Damned Fiction

by David Kempf

  “Just because we’re the last two people on earth, well, as far as we know, doesn’t mean you’re going to get in my panties.”

  He clinched his fists in frustration.

  Sometimes she enjoyed the bickering because it made her forget that the world they both used to know was essentially gone. They had electricity, old D.V.D’s, music and plenty of food, cigarettes and booze. There was medicine and just about anything else, one could imagine. All in town, two, three blocks away at most, not a long trip for creature comforts. They were comforts unnecessary for survival but required for sanity.

  There was also them, The Neffs wanting to get her pregnant. What about human males? Oh, the Neffs had special plans for them. Those plans damn near made what they did to human females look like a walk in the park.

  “If you don’t stop hitting on me, dork, I’ll let them know one male is still around.”

  I hope they don’t understand human speech. C.D. began to panic at his own thoughts for a moment.

  Emily game him a mean spirited smile.

  “Damn it, Emily!” he screamed. “That’s not even a little bit funny. You know what they do….”

  “Then don’t proposition me again. I told you I don’t want to fuck you… ever…”

  The Neffs had already had their day. The horny dork wanted his night with Emily. Just one night!

  The Little man fell asleep across from Emily in the dean’s old bedroom. Wouldn’t it figure out this way? The dean and his wife slept in separate beds and so did C.D. and Emily but not in his dreams…

  The science major dork and the English major who dreamed of writing beautiful love stories were in a very one-sided friendship.

  The Little man always did as he was told like any obedient slave. One sided friendship indeed. Do my homework, clean up my apartment, hear every gory detail of my sex life and be there to hear me cry when my heat is broken again. Broken again for the hundredth time, a strong heart made for unhappiness. Broken again for the thousandth time…

  Oh, you can never touch me, ever….

  Oh, we can only be friends….

  Oh, by the way, I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last one on earth… the last man on earth wanted out of the friend zone.

  Every fool knew this game. The natural human tendency was accepting that under the right “circumstances” so and so would fall in love with me and fuck my brains out. Yes, the good old right “circumstances.” Denial was a powerful thing. People didn’t want to realize the truth.

  What truth?

  The hideous truth that not only were these so-called “circumstances” not bloody likely to happen but…

  … even if the circumstances did occur, people just might get flat out rejected anyway. When someone is not attracted to you or even worse… found you, repulsive… the so-called right circumstances were only a pipe dream.

  A pipe dream…

  Perhaps people could drug and rape the object of their lustful affection. Then have a different kind of sex. Necrophilia with a pulse? No. Those were not the right “circumstances.” There were none. C.D.’s father once said that they had to steal magazines or try to watch cable TV when his generation were young in the 1980s. Scrambled porn offered more erotic delights than the right “circumstances” ever would. Explorers could dedicate their lives to finding the circumstances, along with Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster.

  A pipe dream…

  Did pipe dreams ever come true?

  For C.D. Little, tonight, they would. He decided to be a man about it. He could wait no longer. First, he took off all of his clothes. Then he slipped, quite comfortably into Emily’s bed.

  The barriers had been broken.

  Or he thought.

  There was something like a humiliating invisible shield surrounding Emily’s luscious body. He had to cross its threshold and penetrate her feminine wiles. This simply had to be done.

  The Little man was astonished to find out that he was still indeed; well, little.

  His cock was not hard yet. This was simply astonishing to him; C.D. did notice that his breathing was heavy and his heart was beating very, very fast. He was ready for this; after all, he had been waiting for a considerable amount of time.

  Sleeping Beauty was still sleeping and snoring for the love of Christ!

  God in Heaven, this boy was tired of being… a virgin… tired of being… little.

  Charles David Little had often found himself tiresome but he wanted all of it to go away soon forever.

  Even he found himself tiresome.

  This would be his night, he thought confidently.

  A real man wouldn’t have a hard on when the woman he wanted to ravish was still asleep.

  Wake up.

  Wake up.

  Wake up, he thought.

  Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.

  I have something for you.

  Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly…

  I have something here…

  Christ, now he was creepy guy again, he thought.

  Charles David Little knew he was so much more than that.

  The young and confident virgin was wondering about the big picture. The meaning of it all. What would that be now? How did the haunting beauty of Emily fit into this? Wow, he thought. It was a narcissistic asshole indeed who thought that there had to be some great truth out there because he wanted to fuck a beautiful young woman.

  Well…

  Either that or there was something deeper. Men play around with what it means to be in love and the ones who were winners (which was a club that he had only recently joined) knew this to be true. Winners made erotic fantasies become real sexual experiences. They could earn, they could play, they had friends and influence and they fucked beautiful women. On some deep level, the Little man wanted to be bigger and better than them.

  Love was a curse.

  The ultimate four-letter word.

  When he was a little boy, the Little man who wanted to be big had always imagined himself meeting the right woman, the one he would surely love. Emily was it. The once in a lifetime heart breaker that most men encounter and who seldom became their girlfriends or wives.

  Pain.

  Tragedy.

  A raging hard on…

  Sleeping Beauty woke up. She put her lovely tongue deep into C.D.’s throat and made it count. She was in a nightgown. Not too sexy but not too Amish either…

  “You want me?”

  “Are you joking?” he asked incredulously.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Yes, more than anything, Emily.”

  She put his Little hands, make that strong hands on her beautiful breasts. They were not so small they were unsatisfying but not so large that they were unattractive. They were, just like Emily, just right.

  Beauty.

  Erotic beauty.

  He barely noticed much because her tongue was in his ear. She had taken off her nightgown. It was dark but he was feeling her up and taking a tour of this most delightful body. The crude part of him wanted to demand that she turn the lights on so that he could see what too many other men had already seen. He had always loved her and damn it, he deserved an eye full!

  Emily’s naked body.

  He wanted to see it now.

  He had waited so long.

  How beautiful her breasts must be.

  That lovely patch of hair between her legs.

  This was not to be. He was as in the dark about her body as he was about how to perform the sex act itself!

  Emily was nude.

  The Little man was stunned.

  He smiled at the prospect of what would happen next. He felt his manly seed begin an escape plan from his throbbing, hopeful organ. Some of his lower fears had already escaped him. This girl had been around. If he suffered by comparison when she looked at his erect cock, it would devastate C.J. and his low self-esteem.

  However, what if this absurd perfect desirable woman nonsense the idiot built up in his hea
d disappeared when he saw her full frontal in full light. She might have a zit or a birthmark or some other imperfection. So much for the goddess in the flesh who stole his naive heart…

  “Do you want to go inside me?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he answered in a voice that almost suggested premature ejaculation.

  “I know you do,” Emily said. Her breathing was starting to begin to get heavier now.

  Somehow this felt more natural than some kind of triumph or conquest or reward to C.D…

  He did what came naturally.

  “Oh, Christ!” Emily screamed. Ecstasy was not far away.

  He stuck one finger in at first. He felt how wet and aroused the inside of her lovely womanhood had now become. He heard Emily laugh. She wasn’t laughing at him, he knew she was happy she was about to be fucked.

  Dark doubts about Emily thinking of other men vanished from the confident virgin’s head. He knew she was getting very, very excited now. He groans of lusts made him feel so happy that he stuck a second finger into her lovely wet orifice.

  Now she was on top of him. Naked, he felt her amazing ass and once again, came God damn near close to ejaculation. He was fucking delirious.

  “I want to swallow for you,” she purred.

  “What?”

  Her lips wrapped around his cock. It felt so damn good. She started to lick the top of his manhood and sucked it very lightly.

  “Jesus!” he exclaimed.

  “Oh baby, I know what you’re gonna do,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  She was right. He stuck his virgin tongue deep into her other, more intimate set of lips. Emily tasted wonderful. It was not quite what he had imagines in over a thousand intimate sexuality fantasies. It was better. Much more so now… The lovely wet and most taste, almost like sea salt was incredibly erotic. Once again, the Little man thought he was about to explode in a big way.

  “Oh baby,” Emily repeated.

  The lovely odor, the delicious taste was so wonderful that he almost forgot about how he was getting his dick sucked off. Then the stupid thought occurred. Did this mean that she was his girlfriend? He felt like a loser again. Fuck that, he was a winner and he was going to fuck her!

  “Oh God, feels good, C.D…”

  She smiled at him but he didn’t see. He was too busy eating her pussy.

  “No way, not like this,” she said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Just for a little bit more,” she said. “I want to have my orgasm while you’re fucking me, no eating me.”

  Now it was C.D.’s last stand. He had to savor the sensuous taste of Emily. He had always heard of the clitoris. Now he was licking hers and she seemed to be getting off on it. She moaned and moaned. God damn was she going to cum first or was he?

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah,” C.D. answered.

  Desperate to prolong the experience, he continued to gently lick her clitoris and listen to the sweet music of her groaning ecstasy. This was fucking fun.

  “Enough. I need you inside me, C.D.”

  “Okay,” he said regretfully. He was already missing the mutual oral sex that occurred between them on this little bed.

  Then it happened.

  She took his penis in her hand and placed it inside the warm walls of her open womanhood. It was so hot. He thrust into her, gently at first.

  “Fuck me harder,” Emily said. He did so without thinking.

  It was so easy. Harder and harder until he was fucking her with all of his might. Every stroke presented the danger of premature ejaculation. He could feel himself seriously fighting off the urge to cum. Ecstasy was not very far away. He knew it and so did she.

  “Fuck me!”

  “Yeah!”

  “Fuck me, baby!”

  “Emily!”

  She finally made the noise that his heart of hearts desired to hear. It was the noise of a woman who was feeling like heaven when she was getting fucked like hell.

  “Oh, baby!” she screamed.

  “Emily!” he screamed back as he ravaged her.

  The full sensory experience turned out to be even more than he could ever hope for. It was like an illusion. It was like being in some fantasy world where life makes sense.

  “Baby!” she screamed.

  He continued to screw her with everything he had. Orgasm or not, this was not a done deal. C.D. had a whole lot more to give her.

  “Baby!” she screamed again.

  “Oh Emily, you like getting fucked?!”

  “Yeah!”

  “Say it, baby.”

  “I like getting fucked,” Emily screamed.

  The Little man felt pretty big or at least like his cock was big enough to do business with.

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah, Emily…”

  They kept fucking. Fucking. And fucking….

  “Christ, aren’t you spent yet?” she asked her man.

  “Almost, baby, not quite,” he answered her.

  The shy and insecure loser was fucking Emily like a winner. She was moaning and groaning and obviously pleased with his performance. Images that he thought would hinder him on the job such as picturing the busload of others she had been with never came. He was the one inside of her now.

  He was forgetting about the concept of love. The Little man had always been a hopeless romantic which usually made a man’s sex life just plain hopeless. He was the one in there now. Love at first sight was what he believed that Emily was. Charles remembered her walking down the middle of campus by the gardens. Her hair, her eyes and the lovely white dress she was wearing created the perfect memory. Didn’t Harlan Ellison once write a short story collection called “Love Ain’t Nothing but Sex Misspelled?” He thought so and now he believed it.

  His thrusts were growing weaker now but he couldn’t give up the ghost so to speak until she gave in first. Based on her screams, their mutual journey was almost over. She screamed and screamed…

  “Fuck me!”

  “Fuck me!”

  “Fuck me!”

  Until at last she couldn’t scream anymore and made a noise that sounded like she was drowning, struggling to breathe. Then she surrendered to the pleasure that he gave to her. He thought that she loved it when a man did her like this. He could only imagine what a powerful orgasm she had…

  His turn now…

  “Come on, baby, cum for me,” she begged.

  “Soon…”

  “You’re the best fuck ever!”

  The ultimate compliment opened up the floodgates. His longtime fixation with Emily now paid off with huge satisfaction. The sweat was brutal; they were both covered in it. When he finally did cum, the pleasure was all too brief but it was as sweet an experience as any that he ever had. La petite mort! That was what the French call orgasm “the little death.”

  La petite mort!

  The little death…

  The Little man…

  The huge orgasm!

  “Oh, baby,” Emily whispered in her sleep.

  “Yes, darling.”

  “You were good, baby, the best…”

  “Thanks,” he answered.

  ***

  The man who fantasized about having sex with two women at once and going to orgies and fucking famous actresses finally lost his virginity. All of the girlie magazines and pornographic movies he masturbated too couldn’t prepare him for the real deal. There was simply no substitute for really getting it on!

  “Maybe we should get dressed,” he said.

  “What?” asked a groggy Emily.

  “You know, I know I’m being too sensitive here but I love…”

  “Get the fuck off of me and out of my goddamn bed!” Emily screamed. It was not a scream of ecstasy this time.

  It was a scream of anger.

  “Are you nude?” she asked with disgust.

  “Yes.”

  “Get the fuck out of here!”

  He got up, nude and ran to the other bed. The dea
n and his wife may have had issues but not as many as he and Emily did. The erotic dream was over and now he woke up to a nightmare.

  “If you ever try to take advantage of me again like that, I’ll punch you in the balls!”

  “Sorry.”

  Paradise had become a sewer once again. Living with Emily and not being able to touch her was like being in Hell. She was so beautiful and yet she was such a bitch.

  “I’ll bet you are. You’ve got no more class than a kiddie pool pedophile.”

  His heart sank.

  “Yeah. Fool….”

  He was far beyond humiliated. There was nobody to save the loser and to make/create him into a hero.

  “I’m a loser,” he whispered.

  “No,” she said.

  “What?”

  “No, you’re not one.”

  “One what?” he asked.

  “A loser,” she answered.

  “Just not your type?”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  It was an awkward moment.

  “Don’t you know I love you?” he asked.

  “I know it,” she answered.

  This wasn’t Valentine’s Day and there was nothing funny about the end of the world. The party was almost over now… Had C.D. really experienced his dream girl with the full sensory experience? No. Just a wet dream…

  It was all the same. He was a douche bag and that was okay. The humiliation was a welcome experience because it was so damn familiar. All the same crap. He was a dreamer and a loser. Romantic dreams were broken and so were erotic nightmares….

  Christ, the last dance…

  “Maybe I’m not your type but you know, I don’t think you can afford to be so damn selective anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know maybe because I’m the last fucking man on the planet!”

  “Well… we don’t know that for certain…”

  “It’s a pretty damn good bet though, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Emily answered.

  “You weren’t very selective when you had a huge selection of jerk-offs to choose from, Emily.”

  She gave him an evil glance. Emily grimaced.

  “I’m worse than a loser; I’m a damn imbecile…”

  “No…”

  “Then fuck me, you damn tease!” he shouted.