Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (27 page)

“What
problem?”

“I
think there’s a leak under the sink. I could hear water dripping this morning.
Could you have a look?”

Don
sighed, and went through into the kitchen. Sue followed. He felt fine, but he
could remember nothing of what he had done since getting out of bed.

 
Maybe
I’m going nuts,
he thought.

He
turned to Sue “So where’s the problem?”

Sue
opened the cupboard door under the sink. “In there somewhere. You’ll have to
get down on the floor. I’ll turn the tap on.”

Don
sank to his knees and peered into the dark cupboard. “I can’t hear anything
dripping.”

“Just
a minute.”

He
heard Sue moving around behind him and he edged forward to get his head further
inside.

“I
don’t think...” he began, and banged his head as he received a tremendous whack
across his backside, followed by a second as he struggled to get to his feet.

“Spank
me, would you?” hissed a voice in his ear. A jug of icy cold water was poured
over his head and as he struggled upright he saw Sue as she dropped a big wooden
spoon on the floor, dashed out of the kitchen, and fled up the stairs.

Don
stood for a moment in shock, then grinned. He stripped off his wet clothes,
dropped them in a heap on the kitchen floor, took a tub of soft ice-cream from
the fridge, removed the lid and bounded naked up to the bedroom. Sue was lying
on the bed, her blouse unbuttoned to the waist and her short skirt hiked up
around her thighs.

“What
can I do for you, naked stranger?” she purred.

He
reached the bed in one stride, dropped the ice-cream tub on the floor, and
straddled her before she had a chance to move.

He
looked down at her sternly. “Well, let’s see. You’ve been very naughty, and
naughty girls get punished. To start with, they have their clothes taken off.”

He
stripped her, holding her easily in his strong arms as he removed blouse, bra
and skirt. He left her panties on and, still straddling her, moved up and
rubbed his cock up and down in the valley between her breasts.

“Maybe
they get spanked again. Or should I just tickle you until you beg for mercy?”

Sue
looked up at him warily.

“Or
should I just tell you how gorgeous you are and how much I love you?”

Sue
looked up at him, ran her tongue over her lips, and smiled. He leaned down and
kissed her. She looped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes as his lips
moved to her breasts. He sucked first one nipple and then the other, running
his tongue around the rapidly hardening little pinnacles of flesh and listening
to sighs of pleasure. Keeping his lips and tongue busy, Don reached back until
his searching hand found the tub on the floor. He scooped up a handful of ice
cream, brought his hand up and slid it under the waistband of her panties. Sue
shrieked as he dropped the freezing mixture between her legs, and rubbed it
into the hot flesh with the palm of his hand.

“You
bastard!”

She
wriggled frantically, kicking her legs, but Don held her tight and laughed
against her breasts. As her struggles subsided, he released her and reached
back down to the tub. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he dropped another large
dollop of ice cream between her breasts. She gasped and shuddered as he smeared
it across her nipples.

“Keep
still,” he whispered.

He
lowered his head and began to lick. She whimpered as his hand slid down her
stomach and his fingers rubbed the front of her panties, pressing the melting
ice cream into her vagina. Her breathing became heavier as he licked and sucked
the ice cream from her breasts. He moved down, his tongue making a cold trail
on her stomach, and she groaned as he eased her panties down and began licking
the insides of her thighs, working his way slowly upwards. She threw her legs
wide apart as his tongue parted the lips of her vagina. He licked with long,
steady strokes and she reached a hand to the back of his head to pull him
harder against her. His tongue reached her clitoris and moved faster and faster
until her body arched upwards and she sank back on the pillows.

Don
sat up and took a deep breath. He kissed her and the taste of ice cream mingled
with her own juices made her shudder with pleasure. She reached down, twined
her fingers round his cock, and urged him upwards between her slick thighs
until he slid inside her. He moved in and out deliberately, watching her face,
refusing to speed up, playing with her, stopping and starting again. Gradually,
she began to lose control. Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps, and
she began to moan deep in her throat. Don slowed his pace and she tried to move
faster, straining frantically against him.

“Please,”
she whispered as he stopped moving, his cock buried to the hilt.

Twice
more he brought her near to the point of no return, only to stop just before
she could come. Her eyes were pleading with him as he started to move again.

“This
time,” he whispered, and quickened his pace. Her legs rose up around him as she
matched his thrusts, until they came together with deep groans of mutual
satisfaction. They lay still for a long time then Don slipped out of her and
stood up.

 “Good
stuff, that ice cream.”

She
grinned up at him.

“Any
left?”

“Why?”

“I
want to eat some off your cock.”

Don
laughed and went into the bathroom.

* *
* *

A
few days later, Don came home from work to find his wife in the kitchen. He
kissed her, and she kissed him back, hard.

“I’ve
got something to tell you,” she said, eyes gleaming. “I’ll get you a drink
first.”

“Is
it something so bad I’ll need a drink?”

“I
hope not,” she said, handing him a glass of wine. “Come into the lounge.”

“Aren’t
you having one?”

“No,
sweetheart, I’ll be leaving the alcohol alone for a while. I think the ice
cream worked.””

Don
stared at her for a minute then a huge grin spread over his face.

“You’re
pregnant!”

“Yes,
sweetheart, confirmed by the doc this morning.”

“Great!
Surely you can have a drop of wine to celebrate?”

“Well,
maybe a little drop.”

Sue
turned and opened the cupboard behind her then snatched her hand back.

“Don!”

He
could hear the fear in her voice.

He
leapt to her side. “What’s wrong?”

The
key was lying on the shelf, next to the wine glasses.

“You
threw that thing away. I’m sure it wasn’t there just now when I got your glass!
I know it wasn’t!”

She
started to cry and Don put his arm around her and led her into the lounge.

“Stay
here, love. I’ll sort this out.”

He
went back into the kitchen and grabbed the key. As he did so the memory of the
creature in the cavern came back and its words echoed in his brain.

“
Bring
her to us with the child.”

“No!”
he snarled and felt the key writhe in his hand.

He
strode out to the garage where a spare car battery stood in the corner. He
dropped the key into a plastic bucket, unscrewed the cell caps from the
battery, and poured acid on the key. As the first drops hit it and the surface
began to bubble, screaming filled his head and pain flared. The screaming and
the pain went on but he gritted his teeth and sat down heavily on the concrete
floor, shaking the bucket to swirl the liquid inside and slowly the noise and
the pain died away. He sat still for a long time. At last, he stood and looked
down. The key was gone. Only a few black flakes floated on the surface of the
thick, brownish liquid. Don took the bucket into the garden, connected the
hose, and directed a powerful jet of water into it. Steam rose, the bucket fell
on its side and skittered across the grass, liquid flying as Don pursued it
with the hose until it spun around and fell against the side of the shed.

Don
turned off the hose and examined the shed. The padlock was still there but the
old lock had disappeared. Dirty black wood stretched across the whole width of
the door. He reached out and touched the spot where the lock had been, then
turned and went back indoors. Sue was sitting on the couch, stroking Jack.

“It’s
okay, honey,” Don said. “I’ve really got rid of it this time.”

Sue
smiled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Was I being silly?”

“No,
love, you weren’t being silly.” Don rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Forget it!
You’re going to have our baby!” A thought struck him and he looked at her
carefully. “Uh, does that mean we can’t...?”

“Of
course we can. For months yet.” She grinned. “In fact, if you feel like it
now...”

Her
words were left hanging in the air as Don picked her up and carried her up the
stairs.

ABOUT JIM BAKER

Born in England in 1945, Jim Baker
now enjoys the sunshine in Perth, Western Australia. During the course of his
working life Jim lived in seven different countries and much of his erotic
writing draws on his personal experiences, in particular from Asia. He has a
passion for long distance walking, especially in the Australian bush and the Himalayas,
and finds the inspiration for his work often comes during these trips into the
wilderness. He started writing erotica in 2004 and has more than fifty stories
published on line in the USA plus about twenty in print in the UK.

Sacred Stone

By
G.R Richards

Tuul
let out a drunken cackle as he climbed the Celtic Cross. When he reached the
top, he turned to face the group. “Hey man,” he called out. They couldn’t
ignore him if they tried. “Dudes, look up here. I’m on the cross!”

His
maniacal laughter made them uneasy.
Everything
about him made them
uneasy. In his state of severe inebriation, he started to slip. Tumbling
forward, he dug his heels into the base of the ring to steady himself. For a
moment, his expression sobered. Leaning his ass back against the cross, he
laughed again as he clung to the stone. It was a close call, but not close
enough to drive some sense through his thick skull. Bear gazed up at the idiot
and rolled his eyes. The way Tuul tossed his head back and howled at the sky,
he looked like a mad scientist harnessing the power of lightning—except
there was no lightning, no storm, not a cloud in sight. The sky was backlit by
stars twinkling like pinpricks in a sheet of black velvet.

“Hey,
does anybody mind if I pound one out up here?” Tuul snorted. They all looked up
at him in mild revulsion. Nothing he did or said shocked them anymore. When
nobody responded, he cupped a hand behind his ear and asked, “What’s that,
Knudson? You could do with a hot cum shower?”

Alex
Knudson’s blush was visible even in the dark of night. Fortunately, Alex Wood
was always nearby to stick up for the kid. Giving Tuul the finger, he shouted,
“Go fuck yourself, man.”

“That’s
exactly what I planned to do,” Tull replied. His chuckle was gritty. Dirty.
“So, you’re giving me the go-ahead, are you Woody?”

“Like
he could even get it up,” Alex Wood scoffed. “That guy is drunker than my aunt
Tipsy on game day.”

Alex
Knudson stood perfectly still. His cheeks had gone from beet red to sheet
white.

The
sheer magnitude of Tuul’s inebriation turned Bear’s stomach. There was a time
and a place to go overboard. Sure, evening was an okay time, but this was
definitely not the place. He sincerely hoped Tuul would fall to his death. As
he tried his damnedest to pick up one of the two stone orbs the asshole had
tossed from their pedestals, he decided he couldn’t stand any more of Tuul’s
bullshit. “Dude, we’re in a cemetery. Show some respect.”

“
You
show
me
some respect, man,” Tuul laughed. Howling at the autumn moon, he
rubbed his palm over the crotch of his jeans. Every so often, he gave his
package a good squeeze and then grunted. “I’m the
man
, man! You should
all
show me some respect.” Judging by his expression of focused contempt, Wood had
been right about him being too drunk to get it up.

Though
their spirits had probably left the earth plane long ago, Bear cast psychic
blessings over the graves Tuul had desecrated. In the moonlight, he could make
out the dates on the stone orbs’ pillars. Nineteen twenty-two, one; nineteen
twenty-six, the other. They
did
have an art deco look to them, when Bear
stopped to think about it.

“What
are we going to do about him?” Alex Wood whispered. He looked over at the
strangely phallic pilaster Tull had knocked over before climbing up the Celtic
Cross. Finally, he just covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. “This
dude’s out of control.”

“Hey,
look,” Tull called from the top of the cross. He pointed down at the orbs and
the pilaster lying amongst the acorns and oak leaves. “It’s a dick and two balls.”

“Yeah,
and you’re like a dick with no balls,” Alex Knudson mumbled. Wood chuckled
softly, like he wanted to acknowledge without getting caught. They tried one
last time to lift the heavy pilaster.

Bear
was certain they all shared the vague sense of following a tornado around town
just to deal with its aftermath. Why did they hang out with Tuul anyway? The
guy was a jerk. But he was an unpredictable jerk, which probably went a long
way in answering that question. There wasn’t a hell of a lot to do in town, and
if Tuul displayed a talent for one thing, that was providing entertainment. It
was also a matter of keeping friends close and enemies closer. If they shunned
him, God only knew how Tuul would react. The dude was crazy. He had no concept
of being outnumbered. He just did whatever he felt like.

The
two Alexes managed to lift the stone pilaster almost to knee level, but even
with Bear’s last-minute help they couldn’t get it all the way up. Maybe they’d
all had a little too much to drink that night. They dropped the stone.

Shaking
out his arms, Wood said, “There’s no way. We’ll just have to leave them like
this.”

“But
we could get arrested just for being here,” Alex Knudson stammered.
“We’re—what is it called? Enablers?”

“We’re
that too,” Wood replied. “But I think you mean
accessories
.”

“Whatever.
Let’em arrest us,” Bear said. His breath heaved after another valiant attempt
to pick up an orb. The stone was massively heavy. Now that he knew it was
nearly one hundred years old, its age seemed to add twenty pounds to its
weight. “We probably deserve to be thrown in jail for encouraging that bastard,
but if I get haunted because of him, I swear to God I’m sending the ghosts
straight to his house.”

In
one staggered motion, they all turned to find Tuul still working away at his
crotch. He didn’t seem to be having much luck. “You don’t really believe in
ghosts, do you?” Alex Knudson marveled. “I mean, I do, but I wouldn’t have
thought you did too.”

“Of
course I believe in ghosts,” Bear said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I
don’t know,” the kid replied.
The kid
…he’d have to stop thinking of
Knudson that way. It was hard to see him as a full-grown man. “I think it’s
because you’re so strong.”

Bear
chuckled at the conflation of psychic strength and physical prowess. They
weren’t at all the same thing. “Not strong enough to move this orb,” he said.
He almost kicked the damn thing before it occurred to him how much that would
hurt his foot.

“Hey,
I know what’ll help me along,” Tuul growled from up above. He stretched out his
arm to greet a vision in white—the gorgeous stone angel mourning some
poor sap up the hill.

The
guys gasped in unison as Tuul leaped down from the Celtic Cross. He landed in a
crouching position, sending up the heavy scent of decomposing autumn leaves. If
it had been any other guy, the fall would have killed his ankle. Tuul had the
luck of the devil. That, or he was so perpetually wasted he couldn’t feel pain.
The ground was muddy and wet beneath the leaf layer. He slid as he ran up the
hill, but seemed to consider the journey worth the effort. “I’ve found her,
guys—the girl of my dreams!”

“That’s
a dude,” Wood called to the running man. Though the angel’s robe draped down
his androgynous form like a woman’s dress, his hair was slightly shorter than
the average female angel’s. A dead giveaway. Plus, “Look at the chest. No
tits.”

Tuul
halted on the spot to stare up at the statue. With a shrug, he finally said,
“Whatever. Chick, dude, I don’t care. Cemetery angels are hot.”

Wandering
in the statue’s direction, Wood chuckled, “Yes, but does he realize it’s made
of stone?”

“I
used to think he’d fuck anything with a pulse,” Bear replied, following Wood up
the hill. “I think he’s reached a new low.”

Alex
Knudson almost tripped over an orb as he focused his attention up the hill. He
ran to catch up. “I don’t know. Cemetery angels
are
pretty hot,” he
said. “At least, I think they are.”

Following
the kid’s gaze, Bear had to wonder if his doe eyes were more set on the angel
or on Tuul. As much as Knudson joined in the banter, Bear always saw a flicker
of awe in those young eyes when the idiot was around. They soldiered on up the
hill. By the time they’d reached the top, Tull had an arm and a leg around the
statue. “Don’t we make just the prettiest little couple?” he asked in a drunken
falsetto.

The
Alexes looked on in disbelief as he dry-humped the angel’s thigh. “Come on, get
down from there,” Bear called.

“Yeah,”
Wood joined in. “If you need to act like all crazy, do it at home. Bear doesn’t
want to get haunted because of you.”

A
grin broke across Tuul’s lips, and Alex Knudson followed suit. “Give it to
him!” the kid laughed. It broke Bear’s heart to see a sweet young guy so taken
with an asshole, but what could he do? They’d all been down that road at one
time or another. It was the fate of every young person to fall for a bad boy.
Bear only hoped the kid wouldn’t get hurt too badly.

As
the idiot on the monument licked the stone figure’s cheek, Knudson egged him
on. “Show him Tuul’s tool!”

Wood
shook his head, lowering his eyes. “We’re all going to get haunted for this.”

“Hey,
yeah!” Tuul shouted. Laughing like a drunken monkey, he unwrapped his leg from
the stone angel’s body. He undid his jeans and let them drop to his ankles.
Against the dark night sky, his tightie-whities glowed blue. He squirmed out of
them. When they fell nearly to his ankles, his limp dick hung down almost that
far. Bear half understood why a kid like Knudson would appreciate Tuul. His
cock made frequent and random appearances. If he didn’t act like such an
assface, Bear might even find himself interested.

Tuul’s
cock pulsed as he ran his palm along the underside of his shaft. His flesh,
which usually seemed darker than theirs, appeared almost as white as the stone
sculpture. Bear didn’t have to look at the other guys to know they were
mesmerized by dick. Tuul
was
pretty awe-inspiring. In fact, they were
caught in such rapture they didn’t notice the greater miracle. Beside Tuul, the
angel awoke. Bear noticed first. His movement was slow. Maybe that’s why they
missed it. His head inched upright and turned to the guy jacking it—or,
at least, attempting to.

The
stone angel rolled his shoulders. A thunderous crack resounded across the
cemetery grounds as his carved wings broke from his back. They fell down to
earth, planting themselves like giant lilies in the ground.

Bear’s
feet planted themselves every bit as firmly. If fear could turn a man white, he
was sure his skin would be forever pale after this insanity. A sense of awe
overtook him as the folds of the angel’s robe rippled in the wind. His chest
felt very warm and full, but he still would have run if he could. It was no
use. He was paralyzed with terror.

As
the angel tilted his stone head to consider Tuul’s obvious terror, he seemed to
smile. His eyes appeared almost human. Better than human, if fact. They glowed
with a supernatural warmth and affection. Love seemed to course from his being.
Strange.
Stone was always characterized as cold. This creature was
anything but.

Like
he’d read Bear’s thoughts, the angel turned to cast his tender gaze on him. He
was lucky not to shit himself. He wasn’t sure if his speech consisted of
tangible words, or if it was energy waves traveling from the statue’s essence
to his mind. “You see no heart in stone?” he asked. “You see no spirit?”

With
a feline screech, Tuul regained his capacity for motion. As he struggled to
pull up his jeans, he quickly lost his balance. This time, instead of a rugged
pounce from the monument, he tumbled down to earth. He landed with a thud. Bear
felt the other guys gasp along with him. Tuul was a lucky bastard, but there
was no way he could have survived. It wasn’t so much the fall itself, but the
way he settled—with his neck to the ground and his ass in the air. He was
a goner for sure.

Alex
Knudson was the first at his side. “Hey, man, are you okay?”

The
angel looked down on him—
was he still an angel if his wings had fallen
off?—
but Tuul didn’t respond. “You killed him,” Wood said. He spoke
flatly, like he wasn’t quite sure if Tuul’s death was a good thing or a bad
thing.

“Shut
up,” Bear hissed, amazed he could actually produce sound. “Don’t blame the
angel. He’ll curse you.”

A
chuckle fluttered down from on high. The angel seemed slightly less white than
he had before. “Foolish boys,” he cooed. His voice was light as the air, but
also reverberated with deep undertones. The echo in Bear’s groin felt like a
fist clutching his package. The statue chuckled, “Your friend is far from dead,
and I am far from angelic.”

So
it was true that wings made the angel…

Tearing
his stone feet from the weathered platform, he lifted them one by one. The
ground trembled as they detached. Gazing straight ahead, he stepped from his
monument with the resignation of a pirate walking the plank. When he fell, the
earth shook so badly Bear had to grab hold of a headstone. The angel landed
upright—no cracks in his smooth skin or breaks in his precious limbs.
Wood fell on his ass. Alex Knudson was already on his knees, but he clung that
much harder to Tuul.

Gazing
at the statue’s stunning face and flowing garments, Bear wondered how he could
claim not to be angelic. He was the very image of a heavenly creature. Before
he realized he was speaking, Bear asked, “Are you sure you’re not an angel? You
sure look like one.”

When
he lifted his finger to his lips and giggled, the motion reminded Bear of the
way people moved underwater. He seemed inhibited by atmospheric forces. “Yes, I
know,” he replied in his magical high-low tone. “But, you see, I am not my
form. I am stone. That is all. I am stone that has been carved to appear
angelic, but I am no more so now than when I began.”

It
was something Alex Knudson and Wood might not understand, being from town, but
he and Tuul shared a common ancestry. Their upbringing wasn’t as traditional as
it might have been two hundred years earlier, but if the elders passed down one
piece of sacred knowledge, it was that there was life in all things. Every
tree, every deer, and every pebble on the beach had breath. The planet was
sacred, from the rain falling on our heads to the dirt under our feet. Bear
knew all this to be true. He understood what the stone was telling them. “The
voice that speaks to us is the spirit of the stone,” Bear said. “How should we
address you?”