From the beginning, this became an intriguing idea in my fertile mind. Marc Malone at this stage is a Viet Nam war veteran, currently attending his alma mater Chi City State College hoping to finish his degree in architecture. He is supported financially with aid from the Veteran's G. I bill. He stands erect at 5' 11" a solid 165 pounds of mostly muscle, and a member of a national fraternity enables him to frequent many a fraternity party.

This episode he delves into a fantasy that becomes an experience that is out of this world's metaphysical implications.

Enjoy and read on!


Rousted from sleeping like the dead, Marc Malone recovers quickly through the fog induced from the night before, only to hear the continuous pounding outside his head. He was slightly light-headed from the loud sawing and hammering. He slithered out of bed, traipsed down the narrow hallway into the small kitchen suitable for only two. He heated water for instant coffee, scrambled two eggs, over-easy, and two slices of un-nutritious white toast with a heap of buttery spread and a gob of red raspberry jam on each slice.

He sleepily looks out the small window over the sink as two sweat glistening muscled laborers were putting up a picket fence next door to his downstairs apartment.

Unsatisfied with the noisy intrusion, he begrudgingly trudged into the living room to put on some different musical interludes, hoping to drown out the noise. It was not an auspicious undertaking, so he donned his comfortable green gym shorts, t-shirt with an image of Mount Lassen prominently displayed. Then he was off to pay an early morning visit to Kay's Tavern, a mere five city blocks away, all for a draught of liquid libation.

Maybe he would find something else to do. At the tavern, he noticed the giant ornate 'Milwaukee's finest, Blatz Beer' clock showing 11:11 a.m.

Two cold brews later, a saucy looking female carrying what seemed to be a personal pool stick case sauntered about as Marc began nursing his third. He soon realized this redhead's fiery disposition might not be in keeping with his intentions: an easy care, uncomplicated, quick roll-in-the-hay with any relatively attractive and suitable female. This redhead was a bit too flaming, maybe even flagrantly flamboyant for his taste in the summery, saucy female gender.

Disappointed at the lack of summer coeds, he shuffled slowly back down Cherry Street. The many Sycamores and Magnolias provided ample shade for the near blistering heat. He remembered there were three neighborly coeds just around the corner from his apartment.

He had befriended one of them earlier in the year, in a biblical sort of way. From time to time, she would need to 'visit' him in the downstairs apartment. She was exotic and mysterious, and from out of the county. Marc considered maybe she would welcome some unexpected company.

There was no answer to his knock on the door. Rats, there is no one home. Just my luck, anyway. He turned the corner to view the front yard of the house, noticing how and who had been maintaining the yard work. The front lawn was clean; mown semi-weekly by using a push mower. The rear yard's grass behind the six-foot fence was less than.

Two Maple trees aligned both sides of the house and the neighbor, aging widow Darcy Owens' ancient Cherry tree (supposedly planted by the founder of Chi City in the mid-1800's) was always checked for cherry pickin' time. Being neighborly he would pick and keep half the harvest, the rest going to her, where she might return the favor with a freshly baked cherry pie--always appreciated and delicious. The yard's shrubbery were carefully sculptured.

He smiled and used the front gate and to check out what may lie in wait for only him to see on the other side where lived several summering college coeds.

Inside the downstairs small apartment, he collected a week's worth of trash. While trudging to the back of the property where the trash cans were kept Marc, glanced over the neighbor's short picket fence. There she was, smoldering hot, sunbathing and topless to boot. Oh, my lucky stars; this is such a glorious moment. He held his breath, taking in her stunning beauty.

She possessed a pair of ripe rosy red breasts, not too full, but enough to grasp around with the utmost of care and consideration. They sat well up on her chest, dark pink areolas with perfect round, dime sized nipples. Oh, to indulge in the possibilities. I would dearly love to hold them and rub my tongue around in circles on those perky peaks, before gently sucking and tugging them lustily and gently. Makes me hard just thinking about it.

His physical male response wanted to show itself to her.

She languished in the lounge chair fully reclined, unmoving under a pair of dark sunglasses and seemed to enjoy the heat of the day.

He held his breath.

The trash, still in his arms, was getting heavier; should he remain there in silent repose much longer; either that or the load would be unceremoniously released from the wet papery bottom would unduly startle her from her quiet internal reverie.

Marc stares transfixed, fascinated, as she caressed her own supple body, gently touching and rubbing particular areas that seemed to be in excited distress. Her rosy peaks grew taunt, darkened areolas and nipples sprang forth invitingly. When she tweaked one, then the other, he noticed her hips move slightly. Acting as a voyeur, he watched this incredibly sexy display of uninhibited erotic self-induced wickedness.

Immobilized, it kept him in a thwarted dilemma of sudden erectile proportions. I must do something, but what, when? Immobile, transfixed and temporarily afraid to say anything else, he might ruin a possible erotic rendezvous.

However, as the saying goes: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Marc's eyes focused upon a workable solution to a current dilemma: a brown bottle of suntan lotion that almost matched her natural shade - a flesh color of rich honey, lay on its side under the lounger.

Maybe this was an answer? Her skin must be dry; some bodily movements are stilted, awkward.

He made an empirical decision, a herculean effort on his part. He shook off any resultant hesitation. "Say there, fellow neighbor; I noticed that your skin looks a mite dry. Would you like some help in administering your sun-tanning lotion to the affected areas?"

Sustained silence, as if time had suddenly come to a stop. Marc held on with bated breath until this beautiful golden bronzed blond, Gloria Gottlipz, lazily stirred, "Is that who I think it is, Marc?"

Underneath the dark sunglasses, she had stuffed several large cotton balls to ward off any stray beams of unmerciful sunlight. She giggled with a not-so-subtle smirk, "I can't tell because my eyes are completely covered. Can't you tell?"

He observed her face grimacing, as if in a bit of pain.

She remained glued to the lounge chair like she is permanently attached to it.

Grinning from ear to ear, he took a deep breath. "Well then, I may need to be a bit closer for semi-professional observational purposes as to the reason of your sightlessness. If you don't mind, I'll just put the garbage away first, then hop over the fence... on second thought, maybe I'll use the alley gate."

"Oh silly me. I might have forgotten to lock the side gate. Would you mind so awfully much and check it for me, anyway? I sincerely do not want any unwanted intruders to see me like this." Her nipples were fully erect. Her string polka dotted bikini bottoms remained in place, just barely covering her velvety pubis.

Marc snickered, "Of course I'd be most happy to assist, thus preventing unwanted intrusions from pesky perverts."

Gloria chuckled willfully, encouragingly Marc onward. Then, as she turned on her back, she again exclaimed, her face scrunched up, grimacing. "Ouch!" while completing the movement; her long legs extended over the bottom of the lawn chair.

Marc quickly did an about face nearly running to deposit the trash and returned post haste down the short gravel paved alleyway to the adjoining four-foot picket fence to her side. Good thing for the side gate, I might have gotten stuck trying to hurdle over it... that could prove to be less than satisfactory.

As Marc approached, he watched, stupefied: she had turned over onto her stomach. Her backside revealed significant many large angry-looking red welts. The backs of her upper thighs looked like a switch had been applied most heartily. Hm, maybe not my cup of tea. Perhaps I'll pass. So how am I going to back out gracefully? She is still a desirable piece to have fun with, sometimes on a moment's notice; but this is a bit much for my temperament. I don't need S and M... Well, nothing like approaching with honesty, so here goes nothing.

"Err, Gloria; it seems you came up against an angry rose bush, maybe? I think I have something to soothe those hurts. If it's okay with you, I'll just run back to my place and get it from my medicine cabinet."

She gratefully responded," "Oh, that's so sweet of you, Marc. It so happened last night. Yes, I was little too full of an overabundance of some local kick-a-pooh-joy juice and fell headfirst into the rosebush; you know, the huge one out front.

She paused, "What if instead, I can come with you and get out from this scorching sun? Then you can use whatever you need to assist me, rather than out here in the blistering heat."

Significantly relieved to hear the rose bush was the culprit and not about the possibility of some S & M Marc accepted. "Here, let me help you up."

He reached down to assist; her movements seemed a bit shaky.

Her sunglasses fell away while the cotton balls remained in place until she pulled them away too. She blinked at the suddenness of hot, bright, intense summer's light. Little flurry puffs of cotton were still adhering to parts of her eye sockets, making her look more like a raccoon. She brought her hands up to shield herself from its blistery brilliance, "Oh my gawd Marc, it's awfully bright!"

He laughed. "You have now taken on the look of a disheveled and hung-over raccoon with those eyes of yours; both cute and sorry-full."

"Not funny! Where are you?" Her helplessness added to the package. She was a gorgeous sight, slim build, bronzed goddess, and genuinely needing his help.

"I'm standing as close as I can without falling onto to you. Just keep your eyes closed and bring your arms out." She gratefully accepted and held on to his strong-muscled forearms. There were from pounding nails when he worked for a fellow fraternity brother and building contractor.

"Oh yes, thank you for your kindness. I'm putting you on advanced notice."

"Advanced notice? Am I in for something punitive?"

"You, Marc? Never. No, fresh baked chocolate cookies are for your genuine concern and hospitality. That's the least that I can do to repay you... unless you might need or care for something else, like light housekeeping. I can clean some things better than others to with my athletic abilities."

She giggled and didn't give it another thought, "Just help me up, and I'll come with you, as is. Do you think that will be acceptable?" She rose to her full 5'8", standing just a few inches shorter than he. With a concealed brazenness, "Do I detect a cool breeze?"

He was trying not to breathe on her and couldn't hold back from it either. Signals of primitive lust were being sent up to his brain "No, no breeze, just my breathlessness from seeing you in your near altogether—just bare essentials — is all."

"Oops, I gather then judging from a light breeze, my top seems to be missing. I didn't realize that was so, did you?"

"How could I not; I'm not sightless. It's all right with me tho' if you don't mind parading around the backyard in just that little polka dotted patch to cover your... hidden assets."

He paused briefly to gaze at her scrumptious pubic area, feeling his restless, hardened cock as it tries to free itself from its confinement.

"Why would I mind? It's the 70s after all."

"I dunno. For me, I would probably not go around like that, but then I don't have the same equipment as you do." That eased the momentary tension as they crossed over the semi-green grassy backyard.

Gloria smirked, "Oh, thank goodness. Marc, I do like your equipment, and I can't wait for you to show me more of it. I'm from Missouri, or didn't you know that?"

He was sensing increasing oxytocin levels, expecting possible connubial interaction. "Oh, that's right, you are a student transplanted from the 'show me' state. How clever of you to admit it and to show me such too."

"Marc, there is much more to me than I can uncover. I'm pretty sure you will approve of my one and only birthday suit."

His mind was swirling with many ribald thoughts. His cock jerked a solid response, anticipating what might enhance their relationship. "Let's get you fixed up first with my first aid, ointments."

He paused in front of the doorway leading down to his apartment's concrete back steps. "Keep your head down. The back door to my place is deceiving, more than you can realize."

She drooped her head and bent her knees accordingly as he ushered her down the narrow hallway, through to the equally small kitchen. "Is it okay for me to stand upright yet?"

"Oops, yes, of course, you can open your eyes too." They passed through the living room to his bedroom and the unmade bed. Oh, that's great Marc, you forgot to make it. "Just a sec, wait right here, on this side. I'll be back and, be careful. You don't need to injure yourself more than you already have."

She noticed the coolness of the downstairs apartment, "No, of course not. I'll stay put and wait patiently for your soothing, healing elixir and touch remedy." She easily sat down on the rumpled sheets, shoulders back, accentuating her frontal appointments.

While Marc was rummaging around in the bathroom medicine cabinet, he heard her ask, "Do you mind if I turn on some music from your radio?" Gloria reached over, not waiting for his answer to turn on the G.E. clock radio.

"No, go right ahead. The local radio station is mellow enough. Thank you for thinking of it. I'll be there shortly." He continued searching, finally locating both vitamin E and Aloe Vera gel in the lower rear corner of the mirrored cabinet, announcing, "Yeah, found it."

Gloria was busy swaying back and forth to the music, forth in rhythmic movements to the gentle undertones of pleasurable vibrations. She looked up, smiling as he moved closer to her. The warmth of body heat radiated between them. Even before he touched her, she mentioned, "My, my, my, I feel your heat Marc, or is it just me?"

"I think maybe it's the nearness of both our bodies' energy, combined. Now, turn around, please." He lowered down and gently pressed salve on her worst looking welt, finding an intrusive thorn, and removed it.

Gloria's entire body spasmodically jerked, "Oww! That stings! What was that?"

"Just a little horny thorn, sticking you inappropriately. There was only the one though."

She quickly came to realize a soothing sense of release from it. "Oh, thank God, Marc. I don't more of those horny-thorns sticking me where it feels inappropriate." She chuckled, You know what I mean, right?"

He began applying the gel first to the many welts, "From the bottom of you pretty little pea picking heart, as Tennessee Ernie Ford might say?"

She asked almost innocently, "What is it you have on, Marc?"

With an obviously directed thought, he called attention to what he was feeling. "I have a hard-on, but I didn't think you could tell so soon."

Gloria chuckled, "You rascal you. Here I am in your apartment, helpless me and at your mercy. I promise you this: you are to be amply rewarded for your considerable efforts. Fix me up rightly first, and I'll do what I can to return the favor."

His hands moved expertly, gently bringing soothing comfort into her most obviously angry pronounced areas or concern. "Well, all right then. Try not to move too much."

Each time he touched an angry-looking area, she grimaced first, then felt the healing begin. "I can't believe you are adept at this."

Her many and more painful spots subsided. "What you are doing seems to help cool my back, Marc. You have a magic touch."

Little did either realize that was part of his desire to help heal her wounds.

Marc concentrated, solely focusing, affirming, each area that I touch, warm healing permeates into the offensive wound. Soothing, loving healing is occurring. His astral essence was sending white healing light rays to penetrate her being, bringing out the redness that prompting a speeding up of healing to occur. A golden glow surrounded, enveloping both Marc and Gloria, quickly and magically in healing modalities.

The mellow music from the local radio station added to bring forth tonal healing vibrations.

Then the last song changed to a different, more jungle-like rhythm, primal.

Marc felt a nudge in his nether region announcing the beginning of an intense erotic feeling. Something enlarged again, wanting release from the confines of his green Bermuda shorts.

Gloria, already feeling his gently caressing touch, moved to lie across the bed on her side. His chest grazed the back of her butt cheeks as he reached over for more salve for her. Her exposed breasts were happily being looked over by his alluring eyes. All that separated full nudity was the tiny bikini as the fabric rubbed against Gloria's inner thighs.

Thankfully, a three-foot stuffed Egyptian Cobra had been removed earlier and was safely stored away in the laundry area, near Marc's attempt with fermenting beer, otherwise shit would have hit the proverbial fan and horny Marc would be have been subjected another to a possible horrific scream--that and the sudden loss of a beautiful college coed from his proximity.

Gloria felt his thighs graze against her, sending electrically tingling currents up and down her spine from the toes to her neck. As Marc continued with his deliberate ministrations, she couldn't help but ask, "Marc, how do I compare to your Playmate wall collage?"

It caught him off guard; maybe I should have removed them along with the cobra? Why does that make me feel guilty? He was not confident how to answer and remained silent, shrugging his shoulders.

He stopped soothing her soft resilient flesh. Her upright breasts bounced as Gloria turned towards him, knowingly. "I think it as an interesting thought. Really now, Marc, dear, how do I measure up?"

He looked straight into her bright blue eyes, "Without a doubt, you measure up nicely."

He absentmindedly moved his nimble oily fingers, feeling sexually pleasurable movements, this time around her full breasts, watching as her swelling pinkish buds perked up to prominent hardness.

His eyes glared with anticipation. "The ones on the wall in the other room are for imagination and speculative purposes only."

He grinned wistfully, "Now, even decidedly better than those on the wall, plus these, you are so willingly allowing me to caress and touch, are in my hands."

Two fingers tweaked lightly one nipple then the other. "Mmm, Marc, you have a magic touch. Do you realize what you are doing?" Gloria arched upwards, her back now anticipating his fiery breath.

She brought her hands to his head - the one above his shoulders - urging him to evaluate her prizes from a much closer perspective. His other head was throbbing, consistent and in harmony.

His eager mouth gingerly places sinuous lips on both hard nipples simultaneously. Her first sensuous, severe shiver announced more to come.

Pub: 25 Dec 2020 10:25 UTC
Views: 260