Fifteen Minutes Of Normalcy

by

Theresa Cecilia Garcia

*Warning:Explicit Sexual Content*

Beneath the darkness, mists and shadows seemed to be gathering on all sides. Grotesque and fantastic shapes, omens of chaos, confusion, pestilence, pain and disorder, threats of madness. Strange company from another world.

I almost knocked the drink out of her hand, she was so petite, hot with passion, cute round ass. As the clock ticked so did our blood alcohol level. I blinked once and found myself curled around a pole receiving dollar bills from three feet below.The sounds of drums and pipes, snatches of wild songs bursting through the company of players, strangely bedazzled, dancing a furious measure to hurrying music. In front of me, a reflection of my mere insanity. Her name wasn't important. She didn't play word games and I loved the way she blushed as my tongue enjoyed teasing the prickly princess.We're all under pressure and she was my comfort food.

I blinked again and woke up to her high pitched wails as my fingers retreated inside her delicate femininity.Her voice had a smoky timbre that blended well with dimly lit bars and self made battlefields . Hands over currency, more sex on the beach, please. Fluffy pink, purple, red, clouds revolving about my peripheral vision. I blinked again, we were pinned up against the mirror dancing off-balance, our lips touching, biting, sucking ,exploring and I imagined myself back on stage, center-stage, laying on a female with fans roaring behind me. The audience arced , climaxing with us. The clock's hands were moving as slow as mine, the surfacing sweat was moist. Wishful thinking had gone wild.

The next time I woke up was somewhere around Mercer Street on the edge of an abandoned warehouse turned loft,when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded " when he had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest.
There's something really sexy about being in a public place when you're hot for cock. Erotic, Sensual. What's on your mind,the feelings inside your body are so different than the polite aires one exhibits to the masses, but this was the village,West 4th street on a Sat. night and no rules applied. He's leaning up against a cool brick wall and I'm watching him watch me. My black leather mini dress and fishnet hose-garter belt exposing the fact I'm not wearing any underwear . I press up against him so he comes closer between my legs. I never hesitate as he lifts my blouse up and pulls the skirt down by my hips pouring the golden beer into my belly button while he begins licking and sucking me there. We switch places .I unbutton and unzip his pants pouring the remaining beer into his belly button as I began to lick and suck until he got excited. I reached into his pants and pull out a very hot and hard cock. A cock dripping with pre-cum. I had to taste him. I sucked and licked,!

he tasted so good. The pre-cum was flowing from the tip of his cock and got even harder. Obscure mazes and byways displayed an assiduity,surveying the passers-by with undisguised curiosity . Resurrections, reflections, deplorable appeal for alms.

There was a hush in the world when when I awoke again. I could see the back the houses of the next street rising against the wall of an old city and as I looked the sun rose.
I wandered in a diner where two male individuals in their early twenties sat at the counter. One asks for a beer and slides the waitress his identification. The other asks for water, then after receiving it, orders a cheeseburger deluxe well done . Fifteen minutes of normalcy pass, then immediately declines. I was hearing moaning; moans you'd usually only witness the mentally ill reciting resounding in my head. I could smell blood , flesh, and perfume. A loud crash, moaning still going on in the background, in my mind as I collapsed on the floor. A waitress picks up the phone in a hurry .I over-hear the phone call, "This is John's Diner we need an officer..."

I was pacing, rotating about the chairs I had thrown previously. Salt, pepper and napkin dispensers were tackled. I was reacting to a heroin and cocaine overdose. I'm asking out loud to no one in particular, "do you have any candy? any candy? I need some candy, do you have any?"

(a beat)

"What do you know about the murder?"

I take two breaths from my cigarette and reply,"Who said anything about murder?"

"Obviously your acting abilities have improved. Did you tell her you loved her, right before you killed her?"

I brought the cigarette back up to my lips and puffed, ignoring the question and avoiding his gaze looking straight ahead, passed him, back in time. Reminiscence.

"Wasn't Kyle shot with an 11 mm gun?"

"Who?" Her name wasn't important.She was so petite, hot with passion, cute round ass.
"No,9 mm" ,I respond.

"Get your act together, Sarah. The commissioner wants a full report. He lost his daughter tonight and wants to know who did it. The case is under investigation."

I sniffled,"Yes." "So let me do my job, okay?"

I rested my head against the desk that housed my computer back at the precinct. In that short time I could practically hear the gears turning in my pragmatic, methodical , meticulous mind once again as I began typing the report to the commissioner .

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Near Where The River Meets The Sea
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

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