Think Tank

Then followed a merger of sorts, as Chaha suddenly shared vividly her excitement at feeling the whole of his sex around her lips and along her tongue... Allan almost felt as if he was sucking himself and was startled and disoriented. The moment was short-lived, however, and he could focus once again on her clit; this time, as he had buried his face in her folds, her clit was completely in his mouth and his nose was being showered by her copious and sweet seminal fluids.

So focused was Allan on his cunnilingus that he failed the notice the battle of will taking place within Chaha. She was seeing a different Allan, younger, pudgy, without wear and tear; and, although she was feeling his glans jammed in her throat, her eyes were seeing another face: round, chubby and freckled cheeks, long and curly red hair, an open mouth devouring his sex and engulfing it right down to his balls, under a visible trickle of drool from her nose; all this, to the sound of blaring guitar riffs.

- Never had a woman

- Never had a woman like you

- Doin' all the things

- Doin' all the things you do

Chaha was just as disoriented as Allan had been, as she could also feel her throat refusing the passage of his shaft; her gag reflex took hold of her completely. Now, she was coughing and she was choking.

Allan swiftly pulled out and, worried, offered her solace. "Chaha... are you OK? Do you want a glass of water?" He was now sitting beside her in bed and held her for support. As soon as he touched her, Chaha's senses were assaulted once anew. The redhead was wrapping her massive knockers around Allan's pecker and, while cuddling the shaft with her soft welcoming mounds, she was eating up his glans and sucked on it as if attempting to produce a vacuum. And that blaring music again...

- You're a whole lotta woman

- A whole lotta woman

- Whole lotta Rosie

Chaha was furious and felt as if her own mind had issued her a challenge. "I will be fine, Allan... and I swear I will get better with my throat... just like... ooooh, fuck it! Allan, let me make you cum!!!"

She kneeled on the side of the bed, near Allan's crotch. Before he could make sense of the previous minute, Chaha grabbed Allan's dick and slapped its rigid glans on her breasts, then rubbed her nipples with it. Allan was completely overwhelmed. "Hou! Baby! Your breasts are so spectacular! God! You're so amazing! AaaRRGH!!!" She had now bridged her pert mounds together, with both her hands, and his member was now tightly sleeved inside her cleavage. She lowered herself, both to tit-fuck her hero and to bring his shiny glans to her mouth.

"Oh God! Yes, baby! Like that!!! So GOOODDD! Make me cummm! I love it! I love youuuUUU!" She cheered inwardly: she had won. No more Rosie, only powerful waves of ecstasy stemming from Allan and the taste of his pre-cum all over her tongue and her mouth. She began a steady motion with her fleshy canyon and she kept sucking his glans, while drooling all over his shaft for lubrication and stimulation.

Chaha was still incensed by her experience and would leave nothing to chance. Allan was so out of his mind - literally - that reading him was effortless and she used his own arousal against him: if he secretly wished her tongue to go further, her lips to press harder, her breasts to pump slower, no matter what... she delivered instantly. It was so uncanny, Allan felt like he was overseeing her ministrations.

He was laughing in disbelief, screaming his gratitude, moaning incoherently, thanking her and spurring her on at the same time. His arms were now flapping on the bed and his legs were shaking. Chaha felt, with delight, a new challenge for her, as Allan now tried to relax and hold back his impending orgasm.

(Nooo, baby! You can't get awaaay... and your cum is MINE!!!)

She was exact in the precision of her sexual act and merciless. She grunted her triumph loudly inside her mouth, she pumped his shaft with an extra zest and she clenched her lips on his drenched glans. "YEAAAAAAMYGGGGODDD!!!" Then, silence; Allan's self-control had been trampled over and completely obliterated; Chaha was swallowing gush after gush of semen while milking his shaft and balls dry with her hands.

Allan was trying to regain his composure but Chaha's gaze was still burning with so much lust that he remained excited and febrile. She crawled on top of him, on all fours like a feline; she opened her mouth to showcase a sample of his seed on her tongue and kept on going until she kissed him to share their passion once more. Allan, amazed, took it all with loving glee.

But he was unsettled to see her after their kiss. "Chaha, sweetheart... that was really... out of this world... you truly are a Goddess of love... I... is something wrong?" Allan was in the process of returning to her clitoris but he had stopped dead in his tracks.

"Yes, Allan... well, I mean, no... it was amazing but... huh... Allan, did you think of Rosie while we were... you know..."

Allan felt a shock just as if he had been slapped. "Chaha, my wife has been dead for more than 23 years and I admit I will have to talk to her, later, about us and all this but, darling, right now, we are the only two persons in the universe. I don't pretend to understand what just happened to you but... why on Earth would you sell yourself so short? I mean, don't you realize how truly out-of-this-world you are? Did I do something to make you feel cheap... or a mere stand-in?"

She rushed back in his arms, distressed. She knew he had just been 100% truthful and she now felt awful about her reaction. "No! No no NO!!! It's all on me, baby! You were so great! I'm sorry! I'm ruining this for us! I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." she was hugging him with all her strength now, and repeating her apologies.

Allan sat up, his eyes in constant loving contact with hers. "Chaha, baby, please stop beating yourself up... you did not ruin anything... in fact you have given me my first taste of true felicity in more than two decades. I know it's corny but... we were one... to me, it's a miracle! To look at you, in all your magnificence, to... all this... with YOU... Chaha, I will worship you forever!"

But she answered as if she hadn't heard him at all. "You still talk to her?"

Allan, not knowing what to do, but knowing nothing can be hidden from his beloved, answered earnestly. "Yes I do. All four of them. They all share the same columbarium. I visit and I chit chat... all of them... you know, to be polite... but mostly with Rosie."

"Does it help?"

"In the beginning, it was always this enthralling experience, as if you are bridging your soul to their afterlife... and you are always convinced that you feel something in return. Later on, as you realize that you are going out of habit, you feel stupid and foolish to instill all of their life, their glory, their beauty, their foibles, the mystery of all that might have been... to piles of inert ashes. With some more time and wisdom, you accept that it's all you have left and you don't care... so yes, I will go through the motion of walking up to her and tell her all about the angel that brought back love into my heart and into my life."

"That's so beautiful... like all the rest of you... but... Allan, I have to go!"

"Go where?"

"Anywhere... far from you." She tried to tell him gently, but she felt miserable at seeing him instantly floored. "It's not you, Allan, it's me... and I know I sound like an immature teen... and I'm sorry... but that's what I am! I SAW HER, Allan! I didn't expect this! It was so perfect to be one with you... but I'm losing myself! I mean... I'm not even sure if I really love you anymore or if you love me so much that it projects in me! Allan, I'm so sssorrryyyyy!!!"

By now, she was sobbing all over her shattered lover. "Don't you see? I keep reading you! I know how crushed you are! I've broken your heart!!! It will never stop!!! You saved my life, gave me everything, shared all... and I... I'm this horrible person!!!"

Allan had to end this, swiftly. "Chaha, stop this!!! You are not horrible! Quite the opposite! Now, I don't understand it all... but I understand enough. Please get dressed. I will go upstairs to call a cab..." he looked at his watch "...then I will take you outside, from my office, and leave you at the door. Just... please call me or text me when you feel better." He left her on the bed, not waiting for her reply.

---

"Any news, boss?"

"Nothing, Nam... nothing... she must be getting ready to leave New-York; she told me she had three days."

"I'm sorry, Allan. We both lost our loved ones long ago... I can't begin to imagine going through all that again... you should call her, you know... tell her how you truly feel."

Allan was a sorry sight, unkempt, unshaved, fed exclusively by ice cream and obviously lacking sleep. "She knows, Nam... she knows explicitly and right down to her last brain cell. In a weird way, it think this makes it worse for her. No... I've got to let her sort it all out. I just wish I could know if she's all right... at least then I could OH FUCK! FUCK, NOT NOW!!!"

"Boss, what's wrong?" Nam-il knew the subject had changed - Allan was visibly focusing on his hearing aid.

"Strange tattooed lady freak... Bank of America!" Allan was already going to his Sanctuary entrance.

"Her? Now?" Nam-il went from puzzled to terrified in a flash. "Allan, don't go! You're in no shape for this! Take a rest and track her later if you must!"

"And I would sleep, how, exactly? I'm going Nam... you call 911 and try warning them, without sounding crazy... and..."

"Use the secure line... yea yea, I know. Allan... please don't get killed today."

"I'll do my best."

---

Allan could see nothing but eyes, filled with terror, that were looking for any bearing in the darkness. He could hear no outside sound.

"Are you all right, officer?"

"Y.. yeaaa... but my right arm hurts... you're crushing it."

"I'm sorry about that... my forearm is... broken, so I cannot apply force with it. I will count to three and then try to get up, OK? I suggest you close your eyes and hold your breath: there will be a lot of dust, and maybe small debris."

"O... OK..."

Allan's secret fears were unfounded and he easily managed to free his armored self from the rubble of the fallen concrete wall. He could now take stock of the young police officer that he had shielded with his body. "How is your arm now? It looks bad but... I'm not good with colors."

"Aaaargh... it looks like it's only a cut and a big bruise. But what about your arm? You look like metal shit!"

"Thank you for your concern... the damage is only in my exoskeleton forearm and on armor plates. This will all be repaired... and I will take two extra-strength Tylenol."

The policewoman was taking in the scene. "What a mess!!!! And the bitch who caused all this... where did she go?"

"Back where she came from, I hope..."

"To Japan?"

"Why do you think she's from Japan, officer... Lee?"

"All those tattoos... she must be Yakuza, and a pretty big shot, too!"

"An honest mistake; no, officer Lee, the tattoos on Lazarus are not a badge for the Yakusa, they are her dimensional travel engine, her protective gear and her arsenal."

"Are you shitting me?"

"I wish I was. Femtocircuitry and molecule-size power cells embedded in organic compounds that are tattooed on her body and linked to her own nervous and vascular systems. If she's not imprisoned in her own universe by now, she will fully heal and return."

"Why do you call that chick Lazarus?"

"Are you familiar with the original Star Trek series?"

"No..."

"Then you won't get the joke. She has never named herself and the only English name she has ever used was the one of her victim: Amanda Cummings. Don't bother taking notes: she's been listed as missing for at least eight years and you will never find her."

"Whyyy?" The young agent's face frowned; she had morphed from disbelieving to suspicious.

"Lazarus once claimed that, because Amanda Cummings was her quantum opposite, she wrapped her up in a stasis field and gated her in an antimatter parallel Earth. Of course, it's all hearsay, but I tend to believe her. If this was indeed the fate of Amanda Cummings, then she has been disintegrated into pure light the second her stasis field collapsed... no corpus delicti."

"You are speaking nonsense."

"Maybe... but the first time we crossed paths, Lazarus was dressed with only her tattoos and she did not speak any Earthly language. However, her dimensional gateway failed after a few hours, so as a result she vanished before she could do any serious mischief."

"During our second encounter, after she had ostensibly eliminated Amanda Cummings, Lazarus remained here longer but, luckily, she seemed mostly intent on wolfing down pizzas and having her way with a bunch of male escorts. She doesn't appear to enjoy her homelife and seeks to live here. She learned English and even tried for a job, which of course failed, as she is so beyond all of our civilization levels. When it finally came down to a fight, she beat me to a pulp but I got lucky: she broke one of my... fire extinguishers, and the frost from all the supercooled agent disrupted her tattoos."

"Since then, she wants to forcefully lay claim to a life here. Make no mistake, officer Lee: Lazarus is my superior in every way - smarter, tougher, about six times faster, and her weaponry is terrifying. At the outset of our third battle, I was all but dead, but then she was yanked away from Earth against her will; I think Lazarus is a wanted criminal in her own Earth."

"I saw you evade her... beam weapons. No cop has ever mentioned you dodging anything before; what are they?"

"Maser disintegrators. Basically, whatever is hit becomes plasma by virtue of Coulomb explosions and, as a bonus, the plasma cloud thus created is highly charged... that accounts for the random lightning strikes that usually follow.

"And even your armor can't resist it?"

"Any element or material has a vaporization temperature, no matter how high..." Allan cut his thought short, as he focused to control a tremor in his right hand. "Are you sure you will be alright, officer Lee?"

The Human Tank was about to leave the battle scene, to the sound of arriving emergency services. "Yes... but... wait! Why did you tell me all of this?"

"Because you were willing to listen, because I will not always be around and because, the next time Lazarus returns, she might very well win."

"Yea, right!!! You threw manhole covers at her like they were Frisbees! You rammed her through the bank safe! You dove on purpose from that upper floor to drive her into the pavement! You completely owned that fight... until that wall was about to fall over me and you leaped to my rescue, that is... and thank you for that, by the way!"

"You're welcome... and... between you and me, she just chose a very bad day to show up."

---

Allan painfully stepped out of his van and, one more time, welcomed the soothing sight of his Sanctuary.

(Man! I think I'll need to drill a hole into that headache!!!)

"You have a headache, sweetheart? You know, it just so happens that I'm very good with headaches!"

The change was instantaneous and comical: Allan became self-conscious, straightened up and tucked in his shirt. His reply sounded excited and worried at the same time. "Chaha? It's good to hear your voice... where are you?"

"In your bed, eating your ice cream... though I have to say you didn't leave me much."

Allan stayed put. "Are you doing alright? I was worried..."

"You don't need to stay back, darling... for one thing, I'm tracking your mind very clearly now; for another thing, yes, I'm feeling better, and I hope to improve that state of being to wonderful in the immediate future."

"What did you do, for the last two days?" He was walking slowly towards his living room. He could not see her yet.

"I meditated, of course... and discovered that meditation does wonders for a wounded psyche, but next-to-nothing for a wounded heart. So I wallowed in nostalgia and replayed all the memories of our time together... and that gave me the inspiration to actually sample Bangalore whisky... which led me to my first hangover. So, you see, honey, I was in no condition to tell you that I was alright. In fact, I think I might still be a little tipsy! Of course, YOU chose to go out and fight World War IV with your nemesis... how did that work for you?"

Well... I did save a policewoman today... and got to actually talk to her... that's always nice."

"Should I be jealous?" She was obviously teasing.

"You have not looked at yourself in a mirror if you think you should worry about myself and another woman."

"I know... I'm just messing with you... because, of course, I can... but on the subject of jealousy, I should say that I spoke to Rosie, earlier today. Nam-il told me where to find her... then he let me in here, through his emergency entrance... while inwardly scolding me for breaking your heart. I'm really glad that you have such a caring and trusted friend."

Allan was now close to the bed and could guess her presence, lying down and cuddled in his blankets. Chaha was watching an episode of UFO, another one of his favorites she probably discovered during their previous date. "Did all this help?"

She ate a spoonful of ice cream before replying. "Honestly... a lot. I told Rosie how much I missed you... it's been only two days and my heart aches for you... my own heart. I know now that I am whole only when you are near me. I told her I know just how much you love her, that I don't want to replace her; I told her that I want to love you, to be loved by you, to be happy with you, to make babies with you, to grow old with you, to savor our new lease on life as long as we possibly can. Allan, I promise you I will never be jealous of her again: if she had not been in your heart, we would have never met and, for you to love me, you need to love her. I'm not afraid anymore... not even of you getting killed out there; coming in here, I was only worried that your feelings for me might fade, that your heart would heal without a place for me in it; of course, I can now sense just how ridiculous was that fear, and it makes me happy to no end."

Chaha then rose from the bed and Allan felt the air being sucked out from his lungs. She was wearing a glossy black peignoir, in lace and translucent, with a wavy chiffon pattern on the collar and sleeves. It was completely open, showcasing all of her drop-dead chest and legs, save for a G-string and a very revealing low-cut bra, both glossy black. No accessories, no jewelry except for small studs in her ears and a discreet make-up, mostly to enhance her cherry-red lips, her eyes and her eyebrows. Chaha Mitra was devastatingly beautiful and she wished to offer herself to her beloved, in all of her spectacular glory.

Allan was completely stupefied. "Allan, look at me. Look at all of me. I know you are mine for the taking if I wish; and I wish it; I also know that, in your heart, you hope I might be yours; and I am all yours, Allan... but I did not come here to talk. I leave in four hours for Milan... what I want is for us to create such a memory of love that I will be able to survive being away from you. Please take me, Allan... however you want. Cuddle me with tantra if you like or fuck me senseless if you prefer... let's be one while we can... Allan, I know now... I love you."

On cue with her last appeal, Chaha dropped her peignoir to the floor; Allan was enthralled and paralyzed by sheer wonder... he was seeing the peignoir cascade towards the floor, all along her curves, in slow motion.

"Allan?"

"Just... give me one second... if it's the last thing I ever do, I want to look at you like this."