by Adam Jade
Bandit clicked through the screens on the board, looking for his favorite area. He glanced at the clock on his right; 0239, he should have been in bed, but what the hell, he was awake, the computer was here, so was he. Stuff happens.
The screen popped up and he scrolled through the
drivel and chaff, reading some of the more interesting personal ads that people had
Who says size ain't everything? Particulars. Yup, gotta wonder where her mind is, Bandit chuckled to himself. He could afford to laugh, he'd posted his own message two weeks ago, so far, there had been no meaningful replies.
Do you like Food, Fun, and Phone?
Food Boy, Bandit smiled. Or Girl, it was hard to
tell with that message. Nothing else grabbed his immediate attention, so he clicked into
his personal mailbox and checked for new replies. Only one:
Well, that got my attention, he thought reading the reply over again. Wonder if she typoed the "Virtua" or if it was intended? The quote from the Highway Man was probably in reference to his own poke with his ad...something about a Sword and Adventure, was all he really remembered. He hadn't been serious enough to pay attention to his own ad. Didn't really expect a response either. But then, this is the Internet Age, all things are possible. A glint of light from the full moon outside made him laugh. Well, I'm looking but I don't see you!
The beep of the paging icon jolted him for a moment when he realized someone else was on the board wanting to chat. Don't really have the patience for it tonight, but what the hey --
He clicked over to the chat screen and found an inset picture awaiting him of a woman in 1800's costume dressed to look like the female version of the Highway Man. Her thick dark hair was plaited down the middle of her back in the three-quarter faced pose. A black silk mask like Zorro's covered her eyes, accentuating lush deep red lips. She wore a deep crimson surcoat with a white ruffled shirt that was partially unbuttoned. Hints of breasts peeked through the opening.
V: Shall we test your mettle and your sword
Bandit chuckled and began a reply:
He noticed then, that the image moved her lips in sync to the typed words. Nice, he thought, video receiver. Nice toy. But then he remembered he had no means to accept or receive those same type of messages.
The inset grew bigger, taking up three quarters of his 20 inch monitor. "Touch me", her lips mouthed and the opening in her ruffled shirt seemed to widen and deepen exposing more of her tanned flesh.
He reached out thinking, it's virtual, what the hell, why not. Fingers buzzed a moment with the flicker of static and soft flesh gave under the pressure of his touch. The barest hint of white ruffle showed above the outline of his monitor's surface. Puzzlement creased his brow. Wonder made him smile and reach out with both hands. An idle hand of hers wandered up to caress or touch one of his hands. He felt her firm touch, strong fingers as she touched then held his hands together. And pulled!
He floated for a millenia of moments in a universe of white noise, the sky around him was the snowy nothing of an off-channel an tv. No ground, no gravity, no sound. He drifted in the womb of white nothing waiting.
The Highway Man came riding, riding, riding
Hazy, fogged consciousness flowed back to him on a tide of slow currents; sounds and smells floating on the waters of his thoughts. The faint scent of jasmine stole past his nose, it's his favorite scent...incense, he corrects. Burnt wax saunters past. There are candles lit, Bandit thought. He was blindfolded, the material felt like silk, perfumed maybe. His arms were slightly cramped around the shoulders, enough to notice, but not enough to care. They were tied above his head to...bedposts, he was lying down on a firm semi-giving surface. He felt the cool slickness of silk or satin against his nakedness. Naked? When did that happen? Memory stirred momently and reminded him of the steamy chat moments(?) ago. The fabric was cool, smooth and slippery; a caress against his skin that might slip away at any moment.
Sounds ebbed into range, the soft playing of harp and flute, a quick sputter of flame from the candle and his own breathing, steady and calm but edging toward nervous as he tried to place his surroundings.
A movement in the air currents, a draft of cooler air that brushes the hairs on his bared chest. Bandit heard the click of a door closing slowly in what was meant to be quiet. His heightened senses drink in the new stimuli. Clean. Powder, baby powder. Oil, something with a musk scent to it. She is closer. She? Something on a subconscious level told him that his visitor was female. The Highway Girl? Must be. He turned to face the movement he senses told him was happening. A cool finger touched his lips shh-ing him from voicing any questions.
The scents were more pungent. The warmth of her body radiated against his chest and face as she reached across him to test the bindings. The filmy garment she wore touched his cheek like a butterfly wing, momentary and fragile in its caress. She leaned closer still and breathed hotly on his neck just below the ear; no words, just the in and out of breath as if she were tasting him with her nose.
A hand, her right perhaps, grazed his left ear tracing a long spider path down his neck, along the collarbone and down to his breast circling and teasing the nipple, dancing softly across the chest hairs that frost his skin, like light frosting on a doughnut. The fingers traced again down to the rippled abdomen dipping briefly into his navel and then following the hairline further south. A breeze wafted momently along his lower body as the satin sheet glided away. Electric tingles sparked and spread from between his legs building slowly towards a heat that grows and expands. Her fingers raked gently through his dark pubic hair caressing and tasting the texture of his manhood, the silkiness of skin that knows no calluses nor roughness as if babied and pampered regularly.
Bandit tried to relax and accompany the growing excitement at the same time. Fingernails dragged slowly down his inner thigh, turned and became two hands as they clawed again back up under his buttocks grabbing both cheeks and squeezing with firm gentleness.
She was gone away a long moment and he wondered where she had gone until he heard the scrabble of toys or tools or weapons on a tabletop to his right behind his ears. A moment later, the tickle touch of a feathery something breathed across his breasts moving only the hairs and touching the skin only the slightest. She traced long wide circles on the length of his body spiraling smaller until she was brushing his nipples in a tight figure eight.
The feather traced a long slow line down to his genitals that faded ever so faintly to be replaced by the feel of animal rough-smooth fingers caressing upward from his left foot. Leather fingers dug in deeper along his thighs pressing them slowly apart. In the moment that the two leather hands met around his stiff penis a hot wet suction gripped the length of his shaft shocking him with ecstasy. The moment last several beats before disappearing and becoming a slow series of nips and nibbles up the length of the shaft and back down to its base. The nips continued along his belly up to his hard nipples. Flicks of hot coarse wetness further stiffened all of him. Weight pressed down on either side of his shoulders while she straddled his thighs, hooking them under her feet. A human tide, she pulled herself along his belly and chest caressing his body with her breasts while she nibbled her way to his neck nipping playfully at the side before pulling the tide back down to his waist. Her thick hair cascaded over his face like spidery rain and then flowed over him like a slow wash of threads. Musk spice filled his nose again as her hair passed over his face. On the second pass, instead of nipping at his chest, her lips brushed and kissed up to his right ear, pausing just under the lobe. A beat later heat flowed hot and rough between his lips as her tongue grappled with his, tasting him and tracing his teeth, lips and tongue.
Bandit strained against the silk scarf bonds wanting to grab her, return the fevered feel of her hands and mouth. She sensed this and sat up, wetness touching his upper thighs. With practiced agility she raised herself up and turned so he sensed the fire between her thighs poised over his mouth. He raised himself up against the strain of the scarves and kissed her wet lips. She waited till the last moment, just as his lips would have touched, she raised her hips out of range. A hand reached back and pressed firmly on his chest, a silent command to wait. The same wet heated suction lowered over his shaft again, more intense and eager than moments earlier. Bandit heard moans escaping his own lips, there was no help for it; he raised his hips to the source of extreme heat. Her tongue flicked and lathered over his length from base to tip. He tried again to approach the wet muskiness above his face. Instead of pulling away, she lowered herself on the target of his mouth. he tasted naked slickness only the faintest patch of hair tickling his chin. He heard moans again, this time overflowing over his cock, the vibrations tickling something deep inside of him.
He traced long slow kisses along her bare lips from stem to stern diving deep into her with his tongue only to be pushed deeper into the pillows beneath him as she drove her hips lower. Her feet slipped beneath his shoulders pulling him up into her. He sucked at her lips and nibbled up behind her into that little space between her ass and her love; a stretch and his tongue lathed around her pucker before he nipped and nibbled his way from her spread cheeks to her burning lips.
Concentration was too hard for him anymore, he wanted to give way to her and explode, he wanted to tear loose from the scarves and savage her with the beast he was becoming. He wanted to push his face deep into her. Her tongue was lapping alternately over balls and shaft while her hands gripped and loosened on his shaft.
Her weight shifted around the hand that held firmly to his stiff cock, an anchor of ecstasy she was revolving around. One hand pressed down on his chest while the over guided him in. Both hands cupped his shoulders as she lifted and pushed swayed fore and aft brushing tits against chest, naked lovehole against coarse pubic hair; their pubic bones kissing through heat-fired flesh. Encouraging half words, sudden gasps, and oh gods called him to his destiny. She rode deeply, saddling hard into his horn and pulling slowly up, repeating it again to the mantra of frenzy that he heard.
Harder, she would push. Deeper. He thrust his hips as high as he could, throwing her forward, tits swinging past his cheeks. A hand gripped him by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him into her breasts. the other hand guided his mouth over the nipple supporting it briefly while Bandit tongued and nipped at it. Other one, Breasts changed places, and still she forced her hips down to the gathering momentum.
Push. A cry of oh yes. Push again. A sigh with a hitch sounding like pain, but far from it. Deep. He pushed. Deeper, he strained in his blinded tied way. Breathing was ragged, hers, his, theirs, thoughts did not exist. No Moonlight, no candle wax. Deep. Harder Faster.
He rode like the Highway Man. She galloped like the Highway Man and his horse.
Riding, riding, riding up to the old inn door!
Deeper. Momentum like a runaway train. Cries and sighs like the dying. Explosions, behind his eyes, between his legs. Pulsing contractions like her hand squeezing, holding, letting go, repeating. A scream, or cry. His. Hers. Both. Together. Stars.
In the lull that followed, Bandit breathed in her musk. Felt her heart between his legs. His mouth greeted hers, thanked her, tasted her. Asked her to start again.
Sudden light and he saw the candle burning behind his right ear. He saw the shadowed face of the Highway Girl. He saw the finger that reached and softly pressed to his lips.
Bandit was naked. He floated in a static womb again forever and three moments. He felt the all over tickle of the ether and the white noise as it washed against him. He laughed and cried in the same breath, fearful that sleep had claimed him long before. He had dreamed the happy dream of the gods. He had dreamed. And tears rolled anew.
Light stabbed his eyes from above and in front where the monitor did the endless dance of the happy lines. He adjusted his seat and tapped the mouse to clear the lines. On the screen was the same woman in the skimpy 1800's costume of an English Highwayman. Words scrolled beneath the inset screen:
V: My thanks fellow Highwayman!
Just to the side and behind him, Bandit glimpsed the flash of something swing in the light. Suspended from the lightshade above by a black silk scarf swayed an English style riding sword, catching the glint of the moon outside on its blade. Just below the guard the words "My Highwayman" were etched in 1800's cursive. Bandit laughed, maybe he hadn't been asleep, totally...not even virtually.
Sleep claimed him long before. He had dreamed the happy dream of the gods. He had dreamed. And tears rolled anew.