Horror monologue. Warning adult sexual content
I took another handful of fibers, and pushed my way up through this wall. Dark, warm, moist this twilight world. Sure seems hot and cramped in this zone!; How did I get here?, You ask. Well it’s a simple story.
I met her in that bar near the World War II bunker, green eyes, body to dribble over, red haired and heavy breasted and I’m just a man, my brain’s in my pants!
We talked for hours, seemed to touch, to connect. I can’t explain it, she just seemed to read my mind. She was in the bar, but I’d never seen her before, despite her claim of being a regular. We’d sat down in the corner, background music, that orange lighting so common in this joint, the table sticky from drink, the busy world blurred passed us as we flirted, listened, eyes flitting from face to chest to leg to hair, scanning her, wanting her. She looked at me as if she wanted to drink my soul, to taste the flesh. God she was hot, long haired, and ready. I drank another whisky, Dutch courage, sank deeper into the sofa. She had other ideas and grabbed my wrist, pulled me up. “Let’s go back to my place” She‘d whispered softly, sexually, in my ears. Her hot, full lips brushed my ear; she even nibbled it as she said those words.
By now I was hot. I wanted her. I wanted to do stuff with her that you don’t write about! We’d almost run back to her place, stopping only at the pharmacy for condoms. I could see her nipples now, hard, round, firm. There was no mistaking that night, after months of loneliness, I’d found a woman who was funny, interesting and hot. I was going to get some action, I hoped I wouldn’t disappoint. She wanted me! Gosh.
I was a bit flustered, so slowly we started, a drink before, and then upstairs. No hurriedly flinging clothes everywhere, we still talked, caressing each other, slowly. By now I was throbbing in my pants, holy smokes!
She’d asked for that thing that certain girls love so much, and I went down, between her thighs, and gave her pleasure. She was going crazy, and then, I fell.
Looking back now, it must have been that last drink, or a trap in the bed or the floor. I must have passed out, as I woke up here, on this sheer wall, with only these fibers to grasp as I push up through this huge warm carpet-like surface. There doesn’t seem to be any floor, nor any ceiling, but it sure is warm in this place.
The world seems strange, as I look at my claws, and find a place to suckle the blood from the surface of the wall.
Looks like that witch turned you into a pubic louse too!