One on One: Attendant of the Insane Asylum

One on One: Attendant of the Insane Asylum

I feel strange looking back at the situation now. I wasn't quite sure where my urge to laugh was coming from. It came from something previous, something before; no, not because of the movie, which should have been the most laughable thing in the world. Joy, something like a physical form of joy. Even though it was hard for me to believe, joy. I could have laughed contentment, pure, delightful, inexplicable contentment. ''I'm just going crazy,'' I thought. ''And with this spontaneous nut, I guess, it's contagious.'' She and I sat there on her abnormally high placed bed as she unzipped her pants and pulled them down to her knees. She has gorgeous hips, I never mentioned it to her, I just figured that would be an extremely obscene thing to compliment her on, or any girl for that matter. She took the index finger of my right hand with her left hand, and started to suck on the tip of it. Pulling and pushing it, in and out, with her warm sweaty hand, massaging it with her tongue. As she started to pulled down her pants to her knees, she got closer to me and breathed in deeply, as if it was her last breath of air. She exhaled and threw down her undies, as soon as they connected back with her monochromatic, blue-wash burn jeans, she forcefully tugged them down to her ankles. She smiled as she slowly relapsed her back onto the bed, and her head reunited, and fastened to the pillow. She let go of my hand as she gestured for a remark on my part, when she stroked her pale, thrillingly beautiful body; till she got to her slit. She proceeded to outline her damp inviting lips; as though to refamiliarize her most sensational asset. She shook uncontrollably as she executed the most known magic trick to her two fingers; the disappearing act. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and eyelids followed in an opposing manner. She moaned, gently and low. The insition she induced on herself provoked a conditioned kind of reflex of her back thrusting into the air, she clatched onto the bed sheets as she smiled and whispered a question, ''Are you enjoying this as much as I am?'' I wanted to say, ''No.'' After all that was what I was thinking. But, instead I grinned joyously and responded, "You are so hot." With an idiotic laughter joined together by a stupefied, continuous head nod. She cried out, "OH G*D.''

I was her muse, I was the only thought in her head at that moment. What a shame. What a waste of a thought. She should be thinking about anything else, anyone else. She clamped onto my hand, passionately as she finished herself off, and pulled me ontop of herself. It is ridiculous that I still have to appear up on stage for an encore, after all it seemed as though she did a wonderful one-person-performance. She seemed inconceivably happy with herself. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, and began to produce a truly artistically, enthusiastic role of a exceptional lover. I made for an excellent pawn to her eager notion to my induced delight and her tortured pleasure.

Fin.