High-Rise Notebook

The recall of former pasts only lasts a few minutes. When the slithers first started I would think they were dreams. Then I would notice things changed while I was away before I no longer noticed. That was when the notebooks began. I started leaving paper and pencil by the bed when I was having sex. It became clear I only slithered away momentarily after I came. But while away time ran for longer durations, depending apparently on frequency and quality of sex. Away times could be very long indeed. But my returns to what was presently passing for now took turns of unsettling nature. That is until the rubber band of time caught up and the slithers became memories that had always been there. Time critical recollection was key. 

I would return sometimes to Judy's condo with her. Sometimes to my in-law apartment dormer with her. Sometimes in my high rise apartment with her. Worst in my furnished one room apartment, with her. Always with her. Always my notebook was still there. But not always from where I had left. Other than still being nestled inside Judy's still wet and warm aura from our entwined burning lust. 

She could never tell if I had slithered except for when I leapt for the notebook to frantically write before the rubber band of memory snapped into me making all thing just memory. At least until next I slither. 

Judy once asked while peeking over my shoulder to see what I was writing, "Where did you go?" 

"Why inside you my dear. I left numerous parts of myself swimming about happily." I quipped. 

"What a hopeless and pointless trip they are taking." 

"Well, it's all about the journey. The destination is besides the point." I said as she pulled me back into our bed, this time apparently my slither left me planted in my glass walled high rise 25th floor apartment in downtown Chicago. The memory of slithering away from my dormer apartment meant this slither had placed me in this string before it all was natural and right as it had always been. 

"A joyous trip each and every time." Said I. 

Judy looked magnificent in the early morning light. The sun rising over Lake Michigan gave her light blonde hair a halo glow and gossamer shimmer. This timeline was one of affluence. Things had gone well financially. Judy was partially cover by expensive sleepwear finery. Her uncovered parts were glorious. I felt her breasts trace their way down my stomach riding gracefully on her erect nipples. Her mouth slowly taking me in with a brief tongue swirling  flourish. 

Fortunately affluence still had not robbed me of Judy's favorite morning ritual. Apparently a sort of way about her that allowed her to pleasure herself while pleasuring her man, and occasional woman, with a feverish grinding of her nether region on her object de felate's leg while giving the most spectacular head I have ever received. Her blonde hair tickling my stomach as her mouth gave oral pleasure for the ages. 

As Judy was a swift serial orgasmer demanding quick delivery I was often conflicted between coming too soon and coming too late. The ladies deliver option du jour was to release my cock from her manipulating maw and stroke me to testicle tearing climax all over her glorious tits. 

"I like when you come back from a slither and are able to deliver such a load only minutes after your last offering." She daintily licked my remaining offerings of her finely manicured nails. 

By now memories of my travel were non existent. 

As I had stated previously most often I would return to Judy.  

Until I didn't.  

That fact made this last slither of mine rank utmost in importance and significance only surpassed by the fact it put my next in jeopardy as well as into question of ever occurring.