At the end of the Orgy
At the end of the Orgy
"Of all the delights of this world man cares most for is sexual intercourse. He will go any length for it--risk fortune, character, reputation, life itself. and what do you think he has done? He has left it out of his heaven! Prayer takes its place." Mark Twain "Sex" 1906
At the end of the orgy, when every last drop of blood and cum and sweat and sticky, frothy vaginal discharge, had been spilt, on bellies and faces and silken sheets and bald and hairy cocks and cunts and four poster beds and elegant tapestries, and each one of them, the princes and debutantes, the astronauts and ballerinas, the president and her diva lover, the vampires and were-people, the ninjas, the pirates, the vikings, the shaved bears and the poets, lay, or sat with their heads on fur pillows, down comforters, rocket-scientist engineered tempur foam or each other's naked bodies, brains still swimming in drug crusted cerebellum love song, pores, still dripping, acid and barbituate laced gallons of sweat, sated and tired and stretched and emptied and full, it occurred to someone, later no one could remember who, that now they were invincible and they could do anything.
She, ( i say she, because later most would recall this person's extraordinary beauty, their devil may care attitude and the incredible sillouete of their body, but perhaps, this is just my own recollection of things, perhaps it was a man, or perhaps it was me, my memory is really quite fuzzy, i had, after all, drank an awful lot of wine) picked her naked body off the warm, baked stones by the giant roaring fireplace, looked up at clean, black sky, wiped naked of stars in the giant spotlight glow of the ominously, low moon, hanging through the solarium windows, and exploded, straight through the glass ,up, into the infinite night air and in seconds had reached the distant cold lunar surface which she caressed and stroked and finally inserted, fully into her body, washing the night sky in glistening starlight and filling her in an eery luminescence, which trailed behind her as she made her way back through the gaping hole in the ceiling, breathed in a huge gust of air, swallowing the broken glass and screws and bits of steel and infused them with the aura of the moon deep inside her, spit out a fractal pattern of stained glass, white light and darkness, which spread out in a neon maze of sex and acid across the domed ceiling, astonishing the huddled and gaping onlookers.
There was much great to do and goings on then, some changed the color of their skins to , tattoos and patterns, eyes to gold or ruby red were obvious to follow, becoming ten feet tall with perfectly chiseled bodies, immaculately trimmed and lusciously manicured pubic mounds, others conjured the ghosts of dead relatives, their childhood idols, James Dean, Betty Paige and in one strange case Gerald Ford, all of whom, sensing the raw sexuality and general aura of invincible euphoria, joined in the revelry, removed their clothes and were subsumed wholly in the throbbing mound of perfect, sweaty flesh, whose powers became more arcane and incredible, absolute and total.
The manor walls slowly faded, collapsed, and in their place grew a giant phallic mountain, bald shaft perfectly smooth, throbbing, at its' enflamed peak a volcanic geyser of sex and drugs and music and peace and love and chaos, ejaculating, miles high, into the stratosphere, creating a massive anvil cloud, swirling orgasmically in the lavender scented winds that swirled and shifted, sucked on and saturated the earthen body of the planet, caressed and aroused until it slowly moistened and opened the gaping, gushing, hurricane vagina of the Earth and together, the hurricane, mother, whore, cunt of the planet and the all fucking all coming volcano mountain of the orgy gods shot giant golden flourishes of cum over the body and the genitals of the entire world that bathed in the ocean of cum that dripped and splattered over the suburban mothers, who threw down their aprons, disavowed the cleanliness of their kitchen prisons, the patriarch fathers, the rat race faceless men, who murdered their slaver bosses, ate their faces, set the buildings on fire as they rode into the sunset, the politicians that quit their lies, the preachers that embraced sin, and the children, who forgot their parents, escaped their bedrooms and found each other in empty fields of imagination, who escaped into a world of sleep and dreams and void and soft.
As the tidal waves of ejaculate, the swirling vortex of sucking, gulping, hurricane sex engulfed the cities, washed away the country sides, all discovered the truth of this new world of endless possibility and all renounced their old life and joined, in the ever growing, ever moving, ever swarming wave of sex, and war, poverty, pain, sadness, fear, nightmares, hate, anger and evil were all permanently eradicated, leaving only a pulsing skyscraper of human sex, each head held back, eyes pinched shut, mouth hanging open, in a perfect expression of a never ending orgasm a fuck all pulsing beating wave of heat and moans and joy.
At the end of the orgy, when every last drop of blood and cum and sweat and sticky, frothy vaginal discharge, had been spilt, on bellies and faces and silken sheets and bald and hairy cocks and cunts and four poster beds and elegant tapestries, and each one of them, the princes and debutantes, the astronauts and ballerinas, the president and her diva lover, the vampires and were-people, the ninjas, the pirates, the vikings, the shaved bears and the poets, lay, or sat with their heads on fur pillows, down comforters, rocket-scientist engineered tempur foam or each other's naked bodies, brains still swimming in drug crusted cerebellum love song, pores, still dripping, acid and barbituate laced gallons of sweat, sated and tired and stretched and emptied and full, it occurred to someone, later no one could remember who, that now they were invincible and they could do anything.
She, ( i say she, because later most would recall this person's extraordinary beauty, their devil may care attitude and the incredible sillouete of their body, but perhaps, this is just my own recollection of things, perhaps it was a man, or perhaps it was me, my memory is really quite fuzzy, i had, after all, drank an awful lot of wine) picked her naked body off the warm, baked stones by the giant roaring fireplace, looked up at clean, black sky, wiped naked of stars in the giant spotlight glow of the ominously, low moon, hanging through the solarium windows, and exploded, straight through the glass ,up, into the infinite night air and in seconds had reached the distant cold lunar surface which she caressed and stroked and finally inserted, fully into her body, washing the night sky in glistening starlight and filling her in an eery luminescence, which trailed behind her as she made her way back through the gaping hole in the ceiling, breathed in a huge gust of air, swallowing the broken glass and screws and bits of steel and infused them with the aura of the moon deep inside her, spit out a fractal pattern of stained glass, white light and darkness, which spread out in a neon maze of sex and acid across the domed ceiling, astonishing the huddled and gaping onlookers.
There was much great to do and goings on then, some changed the color of their skins to , tattoos and patterns, eyes to gold or ruby red were obvious to follow, becoming ten feet tall with perfectly chiseled bodies, immaculately trimmed and lusciously manicured pubic mounds, others conjured the ghosts of dead relatives, their childhood idols, James Dean, Betty Paige and in one strange case Gerald Ford, all of whom, sensing the raw sexuality and general aura of invincible euphoria, joined in the revelry, removed their clothes and were subsumed wholly in the throbbing mound of perfect, sweaty flesh, whose powers became more arcane and incredible, absolute and total.
The manor walls slowly faded, collapsed, and in their place grew a giant phallic mountain, bald shaft perfectly smooth, throbbing, at its' enflamed peak a volcanic geyser of sex and drugs and music and peace and love and chaos, ejaculating, miles high, into the stratosphere, creating a massive anvil cloud, swirling orgasmically in the lavender scented winds that swirled and shifted, sucked on and saturated the earthen body of the planet, caressed and aroused until it slowly moistened and opened the gaping, gushing, hurricane vagina of the Earth and together, the hurricane, mother, whore, cunt of the planet and the all fucking all coming volcano mountain of the orgy gods shot giant golden flourishes of cum over the body and the genitals of the entire world that bathed in the ocean of cum that dripped and splattered over the suburban mothers, who threw down their aprons, disavowed the cleanliness of their kitchen prisons, the patriarch fathers, the rat race faceless men, who murdered their slaver bosses, ate their faces, set the buildings on fire as they rode into the sunset, the politicians that quit their lies, the preachers that embraced sin, and the children, who forgot their parents, escaped their bedrooms and found each other in empty fields of imagination, who escaped into a world of sleep and dreams and void and soft.
As the tidal waves of ejaculate, the swirling vortex of sucking, gulping, hurricane sex engulfed the cities, washed away the country sides, all discovered the truth of this new world of endless possibility and all renounced their old life and joined, in the ever growing, ever moving, ever swarming wave of sex, and war, poverty, pain, sadness, fear, nightmares, hate, anger and evil were all permanently eradicated, leaving only a pulsing skyscraper of human sex, each head held back, eyes pinched shut, mouth hanging open, in a perfect expression of a never ending orgasm a fuck all pulsing beating wave of heat and moans and joy.