A dream dating

 

"She's a nymphomaniac," Charlie said to his friend Sam, showing him a photo on his phone.

"How do you know?" Sam turned to Charlie.

"She invited me to her house once." Charlie laughed.

“You must have seen a dream. She looks like a noble, gentle woman.”

“I didn't say she is not a gentlewoman. On the other hand, one cannot judge one's feelings and desires by looking at the beauty and gentleness of the face, friend. We look like gentlemen too. Gentle nature, hearty smile, modest speech, all these we have. But are we gentlemen? The tender lips of the virgins and the small breasts like rosebuds make us crazy. Then we wait for the devil's gospel. Isn't it true?”

"So, can you say this poor woman is like that?"

"I told you my experience." Charlie laughed again.

 "What was that experience like?"

"That was a funny story."

“I know you are an imaginative genius who writes stories. So keep away your funny imaginations and tell only the truth.”

"I am only telling you the truth." Charlie continued. “One day I met her at a cafe. That was a marvelous sight. She emerged before me like a rainbow on a beautiful evening.”

"Charlie... I don't want your literature of lies."

“This is not literature my dear, When I saw her in front of me, it was like a rainbow appeared. The view was beautiful. Charming eyes, lips like the fruit of love, big breasts hanging like a Halloween pumpkin..! All are vein-pounding imaginative fun. I glared at her in surprise. She noticed my look. She said with a smile, your penetrating look makes me crave. You are a person who can amuse a woman with a magic look. So, I invite you to my house, I am alone there. Let us make today's black night without moonlight a white night of love."

"Beautiful imagination..! You are a fox.” Sam said disgruntled.

  "Let me tell you the rest, and then you decide whether it's a story or a reality." Charlie continued. “So on that night, I reached her house. She had lit candles with red flames on the candelabra for me. In its dim light, we stared at each other for a while, listening to ancient aristocratic chamber music from a gramophone record, then performed a ballroom dance in the rhythmic music. After that, I enjoyed the delicious food prepared by her. She had the Thanksgiving turkey ready for me. After all, we entered the Colosseum of Combat, her bedroom, where I turned into a gladiator lion. Rays of passion shed light from the pendant lamp hung above the couch of lust, and they caressed us like golden rays on a full moon night. The hearty chorus of chamber music from the gramophone made a paradise sensation there. In that divine moment, she came in a reddish nightgown like an angel. And she asked from the bed, have you seen the nest of a woodpecker? I said, no. The next moment she lifted her gown and crouched on the bed. I saw that amazing sight.” Charlie looked at Sam with a funny smile.

"What?"

"The nest of a woodpecker..!” Charlie continued excitedly. “That sight made my veins tremble. I became a lion in the Roman Colosseum and jumped into that bed with a wild passion. The heavens and the earth trembled at that battle.”

"Was there any earthquake in the fight?" Sam asked.

“Not an earthquake, but a volcanic eruption. Lava flowed. She burst out laughing in the fun."

Charlie also laughed at Sam's look.

“Is this a story you wrote or the story to be written?” Sam asked Charlie.

"I wish it would have happened like this." Charlie paused and continued. “I love her. Please help me make this beautiful dream a reality. Aren't you my best friend? Please help me.”

"How?"

"Advise me how can I meet her, I mean a dating."

"Well, let's check out that cafe she's coming to."

The next day they went to the cafe where she used to come. After waiting there for a while she came. Sam sat down in a chair across from her and started talking to her. Charlie, shy and afraid to talk to women, watched it all and sat elsewhere. Sam, a master of handling women, continued the conversation, amusing her and making her laugh. Then, after a short conversation, Sam called Charlie over to the table.

“He likes you a lot. What is your opinion?” Sam asked her.

"Would you like to be a life partner or a one-night stand?" She looked at Charlie with a smile.

“I want to make you my life partner,” Charlie said excitedly.

“Okay, you come home today. Let's talk.”

She left.

“Today will be a night of lust plays in ancient Pompeii. I will come and tell you a thrilling story of this fun.” Charlie said enthusiastically.

That night, thanks to Sam, Charlie puts on a suit and coat and goes to her house as a boyfriend.

The next day, Sam found Charlie on the road. He had some difficulty walking.

"What's up?" Sam rushed to his side.

"This is the aftermath of yesterday's story,” Charlie said with difficulty.

“What is that? Did the Pompeii plays of lust make you this way?” Sam laughed.

"Her boyfriend was also there when I went there."

"And then? Did he attack you?"

"He petted me."

“Petted?”

“Yes, dude, he is gay, a homosexual..!”

Sam laughed out loud. "So yesterday was indeed a Pompeian night of horrible lust?"

"Yes, indeed it would have been a bloody Pompeii night, but I got away before that." 

"Then this injury of yours?"

“Between the fight of lust, he used a special weapon, a beer bottle. I got a nice hit in my..., That's it.”

"So you got a thrilling story to write?"

“Yes, it would be a thriller if written. You come with me let’s see a doctor.”

"What will you tell the doctor?" Sam asked between laughs.

"Let's say it's an injury caused when the meteorite fell." After making a sigh he continued. “I wish to be a eunuch by castrating to get rid of the fever of damn lust.”

“Love and lust are beautiful, giving peace when they play by keeping the justice given by God or it will be the horrible fun of Satan,” Sam said.

© 2023 Sha K – All Rights Reserved

The best price

 

He went to the yard sale to see if there were any useful items.

Old household items are lined up there.

As he searched through it, a small painting caught his eye. He took it.

It cost ten dollars. He bought the painting.

He was neither an art connoisseur nor a fan. The wallpaper in the living room of the house was slightly torn in one place. He bought the painting to cover that part.

He put the painting there and covered the ugliness on the wall.

Meanwhile, for fun, he took a photo of it and posted it on a site that sells paintings.

What he heard later was a surprising thing, it was a precious work of a world-famous artist..!

Demanding calls flowed to his phone, like a storm or a flood.

The price of that work, which was bought for ten dollars, went up to five hundred thousand dollars.

He told everyone, three million dollars, no less.

Hearing the price he mentioned, one of them who called him agreed to pay that amount. 

That customer came to his home at night.

“As I said on the phone, the cost of this painting is three million dollars. Pay it and take the painting.” He told the buyer.

“Three million dollars is too little for this great work. Because this is a precious painting that the world is looking for. So I intend to give you a better price for it.” The buyer said.

“Only a true art connoisseur like you can know its true value. I highly appreciate your comment. How much would you pay for it?”

“How much is your life worth? the same."

Hearing the buyer's reply, he looked suspiciously. "I don't understand?"

The next moment the buyer pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at him. “Your life is the price I intend to give to this magnificent art. That’s all, take that painting. All I have to lose is one bullet. Its price is very low. I do not wish to acquire this precious work by paying the price of a bullet. Instead, the price this creation deserves is the incalculable price of your life. I would like to buy it with that. Am I not paying the best price? Let's get this deal done quickly. Hurry up."

Without saying anything he took the painting and gave it to the buyer.

With a smile, the buyer left with the painting.

His face also showed a satisfaction that he had sold the painting for a best price.

© 2023 Sha K – All Rights Reserved

The explorer of love and lust

 

The name of that YouTube channel was Magic Stories, a channel of audio erotic stories.

Roshan was a subscriber to that channel.

He played a video of a new story on it and sat down to listen to it.

A pleasant feminine voice began the story.

'On that night showered with chilled drops of sensation, he came with the fragrant linden flowers. The wind sang beautifully to the rhythm of the rain. He hugged me in that love song composed by the wind and rain in the mysteriousness of the night. His lips and fingers spread the pleasure and pain of lust in my body. He wrote the love words of the Psalms on my large breasts with a bird's feather dipped in honey, reddened my lips with strawberries, and I lay with my eyes closed. As the night embraces the earth with a mysterious silence, as the frenzied waves gently caress the shore, as the gentle breeze kisses the flowers and sings, he embraced me to be the energy of love. That energy awakened my senses as the gospel of revelation. I learned that love is an energy, a mind-awakening energy. Then she asked happily. "Who are you?"

"A cupid who gives salvation to the lovers who seek the sensations of love." He smiled and said. “In your enchanted eyes of love, in your cheeks reddened by passion, in your lips softened by lust, in your beautiful pomegranates like a wine glass, all I have filled with those indescribable feelings of salvation. Didn't you know that?”

"Knowing, I lie absorbed in its ecstasy." She whispered. “Darling, hug me tightly and then pour those love gospels on me like a singing downpour. Let me flow in it like a great stream of love. I have been waiting for this lovely night for years.”

After hearing that audio story, Roshan picked up the phone and dialed a number.

A woman's voice was heard on the other end. "Hello."

"How are you, the rose of Sharon?"

"Oh, Roshan."

"Do you recognize my voice?"

"No one has ever called me Rose of Sharon, though we have only met once."

"Shall we meet tonight?" He asked in a sweet tone. "I want to come to that valley of lily one more time.”

“Why?”

 “To plow that swamp." He laughed

 "You are naughty fox. But you forget what I told you then? Did you?"

“No.”

"If so, tell me, what was that thing?"

"You said, you will not do it with anyone more than once."

"Yes, you remember it. I'm not a nymphomaniac. It seems like a new world when I see some special qualities in some people. Then I wish to explore that world. That's how I called you to my bedroom. I have found the world that you are. There is nothing new to be found in it. So we will no longer meet in bed.”

"But my dear, the story you wrote about finding that new world in me is awesome," Roshan said with a laugh.

“What do you mean?”

“I am talking about your new story that you have published on your channel ‘The magic stories’. I am a subscriber to your channel. I have just heard your new story ‘The rain song’, which is a poetic narration of love, marvelous..! Congratulation and I am happy to know that you are the creator of these magic stories. Great work..!”

She didn’t say anything, Roshan continued with a laugh.

“Darling, you turned our first meeting into a lovely story. I am happy to be the hero of your story. So, why don't you write another story like this? Shall I come tonight for another thrilling story?”

He heard a sigh from her in response.

She said nothing for a few moments. Then she said in a low, unpleasant voice. "Okay, you come tonight."

“Yes, this will be an opportunity for you to create another thrilling story. Let us call it ‘The Song of black night.” He laughed, she too.

“Yes, let’s call the story so.”

Roshan came to the storyteller's house.

"Darling, my bouquet of congratulations to you the great storyteller who creates the stories of love poetically." He presents her with flowers.

She invited him to her bedroom and gave him a welcome drink.

After the drink, Roshan got up to hug her. “My love, the moon in the spring, let me nibble this honey in this horrible night of Satan.”

She moved backward with a funny gesture and called him, “Come on cupid, come up and taste this sweet chilly, the chilly of hell.”

Roshan made a few steps of dance and ran towards her. But, he couldn’t touch her. Before getting her, he fell.

He did not open his eyes anymore.

That night, a new story, the song of black night, came on her channel.

At the end of the story, the heroine told the hero who was lying dead in her bedroom.

“Darling, I am sorry, I have no other way. Now, you know who I am. I don't want to be known as a writer of erotic stories. You recognized me who sat inside a veil and wrote stories to entertain people. All my stories are my exploration seeking the true nature of love and lust. I experienced it well and wrote those wonderful feelings of love and lust as stories of revelations for others without any colors of imagination or speculation. That is why the stories were beautiful. But I have to say that no one had recognized me except you. So I am compelled to say goodbye. Goodbye darling, peace in rest.”

© 2023 Sha K – All Rights Reserved

The nymphomaniac

 

That night too, he saw someone coming to the woman's house. Her house was inside a large wall covered with bougainvillea plants, a large house that looked like a nobleman's bungalow. The woman lived there alone. In the morning she goes out by car, then comes the night, after dark. Almost every day during that returning to home a man would be seen with her, or someone would come there to see her. After this one thing was brought to his attention, he kept a close eye on it every day. His house is right next door to the house where the woman lives, so he is her neighbor, her only neighbor.

There were no other houses there. It was forest all around. Those two houses in it belonged to one owner. She comes to live in the second house after he, who works in government service, comes to live there as a tenant.

He wasn't going to get to know the woman who looked like she was not ready to talk or befriend anyone.

He was always watching her leave in the morning and come in at night. It was during that observation that he noticed men coming to the house every night, with or without her.

"She's a sex-addicted nymphomaniac." One night he saw the sight and said to himself. “Each night she sips new flavors of lust. How beautiful is her life..! She can be an aphrodisiac of feelings. That is why people come there to participate in that game with her. The body of her that has passed fifty years in appearance is a garden of lust. In that wild look of her incongruity, in the charming beauty of her plump red lips like flowers, in her large breasts as long as a half-winded balloon, and in her large buttocks as if the implant had been placed lust has filled beautifully like a poem."

Having said that, he took a deep breath in the vibration of an emotion that had agitated his veins.

The next night no one came with the woman. He waited by the window for a long time. No one was seen on the steps of that house.

“No one today. So I am her fruit today.” Immediately after saying this, he dressed decently, perfumed himself, and went to the steps of her house nobly and rang the bell.

"Who?" He heard her voice from a speaker at the gate.

“I'm Robert, your neighbor. I have come to meet you.” He humbly said with a smile.

“I only allow my customers here at this time.” A dull voice.

“Then consider me a customer.” He laughed again.

The next moment the gate opened.

“I am the lover who goes to Madame Bovary's house with flowers, or Lady Chatterley's lover who goes to nibble the potion of lust. Women are the springs of the earth. They surround men like a spring season with the fragrance of frenzy, the colors of mind-melting newness, and the sweetness that thrills the veins. Men live by dreaming, worshiping, and experiencing this spring. What a good player God is who creates this beauty of feeling and disturbs the earth..! Today I will thoroughly enjoy this beauty that looks like an ancient Greek sculpture of lust.” He said excitedly to himself as he stepped through the gate and entered.

He was caressed and entertained by the gentle breeze that was singing in the garden around the house on that slight moonlit night. The birds chirped merrily, welcoming a night of love.

"The beautiful night that filled with the scent of love." Seeing all this he whispered. “The full moon has come out from the curtain with the aura of heaven, along with the breeze and birds that humming the tune of love. I have entered heaven."  He whispered.

He knew as he walked that his veins throbbed awake to the magnificent beat of his heart.

As he neared the front door, it opened.

She appeared before him as beautiful as a goddess. The perfume that wafted from her mane seemed to him to be an ethereal fragrance of heaven. He closed his eyes for a moment and savored the aroma.

"Mr...?" she called out.

"Robert." He said humbly. “He held out the flower in his hand to her.

She took it and glared at his smile with a look of a wild expression.

"Hope you're all right." He said in a loving tone.

Without answering, she gestured to a seat. Then she went inside.

A little later she came back with a juice, a pomegranate juice in a beautiful wine glass.

“I give my customers only one drink to drink. The juice of the pomegranate is mentioned in the scriptures.” She said while giving him the juice.

He noticed that her face was still full of that incongruous wild expression.

“Yes, this is a special drink. In the Song of Solomon, is the pomegranate the fruit of love?” He said with a smile as he sipped the juice.

She did not speak. She stared at him with that incongruous expression.

“Who is she really, a love flower or the bloodthirsty daughter of Dracula?” He asked himself seeing that look. “Will this vampire drink my blood?”

She left there. A little later she came again, wearing a red nightgown. The sight made his veins tremble. He could feel her large breasts dancing in front of him as they protruded out of the gown. She held out her hand as he stared at it.

“Three hundred dollars. That is my fee for this service. It should be paid in advance.”

He immediately took out the wallet and gave her three hundred dollars.

"Okay come along." She took him to an inner room.

She said as she reached the front of the room. “You must enter this room with your eyes closed, and then open your eyes only after I say so. If you break this rule, you will be immediately kicked out of the room. And that's the deal."

"Okay, I'll do that." He said in an emotional voice.

She opened the door of the room. Its sound made him tremble like a bell ringing of love. 

“Come in, close your eyes. Never open your eyes even a little without me telling you to. If you open it, you'll lose your three hundred dollars.” She said as if it was a command.

"No, it won't open." He whispered, then closed his eyes and entered the room like a blind man. She took him by the hand and led him somewhere. Then asked to sit on a chair. He sat down. There was a table in front.

"What game is this?" he asked himself. “Is she a sexual sadist? A sex vampire who is going to nibble, peck, bite, and slap me in the dark and eat me raw?” A fear ran through him. As he sat restlessly with fear, he smelled scented candles burning.

“What is going on here? Candles are burning all around, and various fragrances. Maybe it's a new play with scented oils, like aromatherapy? She is a goddess of love. That's why people come here every night. Will she create a new ism in the art of eroticism?”

While he was talking to himself like that, she told him to open his eyes.

He opened his eyes. The room was lit only by the dim light of a few candles with red filaments burning on the table. She sits facing him. A black metal ornament like a crown is placed on her head. Large black rings in the ears. A coin was found on a board on the table. He recognized what the board is.

“Ouija board...!” He looked at it in surprise and said.

"Whose spirit do you want to talk to?" she asked.

For a moment he was speechless. He kept staring at her.

“I have never disappointed anyone who came here. All of them have seen the presence of their loved ones here. This board is of truth. Whose spirit would you like to call here? I will show you his presence here.” She looked at him.

He realized where he came to. A sigh of rage escaped him.

"Who did you come here for?"

"First you show me the presence of a spirit here."

She moved the coin on the Ouija board and began calling out to the soul. He stared at the coin that was moving through the board. It went through every letter on the board. After a while, she said.

"We have a soul beside us."

"What's the proof?" he immediately asked.

"Are you a believer?"

"Yes, I believe in God."

"Have you seen God?"

"No one has seen God."

“Indeed. And yet we believe. Such are our affairs. For some things, we don't need proof, but for some things we need proof."

"I don't believe in this scam."

"Good spirit, make this man know your presence." She said to the spirit.

The next moment the pointer on the Ouija board started moving very quickly. It was moving over the letters. She looked at it and understood the spirit's speech. After a while, the coin stopped.

She looked up. “You are not here to speak to the spirit. The soul says that you have come here looking for a nymphomaniac. Is that right?”

"That's right."

"You think I'm a nymphomaniac?"

“Yes, people come here every night. You who have a job can't be considered a sex worker."

“In fact, we are all living with excessive addiction. The most important of these is the hunger for food and the lust. The hunger of the body makes us look for food. In the same way, lust is the hunger of the mind. But in both these cases, except for a few of us, everyone else is moderate. They show dignity by controlling that craving within. What's the reason? Is it because they are afraid of God and hell?"

"Can't think that. They fear society.”

“Very correct answer. Yes, that's the point. We those who live here decently are not being holy. Rather we fear the society we live in, fear the law of us, we remember our relationships, and we remember our life. So we control our extreme cravings and live a dignified life. That is the truth. So by this fact, it can be said that all women are nymphomaniacs. Similarly, men can also be said to be womanizers. There is no one here who fears God and lives righteously. Everyone is afraid of humans. A woman is like a musical instrument. If you can play it well you can hear a beautiful melody from it. If you don't know how to play, the tone will be distorted. Everything we are looking for is right next to us. Our problem is that we don't have the knowledge and patience to find it." She paused and continued. “Like any woman, I am a nymphomaniac who wants to enjoy the sweetness of lust without limit. But there is no way to implement it, because of the above said reasons. We live here in fear. Look, how cleverly God controls us by ourselves..! If freedom is to live as we wish, we are not free in this life. So we live here pretending to be gentlemen and saints by pampering our inner desires. That's how we can live, right?”

"Yes." He got up and walked out without saying anything else.

© 2023 K Shajahan – All Rights Reserved