Impudicitia

by Sealey De Boc

The grey wool robe I wore was much too warm for the late summer weather.  I was in exile, heading towards the pirate city of Port Vegas.  It seemed as though I was running into angry mobs of people wherever I went.  My face was easily recognized because of all those damned rotten billboards all over the old country with my face pasted on them, smiling like an idiot and making empty quotes of peace and happiness under my rule.  I fled Pittsburgh after the failure of my reign and the birth of the Free States.  How truly free were these people I will never know.  I had reached an old monastery in the middle of the night and begged for a bed and a moment of shelter from the wizened old men.  They gave me words from their god and some hot broth to drink, I only hoped they wouldn't cut my throat as I slept in the barn.  I had once been a strong warrior and a handsome emperor; I was still confused about how my life had taken a sudden and harsh turn for the worst.

At dawn, I woke up and brushed all of the hay from my robe. I found myself face to face with a young man, maybe a young monk or maybe just a stable boy, I couldn't tell.  He must have been about half my age, he was muscularly defined but sweet faced with soft brown hair.  For a moment he seemed to think he was gazing face to face with a ghost until I broke the silence.

“Here now, I mean no harm. I’m just passing through.” My voice was rough from the recent sleep.

“Of course, forgive me, I did not believe it was really you standing here… in this barn.” His voice was deep enough to be a man’s voice, yet his face was still the cherub’s. “The Free People believe you to be some kind of fiend. That you are possessed by evil spirits and committing the most insidious crimes.  However, I am not one to pass judgement. I am just a simple man.”

“Your god passes the judgement, no?” I raised my eyebrow and scratched my beard to give an insinuation of sarcasm. “I used to be a god. I used to be the judge of all. Now here I am, nothing but a simple man just as you are standing here, in this barn.”

“You speak as though you are indeed possessed.” I could see him working many thoughts in his mind.  I stepped closer to him.

“You know nothing of possession…” I breathed the words and touched his cheek with my finger tips.  He backed away with a simple look of shock, not disgust.  I hooked my hand behind his neck and wrenched his face so close to mine I could feel his quickened breaths on my lips.  “My judgements have always been eternal.” With my other hand I brought my hunting knife to his cheek, the glistening metal sparkled in the morning light.  His eyes never lost contact with mine and he showed no true fear.

“My convictions are not the same as those of the monks with whom I live. I say, let God judge me after life at the gates but He shall not make the judgements in my life.”  The boy’s hand reached up and mimicked me by touching my face in the same way I did, and then he reached down to my groin and cupped my cock and balls gently.
“Who is the fiend possessed by evil spirits now?” I asked softly.

With one swift movement I removed my wool robe and underneath I wore a kind of peasant shirt and cotton breeches.  I grabbed the boy by his shoulders and spun him around and smashed him between the nearest wall and my body.  I held his jaw in my hand and twisted his face until his eyes could once again lock with mine.  If he knew his struggles lead me on with ever stronger fervor, I knew not; he struggled only enough to stoke my fire.  His short staccato breaths rushed past his clenched teeth with tiny droplets of saliva.  His small brown eyes pooled moisture but his gaze did not falter nor did he ever show fear.  I dropped my knife to my feet to free my hand and undo the buttons on the front of his breeches.  My left forearm was pressed across his shoulders and his face was turned and against the wall.  His pants fluttered to the dirty barn floor and left his legs and buttocks exposed.  I took several moments to grab handfuls of flesh and squeeze mercilessly.  My fingers left soft pink marks on his skin where they had dug so deeply.  I was groaning now because I could feel that spectacular swell in my groin.  The ache between my legs was becoming a throb of urgency.  I thrust my pelvis against his buttocks and drank in the pleasure of my hardened cock pressed against his tender body.  I raked my fingers through his hair and deeply inhaled the scent that was the essence of him.  Beads of sweat had appeared on the boy’s forehead.

I grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled his head backwards, his mouth was gaping, and his breath was haggard.  I put three fingers in his mouth and tugged at his cheek.  I wiggled my fingers in the wetness between his tongue and cheek.  He set his gaze onto my hidden and erect cock and his face was as easy to read as a book of hymns.  I let go of his head and he spun around and landed on his knees, face to face with my manhood.  Once again I tousled his hair and pulled it gently between my fingers, his eyes were darting between mine and my breeches.  He pulled at a couple buttons, but didn’t completely release my pants.  His hand was on a search and rescue mission for my exigent cock that reached for freedom.  And I was free at last.  Without a moment of question he held me firm and kissed the tip with his exquisitely moist lips, and it made the most delicate smacking sound.  I did not release his hair from my grip, but the ecstasy sent spasms into my legs and I had to use my other hand to steady myself with the wall.  He kissed me again and again, each time his kiss was deeper, longer, and wetter.  At last his tongue was softly brushing the tip and the underside of the shaft.  His strong grip pulled on it from the base to his lips.  I longed for more of his mouth and less of his hands, though I very much enjoyed his hands.  I hooked the back of his neck, as I had done before, and this time brought his head and the entire facial aperture down onto my shaft.  His lips locked in a tight “O” and his tongue forced into submission, and I beat his throat with the tip of my cock.  I was lost in the pleasure feeling that suction come from his throat.  He made an array of groans and gasps and each one was like another one of his new fluttering kisses.  It seemed that his whole body was suckling at my dick.  I could feel my pleasure was rising to the point of no return with each spasm in my groin.  The world seemed to be shaking and throbbing all around me except for his steady brown eyes looking up at me with dogged determination.

A fistful of his hair felt like the reigns of a race horse in my hand.  I commanded him to stand by pulling on these reigns.  I pushed his face back away from mine and pulled his hips so that his buttocks met with my hips.  He turned his head and looked at me and looked towards his buttocks and a moment of passion caught me; I slapped his face and as he turned away with a barely audible whine, I grabbed his hindquarters with my hands and spread the mounds so that my target was visible.  That little squinting eye of dark flesh called to me. I brushed my thumb over it, feeling the softness of it.  With as much saliva I could gather, I spat on it and with my thumb I pressed into it.  He was hot on the inside.  It was as though I had just slipped my thumb into a fresh and sweet apple pie.  But it was much tighter, even tighter than his succulent mouth.  I shook my whole hand vigorously massaging the orifice and spreading my saliva generously.  I continued this and spat two more times within a few minutes while the boy made tiny sobs and moans.  My aching shaft twitched and tapped against the young scrotum; he was so warm and I wanted to lose myself inside of him.  I grabbed my cock and brought it to the entrance and with the aid of my thumb I pushed inside slowly, and waited for the inevitable acceptance from his body.  The slick saliva lubricated my penetration but it was the tightest threshold I had ever conquered.  I squeezed his rump harder with my hands and slowly pushed myself deeper into him.  He was deliciously hot inside and I was ecstatic to feel that.  I reached around to his face and put my fingers in his mouth once more.  For a moment I truly was filling him from back to front.  I gathered his saliva with my fingers and rubbed the warm moisture into our point of junction.  I began to move in and out of him repeatedly and I listened for the change in his pace of breath; he made sweet sounds balancing on pleasure and pain that pleased me.  I was mounted on top of him and it felt good to push down into him.

I  could not help myself as I sped up my thrusting.  I was gluttonous, and I wanted more. I grabbed at the base of his neck and slammed his body down onto my cock.  We were both calling out and panting like working dogs.  His body was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was moistened with it.  The grip of my hands slipped a little each time I thrust him back to myself but I dug my fingers into his skin probably scratching him with my fingernails.  His ass was a plastic portal; if I were to quickly remove my member for a moment I could observe the destruction I was unleashing as a spacious void was left behind where I was moments before. I could probe that hot void with two fingers at least and get no resistance; his body was open for me.  It was glorious the way his entire being was pink from my passions, and I reveled in it.  He held onto the wall with both hands to stabilize himself as I crashed into him over and over.

I could feel my eruption coming.  I could feel it slipping through me on its way to the final release.  All space around us felt surreal and exaggerated and beautiful.  I clapped my hand over his mouth; I wasn’t about to let him make any ugly sounds that might ruin my finish.  He drooled a little on my fingers and I liked that he wasn’t in control of himself.  I wrapped my other arm around his torso in anticipation.  Then, I came.  I released my seed into his hot little body in spurts of ethereal earthquakes that I could feel in my bones.  I held onto him for a few moments as my body calmed into a trance of passion.  As I released him from my grasp he slipped to the floor and paused on his hands and knees.  I braced the wall and monitored my breathing as I watched him do the same in his position.  He looked sublime, pink, used, and glistening.  I squeezed the last drops of semen from my cock and held it on my fingers.  I bent over to the boy who was now slumped to one side, partially propped against the wall, and I savagely shoved my sticky fingers into his mouth and wiped any remaining moisture onto his face.
“Good, my pious son.”  I whispered in his ear.

I buttoned up my trousers and gathered up my grey robe and knife.  My passion may have been spent, but I was refreshed and invigorated that morning as I walked out of that monastery.  I felt cleansed and clear.  I was ready to take on all of the angry mobs between me and Port Vegas if I had to.

Heroin Dawn

by Sealey De Boc

I knew visiting the city of Port Vegas was going to be like stepping into the king of all rats’ nests.  As you may already know, I am no man of puritan values.  I thrive quite well in all situations of debauchery and perversions.  I have no marketable profession, and I merely roam and survive in the land we now call the Free States; though it is generally understood that the fallen North American continent has become a dust bowl filled with dark clouds of anarchy.

Port Vegas has no laws and only one rule: enter at your own risk.  I take the risk in the city only once every few years to resupply myself with leisure and drink.  Sometimes a man needs a strong drink to lead him to a deadly game of cards and knives just so it makes the flesh of a whore all the more softer to his touch.  On this particular night I was drinking some house brewed mead and playing poker with a lean stag who had threatened to cut my dick clean off with his overly large hunting knife.  The threats would scare me more if the kid didn't look so much like the choir boys of Salt Lake Monastery.  A few wins, a few loses, and probably a whole cask of mead allowed me to stumble away from the table with my dick intact.  I was ready to fall face first into a sweet cunt and with all the alcohol I had consumed, I was pulling down my pants before I got to the whorehouse behind the pub.

I can’t explain why the soft singing stopped me in my tracks, I am forever surprised by the ability for my drunk senses to pick up anything through the buzz of alcohol in my ears.  I felt her voice showering me in the same way I saw her red hair being rained on by the water droplets of her gravity shower she used to clean her naked body. She wasn’t part of the whorehouse which was only fifteen meters ahead of me; she was on the other side of a slatted chain link fence and she was only a few paces away from myself. I could only drunkenly gawk at her showering there. Surely she must know she lives next to a filthy pub and a whorehouse.  Seeing her as she unabashedly rubbed her sex with fresh water was a beautiful sight to behold.  I could see her spreading it to carefully clean all of its hidden delicate areas.  For a moment she lingered with her fingers sliding over that most sensitive little nub.  She was singing all the while in vowels and without intelligible words, but I could hear and see the beauty that floated from her lips, above and below.

Some asshole behind me stumbled into some metal barrels and made a terrible sound which then alerted the bathing woman to my prying eyes between the fence slats.  She didn’t gasp or run.  She looked straight at me with her green eyes the size of dinner plates.  She looked so young and curious.

“Are you alright?” She asked me, and her words sounded like the music she had been singing.

“Some other fuckwad crashed barrels. I’m shitfaced, but I’m fine.” My words slurred but I assume she understood what I said to her.

“Come to the front door. Just over there.” She turned and glided into her house.

I couldn’t fully understand why she invited me into her house, but if I had been a bit more sober I would have comprehended the situation better.  She answered her door wearing a wrapped body shawl.  The thin fabric clung to her feminine curves luxuriously and I was easily aroused when I watched her backside jiggle as she lead me to the dining area.

“Would you like some coffee?” She asked me as she lit oil lamps and candles around the table.

“No but I’m about to have a smoke, would you like some?” This was an idea that sprung to my head in hopes that I could get her to come close. I had a burning desire to smell her. I saw something in her eyes that made her appear to hear my thoughts. I pulled the glass pipe from my tin case and a canvas pouch of heroin powder.  She leaned in close to me and her hair slipped off her shoulder and stray droplets of water dived onto my trousers.  I took my drag, passed the pipe to her, and I breathed in her scent mixed with the pipe’s vapor and it was purely divine.

Her lips were thinner than most women’s, but the way she wrapped her lips around the pipe and pulled its chemical fumes into her mouth gave my erection a new pulse of life.  Time seemed to slow down as she exhaled the vapor.  I envied the smoke. I wanted to be inside of her and I wanted to give her the high of sexual passion.  She moved her face in front of mine and our foreheads touched as we meditated with our oncoming state of altered awareness.

She was sitting in my lap slowly kissing me and holding fistfuls of my hair in her hands.  My mouth began to feel like part of a rubber mask and she was teasing and tugging my lips with her teeth.  The numbness of heroin is my choice of release, especially before spending the night in the throes of a passionate woman.  We played with each other’s bodies in silly ways and in sexual ways.  She began leading me down her seemingly twisted hallway to her bedroom, a dimly lit room decorated with backlit shawls and silks.  Her bed was a nest of assorted pillows and blankets.  It was too incredibly inviting to abstain from collapsing onto it immediately.  I peeled off my boots and jacket, though my pants had disappeared sometime before I got to the bed.  She needed no time to become entirely nude, and once again I was face to face with her delicately trimmed pubic triangle. It was groomed in a manner that made her sex look as though it were adorned with a little roman pileus hat of curly hair, though her lips were visible and hairless.  She spun around once and toppled onto the bed with me.  She kissed my face and neck slowly for some time as she gently acquainted her hand with my groin.  The heroin has always been a thief to the discomforts of raging hard-ons for me, and I can rarely complain of that.  Her hands worked me diligently and skillfully and for a moment I was dangerously close to coming but she knew to withdraw and keep me balanced on the edge.

Her mouth was everything I expected and more.  Just as she had pulled drags on the pipe, she pulled long drags on my cock.  She continued to work her hands in sync with her mouth and it was pretty damn amazing.

“Wait a minute,” I said, half-sitting up and she looked dazed. I put one hand on her jaw pulling it slack and the other hand on the back of her neck. “I want your tonsils to give me a massage.” I pushed her down onto my shaft until it was the dire attempts of her lungs that desperately sucked for air and got only cock.  Her face was the right shade of purple so I released her.  She never let her eyes leave contact with mine as she caught her breath.  I was pleased that she wasted no time in mounting me, but now her face kept a soft, empty-minded look and for a moment I thought I really saw no life behind her eyes. The moment was lost quickly as I was lost in the rhythmic pumping of our groins.

The moisture that flowed from her created my favorite squishing sounds of flesh on flesh.  Her moans escaped her lungs like unrestful spirits in desecrated graves.  Sweat beaded between her bouncing breasts and her red hair was beginning to go wild as it swung behind her back.  I could see the little pink flower between her legs that was swallowing and releasing my cock with each grind of her body.

I gripped around her small waist and rolled her over to her back and I was able to take her this way.  I had no need for her wandering hands so I held them above her head with one hand and with the other I grabbed her buttocks and angled her pelvis for a better and deeper penetration.  I dove into her furiously.  The head of my cock pounding her core, and with the sounds she was making, it sounded as though I were pounding diamonds inside her.  She was on the edge of release, and I could hear her changing her tones into the sounds of ecstasy. Her orgasm shattered her from head to toe.  As I watched her go from convulsions to being a rag doll of spent energy, I was turned on like an electric light bulb.  I burned with pleasure amassing in my groin.  The pressure and the twitching of my cock released its load inside her.  It was a pure feeling of release and I thanked the gods for my happenstance on this naked and curious little woman.

I lay back and caught my breath as I rested on her pillows.  She lay quiet with me for some time, but I heard her gingerly crawl from the bed and walk out of the room.  She returned with my heroin and began to serve herself once again. She attempted to pass it to me as well, but I declined.
“You go ahead, I’ve been satiated for now. I’ve something here for you. I’d like to stay for the night.” I pulled from the pocket of my trousers a canvas pouch and handed to her the 2 nuggets of gold I had panned in Colorado. She shook her head in agreement and took the gold.  I rolled over and finally let myself fall asleep in those blankets that were saturated in her scent; that scent brought me to a new level of high.

The morning sunlight was filtered red through the silk shawls hung over the windows of the room.  I had the morning desire to feel her flesh yet again, so I rolled over to see her as she slept.  She lay on her back, breasts exposed, blankets tangled between her legs, and her eyes staring at the ceiling.  This was a moment of deja vu; I had seen her lifeless gaze once last night, but this truly was the real thing.  She did not breathe and she did not stir.  She lost none of her beauty lying there staring into nothing. Her hair was full and curly like a lion’s mane pillowing her head.  I touched her slightly parted lips with my thumb. I expected her to be cold, but I felt warmth that may have been hers or it may have been given to her by the dawning sunlight through the windows.  I cupped her breast and it too was slightly warm and lacking none of the silky smoothness I remembered.  I did not want to lose all memory of my night with her to the mists of my heroin binge.

I pulled the blankets from her legs and drank up the perfect sight that was her nude body laying in front of me.  Never have I seen a woman so defenseless and vulnerable as I saw her in that moment.  My erection had fully returned and I felt a little guilty harboring it there in her presence.  I climbed on top of her and rested my face between her breasts and I tried to absorb all of her lovely scent.  I wanted her in my hair and on my skin and in my mouth.  I took her breast into my mouth and suckled at it.  I hummed and listened to my vibrations travel through her silent chest.  I hovered over her in a way so that her eyes seemed to be staring at me.  I had everything of this small woman’s now in my power, and even her eyes were only able to look at me.  My erection rubbed on her inner thigh, and my mind began to ooze with dark thoughts... and I nurtured them.

I spread her legs but they dropped awkwardly.  I touched her sex and probed it with my fingers.  She lacked none of her moisture from the night.  I pressed my face to that pink flower of hers, kissed it, and inhaled her scent directly from its source.  There was not enough heroin in my system now to ebb that throbbing between my legs.  I lifted her by the buttocks once again and drove my sex into hers.  I pumped my hips slowly and I lovingly caressed her cheek kissing her softly on her unresponsive lips.  She was so lovely there beneath me.  She glowed in the sunlight like a porcelain doll.  I tenderly kissed her bouncing breasts and I laughed because it was me who was really keeping her alive.  I was pumping my life into her right here on this bed; I was allowing her to experience the joys of love and passion one last time.  I truly was her final life experience, and I felt blessed.

I composed myself quickly, packed my things, grabbed the gold nuggets, and headed out to the door.  I was stopped short by a stout man with a quivering revolver in his hand standing at the foyer.  He raised the pistol to my face with a spasming hand like that of an elderly invalid.

“How could you...” He choked on his words and his eyes swelled with redness and moisture. “She’s only fourteen!”

Several things happened in that moment. I heard the loud crack of the pistol being discharged. My eyes saw nothing but black at first, but I swear I saw her face for a moment with her huge green eyes looking doughy as ever.  I heard the thud of my body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.  I thought to myself, I think I’m dead, it’s going to happen now, it’s about to...