Archive for Ménage à trois

Casa Nostra

Posted in Erotic Poetry, Explicit Sexual Language, gratitutde, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Knowledge, Liason, Love, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Poetry, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Synchronicity, the willing suspension of disbelief, The Wisdom, Theater of the Mind, Vision Quest with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 29, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

Casa Nostra

I died in your arms that night,

and buried myself deeply

between your thighs

as

we fucked like it was our last night on earth

even though I’ve lived like

I thought

I would never die.

Our life together

has been a moveable feast

I call

Casa Nostra.

In a lifetime of searching

I’ve found

Meaning in Love

and Purpose

in knowing

and sharing

whatever

I can experience,

learn,

and feel,

wherever

it all shall lead me.

And when it is finished,

scatter my ashes

over

The Villa Chez Dreamland

but keep Love alive en Casa Nostra.

(Our House).

As we hang suspended in time and space

(to-get-her)

in that one thin moment

as we dance upon the razor’s edge

our mortality suddenly seems so much less tragic

as

our infinite intimate synchronicity

washes over us

reminding us once again

of all that which is eternal in each of us

as well as both of us.

In My Perfect World.

Casa Nostra.

En Casa Nostra

we give without regard to what we get

but we take

to serve as vessels

for the giving

from those we love

as well as those

who cannot give back

so as to give to

the Universe,

that place where

even miracles are mundane.

En Casa Nostra

we are protected

by our fearlessness

because

We may feel pain.

We may share pain,

but we do not fear

being hurt

because we trust

and we believe

that this too will

give us the strength

we need

to follow our hearts

to the Palace of Wisodm

and be prepared

to receive

Enlightenment,

Epiphany,

and boundless Joy.

En Casa Nostra

we are protected.

Our enemies may hurt us

but they probably

can’t kill us,

but if they kill us

they probably

won’t eat us

but if they eat us

they make us one with

those who would

because

they cannot destroy us.

En Casa Nostra

we take no prisoners,

preferring instead

to accept the surrender

of willing hostages

as extended family.

Casa Nostra;

a mansion with no walls

large enough to hold

a universe

in a house as intimate

as two bodies

attempting to occupy

one space

or

to become as

one beating heart.

One Mind.

A place where

you can see yourself

reflected in the eyes

of your eternal beloved

as we Bow to the Divine

in each other

and as adults,

nurture the eternal child

in each of us

as our children teach us

the importance

of all the things we forgot

as we grew up

en Casa Nostra.

It starts and ends with our

Gang of Three.

Not Your Grandparents’ Honeymoon II: THFWS&TTM’s

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, GROUP MARRIAGE, Liason, Line Marriage, Long Form, Love, Mature Theme, Metaphysical Action/Adventure, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Novel, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Philosophical Sexuality, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Primate Romance/Adventure, Sexual Action/Adventure, Share The Love, The Home For Wayward Souls, The Knowledge of Good and Evil, The Talking Monkeys with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

Not Your Grandparents’ Honeymoon II:  THFWS&TTM’s

All eyes were focused on Darcy as they continued to observe the pulsating glow that emanated from the two babies growing within her belly.

Kali and Suki were the first to gently touch and rub Darcy’s abdomen, followed by Mark who gently kissed the taught, seemingly transparent skin that seemed to be unable to hide the twins growing within her.

Because they had been reluctant to learn the gender of her child, they had repeatedly postponed the sonogram that would have also revealed the plurality within her. It seemed ironic that two people who had devoted their lives to scientific research would choose ignorance over inquiry, but it was not so much a matter of a choice as a subconscious avoidance.

As much as the satiation of curiosity was endemic to their collective natures, it is perhaps not surprising that they desired a certain degree of purposeful mystery to shroud her pregnancy and impending delivery.

As humans we are not always logically consistent regarding the full spectrum of our logical and emotional make-up. Although the Scientist desires to know all, the Romantic embraces the mystery that conflicts with full disclosure.

Darcy was in no way negligent in seeking prenatal care, but inadvertently in subconsciously avoiding knowing the sex of her child, she had also missed learning of the existence of a second entity. It just never occurred to any of them until now, and the twins had not yet chosen to force their presence upon them before this moment.

Although there had as of that moment been no scientific confirmation of the presence of twins, at that moment they knew it to be true because they believed it to be true, courtesy of the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Tears of joy streamed from Darcy’s eyes, as well as the others as they gently and almost reverently touched and embraced her.

As Mark and Darcy stared deeply into each other’s eyes, they both said “I love you so much!” almost simultaneously.

Charles was by far the most emotionally distant of the group to all but Suki, although as they stood facing each other as Suki gently touched Darcy’s breasts, Charles lovingly touched Darcy’s face and said “You are so beautiful…I love you.”

This almost took Darcy’s breath away, as Charles had never actually spoken those words directly to her before. Although he was demonstratively very affectionate in all of his contact with her, it often took on the air of an almost fatherly manner, much the same as his interactions with Mark.

Charles had often described his relationship with Suki as a “Limited Polyamory” because insofar as they were concerned, Suki insisted she should be considered the “Alpha Bitch” in all interactions with either her or Charles both separately or independently.

Although Charles was in no way what you would describe as submissive by nature, it was his finding that when he indulged Suki in her need to “call the shots” so to speak, she was much less likely to succumb to jealousy or possessiveness, and frequently surprised Charles with her magnanimity and generosity of spirit.

Also, because they now generally limited their pursuit of Polyamory to the other members of their group it was easier for Suki to cope with any real or imagined territorial issues.

In that respect, she and Kali and Darcy regarded each other as equals.

Similarly, Merle enjoyed Darcy’s infatuation with an air of “detached compassion” that allowed her to indulge herself in her fantasies about him without evoking any insecurities within Mark, who was remarkably self-assured and well-adjusted and usually not the least bit jealous.

Although Mark was no wallflower by any means it was difficult for any man to not feel eclipsed by Merle’s presence. Darcy did her best to moderate her enthusiasm regarding her attraction for Merle.

There was no denying that she was wet-hot for Merle, but she truly loved Mark in a way she had never before known with any other man. They were both special to each other in a way that was unique for them.

Darcy was also very much aware of Mark’s life-long crush on Kali…hell, anyone with a pulse and a blood pressure and anything over a room-temperature IQ could not help noticing how Mark adored her.

Whenever Darcy felt a twinge of jealousy, she reminded herself how that must be the way Mark feels about her and Merle.

Kali very much liked how she felt when she indulged Mark in all manner of sexual pleasure.

It was good to enjoy the almost worshipful adoration that Mark bestowed upon her. She never felt quite as beautiful and charming as when Mark was lavishing her with affection and gratitude.

At least once in their life everyone should know what it feels like for someone else to think you are beautiful, charming and brilliant as if they are star-struck by every aspect of your being. To be adored and desired without reservation and overcome by grateful wonderment for the good fortune to be in your company.

Ash had remarked more than once that Mark helped remind him what a lucky man he was, and Suki was particularly fond of Ash’s Arian/Nordic features and finely sculpted body.

Although Charles was quite familiar and affectionate with both Kali and Darcy, he often stated that he generally had his hands full just keeping up with Suki’s seemingly insatiable desires, and ever since his relationship with Jennifer tanked, he had become a little distant with most women other than Suki until very recently.

Lately Suki had been corresponding with a woman who wrote a byline for a magazine that specialized in Kink/Fet articles and features. Eventually, she did an interview with Suki and Charles in their home. The two women bonded almost instantly, and soon became lovers as well as fast friends.

Anastasia was also quite attracted to Charles, so it seemed only natural when Suki suggested a ménage a trois, which Charles heartily endorsed as well. They quickly developed into a triad that was now turning into a source of discussion among the other members of the group shortly before the decision was made that they all incorporate into a Line Marriage.

It wasn’t that there was any rule or prohibition against it, but the last year they had been more or less exclusive within their circle of eight that was based more or less upon their spiritual pursuits in addition to their practice of Polyamory.

Suki had already suggested that Anastasia be included, and the group had agreed to discuss it further in the very near future. Charles and Suki were quite convinced that once the rest of the group got to know her, she would become a welcome addition to their circle of friends, if not actual “family”.

She was however, married to a devoted, indulgent and supportive man who encouraged her to follow her instincts as well as her dreams. She often spoke lovingly of him, but because he traveled extensively as a part of his career, he was often gone, and no one in the group had gotten the opportunity to meet him yet.

Although Anastasia, Merle and Frederick could function more like “free agents” who did not belong to a primary relationship within the group, Kali countered that Merle had been for all intents and purposes attached to the primary relationship between her and Ash for so long that they were already a primary triad, and Anastasia’s addition to the group would help balance the rest of the group in much the same way that Merle had.

Kali was already quite fond of Anastasia as well. She had shown herself to be one of the most naturally provocative and engaging people Kali had ever met.

Anastasia was also working on a feature profile on Kali because of her incredibly successful website on Spiritual Eroticism and Religious Sexuality.

Suki had introduced the two of them a few weeks before the wedding, and the article was slated for publication next month. The afternoon of the interview had proven to be a very enriching bonding of like minds and spirits.

She had been invited to the wedding as well as the reception; that was the first time Darcy had met her, and she too found her to be remarkably engaging and attractive.

It was as if the stars were aligning themselves for the benefit of the group, or perhaps they were each just recognizing how simple and easy it is to function like some kind of magical semiconductor that interpolated, matched and integrated itself with whatever opportunities they encountered.

Somehow answers no longer required questions to justify themselves; resolutions became apparent without the necessity of conflict to reinforce or create their perception of need.

Unspoken knowledge of interconnected solutions seemed to point to some universal factorial that led to an ever-increasing simplicity as obvious as the smile on your face.

They had the good sense to realize that Evil still existed, but for now they also were developing the good Kharma to escape the clutches of its attractive force without having to engage it in battle.

At each juncture a staggering number of omens and signs presented themselves in heretofore new ways without the customarily endless mind-boggling series of consequences.

Challenges became regarded as opportunities impatient to do their bidding for the simple cost of recognition and resolve.

As always, impermanence, danger and sorrow still abounded almost everywhere else they looked, just as it always had…just not here, and not now, and not for them.

Their ever-present never-present present moment was joyous and full of love and incredible richness right here, right now just as it always had been, even if the present moment didn’t really exist in the first place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Snowball Fight

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, A Womens Flower, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, Fornicating, Fun, Human Stew, Humor, Imp Of The Perverse, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Just For Fun, Liason Between Parties, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, Naked, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Primate Romance/Adventure, Sex, Sexual Action/Adventure, Snowballing, the dark kiss, The Id, Theater of the Mind with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

The Snowball Fight

I love porn, but I don’t watch it very often anymore. I have almost never paid to watch it, and it has been years since I purchased any of it, yet it comes to me like a long-lost lover whom I am obligated to give witness without having sought her in the first place.
I am no expert on porn either. I used to know the names of most of the male and female leads who were distributed by Cal Vista during the seventies and eighties, but that’s about it. No addiction to porn
Imagine…there I am, minding my own business…more addicted to my own imagination than anything, when along comes “The Beautiful People”….
I used to know one of them. I met her a while after she tried to quit the business, or the business quit her…I’m not really sure which came first. She rolled right up to the door of my E.R. on a motorcycle she had designed and painted herself. Her back was covered in the most beautiful monochrome single-needle cholo style Tree of Life I had ever seen and she had driven to my hospital with one leg in a cast up to her hip and one crutch.
In the rain.
She was a bit disheartened when she realized I did not recognize her, but she only fucked for love or sport by the late eighties, and my ignorance made me an enigma to her.
The business had already changed at least once on her since she got her start, and she had the good sense to get out while she still had money in the bank and her house paid for. Fame is a fickle mistress and trends are like breezes on the beach.
Because I own a computer and possess a preternatural level of curiosity about Things Carnal I have noticed numerous subtle and unsubtle changes in the Industry and what it produces in terms of what and how and upon whom it chooses to focuses its lens.
I know it has been seen with more prevalence over the past several years, but I for one still feel a little uncomfortable watching the scenes where the actors and actresses spit onto either each other’s genitalia, or even into each other’s mouths.
I am not squeamish about “The Dark Kiss” (anilingus), nor do I shrink about swallowing, or even “Snowballing” (the reciprocated kiss), but even just the idea of being spat upon anywhere on my body set my comfort zone out of whack…until I thought up a script for a porno I would love to make with just the right players (no actors allowed; ‘ya gotta be a believer) just to enjoy the experience.
The film would be called “The Snowball Fight” because instead of simply passing the semen from mouth to mouth during a deep kiss, they would spit for at least several inches, or perhaps even several feet at the open mouth of the intended recipient. Of course, sometimes they will miss…but that’s just part of the fun.
But the object would be to conduct it like a Frisbee toss and catch, where the recipients sometimes make amazing efforts of skill and dedication resulting in saves that would make any major-league outfielder envious.
As a result, say for instance Lady A. blows Mister D. only to spit it across several feet to the open mouth of Lady S. before she transfers it into the mouth of say, Mister A who deposits it into the snatch of Lady S. (for safekeeping inside the goal-net).
Mister D. then goes down on Lady A. who has a great big surprise for him waiting inside her goal-net, courtesy of Mister A. whereupon Lady X. enters and gets on all fours so that Misters D. and A. can spit snowballs onto Lady X’s buttocks as Mister V. ravages her from behind, attempting to help push the spewed conglomerate of their combined viscous offerings back into the snatch of Lady X. while Lady S. lies on her back as she licks Lady X. impaled upon Mister V.’s viande.
Eventually, this could be shot along the lines of a Japanese bukkake film as Lady S., or even her designate, Lady A. could eventually receive the entire avalanche (“snowballs”) in a tsunami of viscous body fluids.
Oh, and BTW: No intention is made or implied as to the identity of any of the proposed players in the imaginary script.
If you prefer, you can go all Reservoir Dogs on it and call Lady A. Lady Red, and Lady S. could be Lady Yellow, and Mister A could be Mister Pink (he won’t like it any better than Steve Buscemi’s character did), Mister D. could be Mister White and Lady X. could be Lady Blue, and Mister V. would probably want to be Mister Black.
Upon reflection, it may be somewhat difficult to locate six really close intimate friends who are all into the same thing like this, unless they were all in a really silly mood, so as not to give it that edgy-nasty hard-core mood that was created in the films that I did see that contained elements of the above-proposed scenario. Maybe there are amateurs out there somewhere who are up to the task.
Or Maybe that’s just me.

A Funny Thing happened to me on the way to my Blog

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Adventures of Captain Mike, Blogging, Collaboration, Cumming Back, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Drug Experience, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Explicit Sexual Language, Fornicated, Fornicating, Fun, Goddess, Humor, Imp Of The Perverse, Interspecies Erotica, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Liason Between Parties, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Primate Romance/Adventure, Sexual Action/Adventure, Share The Love, Sorcery, Suki, The Id, The Rain Dance, Theater of the Mind, Tsukimono-suji, Vagina, What You Have Conjured Up, Witchcraft with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

A Funny Thing happened to me on the way to my Blog
I recently read a comment by one of our fellow bloggers that acknowledged the conflict we often face between our imagined obligations to feed this wood-chipper of words and ideas more material against the demands of our everyday lives.
Ah Duality! All is one, even when we don’t possess the eyes to recognize it.
Without all the stuff that keeps us too busy to write, we would have nothing to inspire us. So for that reason I have tried of late to make better choices about what stuff I allow to make me too busy to write. I’m at least twenty years behind schedule to attempt to do any justice to my life so far.
Too often, we act like teenagers who treat every incursion into the never-ending video gaming, texting reality show of their lives as if it was an interruption of our entitled play time.
Then again, it all depends on why you write….
I had just settled in to try to keep up with the story of my latest novel that is unfolding in my head faster than I can chronicle it when there was a knock at my door….
Unfortunately, it was not Ed McMahon…of course it wasn’t…he’s been dead for some time now. If it had been, that would mean that either I was also dead, or that I was dreaming. ..
Once, during a dream I smoked a joint with Sam Kinison shortly after he died. I suddenly realized the dilemma, and asked him how he was. He said he was fine, considering he had just gotten married again….
Instead it was Captain Mike and he was either trying to tell me about Wahoo hitting Ballyhoo in one hundred and sixty feet of water, or giant bull dolphins (Mahi, not Flipper) hanging out under the weed line six miles off shore.
Sometimes when he mixes the rum and the methadone it becomes very difficult to interpret his rants.
The really exciting/scary part is that in either case, he wants me to go with him. It is exciting because he has a very large fishing boat that he sometimes uses to make a considerable sum of money, which allows him to pay his chosen “first mate” more money than I make in a week to go fishing on my day off. I love to fish.
It is scary because in the twenty-five years I have known him, he has shown absolutely no regard for his own personal safety. He is Captain Ahab, The Ancient Mariner, The Old Man and the Sea, and Captains Bly and Queeg trapped in the body and brain of Gary Busey.
I have known him since he was an EMT-driver for the municipal emergency medical rescue service for which I worked many years ago as a paramedic.
He has the constitution of a cockroach and there are more than a few of us who believe it may be impossible to kill him. He frequently puts himself in predicaments that normal humans would never survive. That is where our friendship started…getting him out of trouble and managing to keep us both alive.
I could fill a whole book of short stories about his predilection for chaos. Maybe someday I will.
I also know that on more than one occasion, upon having participated in one of his hare-brained schemes surviving by margins as thin as half a coat of paint the sheer exhilaration of the experience often provoked me with an almost uncontrollable desire to summons the superhuman strength it would take to strangle the last breath from his body.
It has not been an easy friendship, and now shows no signs of getting any easier.
And yet somewhere, out of his considerable body of quirks, addictions, and proclivities for self-destructive urges there lurks a sort of creature that has never been seen in the light of day that hides inside his brain to prompt him to follow his preternatural ability to find and capture fish of every type and size. Shellfish, crab, and every sort of scaly, finny denizen of the great blue alike are the objects of his desire, and none are immune.
Women love him, fish fear him.
For him, the wind is never too high, or the water too rough. On one occasion, he piloted his craft back to dock with no wheelhouse or bridge left, sitting on a milk crate with the wheel trapped between his knees.
When the wheels of insanity are spinning inside his head he has talked me into participating in far too many adventures that involved multiple felonies and serious risk to life and limb.
We were at our best when we were taking huge risks to rescue patients without much serious regard for our own safety. The county for which we worked eventually made us sign a “hold harmless” form in case we got killed or injured doing any number of things such as going into the water before back-up arrived.
I always believed that when I was doing the right thing, or fighting the good fight, that I was somehow “protected”…maybe even invincible. But the rest of the time we were just a couple of red-ass fools who should have known better, but didn’t act like it.
Mike drove us down Blimp Road one night when we inducted yet another woman into the “Code Three Club” (think of the “Mile High Club” except in an ambulance with lights and sirens). She was a videographer tasked with following an EMS unit for twenty-four hours for a documentary she was going to make.
(I later married that last inductee….)
There are times when I miss those days, but today was not one of them.
I had cranked up the word processor to get rid of some nervous energy I was feeling in anticipation of a visit from a fellow blogger whom I was most anxious to meet. I had no idea what she looked like, but she has the spirit of an angel.
She is still a neophyte; quite full of passion and idealism. She is probably the most unabashedly avid/rabid fan I will ever have the good fortune to encounter, and she has a certain way with words that inspires me at times.
She lived a few hours away, but was surprisingly enthusiastic about taking the drive.
Of course, she is married…I have been lead to believe it is a very open relationship, but as a gentleman I am also inclined to believe it would no doubt be best to keep her identity “on the down low” at least until she chooses to break radio silence of her own volition.
I know of but a few things that exceed Mike’s rapacious appetite to kill fish or risk his life, those being Drugs, alcohol, and intimate contact with the opposite sex.
Suki was as anxious as I to meet the mystery blogger and was in no mood to put up with Captain Mike’s nonsense. He adored Suki and tended to be a bit of a lecherous pest around her no matter how hard he tried to mind his manners.
When he is drunk he reminds me of one of those poodles you just can’t shake off your leg when you go visit your aunt.
We were unsure what to do with Mike. I wasn’t even sure we had enough booze in the house to wait for him to pass out, and I had no intention today of all days to go out to sea in a boat.
This does not happen often, so make careful note of the above statement.
As luck would have it, suddenly Peppermint Patty had come knocking on our door to ask to borrow a pack of cigarettes.
There is a term in the Florida Keys called “Conch Borrowing;” there are a number of interesting aspects to it, but one of the most important is that it does not generally involve the obligation to give the borrowed item back which is just as well because once she borrows a pack, she does not generally come back until enough time has lapsed that she can pretend to have forgotten about the first pack.
As medically non-compliant schizophrenics go, she can be fairly interesting company, depending on how bored you really are…especially if you are interested in seeing any of the adult films in which she starred over twenty years ago….In just the right light, you can almost see the resemblance…and the tattoos are in fact, identical…and she loves to spread her talents amongst her fans.
Captain Mike, for all his flaws and scars has one characteristic that has made him a pussy-magnet, even now. He has the most disarmingly bright ice-blue eyes I have ever seen, and few women are immune to his “School-Boy Heart” charm and his skinny body-language that is half Jimmy Stewart, half Michael Fredericks.
Patty’s eyes met Mike’s. With the morning light behind her as she stood in the doorway of our trailer, you could see right through her dress and it was obvious that she was not wearing anything under it.
Little details like that never went unnoticed by Captain Mike (…and he had plenty of cigarettes).
Patty then asked Suki if she had ever seen her do DP before as she shifted her gaze back and forth between Mike and myself until Suki reminded her that she had (it was a lie, but Patty was much too crazy to realize it).
With that, I gave Mike a bottle of Bacardi Select Rum and suggested they take the party over to Patty’s trailer where they could see the ocean from her bedroom window.
Even Patty knew that was a lie, but she just winked at me and smiled. (She had once told me that if I held my ear to her snatch that I could hear the ocean, but I never tried to find out if it was really true.)
As they strolled arm in arm back to Peppermint Patty’s trailer, I could hear Captain Mike telling her how Jimmy Buffet had written the song “Jamaica Mistaka” about him and how he had once flown a small private plane between two pilings on the Seven-Mile bridge, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she would be showing Mike the first anal video she ever shot with Ron Jeremy.
We were still laughing about it when my friend the lady blogger drove up. She and Suki had talked several times before on the phone, and it was heartwarming to see just how well two ladies who had never met before could strike up a friendship.
I later learned that they had been “pen-pals” for over a month and I really think Suki was as enthusiastic about meeting Ms. A. as I was.
Suki had already plugged in the vaporizer and now promised to show our new friend her collection of Japanese Pillow-books while I called a nearby restaurant to order Tai take-out.
But the real reason I didn’t get any writing done that day was because of what I discovered when I returned with the food….
As much of a confirmed pervert and connoisseur of (nearly) all things carnal as I am, there is a strong streak of Southern Gentleman that runs deeply through my character that prevents me from going into the details of what ensued that afternoon, that evening and for most of Saturday morning…
Nah! I’m just bullshitting you…They just made me promise to let them tell you about it in their own blogs in the next few days, and I am, if nothing else, a man of my word….
…And that, dear friends is the reason I did not have my homework ready for Monday morning…no, the dog did not eat it…no schedule conflicts with graduation ceremonies or final exams. No car trouble. No issues with the Police. I did not have technical problems with my computer, nor did I suffer from some mysterious malady.
And if anyone else has any excuses for why they have not been writing, I hope your reasons were at least as good…and if you have, please honey! I want to hear all the details.
PS: Look for the rest of the story to appear soon in two blogs I hope you have the good fortune to read in the near future.

For Occasional Use Only as Directed…

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Appreciation, Celebration, Collaboration, Conjured Up Next, Cumming Back, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Erotic Poetry, Explicit Sexual Language, Fornicating, Fun, Goddess, His Penis Her Vagina, Imp Of The Perverse, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Liason, Love, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Metaphysical Action/Adventure, Much To Good For Children, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Poetry, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Primate Romance/Adventure, Sex, Sexual Action/Adventure, Sorcery, Spring, The Id, The Wisdom, Theater of the Mind, Tsukimono-suji, Uroboros, Vagina, What You Have Conjured Up, Zen with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 5, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

An angel crash-landed

at Villa Dreamland’s

temporary encampment,

The Home for Wayward Souls.

Loosely clad in

terry shorts

and a satin

team jacket

with only a few of the bottom buttons

fastened,

allowing

the free-range puppies

to

wrestle and cavort

beneath its logo.

***

As I wrestled with the gatekeeper

to my realm of Velocity and Power,

she appeared

out of nowhere.

She noted we shared the same brand

and marks;

the co-conspiring

symbols

of

Speed and Mystery.

I was surprised

when I realized

it wasn’t a Raiders jacket

after all;

(as it turned out

she was a stretcher-bunny

long ago and had developed a taste

for icons and talismans that

captured my attentions….)

“What a coincidence…”

I foolishly assumed.

Part naughty tomboy,

part wood-nymph,

her long chestnut hair

was everywhere,

like a lions mane.

Her feline eyes

sparkled slightly with mischief

while she made suggestions

as to how to regain control

of my access

to time and space.

We conferred

on a few points,

concurred,

and then she

set upon the project

as if it was her own

(with my blessing

and assistance).

Clad only in a bathrobe,

my attempts to access

points below the dashboard

did not go unnoticed,

as she smiled slightly, then

sighed approvingly.

Ignition and liftoff

confirmed our success

as she began to close the case,

and I felt myself falling

yet again,

with no sign of impact

anytime soon.

***

This trailer park angel

is a newfound

neighbor,

but she quickly advised

she could not be taken for granted

and had a life of her own,

her precautionary statements

contrasting her jovial demeanor

She warned

“Take only as directed.”

“Use with caution.”

“For Occasional Use Only.”

“May be habit-forming.”

“May lead to respiratory arrest.”

(She already took my breath away once…)

***

“See ya in the post office, kiddo…”

she whispered in my ear.

(What?) I wondered?

“…the rogue’s gallery…

on the wall,

with the other gangsters….”

She winked playfully

and then I knew….

“You owe me one…”

she said.

“If you got the time later,

maybe you can

help me with a tune-up

I’d like to get done

before my kid gets home from school.”

“…Maybe tonight

you can even

introduce me to your wife…

tell her my name is Mata Hari

and we’ll call her Tokyo Rose…”

***

This woman of mystery,

this trailer-park tomboy angel

with slightly singed wings,

a lover of pearl necklaces,

with a need for speed

reminds me…

“In the Springtime

the rains come

and the grass

grows all by itself…”

Life returns.

Baraka Bashad.

The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys: Transcendence

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Crossing the Abyss, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Drug Experience, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Explicit Sexual Language, Fornicating, Fun, Goddess, His Penis Her Vagina, Human Stew, Imp Of The Perverse, Interspecies Erotica, Liason, Liason Between Parties, Long Form, Love, Mature Theme, Metaphysical Action/Adventure, Much To Good For Children, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Novel, NSFW, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Primate Romance/Adventure, Sacrilege, Sentience, Sex, Sexual Action/Adventure, The Ascent of Man, The Home For Wayward Souls, The Id, The Knowledge of Good and Evil, The Talking Monkeys, The Wisdom, Theater of the Mind with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 23, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

 

WARNING: ADULT CONTENT. NOT SAFE FOR WORKPLACE. LIKELY TO BE OFFENSIVE TO ALL BUT THE MOST BROAD-MINDED AND LIBERAL. THIS CHAPTER EXCEEDS ALL PREVIOUS CHAPTERS FOR CONTROVERSIAL IDEAS AND CONCEPTS AND OPENLY EMBRACES SEVERAL SUBJECTS THAT WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE REGARDED AS SACRELIGIOUS AND PERVERSE, ESPECIALLY BY RELIGIOUS FUNDAMENTALISTS. SO THERE…DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU….

Transcendence

“I realize that we have seen some very remarkable and sometimes bizarre occurrences in our encounters with this group. As earthbound Humans and one quite remarkable primate, these eight individuals, if not singularly unique, are at the very least quite extraordinary.”

“I feel as though these repeated sessions of group consciousness are having its own effect upon me as well. Not what I would describe as a ‘contact high,’ but rather an extremely powerful state of mind. One might be tempted to label it as mass hysteria, and as a participant/observer I cannot rule out the possibility, but in so doing, I would nonetheless state that there may be good reason for embracing credence in the power of such states of mind…”

Raul the Cuban Tree Frog, acting again as our reporter for Intergalactic Geographic is perched upon a screen outside The Sanctuary, teleset with boom microphone on head, and script in hand as he narrates his observations. As you may have suspected from our previous encounters, he is not exactly just your average Cuban Tree Frog (Osteopilus septentrionalis), but in order to gain safe passage in this dimension, he is in precisely the right configuration to best  dispatch his assigned mission.

Raul continued. “For one thing, sometime during the onset of this particular session, I began to realize that what I had mistaken for utterances by the individuals involved was perceived in fact within my own head, much like the experiences of the members of the experiment.”

“Upon further consideration of my animal form, I would be inclined to admit that it might indeed tend to give me a predilection for intuitive cognitive processes much like the telepathy or intuition to which Frederick, Mark, and Darcy have alluded as being distinctly animal attributes and abilities. Based upon my own subjective experiences within this context, I would concur.”

As Raul continues his narrative, the other members are finding themselves more and more sexually preoccupied, and since there are no secrets within this group (given their common consciousness of each other’s thoughts), the effect is rapidly intensified.

Who of us has not wished at one point or another to be able to “read” the minds of others? Yet the prospect of one’s own mind being equally transparent to others is not one that most of us would embrace….

It is one thing to be fully understood when we wish to be, but most of us are so addicted to our own deceits, conceits, denials, and self-deceptions that it is highly unlikely that we would be inclined to go down the road of telepathy and intuition once we realized the consequences of navigating a two-way thoroughfare.

One of the more disarming features of their current state of mind is how much their individual senses of smell have become intensified, especially concerning each other’s pheromones. Frederick has always been very high-functioning in this regard, but even he is pleasantly surprised by the enhancement.

As each member finds themself curiously testing the air as they first identify the aroma, then its source, knowing full well that everyone else is not only doing the same, but also aware of what each of the rest of them are doing, they begin to truly embrace the concept of their animal origins.

As self-proclaimed civilized humans, we have been taught to eschew all bodily odor altogether, instead preferring that our genitalia should smell like jasmine, lilacs, spices or even exotic fruits, but deep within our psyches, buried under eons of repression, our animal ancestors instinctively knew that they liked the smell of cocks and cunts…and the ocean…and seafood…and freshly-plowed earth.

For less evolved individuals, this could have spun out of control rather quickly, but given the fact that seven of the group have been using this drug for several months now together, the customary inhibitions, or conflicts that could have been stress-provoking have been bridged and assuaged…for the most part.

When Frederick suddenly realized that everyone else was also aware of his olfactory perusal of Darcy, Suki, and Kali’s nether regions, he also became aware of the fact that everyone else was doing the same according to their own tastes.

No one was alarmed or offended. In their current state of mind, everything seemed natural and provocatively intriguing. And Frederick was no longer an outsider by virtue of being merely an animal. In their minds, they had already transcended those barriers.

In their minds, they saw themselves just as much animals as they regarded Frederick to be. Just slightly different animal forms, as well as so much more….

With that, Frederick pantomimed blowing Darcy a kiss as he winked at her.

She responded by giggling like a young girl and suddenly removed her panties, which she threw to him. She then arose from her sitting position on the floor and went over to Mark, who was already removing his pants in anticipation. The rest of the group quickly shed their clothes as well.

Merle, Suki and Charles began to peruse and ponder a number of possible combinations of explorations among themselves as Ash and Kali moved together among the other members encouraging and fondling as they went.

Rather surprisingly, Darcy left her short, sheer dress on as she bent over to take Mark into her mouth. Mark was reclining, but propped up slightly on his elbows, with his head tilted back. He moaned softly and lifted his hips just a little each time Darcy took him further into the back of her throat. She began to reach a steady rhythmic bobbing of her head as Mark began to fuck her mouth.

An instant before it happened, Darcy and the rest of the group realized Frederick was about to first lick Darcy’s exposed bottom, and then her very wet pussy.

That moment seemed to hang suspended in time for a New York eternity (even though they were still in Florida).

As soon as Darcy realized that she was able to accept this eventuality, she also realized that she was in fact relieved and very aroused by her ability to be able to assimilate the experience, and so was everybody else.

In that moment in time in that particular space, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. All of them were also pondering how it must have been much like this when Man transcended and ascended from his primate ancestry by virtue of those ancient visitors so long ago, resulting in the “Upper Palaeolithic Revolution”, or the so-called “Great Leap Forward”.

As Darcy began to moan with pleasure as Frederick gratefully lavished her puanani with the most enthusiastic oral stimulation, Mark began to realize that he was nearly as aroused by watching Frederick perform cunnilingus upon the love of his life as he was by Darcy’s writhing ecstasy as she vigorously took him into her mouth and throat.

By the time Frederick finally mounted Darcy from behind, first gently, almost gingerly and then frantically thrusting his Bonanzee cock as hard and fast as he could into Darcy’s wet, quivering cunt, no one was the least surprised, offended or even uncomfortable. In their minds, this was an event that was over fifty thousand years in the making.

Only humans even attempt to protract the act of copulation in the least, but as quickly as Frederick managed to achieve orgasm, it was more than sufficiently long and vigorous enough to make Darcy climax violently as she felt Frederick’s throbbing cock spill stream after stream of warm, spurting semen deep into her pussy.

And it somehow seemed like the most natural and beautiful event in over fifty thousand years.

Mark was now quite anxious to fuck Darcy also. Frederick was already wandering around the room, eating fruit and mostly observing the others copulating, and Mark turned Darcy around to also mount her from behind as Frederick had done, but she suddenly began to grind Mark’s cock into her ass as she slowly pushed his rigid prick deep inside her.

After shucking off her dress, she then grabbed Merle as he sauntered over, and began to lick and suck his enormous member, which did not fit at all well into her mouth as she slathered it up and down with her tongue, lips and face. Merle grew hard again in a surprisingly short period of time. He had not come when he fucked Suki briefly at Charles’ request while he watched, and he badly needed release.

Merle then lay flat on his back and Darcy straddled him as Mark pumped her ass from behind. By the time both men came, she was drenched in sweat and cum. Her pussy was stretched and distended from Merle’s enormous cock and her ass was swollen, gaping and dripping.

By the end of the evening, sometime before dawn, she managed to fuck Ash and Charles as well, while Suki and Kali also took turns with all the men, but Frederick only copulated with Darcy, although he did it again several more times that night with her.

Although Frederick mounted Darcy from behind the first time, The next time, as Darcy lay upon her back, as they prepared to copulate, the air was heavy with anticipation of what was to come. The first time was as pure animals, the both of them allowing Nature to take over as they rode on waves of polypeptides and hormones into a region of the forbidden, yet eternal quest of curiosity where no action is inherently either sacred or profane. The eternally questioning mind often leads the body into uncharted waters.

Perversity does not exist in the animal kingdom the way that it thrives in the Human Condition.

But now, as Darcy lay there, legs apart, feeling the hair of Frederick’s belly, thighs and chest against her smooth, nearly hairless body, she came to a realization of who Frederick was, rather than what he was.

This strangely familiar being, this state of consciousness that so worshipped her as Goddess was in this moment realizing the culmination of resolution of desires beyond his wildest primate dreams, which were taking place in real time in a state of divine grace and ecstatic union with his own higher power, even beyond her as the Goddess, to experience an understanding of The One, feeling its movement through both him and her.

Now, as Darcy gazed deeply into Frederick’s eyes she witnessed his reflection of the Divine, peering deeply into Frederick’s soul, even as it was now, in this crucial state of flux, so also did Frederick stare into Darcy’s soul in a way he had never imagined before.

For him, it was to bear witness to the Goddess, not to know it on an intellectual level, but viscerally, the only way that one can ever really know anything when it comes to beliefs and faith.

You can’t intellectualize God into existence. The Knowledge you may experience as you feel the movement, the waves, the ripples and the winds set in motion by the gods and goddesses we know and become as we pass through this level of existence are mere reflections of a divine order that so surpasses our own levels of comprehension as to be unfathomable.

This occult world is not by definition something to be explained with words. The Knowing is enough. If it does not reveal itself to you in a way that you can allow yourself to experience, the chances are that you will explain it away with scientific beliefs based on speculation just as wild and unfounded as any other religion.

Dogma and Doctrine may be replaced by Axioms and Theorems, but both are supported by faith. Faith is what we believe in the absence of absolute proof.

If you simply believe that what happens today will indicate what will happen tomorrow, or that if two phenomena occur repeatedly together that a relationship exists between them, then your faith is no better than anyone else’s.

As Darcy lay there looking into Frederick’s countenance, she truly wanted this union in a way that was spiritual and that spoke of Majic of an indescribably unselfconscious bliss far beyond any sexual experience, and in so doing to temporarily satiate the eternally questioning mind.

It would be easy to imagine that Darcy looked down from herself to allow Frederick to occupy such personal space with her, but she was already sensing that the primal knowledge she was about to gain from Frederick, who intuitively knew what a mistake Man had made when he traded Reason for Instinct, was just as much a part of the Divine as her own..

In this moment in time, both co-existed.

And it was Good…like the way God said at the end of each day of creation.

And as it was happening, the other members of the group knew it too, as their consciousnesses exchanged with each other and their knowledge became as one.

And all the while, the Ancient Ones moved in and around them provoking and enticing the members of the group to a level of sexual ecstasy not seen since the days of the Bacchanal.

And it was Good…very, very good… like the way God said at the end of each day of creation.

Although all the members of the group agreed that there was a distinct cumulative effect that lingered well after the more immediate effects of the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil had worn off, the effects it had on Frederick were the most dramatic and lasting.

From that point on, he was truly sentient; not human, but deeply aware of himself, his surroundings and peers in a way that would have been previously unimaginable. His abilities to communicate with the others took a quantum leap that was similarly intensified for all of them, who now managed to communicate intuitively and without words in ways they had never before imagined.

And it was all very, very Good….

 

 

The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys has its own Page

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Interspecies Erotica, Long Form, Mature Theme, Metaphysical Action/Adventure, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sexual Action/Adventure, The Home For Wayward Souls, The Talking Monkeys with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 14, 2014 by dreamlanddancing

I have put everything written so far on its own page. I will update it on a (fairly) regular basis until the novel is complete.

This is an opportunity to give me your honest feedback, which I would greatly appreciate.

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