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Now she slithers in like an alien sex goddess, gliding across the room, and I follow in her shadowy wake like a cat’s tail, twitching in a flourescent alley, all alert, all attention, awareness… focus, sex starved again, dying again and again to feel her hard, wirey body grinding away, all portals to Heaven and Hell wide open as I put my dick deep inside and die again and again.There’s no more time for dialogue.Now its an emergency. Fuck fuck fuck!!!Now I can taste and smell and feel her crack tainted sweat lingering around me like a graveyard fog, swallowing up my hostage soul again.I wait for brief relief again as she dances, slinky and alive like a firey crazed lizard, tormenting every cell of me… Again.And now she’s got that good old manic style acid flashback psychedelic groove going again, dancing, balancing, juggling, shape-shifting like a wild formless energy channel, an otherworldy cosmic wormhole, a hypnotic occult source…And it’s amazing, splendid, terrifying to watch her moving like a thunder storm, earthquake, tsunami, a hurtling comet, an alien spacecraft coming down down down on my tranced out sleepy, sleep-deprived head again and again now…Yeh, baby!

There’s nothing more erotic and compelling I know of than watching Narcisa gyrating, grinding, shaking, morphing, seducing herself, turning herself on as she dances before the mirror. My dick’s so hard now it wants to fly off like a rocket into outer space with her again again again.This is what I fucking live for and die for today.Narcisa.Time goes by like an endless reel of surreal, paranormal, multi-dimensional bughouse imagery…She’s been up smoking the rock for two days again now and yeh, she’s finally hit it again, that paranormal free-fall time-warp looney tunes anything-goes zone that she lives and dies for too…And now she’s weaving those invisible patterns of sacred geometry again, conjuring up crop circles out of pure empty space again, carving those invisible inter-dimensional portals into our third eye vision again, her hard, boyish ass tattooing imprints of apocolypse poetry with an invisible tool of profane animal lust into the secret codes of my soul’s perpetually confounded hard drive memory…And I wait here like a lurking jungle predator for her to finally wind down off the chemical fueled suicide mission that keeps her traversing the sky forever… Waiting for her to take the inevitable kamakazi dive into my arms with the inevitable husky rasp language shreading my audio-perception as she breathes that crack demon wind into my hungry mouth. Again…”Fuck fuck fuck. Smoke smoke smoke…”Our own secret code for the endless moment we’ve been living for from the very start of this crazed, addictive death dance.And here it comes again… Sacred union. Dick and pussy molded together again into one holy rolling unstoppable infernal mechanism of infinate momentum, insatiable, tragic, perfect Want, lust, passion, sensory overload, trance trance trance magic…But I can’t get near her yet as she lusts after her own unattainable image in in the mirror I bought her today, after she broke the last one in some deadly tussle with God knows what the fuck she let in….And now she’s dancing in the mirror again, exciting her inscrutable primitive narcissist’s libido, gyrating wild and crucial and free…Narcisa.

She gets herself so excited by her own dancing image and I get so excited too, as always, drowning in a swirling sea of bottomless lust, watching her lusting after the impossibility of herself.Narcisa.And suddenly she is on fire again now, and my dick is stiff in my pants and it hurts hurts hurts, oh God, this is the ultimate definition of Want.I slide up behind her and grind it hard into that ever-compelling infinate space between her pounding winding grinding gyrating hard butt cheeks… and she plays with my lust. Just like some sleek, beautiful, deadly cat taunting a mouse, finally pushing off me again with her elbows, like a high diver taking a bold plunge off into outer space in the endless depths of her own acid eyes in the mirror of Narcisa Narcisa Narcisa forever now.E agora? What now?I’m held a willing hostage in this crazy shining holy force field of Narcisa, waiting for death or redemption, lost lost lost in the fathomless sea of hunger and lust and insatiable, endless Want…E agora?What now? Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008. All Rights Reserved.NOTIFIÇAO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção - registrados na Biblioteca Nacional como ficção com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor, Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são interamente ficticios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência.