Subject:    Re: Auricularity
From:       Lisa Rea
Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.sex.hello-kitty,rec.org.mensa,alt.fan.tom-servo
Date:       Wed, 15 Oct 1997
Message-ID: <620vn6$kna$3@quasar.dimensional.com>

So then, Captain Infinity is all like:

>As Gaspar raised his head from Finola's neck, she felt a cool breeze
>flutter across the tender spot where his lips had been, like the touch
>of an icy butterfly wing. A small tingle of electricity traveled through
>her body and her skin flushed, turning her white makeup a delicate shade
>of pink.  Gaspar gazed deeply into her eyes.  He removed his hand from
>her breast and with a finger lightly traced the thin black lines that
>arced over her hidden eyebrows and above and below her eyelids.

>Finola touched his face as well, caressing the small pink highlights on
>his cheeks, the full lips with their generous coating of Moisture Whip
>#16 "Wine and Roses" lipstick, the gentle ridge of his chin where the
>clown-white blended into his natural skin color.

>She thought, if only I could tell him how much I love him, how much he
>means to me.

>She opened her mouth to tell him, to finally say all the things she had
>been putting off for so long.

>"     " she said.

>And once again, she knew it was not to be.

Or was it? Finola slipped her hand under the back of Gaspar's
loose-fitting shirt. Her plan was momentarily delayed by the shudder
that ran up her spine at the taut smoothness of the curve at the small
of his back. She lingered briefly, then began to spell out the words
that she'd wanted to say for so long. 

Gaspar was mad with the competing joy of the feel of her touch and the
words that she spelled out, slowly and meticulously. 

L-O-V-E--M-E--G-A-S-P-A-R.

The world rushed past Gaspar in a slow, silent fury as the two
disrobed, then stood before each other, clothed only in the glow of
their passion. Finola languidly raised her tiny finger to her parted
lips, then gently coaxed Gaspar to the ground. 

He felt a guttural noise rise almost to his throat as she mounted him.
She enveloped him in warmth and moistness. The simple idea that this
was his Finola--the Finola that he'd adored for so long, so fearful of
rejection--engulfed him. He tried so hard to think of that box that
trapped him, of his muteness and frustration. Anything that would let
him continue this moment a little longer. Anything that would keep him
inside her until she was ready. His fears melted as he looked up and
saw her first tiny shudders. She brought her finger to his smooth,
arched torso and began to spell something out. He shut his eyes so he
could concentrate on the letters. ...B... She was shuddering harder
now, and her ...I... was crooked and palsied, like an old woman's.

He opened his eyes, knowing that the image of his Finola in the grips
of passion would haunt him on the many otherwise cold and joyless
nights to come. What he saw would be with him for longer than he'd
even imagined. The succession of events was rapid and frenetic, but
they played out for him in excruciatingly slow motion. The crabbed and
crooked ...P... that she drew with her tiny, shaking finger. The
torrent of hot metallic red that gushed forth onto him from her
wide-open lips. The CLENCH of her muscles, as she involuntarily
gripped him forever inside her.

Struck by the suddenness and the horror, Gaspar opened his mouth and
spoke the only word he'd ever speak in a toneless, unused voice. 

"Bippo." 

Squeezes,
Lisa Pea!


---
Cows are superior to soybean. Take a look at soybean. He can't    
walk. He can't speak. He doesn't play soccer.
                               Michael Lane and/or Jim Crotty 


Back To Part 4

Start again at Part 1

To the Right Loop

To the Crossthreads

To the Left Loop

Web site contents are Copyright © Captain Infinity Productions.
All Usenet posts reproduced herein are the copyrighted intellectual property of the poster named in the "From" header.