flower opening or a firework. He missed that look.

"I should disappear, first," she said.

She kissed her finger and touched the tip of his nose with it. She rose still smiling. A black car was waiting to take her away. Then he was alone.

The city was unusually quiet for a Saturday morning. He finally found a cab that wordlessly took him home. It was a beautiful sunny morning. He felt as if he had been in a dark room all night. The sun felt new to his skin.

Had he left work after being there all night?

No, he had a drink with Kata. But that had been early in the evening, or had it? It didn't matter. He felt happy again. Blissful in fact. He decided to walk the few remaining blocks to his house.

As he walked, the tiredness grew. He remembered a woman with red hair. There was music. A room in the cellar of a bar filled with tables and people listening to a band, but he couldn't place where the band was in the room. He didn't remember if it was a big room - or if he was sitting drinking. What did he have? A milky drink? Was it a grasshopper? It had been years since he had one of those.

He did remember the feeling of emptiness, the feeling that woke him up every day, now being a memory. How disappointed he was that he had always asked for love instead of giving her it. He was disappointed he had blamed others for what he was doing for himself. He had created the gap, he would uncreate it.

But his rebirth would need to begin tomorrow. Now, he had started to sweat. The warmth of the morning began to boil him in his suit. The park he was crossing was open and the sun beat down on him. He was drenched with sweat, the shirt clung to his skin. He lumbered over to a bench and sat down heavily. He needed to cool off and catch his breath. His body ached like he had run there from the city.

And there across the park was Camilla in a portion of the space dedicated to the adult gym set. She was dressed in her cloud-patterned spandex and a tight spandex top. It showed off her broad round ass, thin waist, and petite breasts. He leaned back against the bench and resolved to watch her as he caught his breath.

"Are you ok?" She was there, blocking the sun.

"Yes, I just had a long night."

"You look like you have." She offered him her water bottle. "Take it the whole thing. You look dehydrated. That's high alkaline so it should help you."

"Thank you." The cool water swept over parched, raw surfaces in his mouth. "I owe you a water."

"Oh, don't worry about it - "

"Ed, my name is Ed, you?"

"Camilla."

"Thank you, Camilla." Enough suffering in front of her. He got up. "I'll bring this back to you when I'm done."

The world swam in front of him, causing him to stumble.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Can I walk with you a bit? Make sure you get home? How far are you?"

Ed didn't answer. Silence remember.

"How do you like that workout area, Camilla?"

She scampered up to him, not expecting to have to carry on a conversation. "It's OK. You can do a lot with the little they have there."

"Oh yeah? Are you a gymnast? Sports ... person?"

"Oh no. I just work out there in the morning."

"Yeah, I think I saw you a few times while driving to work." He cringed as that came out - oh well.

"I go there a lot."

"Well, I wasn't keeping a record," he said brusquely. "I'm no perv."

The ground beneath him sank like quicksand. She was talking now, comfortable with however he was presenting himself to trust him enough. He couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. Sweat stung his eyes.

"Wow you have a nice place." She said. They were at the front door. He must have opened the door and let her in. She was looking around his kitchen.

"Thanks, do you mind if I just wash this and give it to you now?"

"Sure."

He walked inside, forgetting the door.

"Are you like - what do you do for work?" she said.

"I'm..." his head swam. What DO I do for work? "A... ah... data analyst."

"A 'data' analyst?" She said. She was creeping shyly deeper into the apartment. His hands fumbled thickly trying to open the water bottle. Finally, the top twisted off.

"Yeah... you know, I analyze - "

The hot water burned his hand.

"I do - data...."

The kitchen floor hit him hard in the face.

"Ed? Ed are you ok?"

It was Kata. She had an ice bag - his ice bag from his freezer. She was looking uncharacteristically concerned.

Behind her, Camilla was looking on.

"What are you doing here, Kata?"

"I was concerned, Ed. Came by a few times. I guess I shouldn't have been?"

"I've only been here for the past ten minutes - " Camilla piped in.

Kata shushed her. "Ed, can you see ok? Seeing double? You got a good bump."
"No, I'm fine." He pushed himself up. "Kata, Camilla. Camilla, Kata. Thanks for coming by - Camilla thanks for walking me here. Kata - I don't think I'm coming in today. I know I said I was going to."

"What does he do for work?" Camilla asked.

"What business is it of yours?" Kata said defensively, obviously growing tired of her presence.

"Kata, did you get much done today? I will finish the rest tomorrow. I think I'll take Saturday to rest."

"Ed, Today is Sunday."

I blinked out again, falling into a darkness. It would prepare me for what I had to do next.