Splattering Yet Endearing Part 1

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Summary

Widowing is a fatal disease, targeting and killing one person in every impacted couple. No treatments exist, or a solution, or survivors. Some think if Widowing targets one gender…intentionally. Porma needs to move in with someone. Iteni, his high school crush, allows him to move with her. He’s stoked to get to be with her. So what if no one know how to spot Widowing? Porma can possibly get with Iteni! He has multiple odd jobs to do too, as he seeks romance and adventure at his new Maine home. Iteni’s been biting herself though. In the bathroom, leaving teeth marks on her skin. She wants to talk about her hand marks, and get help.

Genre:
Romance / Drama
Author:
superphily
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
1
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
18+

Chapter 1

Splattering Yet Endearing

By Philip Yang

Dedication: To all of the people I have been close with from 2011-2021, I wish them well. To my friends and family. Also to the inspirations and influences from those years.

Acknowledgement - I thank those who have supported my writing and those who have kept me well during my writing years. Friends, family, beta readers, online writing communities etc.

Editor’s Note: I probably messed up how to use some types of dashes. Bite me. I also messed up the punctuation of action beats that go with dialogue.

[There’s songs in this that I will delete in the final version of this writing.]

Introduction: This story is fiction and contains dangerous actions. The author does not advise or recommend any of the actions in the story to be freely replicated by readers. Please consider safety before attempting to imitate any segment of the story. The story contains explicit, adult content and is intended for adult readers only (18+). It is not recommended to look at the Internet or friends for spoilers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dialogue is bold. Dialogue generally alternates between speakers on every new dialogue line, unless otherwise indicated.

Signage are bold too.

---

I have been an adult for a few years now.

My life, as I know it, has completely changed because of this girl.

This wonderful, perfect girl.

I had nowhere to go, three months ago.

Iteni had the extra space, so I moved in with her. I changed my name, to Porma.

I need to escape my past.

Our relationship was, less than the usual. You could say we were acquaintances. Every night was calmer than the day.

It was calmer than calm—as I write this down now for myself.

We slept in the same bed. She only had one queen bed in her home, and we could never conclude on who would sleep alone. It was the most awesome bed ever.

We shared a bed. We shared a car. We shared a bathroom.

We shared a home.

We always found ways to work together. The blatant isolationism between us became a lie in public areas.

I always tried to avoid her mute and detached mood, by reading the latest Newsmonth. Another outbreak of AIDS-2 in Florida. All of my old college classmates were stuck there.

Many, many—many bodies found themselves in the ocean over the past month. Whether the choice came by conscious will or not, I tried not to worry over it.

I was sitting on her living room sofa, on a fairly sunny and quiet day. She sat down next to me.

Iteni: Hey.

I turned my head to meet Iteni’s brown eyes and her shining, sunlight-yellow hair.

Porma: Hm? seeking and targeting her face.

Iteni: What’s up? Her eyes stared absolutely at me.

Porma: Not much, just trying to relax for work tonight. My forehead was full of sweat. Hottie.

Iteni: About that.... Can you tell them I won’t be there? I have to go see a doctor.

Porma: Oh, for—

Iteni: Yeah—

Porma: I can go too—

Iteni: No, you have to work. Her curious stare aimed at my pupils.

Porma: I’ll be fine, trust me.

She tilted her head slightly and focused her eyes a little more on me. I patted her on the shoulder, and turned away.

I hope you’re doing okay...

Silence.

Me too.

Even though Iteni was just sitting there, I felt like her hand was gripping my heart, like it was a vertical handle bar for train passengers. Her dark eyes and gorgeous, long hair gripped me anyways.

I left her living room. One lone set of stairs led down to her basement bedroom.

It was simplified and boastful. Everything in the room had a purple tint. More space, less clutter.

Meaning the room had a dresser, two mirrors, and a bed. A large goose down coated the massive bed—that sat right in the middle of the room.

Boxy stereo speakers sat next to her bed, playing gentle pop. I tapped the music volume up, and sank into the fabric. It was soft, yet just a bit roughened by its cheap material.

Some windows peeked outside.

Iteni makes me so damn nervous...it’s completely unfair.

She makes my bones and heart ache for her so much.

It’s impossible to avoid humping her each night—but I respect her heavenly body.

She’s such a considerate, hot, pretty, kind girl. She’s the girl all girls should look up to.

Such a goddess...goddamn.

We stepped outside on the following cloudy afternoon, around a fall drenched with flailing leaves and a partly cloudy breeze. Kids often played in piles of raked leaves, on our street.

In our driveway was a cobalt blue Americross Code. A four-door car topped with a rounded design.

Circular roof, circular windows. Very 20th century but with the small look of a fast, sporty coupe.

Leaves glided around and on top of the car. They danced and weaved with an easy grace, just as our clothes and hair followed the wind. Iteni had a nice smile on her face.

Time had unwoven Iteni, a college dropout, just like me. She told me it was merely to focus on writing a book.

She was a better roommate than either of my split parents—I guess. Even her walking was gorgeous.

On the short drive, I asked about the paper. Her paper, in the kitchen. Maybe for the book she wanted to write.

Iteni: I was just writing to my pen pal, Prazzi. Her hands cradled the wheel.

Porma: Hm, sounds like a nice name.

Iteni: Yeah, she ice skates in Greenland mountain lakes. Soothing—deep voice.

That’s cool.

I knooow and she—

Hey.

What is it?

She drove down the road, as I placed my hand on her shoulder, smiling with spirit. Just, because. Her eyes glanced at me—before pushing back onto the road. Her hair shook a second slower as she kept driving.

I sat in the waiting room as Iteni discussed with the hospital’s front desk. I had nothing to do but stare at the small flat-screen TV hanging in the corner of the room. The female staff were way more receptive to Iteni anyways. Women didn’t even want to sit near me in the waiting room.

There was a news report about the sudden social shifts since Widowing became a thing.

Male TV Anchor: Widowing, a severe infection that is being compared with cancer. It affects only couples, according to research from the Center of Disease Control. Iteni got so cold and distant—after the spike in Widowing in New England.

It felt overdone—but, marriages started to become rentals. A true marriage was becoming irrelevant and the new system of essentially hooking up became more popular.

One state was testing out a ten month trial period. Tied to an existing drivers license, you could marry and then renew it as desired. Every other state was, dumb, enough to have feminists argue over misogynists.

Many simply opted for long term relationships, ignoring the prototype marriage lease system.

I was still a guy.

Everyone was getting new marriages, and life insurance.

The insurance also covered ozone cracks, when the sun blasts and burns on roofs and cars.

Male TV Reporter: Too many know too few who have not cheated-after-death. Women are carrying knives and men keep roses in their pockets. For single people, it’s go big or nothing nowadays. Despite the strong, continued interest in dating, birth rates and marriage rates are down significantly in the US this quarter, according to federal research.

A black man with a dark hoodie, and an uncovered head, appeared onscreen.

Black Man: Yeah man. Vapor escaped his breath, If you want a kid with someone, most are willing—at the beginning. Marriage is pretty useless. I’ve seen many couples enter a building and leave separated.

The TV cut to a tired woman with alert eyes. Maybe in her early 40s,

Middle Aged Blonde Woman: No one is a killer. We have to get along, as friends. I mean, cheating should be punishable by death but—that’s no reason to target women. We don’t need to be called the weaker link.

Black Man: Ey. Like, just don’t stay close to her for too long dawg. Everyone believes in sex. Sex—ahahahahaaaaa. Ey man. A few hours is still enough to make love.

My gut dropped. A rich layer of gleaming, yellow hair swept past my eyes—with a curious and neutral glare. It was so unbelievably wonderful—sitting down next to me—as I expressed blankness.

Her hair was like stands of literal gold.

Gravitation was not responsible for that moment.

The estimated Widowing death toll showed on the TV. The pain...the suffering...the absolute uncertainty and fear of such a presence...

No one believed in dying. But no one could stop the sudden, random deaths—Iteni whispered, Porma, tucking some hair behind her ear as she looked at me. Do you remember what number our house is?

I looked down at my arm rest, 14. Her one story house with a basement, in this Maine suburbia.

Thankss. She flashed a white smile at me.

I smiled a tint as my eyes glided back to the news. She was the only girl that wanted to talk to me in this city.

Doctors were arguing over whether Widowing was a disease, or a disorder.

The only thing most knew, including me, was that it killed fast.

Reminded me of a movie I saw, about a man who was sent to protect the last pregnant woman in the world.

There were all kinds of competing arguments about the cause of Widowing. No one knew how it even started.

Woman: Iteni?.... Ih-ten-eee? My high school crush...

She stood up. I looked at the back of her head as she looked back to me.

I stood up.

I followed her and the female nurse. I followed her through the usual check up process. Staff and customers were paired same-sex now.

What a babe...absolutely stunning and beautiful.

I still had feelings for her.

But something beyond me was controlling Iteni’s attention.

Before all of this doctor crap, I always smiled at the myriad of health and hair care products in her bathroom. She diligently applied them every morning. At her sink. At home.

I always let her get up and leave the bedroom—before I used the bathroom. She would give small flicks of her blinking eyes every morning, before getting out of bed.

She would turn away and tie her hair while I used the toilet.

It was a lovely start.

Iteni sat down in a chair, sticking her left arm out for the check up nurse.

I could not help but stare at her. She looked like a Hollywood star of the past. Gleaming, dark eyes conveyed whimsical feminine curiosity.... A very grand, yet hometown sensibility in her oval hair. Consolidated sweetness was tucked close to her quiet head, behind her ears. I knew deep inside myself that I was stuck in my own past. Staring at the past was good though.

Before I let my eyes make too much contact with hers, I bent my head down as I stood beside her and the nurse.

The aura between us used to be smoother than her pure, pale, night skin.

Some nights I would wake up and hear Iteni weeping inside the bathroom, next to our bed. She cried and sniffed sometimes too.

I would look up at the ceiling of her dark bedroom, as she hid in her bathroom and did her thing.

There were lots of marks all over her hands recently, after those bathroom visits. Maybe...teeth marks.

I didn’t ask her about the hand marks at all.

I tried to hold her hand earlier at lunch today. She took her hand back and thrust her head to her right instead.

My cereal was extra soggy, for that lunch.

She didn’t let me touch her hand...I couldn’t believe it. Her silky, milky, small hand.

In the doctor’s room, I looked at her face.

I have to have a small chat with her. Her eyes looked so tasty—bright.

Porma: So. Did you want to get coffee later?

Iteni: Hm? You never asked to begin with... Gleaming yet full in presence—judgmental, and shiver inducing.

Porma: Well...I did in my head.

And why should that count? I felt her sparking around me.

She started to look all smug. And uppity. My sensation was good. Considering she was about two feet shorter than me, that was a little much—even with her rich voice.

I sank in hiding, melding to gravity and the form of my chair. I wanted to sleep but resolve this. But the female advocate did not desire a bed to sleep on.

Porma: If we live together why can’t we go out together?

Iteni: You know why...

No...I don’t.

I need you to stay at home for the next couple of days, maybe a week. Sigh...

The doctor walked in before the words let out of my teeth. She was a middle aged, curly, black haired woman with square glasses.

She rolled over her office chair and sat facing half a foot away from Iteni. She chewed on gum as she gnawed out,

So hun, what’s the problem?

Damn that was a bit fast.

Iteni receded a bit into her chair, tilting her head down in almost a stern manner. As her spine slowly curled, grooves formed on her shirt.

Sigh. I’m not sure. I...I’ve been biting myself.

Doc: Mmhm...do you feel any stress at all?

Iteni: No. Unless I don’t do it for awhile.

Anything bothering you in your life, work....

Nope.

Has this become a habit?

It only started a few days ago.

The doc looked up from her clipboard. Pointing the pen back and forth at us,

A couple?

Iteni looked at me, then to the doctor a few times, explaining,

No, no. Uh, we just live together. We’re roommates.

Pregnant?

No.

Have either of you taken the new antibiotics?

Iteni looked at me and my eyes bounced all around the room.

Porma: What? a little—unintentionally aggressively.

Doc: Hon, it has some new pheromones. The state is testing this as part of a nationwide series of drug tests.

Iteni leaned forward, waving her hand against the words.

Iteni: I don’t understand. Has it—

Doc: I can’t let your insurance pay for this visit unless you consent.

Her voice went up to a near shriek level. What!

The doc and I looked at her. Her slant, furious eyes snapped. Her eyelids fluttered as she twisted in her seat. I sighed; it did not make much sense to me either. Porma: Come on, it’s not bad. I did not fear her. I knew her better.

She stared at the doorknob, after the doc had already gotten up and reached into a cabinet. Doc pulled out two rolls of clear, carbon paper.

Doc: These, you wear at night.

Doc unraveled them and revealed a basic human outline on each sheet. To me, they just looked like cutouts of the clear paper they put on patients’ beds. She reached down to a shelf that had one of those orange, triangle warning signs. She pulled out two spray cans, which were 20% logo, 80% drug facts.

Doc: You spray this every night. If you get up at night, you have to respray when you come back.

On a counter I did not notice, she pulled away a plastic bag and stuffed the medicine inside for us.

Doc: Do this for two weeks. Understand?

She said that in a do-it, no-buts manner that always pissed me off.

I stood up two seconds before Iteni did, and took it.

Porma: Thanks.

Footsteps, playful pages, and whirring office-ware were all I could hear as we walked through narrow hallways, past the waiting area—to the hospital exit.

As an outdoor chill and windy clouds stole our sleepiness from us, my bubble was gouged and purged of space. I twisted 80 degrees, shivering from momentum from Iteni’s attempted cavity and cut, as it invisibly stretched through me.

Her process reverberated around my body, swishing and slapping air to the top of my forehead. I tilted back from pressure in my head.

My mind pointed to that damn bag. My hands pointed to her shoulder.

Shoes scraped as if we were running on a fabric flying over the ocean, suspended by helicopters.

I swiped up and down, at the bag.

A giant, a gorilla—I came for retribution.

Without much more words, I groaned my way to the Code’s passenger seat.

My seat belt was on and I faced forward. Iteni was pulling on her hair like a reverse waterfall, just outside my door. By her fingers, trying to stroke a stream up her hair, the window went, tap tap snap. My folded arms stayed on my chest.

The car door swung out. She grabbed my arm and forcibly removed me—falling onto her. She rubbed her skirt covered bum while I tangled back into the car.

Some sleepiness hit my brain. Sitting, I stared at nothing.

I am like warmed up clay, stiff yet mushy—and incapable of movement. My brain always had that magical sense of timing—I looked up from my paralyzed slouching. The sun was flaring against autumn trees. Red, orange, yellow, and brown entities swished in conflicting waves.

The leaves must fall; sometime. I could sense—the embodiment of Iteni’s spirit in her hair, which expanded as a fan.

I dared to look, for maybe a short time. It drew on my attention, gracefully yet mysteriously—in a discomforting manner. I felt like she was pretending a knife was a paintbrush, on my back. But I had no control.

I could always handle what I willed. My desire will mean something.

Wondering—

What good and harm she and I were doing.

The insides of the metal, turbo powered, stone colored skeleton were strong with the damned scent of her perfume. Smelling good smells good. But it can also be chemical—and made me—

AchOO.

Bless you. with a feminine, popping tone.

Sniiiiff. You suck. And I mean that. I said that in a moderate manner.

She looked down mystically and through my eyes.

Porma...why did you change your name?

I loved, and hated, when she spoke with such soft curiosity.

Porma: I should ask you the same question.

Iteni: Ooooh, I like that.

Stop trying to grind at my nerves.

I’m sorry. I’m just upset.

Its all right, really. Iteni. The car stopped.

Can I get an answer? As if you can still ask that.

Maybe. Maybe if you were less pushy.

Out of the car, walking to the front door of her home, Iteni constantly looked to me. We slowly made steps of lovers. If I did not already live here, I would have known that I had won. Good thing I brought a condom.

Every taste of emotion she took and maximized, always. So...emotionally vibrant.

The work clothes, accentuating her cleavage and legs, came after me. The barrage of eyelashes, lipstick, hair, her purse, and power sailed over, colliding and bouncing messily on me. I stumbled back and onto the grass, where brittle ground chips collapsed.

I was a monster. My hands will be the supervisor over her body now. Her frail, willing innocence, was coming back to deliver me a court order. A swift and immediate life sentence to a graceless girl with a passion for leaves...that’s her sentence.

I slashed my forearm at her attack and I boasted with strength,

When will you change?

The day you let ME know.

But...

But you don’t even LIKE me.

The leaves ceased, leaving silence. I knew she desired to speak back, but I wanted to escape. My shoes clapped with the help of the brick walkway, and I went inside. Even inside, I heard Iteni,

Grrrrooooooaaaan.

She had that whimper in her voice that suggested a longing.

I bounced to the kitchen—and slapped the front door out and open—to give her a ruler. I hopped to the grassland and stepped up and right to avoid smashing right through her. She had a nice, tight, curved waist that just couldn’t handle much more than what her spine could, an equivalently sized muscle.

Iteni: What’s wrong with you? She spoke in that accusatory, somewhat over exaggerated, displeased tone—mushy and unpleasant like slaw. She needed a D.

Before I even looked back, I had already angered her blood. Blood always runs. It doesn’t stand still. And this kink in between her butt cheeks was bothering me.

An anticipatory urge swept up through my upper body and cleaved into my jaws, filling my face bones with a boiling craving. I knew the shape of her ass, and it was instantly the end of me. Always.

Later that day I walked into the bedroom and she was walking out, with only jeans on, damn! Short shorts would go further to erode my brain.

She kept her head down, but she never bothered herself with my constant presence. She had longer, slender, powerfully potent legs. Their tones reflected off onto the rest of her—as curves from the u-turn up were all perfectly arched. Her hands led soft fingers, with gentleness.

Another day, I sat on her legs while I watched the daily news, Male TV Reporter: Vice President Trenton Fera received a few questions at the all male White House briefing today—and her fleshy cushion was something amazing. It was a comfort that could never be replicated—the sparks that it sent up my lap were arousing. Delightful.

Trenton: We have researched into the recent concern about the rise of deaths among couples. This will not affect even 1% of all American couples. We did a projection for a year out. standing at a podium. Next question. wearing a large, pointy, navy blue suit. I never saw a chest, but her heart, I saw. Flat physically but certainly never ever a flat character. The estimated death rate is not 3 to 12 hours, according to our research. Any questions about my non profit initiative?

Some other day she got a little drunk and clasped her hands over my temples. She proceeded to grin uncontrollably as she tilted both of our heads down and brought them together. But...she...almost did it in a spiritual way. We would touch, then just rock from side to side.

I liked to imagine it as a touch without touching.

My feet drove me past the kitchen and into the bathroom. It had been long enough—I was ready to shower! My body was scrapped of its articles of clothing as I stepped into the shower. Psssssshh! Water spreads out. Stingingly cold and eventually warm enough to sleep with—I stepped in and closed the curtain. The shower space was dim and dismal.

I bowed to accommodate the head of the shower and was humiliated, with thick, wet strands of black hair. I closed my eyes to prevent more pain as I massaged my wrecked scalp into wet, flowery scented suds. The heat overwhelmed my face, and the leased water drips ticked me upon their departure from my face.

I heard her steps announce herself.

Hey, are you in there?

Porma: Yeah, why.

I’m coming in.

Huh? Wait, she already had her two feet in, with her legs to follow. Then, of course, her head and body. Iteni turned back and neatly closed the curtain. My god, the shadow cast on her ass. My mouth was almost gaping, but I kept it shut to avoid swallowing water. Goddamn. Goddamn! I just stared at it and when it grazed against me—hooo baby! She was fucking hot. Ass was tall enough to where its thickness was not so bad. In the dim and cramped conditions, I still knew she could see me. Her waist twisted back to me and I zapped away.

I felt nor heard anything, and I froze. Her hand reached over and picked up the shampoo in pink. Everything was wet, and fleshy. Covered by the rain and the dark, her intimidation was well done. I took the soap bar and erased myself as I hoped we faced away from each other.

My tense senses believed she was ignorant, but logically—she must know for sure. The back of her hand glided me away from the front of the shower as her hair lathered and merged with the falling water. I tried to keep my head down, but my eyes looked. She reminded me of the composite I had always known and desired. Fairly long blonde hair, attuned to a strong face, with a pair of gleaming, dirt pit colored eyes. A happy, enjoyable girl who had peaceful, quiet times. Something about her had so much energy—excited by the greatest of small things. Her subtle chest—for the brush made nice curves. Nice balance. Neck, shoulders, arms, hands, waist, midsection, lowers, and legs.... It was strange; she was tall and short. Tall, in height and character. A tall order—and short in inches and presentation. Imposing in numbers, somehow never in her presence though.

She had a present ass. It was noticeable.

And enough of a punch to the behind curve that added to her figure. She was flat in the front but curved elsewhere—with enough accentuation to make my jaw ache. I was ready.

Her compelling hair, and just plain good face brought me to her eyes all the time. Her legs were long and attractive in their own class. Everything of her slimness worked. Slim. Curves. Bounce. Length, lack thereof and yet, somehow I can’t even dissect why I liked every bit of her. My eyes and mind were stuffed. She could do.

I just wanted to hug her, and feel it, so badly. In court, I would testify that I was simply doing the man’s job for my life. Or, at least encouraging myself to that path with hoorahs and yippees. The wet dampness of fabric, a human, water and artificiality made me turn around—and forget. She saw me, and looked up and down. I only noticed the light and joyful light in her eyes when she smiled.

My feet cringed and slipped against a surface no skin could easily touch. Trembling thanks and leave, I sneaked past her back as she continued to shower. Past the curtain, I was free, open and naked! I sighed a loud sigh—before ripping the towel from its post and making giant steps out of the room. I think I heard her open the curtain.

Laying on the stairs, in a heartbeat, I was downstairs and changing. The cool water dripped down continuously, like tears. It was very easy, out of carelessness, to let water escape me.

My dry clothes merged with my once wet figure. Beyond sitting and drying—Iteni sprinted down the stairs and lunged with her legs at me. I fell to the bed with her collapsing into a similar head rest. She had the best laugh on, with energy, volume and spirit. What need do women have for legs that are their longest body parts?

Laying to the bed, I emphasized the stretch of my muscles, and strangled out,

Hey—turn on the radio.

I did not try to care to treasure her kindness. But I was a straight person; I wanted girls.

Nothing of her—blonde or otherwise—looked for me; her mind chose elsewhere. Even if I could touch her body, she bothered me by facing to another side.

Iteni: Hey.

I raised my arms in anger,

What?

Have you ever heard this song before?

....Oh yeah.

so much I love you

so much I need you

and I can’t stand ya

must everything you do

make me wanna smile

can I not like you from awhile

no

and you won’t let me

you upset me girl

then you kissssss my lips

and all of a sudden I forget

that I was upset

can’t remember what you did

but I haaaaaate

you know exactly what to do

so that I can’t stay mad at you for too long

that’s wrong

but I haaaaaaaate

you know exactly how to touch

so that I don’t want to falsify you more

so that I despise that I adore you

and I haaaate how much I love you boy

I can’t stand how much I need you

I need you

and I hate how much I love you boy

but i just can’t let you go

and I hate that I love you so

ooh

you completely know the power that you have

the only one that makes me laugh

that’s nothing, how you take advantage of the fact that I

love you beyond the reason why

and that just ain’t right

and I hate how much I love you girl

I cant stand how much I need you

and I hate how much I love you girl

but I just can’t let you go

and I hate that I love you so

one of these days maybe your magic won’t affect me

and your kiss will make me weep

but no one in this world knows me the way you know me

so you’ll probably always

have a spell on me

yeeeaaaaaaayyyy

oooohhh

so much I love you

so much I need you

so much I love you

so much I need you

and I hate that I love you

soooooooo

and I hate how much I love you boy

can’t stand how much I need you

and I hate how much I love you girl

but I just can’t let you go

and I hate that I love you so

and I hate that I love you

sooo

soooooooo-ooooo-o

Everything was happening so fast, skipping along at an inhuman speed. She collapsed onto my shoulders and laughed through her rooted, awkward feelings. My body and hers scraped to the point where we were on fire, rubbing like two separate, abstaining logs. The slow song had no handling with Iteni, nor me. Her wet, soapy, captivating hair chewed about my mouth as I told her to calm down. So much skin contact. I hated how crazy lusty she was.

The platonic galaxy could have had a big bang, however, we bounced up and down and up and down on the bed instead. I wanted to sleep—but she was singing—and my hands were my headrest.

She fell off the bed and I laughed at her as she collided onto me and we both rolled off—to the carpeted floor. She laughed—I cried dramatically against her happiness. She stared and smiled before the end of the song, and I grabbed her hair. Scream, yank, obsession, running, kitchen, falling, mocked—I passionately decreed,

What do you know about hate and love? standing somewhere in the home.

Cough cough. Come on Porma, you know. also standing, near me.

No, I don’t.

Well, you did. with basic clothes on.

When? I never remembered.

She brought herself two inches away me. I lagged. Frozen by a human defect and leak in emotional reasoning, I turned myself into a two second difference from her. Fuck her and her speed. Running through tight corners upstairs, I struggled to keep my traction stable. It was not a breeze; it was like a gust. I hoped her undergarment was flying up.

There was nothing wrong. I knew because Iteni always had a dissecting look that could diagnose me instantly. Kind of cool.

Eyes, hers, looked interested—ly to me, fifteen feet down—the window next to the backdoor. Kitchen. I made like an underdog wrestler onto the green grass and stray leaves outside. She was stuck at the end of the backyard, blocked off by bushes and trees. I could read a mix of curiosity, patience, intentions, and judgment on her face. Her head was facing me with an open mouth, and without a strategy. Her waist was twisted, legs ready to run more. Somehow, she dared to stare at me.

Porma: What a pathetic joke.

Iteni stared at me, undisturbed by buzzing nor chirping. How dare she. Porma, calm down.

I sprinted towards her, but I had that slight mental delay a woman gives when a man tries to do something that will alter their relationship. She ran adjacent to the edge—of—yard. By the time we reached the road, the rain was going. The clouds made it dark yet they teased light.

Running down the road as splashes threatened me and I could not even look ahead, I muttered quietly,

Damn her and her strange ways.

It can’t be safe to be out here like this. When will I catch up to that sexy whoring bitch fucker slut.

My hair was damp, the moisture on my clothes was eerie, and I couldn’t see. All of my nerves were on fire and alerted to this bullshit and the constant handicaps and discomfort and hopelessness. I can’t, even, catch, up.

Porma: Stop GODDAMNNIT.

We nearly crashed into each other. She looked insanely graceful—fertile. Standing. On this wide, paved road lined with dead model houses, I felt their grayness. I started to lose my light and I ignored her on purpose. A mushy pile of clothing lied on the curb and Iteni looked to me expectedly. In the indescribable, dim light of the clouds and the sun, she gave a stern, sexy look. Her hair wrinkled down and around her head, sticking to her skin as drops traveled every body part she did not hide. She kept her arms at her side, and let the rain platter onto her head and on her clothes—her jeans, T-shirt, undies and socks. I followed her example and stood, facing as spiritual equals, together. I did not have an erection, but she still looked over for a split second. The chatter of rainfall did not cease, they danced along the pavement as I felt myself trying to shiver. But...she was making me blush.

She finally smiled.

Porma: What’s so funny...

She turned to her side and down, almost hiding in her hand. The flopping hair did not help to improve my strength.

Sigh. Hahaha. I’m sorry, no, it’s just, it’s just that I can’t believe you followed me.

I...I was worried for your safety, timidly.

Aren’t you cold?

I waited and thought for a freezing second, No, why don’t you tell me—I can’t SEE in this shit.

She just stood there.

Porma: Why did you stop here anyways?

I didn’t know it would rain.

Well....you’re still dumb.

Oh, you big meanie.

You know, we’re gonna get in trouble for this...

I thought you could have used another shower, you looked a little rushed earlier.

I kept my mouth closed.

You know, don’t you.

Mmm...I don’t claim to know or not know anything.

I gave her a frown, partially frustrated.

She looked down at my arm, then up, as if her head was her hand. Iteni: Come on, let’s go walk. A shock rocked my spine.

I pause, No offense, but isn’t this a little...unusual.

Iteni was already walking, but she turned around and looked at me, waiting. I stood fixed, unsure but of to follow her. The whole place felt dark and gray, but my butterflies wanted to fly. I nearly moaned, and cried out amid my pain. Something, some sense, made me not trust her. I wanted to cry, and join the legion of tears, falling down from the clouds. I looked down and wrapped my lips inside my mouth. Her face showed a tint of tangerine regret. My wet, cold fingers wrapped up together. I knew she was smiling, before I looked up.

My eyes closed and I treasured this moment.

Wonderful moment.

Iteni smiled at me, her glossy lips made me numb to the naked sensation of her wet face for a few seconds. Everything she did—I was amazingly calm. Just as if her hands glittering around, made me calm. I think as we faced each other, we put our hands on each other at the same time. She was absolutely lovely. Possibly temporary loveliness.

Sigh. I guess this is fun.

Iteni: Hey, buddy...

What, is it my sweetness?

Her eyes were gliding around me, up and down, Hey...

Bitch—ssshhh.....

Por-ma.

I looked up, in surprise. Almost. Hey blondie.

Pormaaaaa...lelelelele.

Wha, sleepy, oh. Heeeeey sexyyyyy.

Our faces beamed brightly with smiles. Sirens started blaring while we looked down the road. It stopped and we were coerced inside by medically suited androids.

The towels were red and dried us down as rough corner after sudden stop kept reminding us. Of what, I did not care.

We sat side by side, shoving each other around, bursting with pride. They took our vitals and the names and the address...there were no windows for us.

Gray must have turned to dark as we were pushed in and out of hospital offices. I knew deep down that it was hard for them to treat us like people. The best they could do was talk to us two kids.

Why trust the hospital? Neither of us had our wallets on us and we were too cheap and—

Iteni: Thppp-ppppp-ppppp! as a nurse tried to grab, touch and examine her in a bed, propped above the ground.

Female Doctor: Excuse me! Young lady!

Porma: Oh my god, I love you. in the same bed as her. Fuck work—

Iteni: I love you too.

Mmmm--mmpp---mm--mmmmmm! our lips rub maniacally—together.

The towels which bounded us, they just made me hornier. Whatever they were made of and from—they started to smell after 30 seconds.

Sitting on a bench in a hallway as we seesawed each other just simply began to tear at me, through my veins, muscles, arteries, organs. Just, scrape off a huge slice from my upper body, and I wouldn’t have noticed.

The staff were done with us. Man, I don’t know what’s—

Iteni: Hey. close and direct to me.

What? We’re almost outta here. walking down a large, white hallway.

Let’s go in here.

Uhh.

The family restroom was kind of ironic, but I didn’t want to fall over so I took after her hand—which grabbed onto me anyways. Oh damn, they’re—

In a place where nothing is making sense, I barely registered her fingertips on my leg and my dick after she peeled off our towels. Standing inside the room, the fan was on and whirring all the other noises away. She spit on it once and spread her spit around it once as her inner mouth massaged my testicles. My mind was frozen, my eyes locked hard onto her face. Her eyes...were patient and soft. Her suction weaved between mushy and earnest tugging. She only adjusted her hair twice, but she fidgeted about 500 fuckworthy times—that stupid cunt. She kept kissing my head after taking 90-95% dick every time. Oh, she kissed all over it and I just forgot and went,

Ahh. AHHHH. Aaaaaahhh....ah.....ahem. Fucking....damn...oh.

The pacing was super, as if she knew the good times to excite me, maintain me, tease me. My emotions almost cried from the come suppression; I held onto her shoulders. Iteni nudged onto me and hugged me. Her eyes looked blank and straight, absent. My head tilted up, nearly fainted.

Sometime after, she held herself down for 30 seconds, the whole way down. My grunts grew, angry grunts. She did stop, and licked straight off the sides before she finalized on my head again. All she did, was suck that one part. What the fuck. She started moaning and gesturing her eyes to me. Her hand went up and fixed her forehead’s hair while her other hand took my right one.

She stopped, and roughly sucked it to death. I lost my footing—and almost shoved the ready section into her mouth. Looking but facing to my hand, she twisted one hand around the main base and squeezed—while her mouth turned to tickle it. Following a pattern, she twisted and tickled but sucked, and stressed her forehead. Her head rotated from side to side, and the pure physical encouragement was just, too much. Most of it went in, but some hit the side of her lips. I closed my eyes. I really wanted a seat to rest on.

I tried to forget.

I hid my head.

Iteni: God, you take forever.

I opened back up. She smiled and got up, patting my shoulder.

I smiled back. I was happy.

Just, happy.

I stared and elevated my sense of living. Deep, wondrous brown pods, sticky, and muddy, soothed me. My hands extended to cradle her, but my arms shook. As they reached over, I retreated them—disgusted. Pondering in reflection was supposed to earn...sympathy. Instead, she wrapped back up and trounced out of the door. I used the sink, then left.

Amid a strong alcohol smell, I stopped in a chilly breeze. My glasses were fogged up to blindness. Standing naked just outside the hospital entrance, I just—

Porma: Oh shit, the towel.

Please, let this be a nightmare. I’d better clean my glasses.

A towel tickled around my waist. The security of her skin alarmed me like a shock of electricity. I gave up, wiping condensation away with my fingers. Her blurry, yellow figure was welcoming. The lack of privacy concerned me. I swear I FELT her smile shining at my cheek, as wind rippled my skin. Now her smile felt even worse.

Super tired, my voice, a soft and quiet shriek of a melody, bounced around inside my closed mouth. Her soft, yet sensually deep voice numbed me. My stationary hand felt her shoulder. I asked,

Can we please go home now?

She stared right at me, eye to eye. Sure.

However pissed or calm she was, I became independent of the world. We hailed a taxi.

A month followed.

I thank the government medical coverage. No hospital bills for us.

Night is...

After not doing anything, I listened to some music. Slouching on the dim living room couch, with the dark window in front of me. I had about 20% of my usual productivity, as I typed on my laptop. It was sleek, large, black and a way to command power.

Iteni spoke to me. My ears fought hard to listen. It was so incredibly bombastic, the human power to transfer and decode sound into processed information. I never thought I could accomplish such a beautiful, natural feat.

Porma: How are mmblmmmblrr.

I jolted up and out from my seat.

Iteni: What did you say? as I twisted back to see her.

I was trying to say—

My laptop modeled on the low, lounge table while I stood next to her. My legs were bent, and my ear wanted to be on her face.

Iteni: How are you? with doe eyes.

Oh, tired. Unfocused. Oh my fuckin god.

Ah.

I knew she would be thrown off by my blank, soft tone.

Her sweet scent made my drowsiness even worse. I need to rest.

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