Cold Room (Ali with a Large Member)

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Three forgotten tales to warm even the coldest of nights.
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With thanks to Edmond Rostand's Cyrano, Scheherazade and all the forgotten storytellers who kept her alive for all One Thousand and One Nights.

*****

We had arrived at the cabin around sunset. The trees were cast in a golden light but we could not see the sun setting through the dense canopy. When we opened the door to the living room it was awash in orange that flooded through a giant picture window on the far side of the room. Across the lake and over the trees the sun had almost fallen out of sight.

It wasn't until the colour faded from the room that we realized the cottage was unheated. The old wood stove dormant.

"Dibs!"called out Susan as she ran for the only bedroom with her pack. "I need to get a sweater on, its freezing in here."

I looked at the old cast iron stove and opened it up.

"Shit!" a voice called out from the bedroom.

"What?"

"All my clothes are wet."

"How?"

"I don't care, can you turn the heat on?"

"Not for an hour, this old thing is going to take a little while. Get yourself under the covers or use your sleeping bag, it will still be warm from the car. I call you when things get moving." There was a bit more swearing from the bedroom and then a lamp turned on and quiet.

I warmed the flue and set up a pile of the driest wood I could find. Lighting the kindling, I left the door slightly ajar so that it could fill the now dark room with light and set the kettle on top.

The room was now dark and I lay out my sleeping bag and pushed the couch up against the picture window so I could look up to the moon and stars. The light from the bedroom went out and I heard a shuffle, Susan came to do the bedroom door. The soft moonlight fell on her naked body as she paused, realizing that I was staring at her.

Her face was lost in the shadow of her hair, shoulders standing broad and tall, her perfectly shaped breasts undulated in and out of the moonlight as she breathed heavily. Her nipples all but dark shadows. Her hips gently swayed absorbing the blue light and letting it slowly illuminate the sides of her legs.

"Move!"she quipped at me. I sat up and walked over to the fire. She ran across the room with three heavy footfalls and leaped onto the couch, hopping into my sleeping bag, pulling it up over her.

I walked to the stove and checked on the kettle which had still yet to stir. I moved it to the front plate and it hissed a little. My throat started to tingle, my senses opening up. The back of my mouth grew light and the feeling moved back along my jaw, down my neck and spread out across my neck and shoulders. My heart slowed a little and I sat down in the darkness listening to her breathe. She said nothing and everything, watching my silhouette in front of the faint orange glow emanating from the fire.

When the kettle whistled, I poured the water water into an old rubber hot water bottle that hung on the wall and sealed it up while quietly pondering this turn of events. Sometimes, as they are prone to saying, things are not as they seem. I stepped forward slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness as I moved away from the fire and into moonlight.

She pulled the drawstring of my sleeping sack fully tight. I could see her rust coloured hair, her nose and her cheeks protruding from the opening."Don't get any ideas Mister!"

"Here Susan, I was going to take this in for you but since you are here, voila."

"What is it?"

"A hot water bottle."

"What do I do with it?"

"Put it all the way down at the bottom of your sack or in ten minutes you will be sweating and that will just make things worse."

"Thank you."

She was shivering cold, and as I past the hot water bottle to her, her skin felt like ice. I reached over for two heavy wool blankets from the cabinet beside the couch, laying one atop her and the other over me.

"Just so you know, just because I am naked in here, doesn't mean you are getting any."

"Perish the thought, I have no interest in joining the ranks of the wives of King Shahryar.

"Who?"

"The Henry the Eighth of the Far East. Only instead of six merry wives, her married every woman in the kingdom, just for one night and in the morning had them beheaded, because he decided never to lay his trust in the arms of a woman again."

"Are you saying I don't trust men? "

"No, I would not dare, but like King Shahryar, you will never let them get close enough to you. Each morning he dispatches with his new wife, then goes to find another."

"Ahh, understandable but why does the King take such a hard stance against women?"

"Because once he had a Queen, whom he loved but when he left the castle she called all her lovers near and had a free for all. To which, the King returned early from his hunt and found the festivities raging, responded with an extreme rage."

She was still shivering and more worrisome, she was having trouble responding.

"Right," I said as I stood up, "This is getting a bit much, the longer your core temperature stays down, the more likely bad things are going to happen."

"What are you doing? You are not allowed to come in here."

"I wouldn't think of it, we had a deal." Moving between the wall and the back of the couch, I pushed it closer to the stove, five feet would be the perfect balance between warmth and not melting the sleeping sack or the couch. "Better?"

Without lifting her head from the sac she said, "no. Still freezing, down into my bones."

"What happened?"

"I don't know, all my clothes are soaking, I hopped into bed and just started to freeze. I couldn't get warm."

"We'll warm up soon enough, take this blanket for a minute. Let me go take a look at your pack." True enough, her whole pack was damp, at the bottom, a cheap water bottle had blown its top. Stupid, stupid. I picked up everything and slung up the clothes on the back of chairs and on the floor around the stove in the living room.

"What are you doing with my stuff?"

"A water bottle at the bottom of your sack exploded. No wonder you are freezing, hypothermia is a serious thing. I am assuming there is nothing precious in this lot?"

She shook her head.

"I'll put it up to dry by the fire, most of it should be good by midnight. I will stay up and keep an eye on everything while you stay in my sack. I am assuming this blankets will be my litter for the night."

"Well there is no room for you in here."

"As you wish your majesty." I rubbed her legs to get the circulation going but stopped before the waist. "Did I tell that there was woman in the Kingdom who lived by soothing the savage beast with a thousand nights of stories?"

"Oh god, no stories."

"Actually a story or two would do you good. You need something to really heat you up from the inside. Did I mention that I am writing a book to go along with those illustrations you saw the other morning?"

"Can't remember."

"Ah but I am, and now sitting here thinking of King Shahryar and the woman who tamed him, Scheherazade was greatest storyteller of all time, perhaps we can find you a good old story to warm you up."

"Less talk more action, please."

"Alright," jokingly I pretended to unbutton my jacket.

"Not that kind of action, let's hear a story, but I am warning you, if I don't like what I am hearing, off with your head!"

"Can I make it more interesting? After all Scheherazade did have some motivation."

"Again, no sex."

"No, if I manage to warm you inside and out, would you answer a question for me?"

"What question?"

"I am still composing the idea of it in my head. Deal?"

"Maybe, let's hear these stories and then I will decide."

"Alright, when I was young, much younger than you my good King Susan, there was a house in my quarter where two women lived. The first who rose in the morning always pleasant and smiling, the other woman, a perfumer of great note woke up in tears and vexation.

"One day the happy woman visited her neighbour to procure her services. "I have been blessed with much happiness year after year and yet I cannot bear to enter another winter without the smell of my rose garden following me morning, noon and night."

"Absence," said the perfumer,"sharpens the mind and warms the heart."

"I have no want, I live in a great happiness, my bed is warmed with bliss and when my husband and I are together in it, the sheets testify to the supreme pleasure of our kisses and embraces, of our joys and amorous sighs. When he is inside of me, it stops me completely, touching me from top to bottom and he does not take leave until he has visited every part of me. When his crisis arrives, then he takes position right in the heart of me and floods me with its tears. My fire quenched, our passion appeased, we fall into deep sleeps and in the morning I awake with the smell of my roses to embrace me."

"The perfumer sighed and sat quietly over her tea.

"What troubles you neighbour?"

"The perfumer looked up at her neighbour with tears in her eyes, "I live in the greatest of grief; our bed is one of misery, and our unions are fatigued and troubled. I gain no pleasure from him and his feeble service that could give no woman pleasure. That is why I too divine joy from what flowers have to offer. They surround me and comfort me."

"The neighbour reached towards her with gentle hand, "I am here too, to comfort you."

"And I will make you a tea as a thank you, bring me every third rosebud that pauses on the cusp of opening. I will dry them for you and make a tea, sweetened with these rocks of raw sugar. Use it only when the memory fades and you are in need of your roses."

"And so it came to be that the neighbours shared tea time together in the perfumer's shop, to which the blissfulness of the neighbour brought new joy to the flowered walls and new customers. The perfumer took every opportunity to delve deeper into the mysterious powers hidden in those stamens and stigmas looking for an answer to her sorrow. While distracted with experiments, her neighbour tended to the customers and with more success came the opportunity to procure rarer and rarer flowers. But, alas there is only so much joy one can take in the light of misery. Soon the perfumer started to imagine herself in the bed of roses. Her heart dreamt of how wonderful it would be to spend each night in her friend's husband's embrace. The thought would overwhelm her until she could function no more. It must be, she thought, if only for one night to satisfy my craving.

"The opportunity arose quite by accident with the arrival from the west of tiny purple flowers. The merchant told her of desserts and the soft gentle scent which women loved and he absolutely hated, it always gave him fitful nights of sleep. The perfurmer infused them into water and tested it on her neighbour's clothes. As the day went on, she fell into a deep lull and asked instead of tea for a coffee to be brought from the shop on the corner, thick and sweet.

"It was true magic this little flower, it had the power to enchant one sex and annoy the other. And so a plan grew deep inside her heart, she only needed enough for a small dose. In the evening she made preparation to let her project take wing. "A mixture for the bed sheets, to compliment the bliss you two enjoy," she told her neighbour.

"When the night had advanced to about a third of its duration, she scented herself in a special tincture for lovers. She then crept noiselessly to the chamber in which her neighbour and husband slept, groping her way onto their bed. Finding that there was a free space between them, she slipped in. There was scant room, but each of the spouses thought it was the pressure of the other and gave way a little. She then quietly waited until the other woman was in a profound sleep, and then, approaching the husband, she brought her flesh in contact with his. He was scarcely asleep and smelling the perfumed odours which she exhaled, he was in erection at once. He drew her towards him, but she said in a low voice, "Let me go to sleep!" He answered, "Be quiet, and let me do! The children will not hear anything!"

"She then pressed close up to him, so as to get him farther away from his wife, and said, "Do as you like, but do not wake the children, who are close by." She took these precautions for fear that his wife should wake up.

"The man, however, roused by the odour of the perfumes, drew her ardently towards himself. She was plump and mellow, and her vulva projecting. He mounted upon her and said, "Take it into your hand, as usual!" She took it, and was astonished at its size and magnificence, then introduced it into her vulva. The man, however, observed that his member had been taken in entirely, which he had never been able to do with his wife. The woman, on her part, found that she had never received such a benefit from her husband.

"The man quite surprised. He worked his will upon her a second and third time, but his astonishment only increased. At last he got off her, and stretched himself alongside her. As soon as the woman found that he was asleep, she slipped out, left the chamber, and returned to her own. In the morning, the husband, on rising, said to his wife, "Your embraces have never seemed so sweet to me as last night, and I never breathed such sweet perfumes as those you exhaled."

"Thank you, it is a special creation from our neighbour downstairs, from a rare flower that only I have the pleasure of testing" said the wife. They embraced.

"The perfumer awoke downstairs from the most divine of sleeps. All of her stresses gone, she sat in bed embracing the smell of lavender and rose."

"Bitch!" Susan had a bit more life in her now.

"I take that as a sign of approval."

"Alright, one story down."

"Let me just grab another log for the fire and compose my second story."

A wave of heat came from the stove and we both soaked it up. Susan's shoulders now protruded from the sleeping bag and her arm was out supporting her head. I enjoyed seeing at the way her cleavage dropped under the edge of the blanket as I returned to my place beside the couch.

"Let's see, where to begin, there was a big surprise for our perfumer a few months later. She found that she was with child."

"Ha!" exclaimed Susan.

"Ali was born in the early spring and much to the shock of her and her husband, even from the moment he arrived his endowment was of wonder to everyone, including the attending doctor and nurses. They had never seen anything like it.

"As much as Ali's mother tried to raise her son into the art of perfumery, Ali's father rejoicing in his generous gift proudly took him away from his studies to parade him at every opportunity. Being the subject of constant attention, Ali himself grew up to be nothing more than a braggart and a scallion, to be known far and wide as Ali with the Big Member. Ready to show off the goods at even the subtle hint of interest and win any bet, proving that there was no one who could best him.

"One night, in the part of town where Ali tended the bar of a hotel in the tourist quarter where no self respecting member of town would be seen, he was once again looking for an opportunity. The target of his attention was a young woman who had walked in to the hotel on the arms of a grey haired man in an impeccable suit. She towered over him by a good foot and her dress layered in light blue see through scarves danced around her body as she turned to sit down.

"Why are you with that old man? Come with me and I will show you all the pleasure that can be had," Ali called to her.

"She did not even give him a turn. Looking to stir the pot of this beauty he tried every method of attracting her attention he could muster but to no avail. Sensing the night growing late, he was left with but one big play. He straightened himself up and pushed out his chest as he passed her another Negroni, "It's really big."

"She turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he looked at her confidently and repeated "Yes, it is the biggest."

"It?" she asked all too well knowing to what he was referring to.

"Yes, it. The biggest, the widest and the wildest of all the towns around."

"Really, that's all you've got? Your list is coming up a little short."

"Short? Never, let me show you."

"No its okay,"she said turning away and laughing, "I will just wait for my escort."

"And turn down a chance for the biggest night of your life with the famous Ali with the Big Member?"

"Really? You have taken the trouble to name it? It sounds to me like all of your supposed endowments live below the belt line."

"What? I do not boast, it is truly big."

"No, if you were to boast, you could have said a hundred things more interesting, by varying the tone.Something that would even trigger the slightest twinge of interest in my sex organ," she said as she pointed to her head.

"I will give you a thousand and one twinges of delight."

"The only delight I would have is if you left me in peace." Sensing that her pursuer would not give up the chase so easily, she came upon an idea. "Perhaps, a bet, if you win, I will go with you and give you a night of pleasure they will sing songs about, if I win, you will never ever speak to me or any other woman of that thing you so awfully advertise.

"The music went softer and patrons gathered around the bar waiting to see if Ali would take the bet. He paused for a minute and stared at the woman from head to toe.

"It looks like you could live up to your promise, what shall the bet be over, me?"

"Another witty rejoinder, give me two minutes and I shall out boast you twenty times over. If I fail, you win." She leaned over the bar as she said it, giving Ali a perfect view to distraction down through the translucent scarves. He was powerless to disagree.

"To make it more interesting, "she said as she moved to the centre of the crowd, "I will let these fine people call out the topics for my boasts. Give me a second to compose myself properly, and you may start your watch."

"The young lady stood back and did a little twirl of her dress, waiting until the pleat of her skirt fell silent again. She blew a kiss to her lover who had returned to the hotel bar and cleared her throat. "Audience please shout out the topics and I will respond. Kind manager, if you could time me, you in the tan suit, you have first choice."

"Geographic," the man in the tan suit started and the crowd cheered."

"She smiled and started "Tis Gibraltar? 'Tis the Cape of Good Hope? Nae, 'tis the grandest of peninsular forms!"

"Gracious,'" called out another.

"Look I how I love the birds, see what a perch I have built for them"

"Engineering!"

"If the French and English had studied my architecture, the channel would have long since been bridged and the great island and Europe united"

"Aggressive!"

"Madame, please step away, in my dismount my perch and I fear for the preservation of your womanhood."

"Military!"

"I was turned away from the Artillery Corps, they were jealous of my calibre."

"Gentlemanly!" There was a slight boo from the women of the crowd.

She took the mocking stance of a man and responded, "Please Madame, you look lost, let me generously point the way for you."

"Romantic" suggested a lady dressed in red.

"Mademoiselle, would you please permit me the chance to take you on a ride to the heavens and back?"

"Practical!"

"Here you can find a place to hang your hat and cloak."

"Dramatic!"

"Oh when it bleeds, the Red Sea!"

"Poetic!"

"No wind, O majestic organ, can give thee a cold!-save when the mistral blows!"

"Commercial!"

"No better sign exists in the world of business to advertise a shop of earthly pleasures!"

"Lyrical!"

"Is this a conch?. . .a Triton you?"

"Cordial!"

"Come, let me tell you when the monument is on view."

"Rustic!"

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