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From: dez187lm@hotmail.com (H.D. Meister)
Subject: {ASSM} Story: Fall In Love With Life Again - fall in love with life again.txt [1/1]
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Greetings. Here is another story from the Mind of H.D. Meister. If
you are not at least 18 or live in a community which does not allow
adult material, DO NOT READ THIS. Post freely, archive and critique as
you will so long as the work is not altered in any way, you do not
gain a profit from my work, and all due credit is given to the author:
me.
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Fall In Love With Life Again By: H.D. Meister (dez187lm@hotmail.com)
All I had wanted to do was die. I was alone and nothing seemed to
help. Alcohol... drugs... easy women... nothing. I had approached
the end of everything. Or so I had thought.
I had chosen a Sunday to be my last day on this Earth. Fitting since
I believed God had masterminded my demise. I was taking a walk around
the neighborhood, not really paying attention to the sights and sounds
of a hot Summer Sunday, and that's when I saw her.
I didn't really see her; I saw her pain. Its aura flowed around her
in strands of blackness. My curiosity has always been great, so I
made my way over to her and started a conversation Her name was
Kelly, and she had the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen on a woman.
Her voice was soft and kind, and even troubled she held herself in a
confident manner. As soon as I asked her what was wrong, I heard the
sound of laughter. But the joy in those tones was sadistic.. I
turned to see where the laughter was coming from and realized that I
was not more than twenty yards away from the community pool. There
was a well sculpted form of a man and an all too thin woman with fire
red hair. The sun bounced off of the woman's hair, showing the darker
roots of brown. And I knew.
Foolish. That's the only way to describe him. He had turned away
Kelly in order to be with that scrawny thing pretending to be a woman.
I could hear the venom drip from her laughter, and wished him the
worst of nights. As I got a look at the red head's face, I was
amazed; Kelly was much better looking that that evil visage.
I never bothered to listen to Kelly, and didn't know if she had
answered me. it really didn't matter; she was alone. Yet there was
a confidence about her that I found most perplexing. It was obvious
that she loved him, and the end of their relationship had caught her
off guard. Yet she still believed that she would be fine. With a
sigh, I faked a smile and told her that things would be better.
"I know they will," she spoke. Then I watched her as she walked away.
I wish I had her strength. When My Angela left me, I went crazy with
questions. Had I not been faithful? What had I done wrong? Did I
not shower her with love? What went wrong? And all I got as an
answer was, "If you have to ask, it's already too late."
I returned to my apartment and prepared to end my life. The .44
Magnum was loaded and mounted on the stand that I had built. The
barrel was pointed at the area where my head would be restrained. Two
shots would be fired, just in case the first didn't kill me
immediately. I had suffered enough in life. As I stood there,
looking at the Reaper in the form I had crafted, I saw Kelly’s face.
Angela had said that it was too late. Was it? Was it too late for
me? I asked myself this and expected the answer to come quickly. It
did not; no answer at all entered my mind. And I stood there,
waiting.
How many times since our parting of ways had I cruised the bars in
search of a replacement? I was so distraught that I found myself
using my pain to gain sympathy from whichever whore deemed me suitable
to fuck. And I fucked more than my share, spending many nights
entwined with some female form whose name I didn't care to ask for. I
spilled my seed where and when I wanted; all that mattered was that
she filled the vacancy left by Angela. None did. I would twist their
bodies into wild and exotic positions, forcing them to fit Her lithe
body. Assholes... mouths... cunts... tits... thighs... eyes. Not
one part of the female anatomy was spared my judgment or failed to
taste my seed. There were quite a few who were new to sex, and I did
not care. Age was not considered, nothing was. All I wanted was
another Angela. Was it too late for me?
I had walked through the woods with my mind bent and twisted by drugs,
searching for anything and nothing. Angela was always just beyond my
reach, her body flowing through shapes. Fat to rail thin and
everything in between. I watched us make love amongst the stars, and
even saw my hands smear the Milky Way over her nipples. I tasted the
star-dust between her thighs. I stroked her clit with the rings of
Jupiter. It was glorious. I was one with her, and we were a unit
unto ourselves. Then the haze would fade, and I found myself alone
again. Was it too late.
And still I stood there. Like a robot waiting for commands, I stood
motionless. Then I wondered what would become of Kelly? She was
strong and would survive, but how? I became filled with the urge to
observe how she survived such a blow. Would she walk into the bars
and clubs and find the nearest approximation to a man and bed it?
Would she turn to drink and drugs? How was she going to survive?
It was three weeks before I met her again. Nothing had changed,
except the blackness surrounding her had faded to a thin gray. I
spoke to her again. The conversation did not last more than three
seconds, but it was all that was needed. When I asked her how she was
doing, she said, "I'm making it." And in those words I learned.
So now I sit, my head braced in place. I'm looking down the barrel of
my Magnum. And as I close my eyes, I think. I think. I think. And
learn.
(dez187lm@hotmail.com)
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