The bandit stories - 2008-03-12
It has a mind of its own Late winter 1982 The room was bathed in fanned rays of yellow light, the glare of the streetlight outside the window only partially shuttered out by the Venetian blinds. It wasn't a terribly cluttered or fancy room; bunk bed at one end, desk at the other, two closets and chests of drawers, mirror, and bookshelves. The walls were grey cinderblock, and the floor was institutional brown tile, a choice of a practical rather than esthetic nature. But that wasn't to say that the room had no character; far from it. It wasn't easy for a lowly teenager to make a dent in the Establishment's effort to create anonymous conformity, but it could be done. The center of the floor was covered by a huge Persian rug, and the walls were adorned with Roger Dean landscapes: here an ethereal stone staircase over a cloudy sky, there a desert island floating in the clouds, and over there a huge mesa, a lake at its top, sheeting down water on all sides. And there weren't many other rooms in the building that would have had furniture like that next to the desk: a keyboard stand with a small synthesizer, a pair of boxy guitar amps, a beautiful old Les Paul on a stand, and a hideously-customized old Rickenbacker bass beside it, a sort of "American Gothic" with guitars instead of the old farmer and his wife. The bunk bed was occupied, top and bottom, and gentle breathing could be heard from both of the beds. Up top, two bodies were intertwined under the thick blanket, sleeping the sleep of the beloved. Down below, a single body was stretched out and gently snoring, head thrown back on the thick pillow, arms and legs akimbo. Suddenly, a tiny rustling motion came from beneath the blanket on the lower bunk. A small, moving lump appeared under the blanket, slowly and laboriously moving across to the edge of the bed. At the edge, it hesitated, trembling, then cautiously nosed out from under the covers. The Bandit's penis was going exploring. It looked to the left and right, carefully sniffing the air for anything out of the ordinary and listening for any strange sound that might mean trouble.
Satisfied at last, it gathered itself carefully, and jumped lightly down onto the carpet, glans first. It was an undignified way to land, that was for certain, but it knew from experience that it was a hell of a lot nicer than landing on its balls. It scrambled upright and immediately scurried to the protection of the bass on its stand, in case someone might see it. It paused for a minute or two, waiting anxiously for that fatal gasp or scream in the darkness. None came. Relieved, the Bandit's penis began to explore its surroundings in somewhat greater comfort. It paused to lovingly stroke the bottom of the bass with its head, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, smooth lacquered wood against its skin. God, it loved that instrument! It always wished that the Bandit would play it naked one of these days, so it could feel the bass's body resonating against it without the Bandit's thrice-damned pants in the way. The insistent throb of the deep, powerful notes was so erotic, and there it was, stuffed into a pair of BVDs while the Bandit got to have all the fun! Sometimes life just wasn't fair. The Les Paul was nearby, gleaming black in the night. The Bandit's penis gazed up at it a bit fearfully, and wondered if Zero's penis felt the same way about the guitar that it did about the bass. It would have to ask, someday, but frankly it doubted if it had the courage to put forth the question. The Bandit's penis was terrified of Zero's. So was every other penis in the building. Or anywhere else on the campus, for that matter. The Bandit's penis shivered at the thought of meeting it out here in the dark.... The penis looked up at the synthesizer, and wondered at the flat black metal of its base. It was a strange one, that box. It shrieked, moaned, wailed and thundered. A lot like Diva when she was coming, actually. The Bandit's penis chuckled at that one; Diva made him laugh more often than not. Diva. The Bandit's penis turned around and squinted up through the dim light at the upper bunk. There, perilously near the edge, was a blanketed back, wide and gently curved, and a generous pair of buttocks clearly outlined beneath the fabric. Zero was a lucky guy, that was for sure.
She was smart, talented, friendly...well, to most people. The Bandit's penis shrank a bit as she thought of the looks Diva gave the Bandit. Why doesn't she like him, it wondered. He sure likes her well enough. Hmm, maybe that's the problem. Well, it's not my place to advise him on such things. Onward! The Bandit's penis sauntered under the music stand, and clambered into the closet. There was the Bandit's old laundry bag, smelling of sweat, and dirt, and.... Suddenly the penis stopped, stiffening, and sniffed deeply at the bag. Good Lord above, it thought, there's a pair of panties in there! Now who in the heck-- Oh. Right. Silly of me. The Bandit's penis wilted completely and slumped into a dejected heap. Oh, damn, it wailed, why'd I have to find those? She probably put them in there to be cleaned, the last night they slept together, and he hasn't given them back yet. Damn! It thought miserably of the wonderful warm nights through the winter that the Bandit had spent with Teenie, before she'd broken up with him and left him alone and cold and miserable and horny and frustrated and.... it could remember every inch of her, her long lustrous black hair with the glorious red highlights that took her forever to comb, her wonderful firm lips that the Bandit wasn't allowed to kiss too hard because she'd be too sore to play the clarinet, her beautiful breasts with their rosy-pink nipples and virtually nothing else to them, her slim, tight torso with the razor-sharp hip bones, her-- The Bandit's penis sat up again. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that she left after all, it decided. The Bandit can do better. I hope. It hopped down from the closet and waddled comically along the wall, past the dressers and mirror and back toward the bed. Ah, it's wonderful to get out and about in the cool and quiet of night! Pity the poor female, whose privates never get out to see the world and get a bit of exercise. It did a few somersaults, just for fun, and rolled over to the foot of the bed. The first faint light of the rising sun was starting to tinge the stark yellow of the lights outside, and it glanced at the luminous dial of the alarm clock nearby to see what time it was.
It read 6:57. The Bandit's penis was glad it didn't have any vocal cords, because it would've screamed blue murder right then. Three minutes to seven? Dear GOD! Frantically it waddled over to the end of the bed, cursing the pain in its balls. A lot like walking on sore feet, it supposed. Really sore feet, that is. The bedclothes were loose and dangling almost to the floor, as usual; fortunately the Bandit was a pretty sloppy hand at making beds. It strained upward, and just managed to hook itself in the little cusp of the partially- tucked blanket. With a mighty heave, it levered itself up to the level of the matress. For a split second, it lost its balance, and teetered on the edge of the bed, visions of a long fall right onto its balls playing grotesquely in its terrified imagination, but it recovered itself with a desperate lunge and lay panting for a few moments. The lump under the covers quickly shuffled up the length of the bed, between the sprawlingly spread legs, and stopped. For perhaps a half minute, all was still. Then the alarm clock began to blare heavy metal music at an ungodly volume, silenced a moment later by a groggily-aimed fist smashing down on the SNOOZE button. The Bandit remained frozen in midreach for a moment, body half raised from the matress, then collapsed back into bed. Above him, he heard a moan, a light kiss, indecipherable whispers. Then a pair of shapely legs appeared over the edge of the bed, followed by a meaty but well-rounded pair of buttocks, demurely clad in purple panties. With a graceless thump, Diva dropped to the carpet and hastily began to dress. She didn't turn around; the Bandit was watching her, and she knew he was watching her, and what was worst, HE knew that she knew that he was watching her and that wasn't stopping him. Another pair of legs, much skinnier and covered with hair, appeared at the foot of the bed, and ingerly turned around, hunting for footing. Zero climbed down to floor level, muttering, "Morning, Bandit. Sleep well?" "No," the Bandit responded. "Not at all." He scratched his groin and swung his legs out from under the covers, smacking his lips distastefully at the awful layer of perdition in his mouth. He blinked, trying to remember the fragments of something very near, yet too nebulous to touch.
"I'm never going to sleep on a full stomach again," he vowed wearily. "Pizza with mushrooms and onions gives you the WEIRDEST dreams!" PART ONE: some introductions Late January 1982 "I don't want to start like that. And again...two, three, four...." "Hold it, HOLD IT!" The Bandit held up a hand and waved frantically, making disgusted faces. Zero raised an eyebrow at the spastic diplay, but willingly shut off the tape recorder. "Something the matter?" "YES, God damn your oversized beak!" The Bandit glared furiously at Zero, fists on hips. Zero selfconsciously rubbed the bridge of his nose, which was quite frankly a tremendously outsized appendage for the face upon which it rested, a bit of Cherokee ancestry that wouldn't have been out of place on a nickel. "What is it? And calm down, you look like you're about to explode." "You promised me NO cliches and NO stuff stolen from other people!" "Well, of course not," Zero replied, looking hurt. "But we haven't even started playing yet...." "You know damn well what I mean!" The Bandit rewound the tape, still glaring at Zero. "That 'I don't wanna start like that' line is straight off of a Robert Fripp song! Now, NO FRIPP!" "It is? Oh, so it is." Zero scratched his head and smiled sheepishly. "It's from the prologue of his first album, isn't it? The one that leads into--" "No, don't start! DON'T START! Or you'll set me off and we won't get ANYTHING recorded!" The Bandit waved him to silence. Zero grinned at him, and began to play a lightning series of guitar chords, his hands moving in an inhuman blur. The Bandit was reaching to turn off the amp, when the door opened and Diva stuck her head in. "What on Earth are you two DOING?" The Bandit stopped dead in his tracks, his scowl deepening. One thing I don't need right now, he thought grimly, is the Diva on my case. As Zero came to the turnaround, the Bandit kicked in the drumbox at an earshattering volume, and spun around to face her with a wide grin as he joined Zero in the song. To hell with composing, he thought gleefully. I'd rather torture Diva any day! "You burn me up, I'm a Cigarette, Take hold of my hand and I begin to sweat You make me nervous, oo woo, I'm nervous This must be real bad karma for this to be my dharma With you-woo-woo...." Diva looked irritable, as she always did when the Bandit ever said anything to her, and began to back out of the room.
Suddenly another face appeared behind hers, blocking the way as she tried to look into the room. Twink, trying to be heard over the din, cried, "What's the name of--" The Bandit's gorge catapulted into his throat at the sight of her, and his grin turned demonic as he aimed the next verse down her throat like a whaling gaff. "You burn me up I'm a cigarette, Life with you is a losing bet You drive me crazy, eeyow, I'm going CRAZY! Musical elation is my only consolation From you-woo-woo!" Twink bit her lip and backed off, reddening, and Diva hustled out of the room behind her, the slamming door unnoticed in the chorus. "Strategic interaction irreducible fraction Terminal inaction from a bitter hostile faction I'm getting anxious I'm FRANXIOUS Transactional diseases are the only thing that pleases We...." It took another verse or two for the song to wind down, by which time the pounding on the door was enough to wake the dead. The Bandit was laughing like a lunatic, and Zero's normally placid smile was a good deal wider than it should have been, as they set down their instruments and opened the door. "Eeee, yessssss?" The Bandit asked, opening the door and batting his eyelashes like Bugs Bunny in drag. Conan gave the Bandit a big grin, and said, "Quiet or I'll kill you." He flexed every muscle in his magnificent torso for emphasis. The Bandit, who'd seen it all before, just yawned. "Oh, hello, Conan," Zero volunteered. "Come to sit in?" "I've come to squash you both like rotten grapes beneath my feet," Conan replied goodnaturedly. "Either you turn it down to a civilized level or you get forcefed your guitars." "Some people are so touchy," The Bandit lamented. "It's our punishment for rooming with heathen," Zero agreed. "What do they know about art, anyway?" He turned off the beatbox and the amp, sighing. Mollified, Conan turned on his heel and stalked back across the living room to the other double bedroom in the quad. He gingerly stepped over Starch, Lanky, Plaids, and Mimosa, who were sitting and listening raptly to the Rainbow Wizard, who was holding forth from his beanbag chair with one arm gently caressing the smooth curve of Mary Magdalene's hip.
As he shut the door, the Rainbow Wizard called after him, "Thanks for quieting them down, Conan. We couldn't hear ourselves think." "I didn't shut them up for your sake," Conan replied easily. "I need to get some sleep before the graveyard shift." His door slammed. "Most people CAN'T hear themselves think, Wiz," the Bandit said, his appetite for music suddenly gone. "Just because *you* can, don't assume that it's vital to everyone else. Besides, who wants to listen to grinding gears anyway?" "That's unnecessary!" Lanky said indignantly, sweeping a long trail of black hair out of his eyes, his neckbell jingling as he moved. "I just got finished *saying* that," the Bandit retorted. "Especially when he can *smell* himself think at the same time! Peeyew! I nearly called the Fire Department; it smelled like a short in the stereo!" Zero made it a point never to get involved in the wrangling between the Bandit and the Wiz, but he knew when points were scored. He let his smile widen a bit, which was a real outpouring of emotion for him. Mary Magdalene actually smiled, though, and *that* was a major tactical victory for the Bandit. The Bandit saw the smile, and nodded, hastily reaching for his coat. "Let's call it quits for a bit, Zero; it's getting way too stupid for me in here." "Right behind you, kemosabe," Zero replied, fetching his coat and scarf from the closet. The Rainbow Wizard sighed loudly, half in anger at the Bandit's attitude, half in relief in getting him out of his hair for a while, but Lanky wasn't letting the Bandit get off that easily. "You ought to try listening rather than poking fun once in a while, Bandit. You might learn something. Wouldn't that be a shame?" "Every Messiah needs his Antichrist, Lanky m'boy," the Bandit said gaily, zipping up his jacket. "Otherwise, who'd the Faithful have to blame for their troubles?" He turned and headed out the door, Zero behind him. "Bandit?" The low, throbbing voice grabbed him by the crotch and did its best to spin him around and pull him back, penis first. The Bandit's back was turned to the others, so nobody saw the flash of emotion in his face. Was it anger, fear, or just lust? He turned around casually, his face a neutral mask.
"Yo?" Mary Magdalene gave him her best smile, asking, "Don't you wear the neckbell I gave you? Even Zero and Diva wear theirs...." The Bandit looked sidelong at Zero, and gave him a poke in the chest. No jingle, however muffled, answered the poke. "They do?" Zero smiled at Mary Magdalene and said softly, "We keep ours at Diva's place. No real use in wearing them around here." "But a neckbell is meant to be worn, and to be used, when you feel lonely or left out!" Mary Magdalene jingled hers lightly, and was instantly rewarded with a kiss from the Rainbow Wizard. "Not a problem," Zero said mildly. "Don't feel badly, Mary-Mag," the Bandit said with a raffish grin. "I wear mine all the time. See?" He reached under his coat and hauled out the tiny brass neckbell on its braided chain. He shook it gently. It didn't make a sound. The Bandit grinned at her look of confusion, and said, "I pulled out the clapper. 'Bye, now!" The door slammed on five shocked looks. "Ain't I a stinker?" The Bandit grinned. "The absolute pits, kemosabe," Zero agreed. "That was *really* low." The pair bundled up as they walked down the hall to the stairwell, and down the few steps to the side door. "It was worth it," the Bandit said, straightening his beret. "The look on that pompous shit's face...." "You really hurt Mary Magdalene's feelings, though," Zero reminded him. "The Wiz wasn't the one who gave you that bell; *she* was." "For her cold borscht my heart bleeds," the Bandit growled. "If the world depended on my concern for her feelings, Ronnie would've dropped the bomb on Andropov already." "Oh, really," Zero said mildly. "And what happened to all that stuff about 'God, she's beautiful' and 'I wish she'd at least pay attention to me' and so on and so forth?" "Past history," the Bandit replied with ice in his voice. "I met her two years ago, before either you or the Wiz started here, and I will freely admit that she knocked me flat on my ass. But she ended up getting into this soulmate stuff with the Wiz before I had a chance with her, and for that I owe him a big debt of gratitude." "You? Owe the Wizard *anything*? Why, for Set's sake?" "Because in rooming with the Wiz, which seemed like a damned good idea at the time, please forgive me--" "Long since forgiven.
Say on." "--I had a chance to see what's going on inside her head. Man, it is *scary* in there!" "There are crazier people in Arcadia, Bandit." "I'm not so sure. That woman's in her own little fairy kingdom!" The hard-packed snow crunched under their boots as they made their way across the gleaming white expanses of the Eastern Quadrangle, past the Virgin Vault, the Roach Motel, and the Lovepile. Up ahead, Scum Central was already surrounded by a growing crowd of students, filing in for dinner. "Don't worry your pointed little skull about it, Zero," the Bandit said mildly, kicking the snow from his boots and shivering as he stepped across the threshold. "I'm leaving well enough alo--HEY! TEENIE!" The skinny young girl by the coat rack looked up like a frightened deer, terror in her eyes. She took a half step back as the Bandit came over to her, smiling. "H--hi, Bandit." Her voice was a dry whisper. "Hello, sweetheart. Just going in to dinner?" "Just coming out." She grabbed her coat from the rack, and shouldered into it hastily. "I have to get over to the rehearsal hall...." "Hey, hold on a second!" The Bandit's forearm came up, barring her escape. "You've been avoiding me every chance you've had for nearly a month now. When you said you didn't want to see me any more, I let you go with no questions asked, and frankly I have been *miserable* since then. I love you and I miss you! Couldn't you at least give me an explanation?" "Just leave me alone." Teenie pushed past him, not meeting his eyes. He watched her hurry into the snow, his eyes tortured. Zero, who'd been standing nearby, shook his head. "Bad karma, bro'." "No shit," the Bandit muttered, his eyes still on the doorway. "What the hell's got her so spooked?" "No clue," Zero said mildly, doffing his coat. "Multitudinous thanks for essentially nada," the Bandit snapped. "Mellow out. You'll be so wound up we won't be able to play after dinner. Just calm down and relax, okay?" The Bandit glared at Zero for a moment, then sighed, his expression softening. "Yeah, okay. You're right." He walked over to the entryway and ran his data card through the debit machine, then took a place in the food line.
"It could be worse," he said philosophically. "I could have to eat with--" "HEEYOW! ZERO THE GUITAR HERO AND THE DREADED BANDIT!" The yell split the calm murmur in the cafeteria like a knife. Zero winced, and the Bandit rolled his eyes, finishing his sentence. "--Livewire." A curly-headed spring of raw energy uncoiled itself in a long leap over the decorative planters dividing the line from the eating area. One trailing foot caught the edge of a planter, toppling it and scattering dirt across a wide swath of carpet. Livewire didn't even look behind him as the plant hit the floor with a rustling crash, his grin from ear to ear as he gave first Zero, then the Bandit, a food-spilling whack on the back. "Heyyy, how you guys doin, nice to see ya, listen, I got us a big table over in the corner with lotsa seats, look for us over there it'll be a kick, see you soon gotta get back my burger's getting cold, hurry it up!" Another leap and he was gone. Zero shook his head in awe. "What a marvelous human being," he said with a smile. "Utterly untroubled by anything resembling common sense. It's a miracle he's survived to adolescence!" "Be still my heart," the Bandit sighed. "More indigestion tonight." "Hey! Bandit?" The Bandit winced at the familiar voice, then plastered on a smile as Twink came over, a glass of something in her hand. The Bandit glanced at it. Milk. Just plain old white milk. Typical. "Need a place to sit? I'd just love your company," Twink cooed, her voice a poor imitation of Mary Magdalene's. "It'll give you a chance to make up for how rude you were over at the dorm." She tossed her blonde hair out of her eyes and gave him what she must have thought was a demure look, but came off more like a cartoon caricature of a whore's leer. The Bandit's speech centers suffered a severe lockup as eighteen suitable rejoinders arrived at his larynx simultaneously and shorted each other out, and he glared at her. Then, suddenly, he smiled. "You wouldn't happen to be sitting with Livewire, would you?" She smiled brightly at his softened tone. "No! I'm all alone by myself. But if you want, we could move over there! Livewire's there, with Diva and Bone and Thunder and--" "No, that's all right," the Bandit said hastily.
"I'd *love* a nice, quiet meal with you. You go on ahead, Zero; I'll see you after dinner." Zero looked at him, then at Twink, then over at the waiting delights of the corner table, where Bone and Thunder were joking with Livewire, and Diva was casting him pleading looks. He shrugged. "Okay." "Great! This way," Twink said, leading the Bandit to a small table for two in the Annex, her hips weaving from side to side in a carefully practiced imitation of Diva's sexy wiggle. He found himself eyeing the shift and ripple of her buttocks as she walked, and shook his head violently. If the Ultimate Ditz is giving you a hard-on, kid, he told himself grimly, then you are in BAD shape. PART TWO: Various bedtimes Early February 1982 The Bandit rubbed his eyes and put down the book, tucking his pen in it for a bookmark. He sighed gustily and looked at the closed door to the living room. Muffled sounds of conversation were coming from outside, interspersed with shouts of raucous laughter: Conan, having some fun at the expense of one of the Wiz's folks, no doubt. There was no sign of Zero; it was becoming obvious that he'd be spending tonight in Diva's room. Bummer. On impulse, the Bandit walked swiftly to his cassette rack and withdrew an album that he almost never played any more. He popped it into the deck, pulled on his headphones, and began to disrobe. "Oh very young, what will you leave us this time? You're only dancing on this Earth for a short while, And though your dreams may toss and turn you now...." "Come to bed, liebchen," Diva smiled, stretching out languidly on the narrow mattress. Her body wasn't a pin-up artist's wet dream by any means: a bit heavy in the hips and thighs, just a hint of a double chin. But her heavy breasts and sinuous torso had an appeal all their own, as did the tawny patch of hair just above her swollen labia. She licked her lips. "I'm thirsty." Zero smiled at her as he undid the buckle on his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. His straining underwear was stretched even more out of shape than usual, and he walked over to her and waved the huge bulge in front of her as he unbuttoned his shirt.
"I can go get you a glass of water from the bathroom," he offered politely. "Or did you have something else in mind?" "Hmmmm...." She rolled over onto her side, facing him and propping up her head on one elbow. She licked her lips again, reaching out with her free hand and giving the waistband of his underpants a tiny tug. The huge, throbbing mass under the cloth shifted position and tried frantically to escape, but didn't quite make it. She laughed lightly at the spectacle, and ran a caressing hand over the scarcely-covered testicles, weighing them gently. With another gentle tug, she finally pulled the waistband over the tremendous obstruction keeping his underwear on, and the pants fell to the ground. Zero's penis was a terrifying club of throbbing meat dangling in her face, as big around as a kolbassi and nearly ten inches long. It was the kind of penis one tended to see in porn flicks, the sort of equipment that always seemed to belong to the men submitting their life histories to the Penthouse Forum. Most of the men who saw it coming out of the shower or in the locker room turned pale and got very quiet, suddenly selfconscious. Even Conan, who was put together like a stunt double for Arnold Schwarzenegger, said of it, "All that meat on that skinny little guy.... it's just not fair! He probably can't even manage a hard-on without passing out!" That obviously wasn't the case, as Diva could readily attest. It was true, the weight of the organ was such that it never stood up at more than a horizontal position even when fully hard, but that didn't matter to her. All that mattered was where it went, and what it did when it got there. She stuck her tongue out as far as it would go, and licked the underside of the shaft, from the base to the tip of the swollen purple glans, and smacked her lips delightedly. "Finger me," she said, "Finger me while I suck you dry." Zero slid a teasing hand down the length of her belly and over her pubic mound, searching for her clitoris. It was already oozing and swollen as he touched it; there was no question but that she'd been playing with it already before he'd gotten in. She was in no mood to waste time that night, he decided, and proceeded to slide two fingers into her slick crack as deeply as they could go.
Diva grunted loudly, gently caught the huge head of the bobbing member between her parted lips, and teased the slit with the tip of her tongue, tasting the sticky pre-come there. His fingers were finishing her work of the past three hours, and she felt her orgasm surging up in her like a wave of molten lead. She smiled around the huge knob between her lips, looked up at Zero with wide blue eyes like a child asking for praise, and inhaled sharply. It had taken months of practice with dildoes, but she'd learned to relax her throat muscles and take his entire penis down her throat without gagging, a trick none of his old girlfriends could ever have matched. It made him her slave; he couldn't say no to her loving mouth, and the fact that the act made him seem the dominant one only put a touch of kink in the total control she exercised. But tonight she was too close to coming to bother with teasing him. Her strong inhalation sucked the entire pulsing member into her waiting mouth and down her throat, all the way down to the base. She heaved up on the bed, hands on his buttocks, scrotum flapping rhythmically against her dripping chin, and tried her best to swallow his penis whole. And when she felt him hit bottom, she began to hum. That was all it took. Zero groaned and his legs shook as he dumped a huge load of semen directly into her stomach, and her humming turned into a confused series of muffled screams and gagging noises as she came all over his hand, the warm flow of liquid in her belly sending her over the edge. Zero, unable to endure the excess of stimulation, pulled his shaft from her mouth, and she coughed up a thin stream of semen after it, a grey line that trickled down her chin and onto her breast. She grabbed the still-rigid rod and pulled as hard as she could, milking more fluid from it as she pulled him down atop her and tried to feed his length into her sopping vagina. "Now that I've lost everything to you, You say you want to start something new, And it's breaking my heart, you're leaving, And baby I'm grieving...." Teenie stared at the ceiling in the darkness, arms at her sides, legs tightly together.
I wonder where he is tonight, she thought. Is he lonely? Does he miss me? Or will he just haul out one of those disgusting magazines from under the bed and pull on himself until he forgets about me? Probably. That miserable son of a bitch. I did the right thing, leaving him. She rolled over and looked out the window at the drifting snow. It had been snowing heavily for nearly a week now, and there was more to come. She shivered. It was cold, even under her blankets. She frowned; it hadn't always been this cold at night. But of course not; she'd had him in bed with her then, cradling her in his arms and saying how he'd loved her.... "Not tonight, Bandit. Please?" "Sure, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to. Sleep well." And that was all. No nasty hints, no pleas, no angry words or threats. And later that night, when she was drifting in and out of sleep, she remembered the sudden splash of something warm on her back, the gentle hand that wiped away the stain, the kiss on her shoulder blade. He'd gotten what he wanted anyway. He always did. "I don't miss him." She said it out loud to the dark. "He used me as a sex object. I don't need him. The Rainbow Wizard was right. He just uses people, and throws them away. I'm better off alone now. I am...." She rolled over again, and started suddenly to find a furtive hand betwen her thighs. Angrily she moved her hand elsewhere, and firmly shut her eyes. I'll say twenty Hail Marys tomorrow, she decided, and go to Confession. "Oh, I can't keep it in, I can't keep it in I gotta let it out, I gotta show the world, world's gotta see, See all the love, love that's in me...." Livewire staggered through the snow, singing to off-key to himself. His breath was thick with beer and vomit, and the front of his parka was stained. He fell forward into the snow and lay there, panting. I gotta get up. My face is cold, I got snow down my pants, man, that really sucks serious dick. Shit. I'm tired. Maybe I should take a nap or some shit, just rest a minute. I'll get up in a second.
I'll count to three. I'll count to ten. I'll count to three. One. two-- "Whugghh," he said, scrambling to hands and knees and heaving beer and half-digested hamburgers into the snow. He wiped his mouth with one hand and got to his feet, weaving. Up ahead, through the snow, he could barely make out the front of the Eastern Habitat. He stumbled forward wearily, one hand outstretched before him. There were the front doors, up ahead, and there were the steps, and there-- he unconsciously counted up four floors and over two windows-- was HER window. SHE was asleep, looked like. Or she was fucking some football player or some shit up there. Yeah! Fucking some football player while he was stuck out here in the cold! Mother FUCKER! "MOTHER FUCKER! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIEEEEEEEE---" Livewire went face down into the snow again, retching. At long last, the last of the beer gone, he crawled up the steps and onto the porch. He got one hand onto the door handle, and pulled feebly. The door hadn't latched properly when the last resident had come in, and so it opened with a click. He pulled himself inside, smiled happily at the warmth of the air as the door shut and locked behind him, and finally, mercifully, passed out. "Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning, Born of the one Light Eden saw play...." The Rainbow Wizard held Mary Magdalene in his lap, gently bouncing her up and down, up and down. Her smooth, wet pussy alternately clasped and released his manhood, and he gently suckled on her breast as she threw her head back and sighed in utter ecstasy. "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." Their whispers were a litany of love under the ceiling poster of astrological signs that served as a canopy for Mary Magdalene's bed. Unicorns adorned every wall, and posters of fantasy heroes with swords and bloodied shields hung on the door and beneath the window. A quartz crystal dangled before the single lit candle in the room, casting multiple sparks of rainbow light over the two intertwined bodies. "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." Over and over again, the words were repeated, chewed into meaningless mantric syllables as the surges of sexual release ebbed and flowed forward, surged up and receded, never allowing release, again and again and again....
"I love you." "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." Mary Magdalene felt the beginnings of his orgasm, the tightening in his legs, the swelling in his loins, the thin sheen of sweat on his face. She smiled at his expression, glad of his joy, and began to accelerate her thrusts. "I LOVE you!" "I LOVE you!" "I LOVE you!" "I LOVE you!" Suddenly he tensed, his legs splaying outward, and gasped as his seed filled her to the brim and overflowed, sweet, sticky, glowing faintly in the dim light. The hot fluid scalded her insides, bringing on a sudden orgasm for her as well, swift, sharp as a dagger, and as suddenly gone. "I--ugh--LOVE YOU!" "UH! AH! I LOVE YOUUUUUUU....." She fell forward across him, her carpet of black hair extinguishing the candle, and kissed the long scar from his collarbone to his groin as he fell into a deep sleep. Lovingly, with a worshiper's care, she lapped up the softly glowing semen from his shrinking penis, licking it clean, then snuggled up against him in the darkness. Her final whisper was a benediction. "I love you...." "Now that I've passed your test, How could I lie to you baby, I'll never make you sad...." Twink laughed merrily, clutching her sides and rolling on the floor at Conan's latest joke. Of course, she hadn't "gotten" it, at least she she didn't think she had, but she'd learned it was safer to pretend. When she asked what things meant, people always groaned and looked funny at her, and that was no fun at all. Wiping her eyes, she got to her feet, and said, "Oh, Conan, that was a scream! I love hearing your jokes." "Great," Conan grinned, knowing damn well that she was trying to hide the fact that she was totally clueless. God damn, what a total airhead! How could anyone get as far as she did without learning *something* about what was what, anyway? "Is the Bandit coming back soon?" She phrased the question as casually as she could. "He's already asleep," Conan replied, inclining his head toward the closed door to the room the Bandit shared with Zero. "Oh!" Twink got up hastily, smoothing the skirt of her nightdress. "Then I guess I should be going; I just wanted to talk to him, that's why I came down here...." "Well, there's me.
Why don't you stick around for a while?" Conan smiled winningly and stretched, flexing his muscles. Twink looked into his eyes, her smile a frozen mask. She was remembering the last time she'd stayed around with Conan to wait for the Bandit: the dark, sweaty room, the awful, awful....THING stretching her poor mouth out of shape, the taste of mucus and something else, his voice: "Don't use your teeth, you stupid bitch! SUCK on it, don't try to chew it up!" "Thanks," she said with feeling, "But I'd die first." She cast one longing look at the shut door keeping her from the Bandit, and fled into the hallway. Conan watched her leave, sighing. Women, he thought to himself. What a fucked-up species. He opened the door to his half of the quad, and noted that neither the Rainbow Wizard nor Mary Magdalene was anywhere to be found. He sighed again. Well, he thought, dropping his pants, at least I can beat off without having to listen to them whisper sweet nothings to each other all night. Now where'd I leave that copy of Hustler? "Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody, I got some money 'cause I just got paid, How I wish I had someone to talk to, I'm in an awful way." The Bandit pulled off the headphones angrily and hurled them across the room. "Fuck that shit," he muttered, rolling over and closing his eyes. Across the room, the cassette deck finished playing the album in a soft whir, and calmly shut itself off. PART 3: Valentine's Day (just after midnight) Mid-February 1982 The Bandit and Zero kicked the dirty grey snow off of their boots and walked up the steps of the East Habitat. A quick ping of a security card in the lock, and the door sighed open, brushing a warm breeze across their faces from inside. They walked out of the dark and into the central lounge, gratefully unzipping their coats. The usual late-night gang was there, Thud holding court like a king in the chair by the coffee machine and dealing a hand from his everpresent cribbage deck to Lanky and Plaids. Conan was sprawled out on the couch, reading a paperback, and the notes of an acoustic guitar wafted gently through the air as the Rainbow Wizard played a love song for Mary Magdalene on a nearby stretch of carpet.
"Hi, Zero, Bandit," Thud said pleasantly. "Cribbage?" "Nope," Zero smiled. "Against my faith." "What faith?" Thud sneered at him. "You're an agnostic, a Crowleyite, or worse yet, a Satanist." "True." Zero collapsed on the couch with a sigh. Thud gave up. "Bandit?" "No thanks, Thudlike. I'm on a diet." "Suit yourself. I'm just worried about how long I can hold onto these two. They just have no stamina! I mean, we've only played--" "Twenty-one games," Lanky groaned. "Twenty-two," Plaids corrected him. He got up, stretching, and stalked off toward his room. "I quit." Lanky took the opportunity to make his escape as well, leaving Thud alone, the cribbage hand half dealt to no one. "See what you did? Now what am I going to do?" Thud said angrily. The Bandit smiled innocently. "Play Solotaire." "You're the expert on games one plays alone," Thud replied caustically. "Ouch. I left myself wide open for that," The Bandit laughed. He looked over at Conan, and asked, "Good book?" Conan didn't look up. "Yup." "What's it about?" "I'm reading it for my Twentieth Century Literature class as an elective," Conan said, eyes on the text. "I think the professor will get a kick out of my report." The Bandit leaned over and looked at the book cover. His wide mouth split into a grin. "Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor?" Conan didn't say a word; he only looked over at the Bandit and winked. Meanwhile, Zero had wandered over to where the Rainbow Wizard was finishing another song for Mary Magdalene. After the song had ended and Mary Magdalene was thanking the Rainbow Wizard with a kiss, he cleared his throat politely. "Uh, c'n I borrow that for a moment, Wiz?" "Mmmmmm," the Wizard said, pulling off the guitar awkwardly so as not to break the kiss. He set the guitar down beside him, and threw both arms around Mary Magdalene, bearing her down to the carpet on her back. "Thanks," Zero said. "Mmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard said. "Mmmmmm," Mary Magdalene agreed. "Mmmm. Mmmmmm, mm mmmm!" "Mmmmmmmmmm," the Rainbow Wizard managed with a muffled laugh. "Mmmm mm mmm mmmmmm mm mmmmm mmmmmm, mm mmmmmmm...." The conversation continued in that vein, broken by giggles on occasion. Mary Magdalene rolled the Rainbow Wizard over onto his back, and began to slowly rub herself up and down against his thigh.
The others in the lounge watched in fascination as her movements grew more and more obvious in their intent. Thud gaped. "Public fornication! That's DISGUSTING!" Conan laughed quietly to himself. "Mary Magdalene in heat again? Now THAT'S disgusting!" The Bandit looked over at the two lovers cavorting at Zero's feet while he nonchalantly tuned the guitar, and found his mouth going dry. Oh, man, he thought. That lucky bastard. If only it could have been me.... He forced boredom into his voice. "Here we go again." "No, dear boy," Thud corrected him with a sepulchural grin, "There THEY go again. You, alas, have no place in the matter." "Thanks for nothing." The Bandit looked away with an effort, picked up the cards, and dealt himself a hand of Solotaire. "Remember that playing with oneself is a sin, dear boy," Thud smiled. "I just wish you'd make up your mind, Thud," the Bandit muttered. "Either join the Priesthood, or decide you're gay. But don't sit on the fence, you're driving us all crazy!" "I promise I'll make up my mind before I leave school," Thud said with a placid, pious smile. He turned to watch Zero play, and the Bandit risked looking in the direction of the two thrashing bodies on the floor to better hear the music. Zero was shy by nature, and rarely played in public, but his little concerts drew more than their share of gossip. Every rock band on the campus wanted him as a lead guitarist, for his blinding speed and perfect articulation had become legendary. "If Mr. Spock played guitar," the Bandit was fond of saying, "He'd sound like Zero." Doing his best to ignore the moans of Mary Magdalene, who was obviously doing HER best to come as quietly as possible on the Rainbow Wizard's thigh, Zero torched his way through seven songs in seven minutes, including two famous pop tunes, a Villa-Lobos guitar concerto excerpt, two songs by the Bandit, one of his own tunes, and just to finish things with a flourish, a raunched-up version of one of the Wiz's love ballads. Thud and the Bandit applauded as he bowed and took off the guitar, and Conan tore himself away from the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor long enough to make clapping motions with the paperback and his free hand. Zero, grinning with pride, looked down at the people on the floor beside him.
His smile died. The Rainbow Wizard was cradling Mary Magdalene in his arms, whispering in her ear as she sighed in the glow of post-orgasmic peace and snuggled against his shoulder. They hadn't even looked at him. Zero looked outraged for the barest fraction of a second. Then he saw the Bandit's wide grin out of the corner of his eye, and smiled sheepishly, putting down the guitar next to Mary Magdalene. "That was wonderful!" He looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, low and alluring. Every other man in the room turned around as well; there was something in that voice that demanded attention. She was standing behind Zero, carrying a battered old guitar case in one hand and brushing her hair back from her eyes with the other. She was small, perhaps five feet two, with the lithe curves of a gymnast ill-disguised by the flimsy blouse she wore. The Bandit's gaze flicked over her in a practiced instant: tight, well-worn jeans with a patch over the crotch, strong legs, light from the window behind her outlining her torso through the shirt, and the particular jiggle and barely noticable tenting of the fabric that bespoke small, slightly pointed breasts and no bra to hide the nipples. Her eyes were blue and wide like a child's, and her freckled face was scrubbed clean of makeup. She tucked a wayward strand of wavy brown hair behind one ear, and continued, "I wish I could play like that...." Zero looked into her eyes, and came to an instant decision. "A lot of people do," he said pleasantly, and turned away from her, walking out of the lounge. She watched him go, her eyes puzzled. "Oh, don't mind him," the Bandit said hurriedly, getting up from the couch and striding over to her. "He just gets nervous when people compliment him, that's all. Say, I haven't seen you around here before. Did you just move in?" She smiled at him, revealing tiny dimples. "Yes. I just transferred here from Crystal City. This is my first semester. I'm called Flower." "I'll just bet you are," the Bandit grinned. "And I am the one and only Bandit. At your service, madam!" He took her proffered hand and kissed it. She withdrew the hand gently, smiling. "Pleased," she said. The Bandit's grin grew even wider, if that were possible.
He waved to the assemblage in the lounge. "My merry men," he said. "Thud, Conan on the couch there with the Bitch Goddesses of Thamazor, and, uh, oh, yes! These two shameless exhibitionists at your feet are our very own Do-it-Yourself Messiah, the Rainbow Wizard, and HIS very own Mary Magdalene." "Messiah?" She looked over as the Rainbow Wizard got to his feet, drawing up Mary Magdalene beside him with one strong arm around her waist. She smiled up at him. "I've never met a real Messiah before. Do you work miracles?" "When I'm not being trodden down by the unfaithful," the Rainbow Wizard smiled, "I can do almost anything. Welcome to the East Habitat." He bowed to her. She dimpled prettily and gave him a mock curtsy, and the Bandit suddenly felt like the fifth wheel on a Continental: not good for much, and hanging on for the ride. It's that goddamned Wizard thing again, he thought disgustedly. Why the hell does HE have to attract the pretty ones all the damn time? Flower turned to Mary Magdalene, and said, "it must be terribly exciting, having your own Messiah. How did you manage to do it?" Mary Magdalene smiled, but there was something in that smile that wasn't the orgasm. "I was," she said archly, "In the right place at the right time." There was silence for a few moments as several different thoughts went through several different heads. MY tits never look that good without a bra on, Mary Magdalene thought worriedly, and how the hell does she keep her hips so slim? It's a good thing I know the Wizard, or I'd be really worried.... This, thought the Rainbow Wizard, is a woman to get to know better. Nice hair, thought Flower. Seriously good smile, too. But she's too heavy and she doesn't take care of herself. And not only does she know it, but he knows it, too! Oh, mama, Crystal City was NOTHING compared to what I'm gonna do to Arcadia! Wow, man, serious tit action here, Conan thought. Wonder if the Wiz'll let me tear off a piece once he adds her to his little harem? Thud was watching Mary Magdalene's eyes. This is going to be very ugly, he thought to himself. I wonder how stable MaryMag is these days? If she gets too iffy, then POW! Catfight! Break out the body oil and the video camera! The Bandit, forgotten in an instant, decided that sterner measures were necessary.
"Uh, listen," he said, "We'll be getting together tomorrow to do some playing. Zero and I, I mean. Would you like to join us?" Flower had obviously come to the conclusion that the Rainbow Wizard was more worth knowing than Zero. "Maybe later," she said, scarcely looking at the Bandit. "I want to play some guitar duets right now." She looked over at the Rainbow Wizard and smiled. "If you don't mind, that is." "Not at all," he said. "Will you teach me some new songs?" "If you'll teach me a couple," she replied guilelessly. "Great! We can take turns playing," Mary Magdalene said brightly. "I love playing duets." She smiled pleasantly at Flower, her eyes hard as flint. Flower gave her the sort of smile one gives an adorable young child who's just brought home a live snake as a pet. "We'll make it a trio, then," the Rainbow Wizard said, fishing in his pocket for his room key. "Why don't you go get my other guitar from my room, dear?" "Okay!" Mary Magdalene's desire to please the Wizard overruled her her suspicions, and she skipped off toward their room. The Bandit watched her go, thinking, too trusting to live. Jesus! "Well, I guess I'll be leaving," the Bandit said uncomfortably. "You should stop by our place when you get a chance...." "Oh, I'd love to," Flower said hastily, remembering her manners. "I'd love to hear what you and, er, Zero do." The Bandit managed a weak grin. "Well, we--" "YO! BANDIT! HEY, WIZ my MAIN MAN! Whuss happening, people?" The Bandit winced. Please, he thought, O merciful God, not now, not while there's some faint shred of hope.... Livewire threw a corded arm about the Bandit's shoulders and squeezed hard enough to dislocate his collarbone. "Howya DOIN' my MAN!" He caught sight of Flower for the first time, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Well, hell-LO there, pretty lady," he said in his best Rhett Butler imitation, which was terrible, "I don't believe we've been introduced...." "Flower, this is Livewire. Livewire, this is Flower. She's a transfer," the Bandit said in a rush. "Now as I was saying--" Flower gave Livewire the barest nod, and said to the Rainbow Wizard, "You have a lot of interesting followers." Any thoughts that the Bandit had in Flower's direction were chopped brutally short.
His eyes burned as he whirled to face her. "You watch your mouth, missy," he gritted. "Livewire's my drummer, and neither he nor Zero buys into this crock of shit that old Glow-in-the-Dark here shovels out for the faithful. And what goes for them goes double, triple, for me. Understand?" Flower took a half step back from him, her eyes widening fearfully. "Don't you talk to me that way," she said feebly. "I can make mistakes, can't I? I thought he was your friend...." She looked from the Rainbow Wizard, who was regarding the Bandit sourly, back to the Bandit again. "He is my friend." The Bandit's voice was soft. "I just wish he'd see a shrink before he gets somebody hurt." He turned on his heel and left, tossing angrily over his shoulder, "Particularly himself!" "Oo, bad scene," Livewire said, watching him go. Then he shrugged and said to Flower, "But he's right, you know. This guy is like a TOTAL fuckhead. Thinks he can create trees!" Laughing uproariously, he did a back handspring away from them, bounded to his feet and charged off with a wave. "Later!" The Rainbow Wizard smiled and shook his head with the weariness of a patient parent. He said, "It isn't easy, being me." "Awwwww...." Flower smiled at him, her eyes at once teasing and promising. "Awwwww...." mimicked Conan, his eyes still on the book. Mary Magdalene was walking down the narrow hallway, the guitar case bumping against her legs, when the Bandit came striding toward her like a juggernaut. He brushed past her roughly, bumping the case from her hand with a jerk. "Hey!" Mary Magdalene's voice carried a lot more ire than people were used to hearing from her. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" "I could say the same for you, sweetheart," the Bandit snarled, not even turning around. "Better get out there in a hurry, or you're going to be out of a job." He slammed the door of his room behind him. Mary Magdalene looked at the shut door, then back down the hall toward the lounge. Her eyes narrowed into cruel slits, and her jaw set into a grim line. She marched down the hallway toward the lounge, rolling up her sleeves as she went. The Bandit pulled open the refrigerator, pulled out a beer, opened it with his teeth, and downed a third of it in one swig.
He sat down wearily on the couch and sighed, running a thumb over his aching teeth. Why do I keep doing that, he wondered wearily. One of these days I'll break a tooth. It's just not goddamned fair! He reads a book on the theory of miracle working, convinces himself and everyone else within earshot that he's got something special, and all of a sudden he's up to his eyeballs in devoted female followers! It's enough to make you sick.... I should have been a Psych major. Then I could get into people's heads and make them do whatever I wanted them to, just like him! Bells! Love songs! Give me a break, for shit's sake! There was a soft knock on the door. The Bandit took another long pull on the beer, finishing the bottle. I'm not going to answer it, he decided. I'm going to sit here very quietly and wait for whoever it is to go the fuck away. Then I'm going to crawl into bed and try to sleep while the Wiz is probably conniving BOTH of them into bed with him across the room. What the hell's so special about cum that glows in the dark, anyway? Hell, if I'd been irradiated as badly as he was, MY cum would probably glow, too! The knock was louder the second time. Go away, the Bandit willed. Go away and leave me alone. I don't want to be comforted, I don't want pity and understanding. I just want to be left alone. Please! "Bandit? Please open the door...." The Bandit's eyes went as wide as Frisbees, then contracted shut in pain. No, anyone but her, he begged. Please? There was a long silence. Finally, with a ragged sigh, the Bandit got up and walked across the living room, setting the bottle down with a clank. He pulled the door open, and snapped, "What?" Twink was obviously a bit taken aback by his tone, but she smiled tremulously and managed to struggle onward. "Can I come in?" "If you must," sighed the Bandit. He motioned for her to enter, and she glided past him and sat down demurely on the beanbag chair, her legs curled under her. He resisted the impulse to get another beer, shut the door, and returned to his chair. "So what do you want?" She smiled, the faintest hint of a kiss-me pout on her lips.
"I ran into Livewire," she said. "He told me you'd had a run-in with the Wiz over this new transfer kid." The Bandit sighed again. "I'm just a little bit tired of seeing him do the old hoodoo and having women drop their drawers for him," he muttered. Twink frowned slightly. "Drawers? What kind of drawers?" The Bandit slapped his forehead. "DRAWERS, Twink! Panties! Underwear, y'know?" "Oh," Twink said, blushing. "No, I've never heard that word for them before. Drawers? What a funny word for underwear! I wonder where it came from? Shut up, Twink." The last three words were spoken in the same conversational tone as the rest of her speech, and the Bandit almost missed them. He raised an eyebrow. "'Shut up, Twink'?" "I've started ending all of my sentences with it," she said proudly. "It saves time." Somewhere in the Bandit's gut, a small cold something tied itself in a knot. "Aw, Twink, that's a terrible thing to say!" "Well, it's the truth," she replied, shrugging. "People have been telling me to shut up ever since I got here. I can't ask what the words mean in the movies--" "Well, you've gotta admit not knowing the jargon in a movie that's rated 'R' is a little bit flaky for a modern teenager," the Bandit said drily. "I wasn't raised with it," she said wistfully. "My mummy and daddy never used curse words around the house, and neither did anyone else in the school." "I guess you didn't miss much," he smiled. The knot in his stomach was slowly unwinding, and he took a moment to appraise the figure Twink cut critically. She was wearing that awful shapeless nightgown again, the polyester one that zipped up to her chin with the little lace collar, and furry bunny slippers in matching powder blue. Bunny slippers, he thought to himself. I mean, really! For a brief moment, he found himself wondering what she would look like in real clothes, as opposed to the Godawful things her parents sent with her from wherever the hell in North Dakota she'd come from. All he knew was that she was no lightweight, and he wondered just how much fat she was hiding under those shapeless sweaters she wore. For a brief instant, he had a brief mental vision of Diva, her heavy breasts and wide hips as appealing as a Rubens in their way.
The Bandit had always gone for short, willowy girls, but maybe there was something to Zero's taste for ladies closer to Diva's size.... He shook his head slightly. Get real, Bandit. You're never going to get closer than ten feet away from Diva, and Twink ain't no Diva! "Penny for your thoughts," Twink asked, twirling the tip of her nightgown's collar drawstring between her chubby fingers. The Bandit's gorge rose into his throat at her pitiful attempt at flirtatiousness, and he suddenly was feeling about as amorous as a retread on the Interstate. "I was thinking," he drawled, "About what an incredible pain in the ass some women can be...." "Oh, you mean Flower? Yes, she's a live one, I'll say," Twink smiled. For the briefest instant, the Bandit could've sworn that she'd actually dodged an insult and delivered a comeback. Then he realized, as she continued talking, that she'd just missed the reference completely. Merciful God, he thought, how did a woman like this ever get into college? "I've been talking with her, she lives in my hall. She's kind of weird, always wearing old tiedyes and beads and and talking about how her parents used to walk around naked so she wouldn't have any hangups and stuff like that. After I saw Livewire, I decided to breeze through the lounge and see what was going on. I thought it was really pretty funny, well, actually kind of sad, to tell the truth, I mean there's the Rainbow Wizard playing away, and there's Flower matching him note for note, and poor Mary Magdalene struggling along on the chords just to keep up! Everyone tells me that the two of them have been together just forever and they always will be, but it doesn't seem to me that that's a terribly healthy way to go, you know? Shut up, Twink." "Oh, stop that," The Bandit scowled. He'd heard about enough for one night. Somebody was leaving. Soon! "Why?" Twink smiled at him again, standing up a
This story is copyright © to No Author
Author:No Author
Visit Authors Website
Category:Role Playing Sex Stories
Free Sex Stories
Fun Sex Stories(48)
Swinger Sex Stories(14)
3some Sex Stories(14)
Group Sex Stories(12)
Fetish Sex Stories(12)
Teen Sex Stories(11)
Lesbian Sex Stories(9)
Wife Sex Stories(7)
Role Playing Sex Stories(6)
Fantasy Sex Stories(6)
Gay Sex Stories(5)
Bondage Sex Stories(5)
First time Sex Stories(4)
Amateur Sex Stories(4)
College Sex Stories(4)
Taboo Sex Stories(3)
Romance Sex Stories(3)
Mature Sex Stories(2)
Masturbation Sex Stories(2)
Feet Sex Stories(2)
Indian Sex Stories(1)
Anal Sex Stories(1)
School Girl Sex Stories(1)
Ourdoors Sex Stories(1)
Our Friends
Sex Story Tales
Web Cam Nudes
All content is copyright of brokenprincess.com 2006.
Sitemap
Sitemap