Fun House, Wherehouse, Their House / The New Barbarians

November 1

Of all my nineteen years, last night was the strangest Halloween ever. As my brain reels from memories lost, repressed, or other. Only one question roils through my brain:

How did I end up in Spain when all I really wanted was to be in Tami?

 Tami finally said yes and we went to a concert last night. Sure it was with her two friends Jo Jo and Maryann and there two friends, Ralph and Joe. But after a whole summer of leering at her tiny little frame as she would pass through the warehouse where I worked, her delivering papers to the shop from the front office where she worked finally paid off.

She had to be the smallest, yet perfectly femininely proportioned, woman I had ever seen. Frizzy shoulder length hair, two perfectly firm and round breasts just right for her frame, and the roundest, smallest keyster I had ever viewed, often clad in tight jeans with a large star detail etched in denim on each buttock. Oh, the possibilities I imagined as she would swish through the warehouse en-route to Annie's office.

We had taken my huge Pontiac Bonneville so we all could go to the Cow Palace to see the New Barbarians. We had some apple wine. Tami being twenty one had bought, I and others had brought the dope and we had rocked out with Uncle Keith. Of course he was on stage, we were not.

I had dropped everyone at home and driven Tami back to work so she could pick up her car. She had keys and said she had to get something inside and wanted me to come in. Something about Halloween and all and then things just broke weird and foggy.

There was a flickering light coming from the shop. Candles were laid out on the big production table, lighting only the table and leaving the rest of the shop and it's machines in murky shadows. 

The usually distant and standoffish Tami took my hand and using stools as stairs we climbed to the center of the candle ringed table. She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck, puller herself up on her tip toes and kissed me as I had longed for her kiss these many months. I was lost. Up was down, right was left, and there was rustling in the shadows and I did not care.

Tami was naked, on her back, legs spread, arms reaching up toward me, beckoning me to mount her. As I fell towards her I perceived it as falling up. As my hands found the svelte Tami I perceived mounds and ripples of flesh. Huge encasing thighs and I was immersed in a mountain of flesh.

But it was all so soft, warm wet and inviting I entered deeper than I have ever gone before. Deeper than my dear tiny Tami could have endured on first thrust.

Because below me now I saw the thick lipped, heavily jowled  fleshly framed and many chinned Ms. Spain. Office manger, largest and sweetest woman I had ever seen. Called me her Pumpkin when ever I delivered things to her office. I was pumping in her now, her hands guiding me as I merrily bounced upon her abundance. I was loving it. All of her. The scent of her was sending me to raptures I had ever known. Her voluminous flesh fold delighted me to oblivion. 

I was hearing other things though. Moans from the murky shadow. Catching fleeting glimpses off cowled and robed forms in various stages of disarray and undress,

When I awoke, here, alone in my bed, my hips were still thrusting and grinding to the sounds of Spain's siren song.

I must work through and remember. It is just flashes. I must piece what transpired for my own sanity.

But now. 

Sleep