Author's Chapter Notes:
My muses
have left me on my unfinished story, Trials and Tribulations...No
matter how hard I beg them to come back. So I have resigned that piece
of ****. This one is the result of watching Galaxy Quest on tv and
then being angry at having said tv die before I can watch next
Monday's 24. *aargh*. I know that doesn't totally explain things, but
I hope this is okay. (Thanks James!)
A gentle summer breeze drifts into the darkened bedroom. The sounds of
nightfall began to slip in through the open window: the sound of
chirping crickets happily calling to each other, of the light traffic
from the closest road. He lay quietly in the darkness, smoking a
cigar. Tilting his head, he looked down appreciatively at her thick
brunette hair, a thin band of white framing her beautiful face as she
slumbered peacefully, using his chest as a pillow. His mind rolled
back for what seemed like the millionth time. It was trying to see
through the fog enveloping his memory. Having lost several hours
without more than mere hints of what may have happened or where he had
been.

**********

It was Friday night, another no name bar in another no name town that
had become the mainstay of his nomadic existence. The bar was dark and
the music way too loud for the size of the room. The overpowering
odors of stale beer sweat and cheap perfume assaulted his senses. He
sat in the corner, his back to the wall, sipping another beer as he
rummaged around the pockets of his worn leather jacket. The jacket was
showing its age, its brown dye worn away in places, its surface
cracked and scraped. Yet, it was comfortable and as comforting as a
second skin.

Pulling out a cigar, his eyes scanned the seedy establishment
inhabited by the standard compliment of clichés. There was the balding
overweight bartender in his stained white tee shirt, the old rummies
at the end of the bar arguing about the score of some long forgotten
sporting event. The aging floozy, with the big hair, too much make up
and way too tight clothing swaying dangerously on her barstool while
drunkenly slurring the lyrics to another bad country ballad, trying in
vain to catch his eye. And of course the pack of good old boys
shooting pool and generally raising hell at the back of the room.

As he took another sip of his beer he unfolded his worn and stained
map, looking at it with a slight sadness in his hazel eyes. A finger
slowly traced another road he had yet to travel.

He looked up, mildly amused as the drunken woman with the big hair
staggered past. She was attempting what she imagined was her best hip
roll. But came off more as a human pinball as she bumped into a chair
or two and bounced off the sides of tables on her way to the little
ladies room to powder her nose or pass out, whichever came first.

His eyes went icy as he fought down the urge to attack when the boys
in the back hurled crude remarks after her, laughing and sneering. He
took another sip of beer and grinned inwardly to himself. He knew he
was not looking for a fight, but he wouldn’t exactly turn one down
either, and resigned himself to the fact that before the night was
over he would probably end up tangling with one or more of the boys in
the back.

Suddenly she was there. She slipped into the bar with all the subtlety
of a lightning strike. She made no noise, but the black mini dress
worn with fine gauged fishnets, thick chocolate hair cascading over
her shoulders, six-inch heels and the fact that she was drop-dead
gorgeous, stopped everyone dead. She glanced his way as she passed his
table, the faintest hint of a coy smile tugged at the corner of those
full luscious lips. The white streaks in her hair added a hint of
punk-rock to the country bar.

Crossing to the bar, she leaned over slightly to order a drink, her
perfect little behind pushed slightly out. The hemline of her dress
stopped just below the gentle curve of her tight little bottom. The
scene stirred animalistic instincts within him and caused him to
slowly run his tongue along the edge of his teeth.

Getting her drink, she asked the now flustered bartender if he sold
cigarettes. The bartender stood there as though thunderstruck but
finally nodded his head toward the cigarette machine at the back of
the room.

She turned slowly and looked around the room. Their eyes met
momentarily as he watched her over the rim of his nearly empty bottle
of beer. What? Was that a wink? The light was dim but he could almost
swear that she winked at him. Nah, what would a knockout like her
possibly see in his raggedy ass?

Taking another pull of his beer, he watched as she pushed herself away
from the bar and strode to the back of the room. As she moved through
the room, the way she walked, her alluring scent drifted over him as
she passed, setting his body on fire.

He suddenly realized that the good old boys were dangerously silent
and a few had sickening leers painted on their faces as she approached
the cigarette machine behind the pool table.

Time slowed almost to a standstill. He could see every movement in
sharp detail, almost as if in slow motion. He heard each coin cycle
through the machine as if they were hammers beating on a sheet of
steel. Her hand wrapped around the selector lever followed by a loud
thunk as she gave it a yank. A moment’s thought as to why she would be
wearing gloves this time of year. The swish of the pack as it slid
into the tray. Time passed in what seemed like years as she bent to
retrieve the cigarettes.

One of the men stepped up behind her, wrapping an arm around her
waist, lifting her into the air. Her scream of surprise was slowed to
what seemed like a low long, wail. He deposited her onto the pool
table and forced himself between her thighs. One of his buddies pinned
her hands over her head. The rest of the crowd circled cheering and
shouting obscenities.

He glanced at the bartender for his reaction and was shocked to see
him sadly turn his back and busy himself with some meaningless task
behind the bar. The two old rummies hung their heads in shame and
looked away. Looking back at the pool table, he could see that they
were tearing her clothes off and preparing to gang rape her. His
muscles and tendons coiled in preparation as he sprang out of his
chair, crossing the room in a split second.

The man between her wildly flailing legs never knew what hit him as a
fist drove into his temple dropping her attacker like a two hundred
pound rock.

Growling, he turned on her next assailant, his vision blurred into a
sheet of blood red as vicious snarl and a rumbling growl thundered
through the tiny bar. That was the last thing he could remember of the
evening.

As he lay there in bed, he felt the chill run up his spine again,
remembering how the newscaster grimly reported the news of the
massacre at the bar during the evening news. Shuddering as pictures of
the county coroner rolling out the black plastic covered bodies
flashed through his mind again. Afraid because he didn't remember what
occurred after he attacked her first assailant.

She stirred in his arms. Her lips tenderly kissed his chest, her
tongue teasing his nipple under the cotton cloth of his tshirt.
Looking up into his eyes and smiling, she said "I never got to thank
you properly for what you did for me." Rolling on top of him she
stretched her silk encased body out atop his. She kissed him
passionately through her gauzy scarf. Her soft body pressed against
his much harder one.

He remembered her telling him that she was a mutant; that those guys
at the bar wouldn’t have gotten too much further because of her skin.
Deadly skin she had called it. When he asked her what had happened
after the first guy went down, she shied away. It had taken him
telling her that he was also a mutant and showing her the claws before
she answered him.

He had somehow touched her exposed arm trying to pry one of the other
asshole’s hands off of her and her skin reacted. Immediately his
energy flowed into her and he collapsed onto the floor. She wouldn’t
tell him anything more and when he asked again during the newscast,
she avoided the question by saying she was tired. She hadn’t wanted
him to leave her alone and that’s how she ended up lying on him,
practically nude; but still protecting him from her skin.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tight against him. He
kissed her, while allowing his strong hands to caress her back, the
gentle curve of her bottom through the thin sheet, squeezing it hard.

She emitted a low moan into his mouth in response. Grinding her pelvis
against his, she moved the scarf and kissed and sucked his neck
passionately, wildly. His hand slipped around a perfectly contoured
ass cheek and between her thighs, his gloved fingers brushing against
delicate nether lips. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her hips
into his as the passion built into a blaze.

He grasped her sides gently but firmly, lifting her slightly, taking
her breast into his mouth. Even through her body stocking his tongue
expertly found and swirled around her erect nipple. Sucking it, biting
it, causing her to gasp and shudder, sending a new shower of moisture
flowing over his exploring fingers.

She stretched herself upright, his hands wrapped around her hips as he
slid down the bed, repositioning himself between her soft supple
thighs.

Her breath faltered as his lips brushed against her sex; she hadn’t
noticed him taking her scarf down with him. Her fingers tangled in his
thick hair, pulling his mouth tight against her smooth shaven mound.

His tongue slipped between the tender lips, stretching her, filling
her, causing her to moan deeply, grinding her sex into his mouth as he
attempted to devour her. He bit down gently with sharp teeth on those
silken petals, sucking each in turn. His mouth seeking and finding the
sensitive little bundle of nerves. Swirling his tongue around it,
sucking it. He caused her to convulse uncontrollably at the sheer
pleasure he was administering. He held her by the hips to steady her,
running his tongue from the gentle curve of her mound to her most
private of secrets, and back, lapping her rapidly. Slipping his
inquisitive tongue into her tight sheath without the scarf, he found
there was no pull from her mutation. Careful as to not touch his lips
to her skin she began to pump and ride his thrusting tongue.

She reached back behind her, wrapping her slim fingers around his
manhood. Feeling it throb hotly in her palm caused her to loose a
small breathless moan as his tongue thrust deeply into her.

Gripping her undulating hips he pulled her further into his ravenous
mouth, his hips raising slightly as she stroked and pumped her hand
along his length.

She threw her head back, hair flying in disarray as her orgasm began
to boil over. Her body tensed as his tongue slipped in and out to
swirl around her. She was lost in the new sensations; because of her
skin no one she’d ever been with before had ever ventured to
experiment with her down there.

She responded by grinding against his mouth, forcing his tongue deeply
into her. He continued thrusting into her as she gasped through
another orgasm.

She bounced off of his face with a rush of newly found energy as he
reached over to the nightstand to find his wallet and the shiny packet
that resided within. Once he’s covered and the sheet repositioned, she
surprises him and slams her pelvis onto his. Pure lust flashed through
her unfocused eyes. She rocked her hips as she slid her soaking sex
along his until she found the blunt tip. Moaning deeply, she impaled
herself on his iron like manhood. Taking him completely within the hot
velvet like grip of her sex, causing him to moan and gasp aloud. A
wild, feral lust takes over as she thrusts her hips against his,
harder and harder, faster and faster.

Grasping her hip, he pumped his pelvis into hers. Her juices flowed,
soaking him as her ass slapped wetly against his thighs.

Digging her nails into his shoulders as she ground herself against the
base of him, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to her breast.

She let out a hoarse whisper, "yesssss" and urged him on breathlessly.
She slammed her sex down atop his throbbing shaft. She was taking him
deeper and faster, as she begged him to make her come again.

He sat up suddenly and rolled her onto her back causing her to raise
her glistening thighs high on his hips and to cross her legs at the
small of his back. He began to thrust deeply.

She began to shudder underneath him, legs wrapped around his waist,
her creamy thighs gripped him tightly. Her mouth formed a tight little
‘o’ as her orgasm flashed through her like a jolt of electricity.
Thrashing her head from side to side, hair flying, she dug her heels
into him, forcing him deeper. Her sex fluttered and squeezed him; she
slowly went lax as her orgasm ebbed.

Slowing his thrusts to a gentle grind, he rested his weight on his
outstretched arms, gazing into her eyes. He noticed a wildness there
that he had not seen before. This pleased him immensely. Slipping out
of her slowly, he rolled to the edge of the bed taking her with him.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, she quickly straddled his lap.
Grasping his hard, slick shaft she guided the blunt tip of his spear
and slowly sat, impaling herself. Her thighs began to shake slightly
as her stamina began to wane.

He reached under her thighs so that they rested over his forearms,
grasped her ass cheeks in his strong hands and rocked her gently
against his pelvis, causing her to bury her face in his neck, gasping
in pleasure. He stood slowly, bringing the sheet with them as she
wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs tightly about his waist.
Raising and lowering her slowly, he began walking slowly. He walked
carefully across the room, out through the French doors, and into the
cool night air all the while gently raising and lowering her on his
impaling shaft.

Moonlight washed over them, caused her skin to glow and her hair to
shine darkly. Her hips rolled against his, her breath came in short
gasps, almost as if panting.

His passion mounted, knowing he was close to climax he began to thrust
and grind deeper. Looking into her unfocused eyes, he noticed a slight
glow to them. It excited and startled him at the same time. It was the
same look his eyes had in the moonlight.

His mind flashed back to the bar, he remembered whirling and snarling
after slamming his fist into the side of the first clown's head. He'd
caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as he fell sideways; he
remembered that terrifying growl that tore through the bar.

Feeling his passion reach its peak, he thrust into her one final time,
feeling the white hot heat wash over his shaft as he flooded her. He
grunted and bared his teeth at the sudden ice-cold shock, like that of
a razor cut, when her teeth sank deeply into his shoulder. He loosed a
purring growl when he realized that it was not he that had slaughtered
those bar patrons.
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