My Spaceship Knows Ch. 01
Keywords: Ch., Spaceship, 01, Knows, My,
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"Yes, "she" is, in fact," the woman replied, chuckling deep in her throat. She turned away from me and concentrated on the walkway above us.
As the final parade began, I watched closely for Briann. I could see her hair just behind someone else's head, but I couldn't see her clearly until it was her turn for a final stride down and back. She'd changed into a corset in a darker shade of pink, almost rose, and I couldn't help but caress her collarbones, her bared shoulders with my eyes. I found myself fantasizing about holding her, kissing her there, just above the edge of the fabric, her smooth, cool skin beneath my lips – kissing her slowly, moving up to the hollow at the base of her neck, pressing my face against her there, feeling her pulse beneath my gently teasing tongue and moving up, over her adam's apple, up to trace the line of her elegant jaw –
And, even as I had to shift again to hide my erection, I realized what I'd just noticed. "Over her adam's apple." I gasped, blushing deep crimson, and heard laughter from beside me. The woman who I'd spoken to before was pointing at me and whispering to her companion. I bolted up, almost knocking my chair over in my haste, and pushed my way through the crowd toward the door. When I made it outside, I leaned against the smooth granite wall of the building, my chest heaving, my breath clouding the cold October air before my face, and could still feel my face burning.
I felt suddenly dizzy, and leaned over, my hands on my knees, afraid that I might pass out. An older couple walked by me, suddenly quiet, and then muttered disapprovingly when they were past. I sucked in the night air audibly, making a whistling sound deep in my throat. Eventually, I was able to stand up again.
It wasn't until I was halfway home on the bus that I realized I'd left my only dress jacket at the club. I never even considered going back for it.
****************
When I got home, there was an email waiting for me from Monica. "The photographer says there was an 'old guy' there in the press seats – so I assume you made it. Send me 500 words or so as soon as you can, it'll run on Thursday. You'll have the check by then, too." She knew the end of the month was Friday, and rent would be due. Maybe it was charity, after all. Either way, I had writing to do, so I sat down and opened a new Word document.
Six hundred words later (I knew Monica well enough to know she'd want to make some cuts, just to make the story partly hers), I replied to her email with the file and pushed back from the desk. I went into my miniscule kitchen and started the kettle for a cup of tea, then walked back out to the main room. Slowly, I undressed, dropping my shirt, my pants, my socks into a laundry basket behind the couch. I sat down, still wearing my boxers, and reached over to turn the radio on. Late at night, I tended to listen to the radio instead of discs or mp3s – it was nice to still feel connected to the rest of the world.
Idly, waiting for the water to boil, I slid my fingers inside the fly of my shorts and touched myself. A slightly musty, sweaty smell rose to my nostrils as I cupped my balls, then trailed my fingertips up over the rising shaft of my penis. I controlled my thoughts, focusing on the teenage girls I'd seen early that night, on their thighs wrapped tight in skirts or form-fitting jeans, and imagined what they'd look like without that restraint. I pictured their breasts, bouncing slightly as they were freed from t-shirts; I imagined their inexperienced mouths moving across me. I circled myself with fingers and thumb, and began to stroke more seriously.
A song ended on the radio, and there was a moment of silence. Then I heard the low, quiet notes at the beginning of "Space Oddity" start up, and long before Bowie started to sing, my fantasy had switched over. It was Briann kneeling in front of me, my hands tangled in that hair, those lips surrounding the head of my cock. I could feel the tongue I'd only seen slightly, momentarily, as it rippled down my flesh, and I laid my head back, eyes closed, lost in the sensation. I was dripping down over the sides of my fingers, already feeling it rise within me, pulling back every time I got too close, moaning deep in my throat. Suddenly, I pictured her – pictured "him" -- standing up in front of me, bare-chested, nipples taut, working his way out of a short, sleek skirt, turning away to slide fishnet stockings down off of perfect, sleek-smooth thighs, then tugging a pair of black silk panties down just far enough to expose the cleft of his beautiful ass then teasingly back up again, bending further over, thrusting himself almost into my lap, almost against my hardness –
And a wave of liquid pleasure seemed to burst through me, drawing every muscle taut, filling my body until I came in one long spurt up over my chest, up my neck, then another that started below my nipples and slid down my belly, then a few more that made the shaft of my cock too slick to stroke, and my hand slid off into my lap. I lay back, breathing heavily, my whole body trembling, and was able to hear the radio again:
"I'm feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go"
I lay there, worn out and confused, until I finally fell asleep.
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Keywords: Ch., Spaceship, 01, Knows, My,