Spookiness
“I mean, it is Halloween night. I want to be thrilled a little. Just not actually in any kind of danger? You know? No harm. Only charm.”
“So you want me to scare you-“ he rolled his eyes, I was almost sure of it, “but not mean it and not hurt you?”
“Dude- I never want to be hurt. But a little fake danger might be fun. To role play? You know? Like a pirate and her captive? Or a creature from the woods and a sexy damsel who is kick-ass and maybe slightly over powered.” I wanted… more. Darker… but cuter and sweeter too. Maybe that was weird.
I also wanted my forever, but this dude…
This dude guy… Ugh.
I blew out my breath, feeling bewilderment and melancholy that once again, I was reaching toward a future party of ONE. Because I kept reaching for unavailable partners. Emotionally, mentally and so dang especially- physically. Intimacy? Uhh, hah! I adjusted my sassy purple nightie. I’d already stripped off my Ripley costume from the movie Aliens. He hadn’t shown up to binge spooky movies and snuggle while eating pizza. And when he was around, he wouldn’t even cuddle or hold hands. Like, seriously, what use was he? None whatsoever.
“I don’t think so. I don’t play.”
“Tell me about it. That has become rather evident. But I want to play.” He blew out a breath, I thought I could hear his jaw click.
“Then you need a new play friend, Mad. It’s not me. I want you pregnant, barefoot, cleaning my kitchen and toilets. Making lasagna from scratch. Wearing thrifted clothes while I spend every dollar on myself and my hobbies. Whenever I want. And I’ll mess stound on you too. Just sayin.”
“You’re a fooking loon. Stop calling me Mad. I’m Madaline or Maddie. You know, or rather, you must not, because- if you did, I wouldn’t feel it necessary to explain to you—“
“You’re being super judgey, Mad. It’s my divine right to rule over my women. Keep them- keep her…how I see fit..”
“Judgey? I’ll fooking judge you to hell you flipping arse. Nothing about you screams out that you care about women. You just want to control one, but not in a equal rights way. Nor a sexy, edging or roleplay way. Women- any woman, partner, friend or wifer for lifer- they aren’t just some indentured servant, alive to do your blasted bidding. Or be your street urchin from some fooked up man-sphere, fiction-fuction. Don’t you get it?”
“Obviously not.”
“Well. Get lost then, you twat waffle!” I felt a hot flash coming on and I had no more time to waste on an imbecilic bro dude. “I’m not your flipping Uterine Slave. Clean your own fricking toilet! Get a skill, and a brain, ya Cunt!”
I clicked my phone off. What a beast. How did I not see what a total festering turd bisket that man was? I took a deeper breath and slowly released it, trying to ground myself. And then I did it again. Deep breath in. and slowly exhaling as I sat with heavy feelings.
My second spring, as menopause was sometimes referred to in Japan, had begun tearing away structures which used to seem impossible to be rid of or rend away. Yet each new day showed me how much of my modern world was false and fake. Forced. I knew something was wrong- had been wrong all this time, especially since I was eight years old, but it took my transition into my wise years to finally call it what it was.
A trap.
A trick.
A prison.
A cage.
But I was no longer going to choose into the structures.
And there in lie my power.
I could choose.
And so I would.
I would choose being free.
I would choose a life-mate when the cosmic timing was just so. All aligned and brilliant.
I would choose to thrive.
I would choose pleasure and laughter.
Sweetness and spookiness.
I yearned for what I didnt quite know, but in my imagination, I knew it was out there. Even on Halloween.
Maybe especially on Halloween.
I turned over, frustrated and annoyed that it was this ridiculously vexing to contine trying to find my forever. A forever friend who would play with me, and have fun with me, and ALL the things. And in my second spring, I wasn’t going to waste my breaths with a brute of a flesh skeleton.
I sighed, blocked him, deleted his number, yanked my large gel ice pack against my chest, curling up to hug myself and promptly fell asleep. He was already forgotten. Zap. Gonzo. For fooking relief’s sake.
“But don’t actually SCARE me. Just a little teasing spookiness. You know? A tiny fright. Not anything that would make me wet my undies. Okay?” I turned away from the looming castle on the hill back toward the outer edge of the neon cityscape, pondering if I was actually awake. I knew I’d just said that… on the phone. “Who was I just talking to?”
“Hhhhuh.” A growling hum came from the darkened walkway. Oh frak! I was a woman alone… at night…
I knew better!
I did!
Since I was a wee small girl- I was taught to only venture into safe places. To always, ALWAYS, always be with a buddy. But where was safe anymore? “Where’s my buddy? Huh?” I growled out.
“Hhhhhuuuuu!”
“What?” I was seriously annoyed that he was doing the scary bit while I was purposefully stating it was a No Go. How Dare! And how did he find me? Wait a minute! Where the fook was I?
“Hhhuuuu-“
His deep, guttural, rumble voice was much closer and though the city was far brighter, it’s labyrinthine shape was a perilous predicament. I turned toward the brooding castle, shadowed and looming forbodingly… well umm, forbidden yet entrancing against a full moon sky. I gasped in a startled breath of Deja Vu. Living a little moment over again in the familiarity of its shape and color- so reminiscent of my childhood scrapbook which my cleverly sweet mother had given me. She had made one for each of us four children and gifted them to us on Christmas Eve. Mine was a castle, framed in purple, whose enchantment had quickly delved deeply into my heart and my hopes. “Why wouldn’t I want to rush from danger toward a castle on a frightening night?”
“HUHuuu!””
“Eeepp!” I squeaked, jumping aside and reaching for my whistle, but not quickly enough, or sadly, far enough. Plus my whistle was no longer neon orange but clear and sparkly. “Hmm, that’s odd.” I spoke to myself, still evading his outstretched arms.
My last recourse was to blow my breath in his face, hoping the lingering but intense scent of black licorice was a terrible deterrent to him and his soon to be squashing me.
I felt like I was barely moving, in that frustrating dream kind of way, like my body girgot how to run, and too quickly his beefy arms were already holding me tightly against his chest. Hugging my bare skin to his bare everything above his waist. My voluptuous breasts squishing mightily against his nicely chilled torso.
Oh my. I sighed. That felt rather loverly.
Like my favorite fancy black gel ice pack for migraines, direct from the freezer. But waaay huge-r and vibrate-y.
“Mmm niiiice and coooool.” My hot flash calmed under his icy touch as he caressed his chilly blissy fingers over my bare shoulders. Blast and feck. But oh my! In that moment, I was so relieved I finally gave up wearing t-shirts to bed and instead bought a weeks worth of barely there nighties, just enough fabric to support my heavy breasts and cover most of my full tooshie and the tops of my strong, thick thighs. Trying to sleep while my body mega-heated and burned was torture!
Cool was all I craved.
I finally felt his icy fingertips trailing along my shoulder to my arm, down, down and back up my side, skimming his way to my right breast where he directly found and pinched my taut nippy nip. The naughty beast. But oh, now I was craving more than cool. It felt so delightful and darkly thrilling to have my body strummed so exquisitely by an expert. As he revered my flesh and ignited my spirit.
“Ooooh ooo, mmmph.” I moaned, shocking myself to find that coy thing that I was, I pressed closer to his hand, seeking and wanting his chilly, pleasurably hot touches. Like his skin and temperature were made to counteract my current Konenki temperatures and symptoms. My Second Spring. I was more the wiser, but I also knew my body better and knew I wanted to allow myself to wander and risk. To chase this feeling with him. Between us. To grasp this opportunity. To also grasp his dick. Cuz hello? Why not? Why wouldn’t I want to figure out what he kept hidden and harmless in the absolute only clothing he wore? Mm hmm. His mysteriously humanoid britches.
My Monster’s britches.
“Mmm. Sexy britches.” My pussy quivered, at the teasing pressure and zinging pain of his nip nip pinches. I wanted to pass my palm over his pants, cupping his man meat just so, saying hello and how do you do? Make friends with it. Er- I mean him. I blinked long and hard a few times. His other glorious hand had traveled down my belly, deliciously skimming heated skin to lightly cup my pussy, claiming me. It. Who cared? I booped it into him, pressing closer, urging him to be bold. I wanted his bold hold. His boldness. My boldness. My body matching up against his everywhere it mattered. Fitting snug and hot. Wet and squelching. I wanted it all!
Including his Castle.
I giggled, pondering if I was truly awake or if I would wake from a delicious dream and feel bereft of my person…and my castle.
