Archive for the Much Too Good For Children Category

When All Else Fails… (Listen to the voice)

Posted in Crazy Zen Wisdom, Much Too Good For Children, Observations of a Recovering Buddhist on February 17, 2018 by dreamlanddancing

 

I have practiced Zen Buddhism and meditation for over thirty years, but to this day I am quite quick to point out that I am still not a very good Buddhist.

When I was much younger, I used to hear the phrase “practice makes perfect,” but it wasn’t until much later that the more correct concept “perfect practice makes perfect” really sunk in.

My guiding principles have been Compassion, Gratitude, Loving-Kindness, and acceptance of my temporary conditions.

It has not been an easy journey.

Most of the best realizations have come as a result of unhappy circumstances and situations that forced me to reassess the paradigms that got me into those conditions, which is not really that surprising considering the fact that when we are comfortable, we have a tendency to become complacent and lazy.

The last two years have been particularly productive, due to an almost unending series of calamities, mostly involving illness, hospitalizations, and medical misadventures.

Enough of that; it’s not really my point, but rather a lead-in to set up the following paradigm shift.

No matter how diligently we try, if we are unconsciously clinging to something that is blocking our process of spiritual evolution, little progress can be made beyond a certain point.

Harsh circumstances tend to seemingly justify bitterness, self-pity, and negativity, and I was carrying more emotional baggage on that front than I had ever realized.

In retrospect, childhood abuse and trauma may have triggered the emotional predispositions toward depersonalization syndrome, low self-esteem, and my need to seek opportunities for heroism, leading to an eventual backlog of PTSD that has taken me years to only partially overcome.

But as the old saw goes, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.

And negativity can completely obfuscate and mislead everything, everywhere you look.

Last week, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few items for dinner, including two of the thickest, most beautiful steaks I had ever seen.

I was almost completely preoccupied with the seemingly endless arguments that eventually ensue within my own mind, and did not realize until I was pulling into my own driveway that I must have either left the items in the grocery cart beside my vehicle, or in the checkout lane before I had even left the store.

Now, completely consumed with self-depreciating rage, I raced back to the store, only a mile away, certain that the items would be long gone before I returned.

(I live near what can only be described as a marginal neighborhood at best, and although I had almost no hope of any pleasant outcome, certain that I would be the subject of ridicule from my spouse, since we still needed something to eat, I had to return anyway.)

As I turned into the parking lot, I thought to myself “What the fuck would it take for the Universe to give me a break for once?”

OKOKOK…(I sometimes hear a voice inside my head; that voice has literally saved my life on a number of occasions, so I would be remiss not to credit the source.)

What I heard was this: “Well, what would it take for you to give the Universe a break for once?”

As I was in no mood for enlightenment at that point, I thought “Probably more than I am likely to get any time soon” (or something to that effect).

All the spaces near where I had parked were now occupied, but I stopped to ask a teenage employee who was gathering up the carts left in the lot if she had seen the now seemingly lost items.

She said no, but suggested I go to the front of the store where the other carts are kept.

I noticed a woman leaving the area with three very rowdy, ungovernable young children in a cart going toward the store, and of course immediately suspected her, but since I could not see the other contents of the cart I found myself thinking (only slightly sympathetically) that with a brood like that, she would be better off robbing banks than purloining my steaks.

I decided it would be less than either useless or wise to ask her.

Now in a complete panic of self-pity, I parked in the blue-lined area next to an already occupied handicapped space, left the motor running and ran to the front of the store.

As I ran up, before I could even ask, another teenaged employee who was lining up the carts suddenly turned to me and  said “I’ll bet you’re looking for these” and handed me my groceries.

For the briefest of moments, she basked in the refection of my flabbergasted glow of appreciation, then quickly and cheerfully returned to her work.

Even she seemed to know that she was neither the star nor the recipient of the intended point of this lesson; even the steaks were no longer the center of my attention, (and after all, no matter how perfectly I prepared them, eventually all my best work would be turned to shit).

“All is impermanence.”

But I also got my answer.

The Universe is a two-way street.

 

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

02/17/2018

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things, Part VI, Chapter Twenty Three

Posted in Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on January 28, 2018 by dreamlanddancing

 

Elliott quickly produced six “perfect margaritas” using the Dragon Drops.

As the four women and two men held their glasses aloft, Jed announced “To better days and happier endings; to old friends and new alliances alike wherever it should lead us from here.”

“I’ll second that.” As Chiana spoke, all eyes turned to her. Perhaps it was her eagerness that everyone detected by the change in the tone of her voice that betrayed the thoughts that she found herself entertaining that caused her to blush so floridly, and as she felt her cheeks warming she became even more embarrassed; as if suddenly everyone else knew the fantasy she had been brewing in her mind while Jed had been speaking.

There comes a time in almost all relationships that one, the other, or both parties come to believe that they’ve already heard every joke, every quote, and every opinion that their significant other has to offer before.

Often, it is because there has been nothing new in either of their lives to provoke original thought, inspiration, or even lurid fantasies. Instead of another year, it is more like three hundred and sixty five of the same days passing without notice or challenge other than having to suppress the desire to change your name, forge a new set of credentials for a career you’ve never attempted before, and move to another state at least five hundred miles from your current location.

(Or maybe that’s just me….)

Both China and Elliott already knew that they were deep within the horse latitudes of their lives, and no matter how much they loved each other, it would take some sort of personal growth (and there is no growth without pain), and the sort of challenge that takes you so far past the limits of what you ever dreamed you were capable that you find yourself facing your deepest secret fears, as well as monstrous amounts of humility to possibly succeed.

In situations like this it is understandably difficult to resist the impulse to judge, or accuse, but the friendship and love that they had developed over the years had enabled their abilities to support each other.

And most importantly, the trust that they had nurtured between them demanded it.

Six adults; four women and two men; one of the men has had the distinct privilege of the most intimate knowledge of all four, but with the exception of one of the women, not recently. The other man has known only three of the women.

All these facts were about to change.

As they continued to drink, they kissed, fondled, and teased each other provocatively.

Amy and Rebecca were enjoying how titillated Elliott was becoming as he watched the women kissing and petting each other before taking turns playfully touching and teasing him. Although both of them had slept with him, it had been more than ten years since he had seen Amy before he ever met Rebel, and another five years before Amy Rogers was to meet Jeanette Rogers (Rebel’s birth name) only to discover that although the only relations that they had in common were purely sexual and emotional, and with Elliott.

Although Leigh-Ann had been playfully aloof with Elliott, Chiana soon discovered that Leigh-Ann seemed to be encouraging her and Jed by flirting and teasing each of them, at first separately and then jointly, yet all the while subtly pushing them together.

Both women had felt a natural affinity for each other just by the nature of their personalities, as well as the fact that they both were nurses.

Chiana did not feel the same way about Amy and Rebel, which could have been awkward, were it not for the fact that they were effectively distracting Elliott sufficiently as to allow her to pursue her growing lust for Jed without guilt or embarrassment.

The only real lack of congruency between her and Elliott had been polyamory. Swinging, or an open relationship was quite natural for both of them, but it was Elliott who had introduced the concept of being open to possibly loving the same people they were fucking.

Chiana had felt a strange, decidedly uneasy stirring within herself almost from the minute she and Jed had met, and it was clear that Jed was similarly affected by Chiana.

The only time she had ever felt that before was when she and Elliott had met.

And for the first time ever, Chiana had to admit that maybe…just maybe…Elliott had been right all along.

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things, Part V, Chapter Twenty-Two

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Margarita, Much Too Good For Children, Once Upon a Blue Agave Moon, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on January 13, 2018 by dreamlanddancing

 

Elliott next produced a large growler of remarkably clear, dark green liquid. He held it aloft for dramatic effect with the flourish of a circus ringmaster.

“Ladies and gentleman…I bring you the famed Dragon Drops. While Absinth may be known as ‘The Green Fairy’ it would be better to regard my Dragon Drops as ‘The Green Monster’.

He revolved slowly as he spoke to make eye contact with everyone in the dining room, just a pleased as a proud father of a newborn child as he continued.

“I began the mash with cattail root and sugar beets to make the mash which was so sweet that it required very little sugar, and brewed it in a two-stage fermentation process using first a champagne yeast, which is highly alcohol resistant, followed by a very bright ale yeast that I fortified with Vegemite, and Barr’s Liquid Amino acids to additionally nourish the yeast cells. Back when you could buy it commercially, they called it ‘Turbo Yeast’. All the brew-related yeasts are very difficult to obtain so I now keep batches of both growing continually, much like a sourdough culture.”

As he continued, he lowered the bottle until it was cradled in his left arm, as one might hold an infant.

“The final pitched wort was almost twenty percent alcohol by weight…not twenty proof, which is only ten percent…but twenty percent equals forty proof; as strong as a fortified wine, ‘like Mad Dog 20/20’.

Elliott clearly loved an audience, especially this one, and he had their total and undivided attention.

“By using a thumper during the distillation process, it is for all intents and purposes double distilled and yields approximately one hundred and fifty proof on the first pass, which represents seventy-five percent alcohol by weight. The second pass yields about ninety-five percent alcohol, or one hundred and ninety proof…almost pure alcohol.”

He stopped for just a moment for effect as Jed whistled and Amy reacted with a “yikes!”.

“Remember Everclear? Just about the same thing, except my version is still alembic, or ‘pot-distilled’, rather than column-distilled, like most commercial vodkas, which strips most of the taste from it” he added.

Rebel, almost dead-pan most of the time, seemed to be enjoying a bit of nostalgia as her normally sloe-eyed expression betrayed a faint smile. Most men never noticed these moments because they were usually too preoccupied with staring at her gigantic tits. This often allowed her to indulge herself to stretch out her few words so slowly that it was like waiting for ketchup to pour.

“My Daddy blew up his still trying to make a batch of ninety proof. I used to beg him not to drink when he was cookin’ but he was one hard-headed som’bitch who thought he already knew more than any woman could ever learn, and saw no reason to heed the words of a thirteen year old girl.”

With that, a dark cloud passed over her face as she said “It cost that dirty bastard his life…as much as I loved him, I can’t say I missed him being drunk all the time and sneaking into my bedroom after Momma fell asleep…the night before he got killed was the last time he ever fucked me….”

Suddenly, the sound of several crickets outside doing their two-legged sonata of the ‘Ode to a Woolen Sweater’ seemed much louder than before.

“Every year on the anniversary of his death, I would go to the grave site and wait ’til no one was around, and piss on his grave…what stage of the grieving process do you think that would that fall under, Doc?”

“Revenge and Reconciliation…that’s one you won’t find in any books, but sometimes it is necessary…and certainly justifiable, if you ask me, my dear Lola.”

The pall that fell over the room was suddenly so dark that it seemed like the temperature in the room had fallen ten degrees. Whether you knew her as Rebel, Rebecca, or Jeanette, any tears shed by her in front of anyone were far more rare than either fossilized chicken teeth or copies of “Self-Defense and Marksmanship for Democrats (and other Dummies).”

As Amy wiped away the solitary tear, Elliott kissed her on the forehead.

“At the risk of sounding insensitive, I believe you were telling us about the Dragon Drops…?” Leigh-Ann was sometimes more passionate than most, but she had an uncanny knack for keeping almost any situation on track.

Elliott continued. “Well, extracting decarboxylated THC requires at least seventy-five percent ethanol to work best, and once I added the other ingredients to help mask the somewhat grassy taste that the marijuana left, I wanted to be sure that the resulting mixture wasn’t excessively diluted.”

“As it is, the orange tincture tastes much like Cointreau, and is usually about one hundred and ten proof, or fifty-five percent alcohol. The lime tincture is made from soaking crushed Key Limes, which grow all over the property in the same one hundred and ten proof alcohol, plus a fair amount of simple sugar syrup (which we also make here) but the alcohol content of the lime tincture is about ninety proof.”

“In short, Dragon Drops enable us to make a perfect top-shelf Margarita that contains enough Tetrahydrocannabinol to equal the effect of smoking about a half-gram of the finest Kush (which we also grow here).”

“I do not recommend more than four, unless you wish to experience something approximating an acid trip. I have considered diluting the Dragon Drops a little, but I rarely drink more than two of these in an evening. It has been many years since I would drink half a liter of tequila shooters in one sitting….”

“Thank God for that! I remember those days…and not especially fondly.”

Leigh-Ann was the first to volunteer an opinion, which was quickly seconded and re-affirmed by everyone except Chiana.

“It sounds like I should be grateful for that.” she said.

“Let me put it this way…” Amy winced slightly as she spoke. “Elliott was never what I would call a ‘mean drunk,’ but he could get to be very reckless to the point of being dangerous, and well….”

“A real asshole…not mean, just stupid.” Rebel interjected. “…No disrespect intended, Doc.”

“And none taken, but OK, we get your point. Even sober I still have fairly shitty judgment, and if I wasn’t one of the luckiest people on the planet, I would have been dead years ago.”  Elliott laughingly conceded.

“So who wants Margaritas?” he asked.

Chazz Vincent

01/13/2018

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things, Pt. III

Posted in Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on November 29, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

As Elliottt and Chiana walked into the room, Jed was pouring shots into six   glasses from a quart Mason jar.

All eyes turned to face Chiana, who came in first, quite magnificently nude and smiling broadly, towel slung over her left shoulder. She knew she looked good; having taken great efforts to maintain good nutrition and exercise regularly. She still shaved everything but her eyebrows and head, and spared no small amount of oils and emollients that kept her skin smooth, and soft, yet firm to the touch. She, along with several of her fellow “Sisters of the Moon” refined and blended the ingredients themselves, as well as natural hair care products that they universally agreed were superior to the previously available commercial products.

Amy, Rebecca, and Leigh-Ann all looked much better than when they had arrived, owing to the benefits of hot running water and soaps; life on the road was obviously hard, and although they were in excellent physical condition and well-tanned, their faces showed the effects of stress, wind, and sun. Their hair resembled a sort of marginally maintained train wreck that had crashed into a haystack, compared to Chiana’s well-cared tresses.

Chiana did not need to gloat. In fact, the kindness and warmth that she extended  to everyone was made even more conspicuous by the sincere, but self-confident aura that she projected. She knew she looked good, in fact great, considering the fact that most of the rest of the world was more concerned with either starvation, or the likelihood of being eaten.

In fact, the Three Winds made her more aware of how fortunate she and Elliott were, which triggered compassion, rather than competition for these women.

Jed broke the conspicuous silence.

“Hey guys, just in time…I took the liberty of borrowing a knife, some glasses, a small saucer and some salt. You’ll recognize the product once you taste it…It’s some of your tequila that you traded with the guy who got you the copper sheet metal you needed. It has created a demand for more of it than you can imagine, especially since I took the liberty of having labels printed, once we dispensed it in the pint, and quart jars.”

Jed held the jar aloft to display the label, which read Blue Agave Moon.

It was quite impressive. Printed on unglazed oatmeal-colored paper, it showed the silhouette of a palm tree on the edge of the shoreline of the ocean at night, the reflection of the full moon arising from the water was captivating and curiously soothing, seeming to trigger memories of earlier, happier times.

“Y’know, Doc, I designed that label long before we knew it was your product, but I don’t think I would have changed a thing if I had.” If Rebel did not had the most alluring eyes, her seemingly deliberately slow drawl would have prompted most people to become impatient with her self-indulgence as she continued, while the words flowed like warm honey.

“But once Jed figured out it was you we were looking for, I just had to laugh, ‘cause even though none of us suspected it, we had to agree that you were always the wild card…you seemed to have a knack for coming out of nowhere with some crazy ideas that wouldn’t occur to most people…but I gotta admit that once I  thought about it a bit more, well it brought a few tears to my eyes…we’ve all missed you, Doc, and I sure hope this works out for all of us.”

“We have come to depend on each other in ways I never thought was possible, but I knew that you would be the one to complete the circle…and then I met Chiana…I gotta admit that you are one lucky son of a bitch, and I sure don’t want to get on her bad side, so I guess I will have to behave myself…but…”

As she spoke, a tear ran down her face as she extended her arms to Elliott, who reached out to hug her, just as Amy grabbed his towel, giggling as she ran away with it.

Elliott started to back away, just as Rebel trapped his now rigid cock between her thighs, as she purred in a stage whisper “Now come on Doc, no need to get shy now…it may have been long time ago, but we’ve all seen that notorious pecker of yours before, so lighten up and give me a hug for old times sake.”

With that, she grabbed his ass with both hands and drew him toward her, playfully rubbing her gigantic breasts against him as she did.

All eyes turned to Chiana, who just smiled and shook her head, clearly amused, before she said “OK, look…fair is fair…if Elliott has to shed his towel, then so does Jed…unless anyone has any objections…right?”

As she spoke, she watched Amy sneak up behind Jed, who winked at Chiana just as she snatched his towel as well.

“OK!OK!OK!” Jed was noticeably flushed, but he never took his eyes off Chiana, who was dying to see Jed’s cock, although it would have required breaking eye contact with him.

She only hesitated for a little less than the longest three seconds she could ever remember.

“Time for a toast…to our hosts, and to Blue Agave Moon!”

Jed held up the tray that contained the six shots, the limes, and salt.

“Doc, I think you’re gonna have a helluva time walking over there…Leigh-Ann, honey, once everybody else has got their glasses, would you be a darlin’ and bring the tray over here?”

Rebecca knew she was pushing the envelope and she could feel Elliott stiffen (in more ways than one) as she continued to rub his cock between her thighs very subtlety, but quite effectively and she was enjoying watching him squirm.

“Hey, look…I am staying absolutely neutral in this event until I know where we all stand…you’re going to have to figure those logistics out for yourself.” Leigh-Ann watched Chiana’s expression closely as she spoke.

In fact, all eyes were on Chiana, who deferentially made contact with Elliott. She then smiled as she closed her eyes, turned her head slightly to the side and rolled her tongue inside her mouth as she pushed it against the left side of her cheek as she then pulled her lips inward and smiled, moving her head very slightly from side to side, clearly amused.

She knew that in giving her blessing, she was granting herself free rein, even though she knew she always had Elliott’s encouragement.

With that, Elliott suddenly grasped Rebel’s ass and he hoisted her up past his waist as he slowly but firmly impaled her, before walking over to Jed to retrieve their drinks.

As she squirmed licentiously, a fly that was buzzing against the kitchen screen trying to get in was startled by the sound of a pin dropping somewhere inside the house.

Chiana then gently clinked her glass against first Rebecca’s, then Elliott’s glass before raising it as she turned to the group. “To new beginnings!”

“And happy endings!” quipped Amy as Chiana entwined her arm around Jed’s to toss back the shot as he reciprocated the gesture.

It was proving to be a very interesting evening, and the sun was only just then beginning to set.

Chazz Vincent

11/28/2017

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things, Pt II Chapter Nineteen

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on September 22, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

Most of the rest of the late afternoon was relatively uneventful; bathing, eating and drinking occupied most of their attention before getting ready to sleep.

Chiana was not especially surprised that Rebel, Amy and Leigh-Ann did not bother to cover up or clothe afterwards nearly as much as she was surprised to see that Jed did, although it was just to simply wrap a towel around his waist.

She also noticed that Elliott was making a concerted effort to not stare or seem preoccupied by any of it. She thought it was sweet of him to give so much deference to doing everything he could not to arouse any jealousy in her, although the fact that Jed had bothered to cover up was more than a little bit of a disappointment. He was very easy on the eyes, and his well-muscled body sparked no small amount of curiosity about his manhood, now barely covered in a beach towel.

Finally, Chiana and Elliott excused themselves long enough to take a much-needed shower, once their guests were finished. They were both intrigued by the provocative remarks and nudity and they spoke briefly about it as they helped each other wash.

Chiana told Elliott she understood it if he felt curious about what it would be like to be with any of the other three women with whom he had once been so familiar, adding that she had no small amount of curiosity about Jed herself. They knew each other well enough not to be coy about their feelings, and Elliott finally asked her outright if she wanted to fuck Jed, even though he already knew that answer hours ago.

What was important was frank honesty; the balance between full disclosure and kindness might have been difficult for some couples, but they were certainly no strangers to the lifestyle. Minimizing or trivializing their desires and curiosities would only trigger suspicion and insecurity in each other. It had been a very long time since they had gone down this path together, owing to their isolation within the colony, although they had several friends with whom they had discussed testing the waters, who were friends of Chiana’s, and sisters of the Moon.

It had mostly just been idle pillow-talk so far, and they tended to be a bit more guarded and a great deal less impetuous than they had been back before the Apocalypse. It was a small community, and despite the generally broad-minded atmosphere, there would be no place to hide or escape if any misunderstandings arose.

Chiana also knew that Elliott and Jed had been very careful in the past about not jeopardizing their friendship as far as their involvement with the same women. She also knew about both Jed and Elliott’s original unspoken agreement concerning Amy, although it certainly appeared that bridge had already been crossed some time ago.

Elliott explained that they had indulged in quite a few threesomes with casual acquaintances, but also admitted that Amy had been quite special to him, and that had been the reason that Jed had kept her at arm’s length, which suited Elliott well enough at the time.

Before she left and got married, they had both been very close with Leigh-Ann, but had never bedded her together, although in retrospect, he wasn’t really sure why they hadn’t; she was so independent they were both sure that if that had been her desire, it would have happened on her schedule and terms.

He also added that he was prepared to accept Chiana’s attraction for Jed, and encouraged her to talk about her desires.

She finally overcame her trepidation over Elliott’s reaction and asked him outright. “What’s he like in bed? In mean, I know you’ve had the chance to observe him with other women…and I know it’s been a long time, but you know what I like…and maybe it’s just idle curiosity, but is he really good…what’s he like?”

“Well, at least back then, he was like a stallion. Very energetic, but sensitive and tender. There was certainly at least a little competitiveness between us when we were just partying. All the other women worshipped the ground he walked upon, but I never understood why Patty was such a domineering bitch to him. Sometimes I wasn’t really sure if she really even loved him at all. And he would have done anything for her, just to please her…”

“OK, but you know what I am going to ask: what’s his cock like? Is it bigger than yours? Would that bother you? I mean, we picked up a few hostages years ago…like that dancer from the Copa…what was his name? Christ! He was fucking huge, and that didn’t seem to bother you then, in fact I really think it turned you on didn’t it?

“One question at a time, OK? Elliott laughed as he added “Yes, watching Steve fuck your brains out for over two hours was probably one of the most erotic things I’ve ever witnessed first-hand, and I have to admit I was amazed to watch you deep-throat him. I also knew that there have been quite a few extraordinarily well-endowed men in your life before I met you, and yes, it was a turn-on.”

As Elliott spoke, Chiana noticed that he seemed to be getting aroused by the conversation.

“As far as Jed is concerned, he is maybe an inch or two longer than me, but not nearly as thick, although you should know that he is uncircumcised…I know that has been a turn-off for you in the past, but at the risk of sounding a bit gay, I have to say he has a truly beautiful cock.”

“Why? Did you two ever…you know, maybe it was late and you were both high, and well, one thing led to another…just out of curiosity?” Chiana asked rather playfully.

“God no! Jed is one hundred per cent hetero, at least as far as I know…although if he had tried have his way with me back then, if we had been high and no one else was around, I doubt I would have even tried to stop him, so believe me, I understand the attraction, even though I never could have let him know.”

“Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe he felt the same way?” she countered.

“It never once occurred to me, really…I mean. you’ve seen his demeanor, and as long as I have known him, he never gave any indication of any tendencies in that direction, so I would have to say no, or at least, I don’t think so.” Chiana noticed that Elliott seemed slightly uncomfortable by the sudden turn in the dialogue.

“Well, let’s be perfectly honest…I don’t think anyone would ever guess what kind of depravity goes through your mind, at least as far as the same sex goes, right?” There was mischief in Chiana’s eyes as she spoke.

“I can’t help feeling that you are trying to change the subject to deflect to focus away from you….” Elliott seemed slightly uncomfortable, but not really upset by the turn of the conversation.

“Oh no, not at all…and I am sorry I gave you that impression, so let’s be perfectly clear. I would like nothing better than to find out exactly what he is like in bed. I can’t wait to put his cock in my mouth, uncut or not and suck it till he is so hard he can’t wait to fuck me long, deep and repeatedly.” There was playful sincerity in her eyes as she spoke, knowing that the hot talk would not go unappreciated by Elliott.

She quickly added “I’m not trying to be mean, and I asked you first about how you felt about it. I would never do anything to hurt your feelings or jeopardize our love for each other, but I want that man so badly I can hardly contain myself. I get soaking wet every time I think about it, but I want you to be there with me when it happens, if you want, or you can see if Amy and you can still strike up any sparks if she is interested, or Amy and Rebel for that matter, although I’m still not too sure about Leigh-Ann; she’s not an easy read at all.”

Chiana continued “I think it is really sweet that you have been so careful not to do anything to make me feel any jealousy over having three former lovers suddenly show up on our doorstep, but I think this time the glove is on the other hand. We didn’t plan any of this any more than we planned the collapse of the entire Western world.”

“The truth is that we have both been a little stir-crazy; call it cabin fever or whatever you want, but we have not had a lot of options until today. We made the best of a very bad situation, and it led us here, and we have managed to attain a better standard of living than we ever knew before, and I can’t help feeling that this is right.” Chiana smiled slightly a she gave Elliott’s right nipple a slight pinch and a twist.

She added, ”Neither one of us should have to stifle our feelings, or even our impulses. Let’s just see where that leads us. We’ve lost a lot of the spontaneity that we had when we were younger. We can’t reclaim our youth, but we can re-discover our impulses and maybe find a way to enjoy some of the craziness and joy we knew when we were younger and less cautious.” Chiana knew exactly how to reach Elliott when she wanted something.

Elliott nodded in agreement as his previously limp tool began to swell. “OK, so what’s the next step?”

With that, Chiana got on her knees and took Elliott’s cock deep into the back of her throat as she stroked it with both hands until he was hard as a rock.

Quite pleased with herself, Chiana sat back on her haunches and admired the handiwork of her efforts. Elliott was well above average in length, but his girth was a real jaw-dropper because it was as thick as Elliott’s wrist.

“OK, that should give them something to talk about.” she said. “See if you can wrap that towel around yourself and let’s go out and see what happens next.”

“I don’t know about wrapping it around me, but right now I could probably just hang the towel over it.” He chuckled.

As Chiana started to leave, Elliott asked her if she was going to use a towel to cover herself.

“No, I think the ladies’ dress code for tonight is au naturel, but if Jed is going to wear a towel I think you should too…at least for now.”

As Chiana finished drying herself with her towel, she threw it over her shoulder and grabbed Elliott’s hand to go back out into the parlor where their guests were waiting.

I may need this for later,” she said as she winked at him.

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

09/22/2017

 

 

Once In a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things

Posted in Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, The Knowledge of Good and Evil, The Liberation Through Hearing on August 4, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

True to form, Amy, Rebel, and Leigh-Ann all walked into the dining room in time to hear Chiana’s last question, as well as Jed’s answer, as he still held out his hand palm up, with the bright blue capsules containing The Knowledge.

Amy feigned a stage whisper from the side of her mouth: “I told you there was no hurry….”

Rebel just smiled and shook her head, winking at Chiana as she caught her glance.

Leigh-Ann, clearly amused, simply changed the subject. “This would probably be a good time to start showering and cleaning up. If that’s OK with you, where do we go?”

“Let me show you; it’s at the end of the hall. We’re very proud of what we have built in there. We did a lot of horse-trading and foraging to get what we wanted.” Chiana got up and walked over to the door and opened it. She made a sweeping gesture with her right hand as she did.

Amy and Rebel followed the two of them.

“Ta-da! Ladies, I hope this will help you forget that we are on the edge of the Post-Apocalyptic Everglades. The closet is filled with oils, emollients, soaps, bath salts, candles and incense. Much of it was gathered and prepared by me. The water is very hot, by the way, and we even have a steam jet over here.”

“The floor is unglazed tile, and there is a drain in the center. In addition to the commode, there is a bidet. Elliot couldn’t resist it…he really does everything he can to spoil me…I thought I could have done without it, but it was part of a deal we arranged when we got the tub, and all the marble, and I have to admit, I’m glad he did.”

“Holy shit! The Three Winds blurted simultaneously.

A redwood bench ran along one wall.

“What? No togas?” Rebel laughed. “Just kidding…I saw something like this in a mansion in LA once; one of the producers for Cal-Vista owned a house where we shot a film, and it wasn’t nearly as nice as this.”

“I gotta say, I am really impressed, but Amy and I better wait until after everybody else is finished before we go and use up all the hot water.” Rebel gave Chiana a knowing look as she gave Amy’s buttocks a soft squeeze.

“Y’all can draw straws to decide who goes first, but don’t worry about the hot water. We have a five-hundred gallon cistern that is initially solar heated, and stays quite warm year-round, which is then boosted up to one hundred twenty five degrees with an electric heater that also produces steam if you like.” Chiana looked like a proud parent on graduation day as she showed off the bathroom.

“I already turned on the generator before we started to eat, so it’s ready to go…and we have never run out of hot water, even if we were entertaining, so be our guests.”

“Elliott wasn’t joking when he said we have almost everything we need or want, and I can’t think of anyone with whom we would rather share our good fortune…besides, this is a big weekend to be enjoyed by all. Samhain, a full moon, and a blue moon….” Chiana’s voice trailed off as Rebel interjected:

“You know darlin’, we have a lot in common…more than I realized. We’ve been on the road so much lately than I haven’t paid much attention to the moon and the stars, but I think we have more than a few things to share this weekend…after we get clean and refreshed.” The Wiccan references did not go unnoticed by Rebel.

“I’m really looking forward to it, and thank you so much for your hospitality; it says a lot about your character, and I admire that.” Rebel, who was usually short on words and long on delivery, was clearly in no hurry as her rich drawl resonated off the marble. As she finished, she gently touched Chiana’s forearm.

(“So she has a soft spot after all.” thought Chiana, “Well good; maybe I can trust her. I could use an ally.”)

(“Of course you can. I only play tough when I think I have to, and I dare say, you are a pretty easy read…I mean that in a good way. Once you get to really know me, you’ll feel more comfortable with the intuition we share.”) Rebel looked deeply into Chiana’s eyes as she returned her gaze.

(“Well OK then…I hope you’re right.”) Chiana thought. She did not seem alarmed by the way their thoughts were so clearly conveyed between them.

(“If you can trust yourself to hear me, you will know I am right, and that this is as real as it gets.”) Rebel knew her words had hit their mark.

Both women stood there for just a moment longer. Sometimes it is hard to trust your heart to hear what words can only imply, if you have just the right chance with just the right person. To know….

(You know I have tried The Knowledge twice…but the fact that you can already hear me…read me if you will, means you’ve got a big headstart on this whole process. I’m really looking forward to the chance to share our knowledge.”) 

(“How do you know I will agree to take it?”)

(“Because I already know…and so do you. It’s in our future.”)

“Ladies if you don’t mind, then, I’ll go first.” If Leigh-Ann was privy to their intuitive dialogue, she gave no indication of it.

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

08/03/2017

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: One Nation Verboten

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Economic Redistribution, Much Too Good For Children, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on June 17, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

“As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”

(H. L. Mencken, writing for the Baltimore Evening Sun on 26 July 1920)

Although this quote was written many years before, it was not until the election of George W. Bush to the presidency that it seemed that indeed, the “chickens had finally come home to roost”  and Mencken’s prophesy had in fact been fulfilled,

This was followed shortly thereafter by a change in the economy from the first (inherited) budget surplus in almost one hundred years into a seventeen trillion dollar deficit, and the near-collapse of the American, and eventually, World Economies whose bailout was carried on the backs of the working Middle-Class to protect the privileges of those whose short-sighted greed and excess had caused it.

(It would have been far cheaper and more logical after all, to put the bankers and the legislators who abetted them in jail, buy the houses from the banks at cost, rather than at their added ballon-payment interest rates, and let the people pay back the same government that would have saved the bankers, rather than their homes, for instance.)

But of course, the nationalization of that much real estate to do something effective to aid our own people and save the economy without regard to the protection of a corrupt group of privileged insiders would undoubtedly end up being labeled as “Socialist” and we have already been conditioned to hate even a little potential Communism far more than an endless amount of Corruption.

But it wasn’t until the election of 2016 that perhaps the most sinister aspect of that predication, which had somehow gone unnoticed became glaringly apparent, although it is in the first, not the last sentence that our doom was prophesied.

“…As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people…”

It took the mind of an only marginally intelligent or sane home-grown political strategist who had built his fortunes upon treachery, lies, smoke and mirrors, emotional drama, blackmail, dis-information, denial and fraud, being totally without any scruples, and little substance to mange to become a culture-hero able to align and rally paranoid, anti-intellectual religious simpletons, racists, jingoistic xenophobes, misogynists and most businessmen into one unified voting body politic in order to get himself elected to the presidency of a country so full of angry, fearful, superstitious and mean-spirited pricks that his victory was guaranteed long before the first ballot was cast.

And “the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last….”

(Even if only by being at best considered by too many who saw him as “the lesser of two evils.”)

Given the choice between even a nominally intellectual or educated usurper of the will of the people, with her own history of fraud, lies and deceptions who at least preached tolerance and understanding, and a clearly unbalanced and emotionally retarded snake-oil salesman:

Always bet on large groups of stupid people to do the bidding of the sort of cynical crook who will convince them of things he himself does not believe, but thinks they are ignorant enough to accept.

Always bet on those charlatans to channel the hatred, fear, and resentments of those so enslaved by their own beliefs that they profess to even love their collars and chains; who will do no end of evil at his bidding and surrender the very rights they profess to love, to protect what they are allowed to call their freedom.

…To never underestimate the potential for the tyranny of evil men to prevail.

(After all, many, if not most of the entire animal kingdom will go so far as to kill or even eat each other under the right circumstances allowed by their respective tribe or pack, much like what humans call Justifiable Homicide.)

Animals however, rarely kill anything they don’t eat, (except for the males, whenever mating rights or territory are involved) and they don’t have to hate their dinner in order to kill or eat it.

It should not have surprised the Liberal/Intellectual Left-Behinds that no matter how blatantly false or illogical the pronouncements or actions of this Mussolini-esque harlequin, no matter how loud their protests or indignations (as well as those of the rest of the world), nothing changed amongst his supporters, who managed to keep him in power and seemed as ubiquitous as Christ on the Cross, Mickey Mouse, and Coca-Cola.

…And their anger, hatred and fear was as vast and unlimited as the Pacific.

Then, suddenly, several months before his re-election, in the middle of what promised to be the mother of all last stands of liberal opposition determined to prevent his re-election (which was undoubtedly doomed to yet another crushing failure), within three days time, first the Federal Reserve Banks were destroyed and rendered radioactive by terrorists for almost purely psychological purposes, and then The Armageddon Virus drained the world banking systems of all of their collective assets, and finally rendered the entire Internet, as well as any and all computers using it useless.

Much like Stuxnet, it contained many interlocking Zero-Day vulnerabilities and Doomsday self-destruct sequences targeting not only the computers themselves, but also any equipment connected to or controlled by it.

In a world devoid of either computers, Faith, or Money, the infrastructure of the Western world collapsed in less than a week, with no police or troops to control the riots or looting, and no firemen to put out the flames or paramedics to take anyone to the failed hospital systems.

No public safety, public or private schools, electricity, clean running water, solid waste treatment plants, mass transit, mass media, or grocery stores, but plenty of mass hysteria.

No Social Security. No unemployment compensation or disability checks. No public dole of any kind.

By the time that he became the first president to commit suicide, there was no news media in any form to report it, few interested in reading it, and no one ready to step up to the plate to assume the chain of command of a wrecked nation in flames.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the natural ascendancy of self-determination, ruthless pragmatism, life-sustaining skill-sets, and as always, blind luck and questionable circumstances would produce the leaders, movers and shakers, producers and reapers of the boundless opportunities created by way of mass economic re-distribution, but it would be an agonizingly long time at best.

And maybe…just maybe for the first time since the beginnings of recorded history, it would not be determined by wealth, position, social status or privilege, inherited aristocracies or fortunes, sex, race, religious, or ethnic affiliation…at least not at first.

(Keep in mind, it’s not so much that human nature was changed all that much, but it would of course, take time to establish who’s gang was the most powerful; even if only for the fleetest blink of a second, that field was leveled long enough to provide a window of opportunity for the truly smartest and the fittest to not only survive, but flourish and thrive….)

This is the type of self-determinism that would have given Heinlein an erection (were he still alive) while he tried to use “the present state of affairs” to explain to the ghost of Ayn Rand the paucities of Objectivism, now that Reverse Evolution had been stopped dead in its tracks.

In the blink of an eye, the perspectives of nearly every living human on the planet changed, although generally in proportion to just how much privilege they had lost.

Americans, the most pampered and spoiled of all, went from whining about pay raises, real or imagined sarcasms, their feelings of low self-esteem, their endless blame-shifting and refusal to accept responsibility for their own present circumstances,  feeling unappreciated or undervalued, or the insensitive remarks of anyone in general, to being genuinely thankful for not being killed, raped, and/or eaten, let alone worrying from where their next meal was to come.

They had taken so much for granted for so long that they forgot:

> how good it is just to not be a part of the food chain, or

what it takes to be a real top predator.

> what it’s like to be totally dependent upon and responsible for their own thoughts and actions to determine the length and quality of their lives.

> that nothing is either forgiven or forgotten, much less guaranteed.

> that you do not require forgiveness for Sins invented and created in someone else’s image.

> that only your family, clan, or tribe will be there to pick you up and help you get back on your feet when you fall…if you are lucky.

> …the rest will only be there to pick your pockets and bones.

> that every day is Judgement Day.

> that no amount of money will replace the memory of your everyday lives as your family grew up and you grew old, or the fact that you learned to value it too late.

> what they gave up when they traded their lives for money, and their Instincts for Reason.

> that they don’t have to ask permission, apologize, or face denial of their rights of freedom and movement to pursue their desires.

Yes, undoubtedly, most people in very poor health would not suffer for very long, with no money to be made by keeping them alive like vegetables on a farm, or by planting them elsewhere for longer periods in smaller, far more expensive patches of real estate with only lawn maintenance to be factored.

Yes, it was also found to be true that many of the diseases and maladies of their artificially increased lifespans were induced by a lack of exercise, bloodless violence, stress, and thankless pursuits of objectives completely removed from their own activities of daily living, perhaps even giving credence to long-debunked myths about how your conscience somehow punished you for your own wrongdoing and its associated, accumulated guilt.

They learned that by eating or drinking too much to try to subvert appetites for other more natural, and life-affirming pursuits, one induces or at least encourages Type II diabetes, congestive heart failure, and hypertension.

…that “Only in America” could a “Couch Potato,”  let alone a six-hundred pound human incapable of feeding itself exist at all.

…or that no medication can cure the depression caused by the paralyzing realization of the falseness, emptiness, and futility of anyone’s life unless they take arms against a sea of tormentors and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes bred by false desires, ignorance, addictions, and suffering.

And finally, most, if not almost all of the money they became convinced they needed to buy possessions to fill holes in their spirits as big as Existentialism itself was as unnecessary as the imaginary false Hierarchy of the (New) Needs by which they had been hypnotized or the long-gone understanding or memory of Maslow’s originals.

They soon realized that lofty ideals alone would not protect anyone, because Enlightenment and Compassion can only stay the executioner’s hand when it is under the control of the victor.

First, one has to survive in order to live long enough to savor one’s existence. Sentience, Enlightenment and Compassion are acquired tastes.

A more accurate modern translation of René Descartes’ original hypothesis might have instead been “I think, therefore I desire that which I do not need, thereby I suffer in pain, and fear, and therefore I am.”

“God (sic) protect me from all the Good People…especially your followers.” (unk. origin). The depth of their self-righteous hatred, fear and evil knows no bounds.

So much for “…the inner soul of the people…”

Be careful what you wish for.

Sayonara Y’all…

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

06/16/2017

(out-of-sequence; chapter tbd later…also please keep in mind that true to my own genre of Enhanced and Fortified Non-Fiction, this piece starts in my somewhat altered reality of the here and now as well as the there and then before launching into the indulgences of my apocryphal visions of what the future may hold.)

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