The Perseid Showers by Walt_Whitman

It was nearly 2 AM and Lilly was awake and aching. She hadn’t been out of her grandparents’ house in eight days – eight days of monotonous, repetitive, sterile confinement. She had been grounded and the punishment not only fit the crime, it had put an abrupt end to her glorious crime spree. Her grandparents had become increasingly appalled at her blatant sexuality, the seemingly endless procession of different boys and girls who came (often in groups) to take her away in their cars. At first it was only on weekends, but for most of the last year it could be any night of the week. There was no telling how late she would return, but her condition upon arrival was disturbingly predictable: often there was alcohol on her breath, her cloths were disheveled, buttons unbuttoned (or misbuttoned), zippers half open; sometimes her panties, wet and stained, hung from the back pocket of her jeans and always the aura and odor of sex clung to her like the dew of a muggy August morning.

This last time had been too much for them. They had fallen asleep before she returned and didn’t hear her come in. They didn’t see her swaying from the effects of the wine and weed, nor did they see her collapse on to the couch and pull her cum-soaked panties down to her knees and begin to masturbate with feverish urgency. It had been a night of especially spirited debauchery and before she could make it to the security of her room, she had been overcome by the delicious visions of her just-completed defilement. The two boys who had picked her up were joined by an older woman of inspired nastiness who had a thing about Femdom and genital torture and the festivities had quickly degenerated into the kind of depraved athletics that had a special appeal to Lilly. And so she lay sprawled obscenely on her grandparents’ couch, frigging herself madly with first two, then three, then four fingers. Finally as she strained to squeeze her entire hand into her sopping cunt, she let out a piercing shriek of sheer animal lust. Seconds later, she was busted.

Eight days! She had been busy scrubbing the kitchen, cleaning rugs, walls, and floors throughout the old house; gardening and doing yard work – good honest, wholesome labors, directed by her watchful grandmother. And when she wasn’t at work on the chores, she had been reading English literature and practicing on her clarinet. She had been a model citizen; she had been chaste. It was the longest she had been without sex since she losing her virginity two years ago. Now by the time of the summer before her senior year, her appetites required daily attention, daily nourishment; not bland macaroni and cheese or the like, but exotic fare: wine, escargot, oysters, and truffles. True, there were sexual Everests yet to conquer, but already she had steeped herself in, wallowed in, and exalted in perverse sexual excess that few women 3 times her age had dared experience. The fact that few women of any age had her capacity, her hunger, her aching need for wanton sexual exploitation and gratification, promised a life of carnal pleasure, unrestrained by the bonds of Christian probity. She was a slut, a fact that she did not simply accept; she gloried in it. Her tastes had progressively run to the depraved: gangbangs, humiliation, sex in public places, piss, shit, menstrual blood, and pain – exquisite, erotically focused pain – pain concentrated in the nerve endings of her tortured nipples, her pinched and bitten clitoris and her bruised buttocks. God, how she loved to have the juice turned on just before she came!

Eight days! And it had been bad from the very first. Knowing that she couldn’t have it, had cruelly fueled the beast in her panties so that by early evening of the first day she had fled into her bedroom and frigged herself ravenously a half dozen times before sleep finally rescued her. Each night since then The Craving had escalated. She had used everything, her fingers, cucumbers still prickly from the garden, empty wine bottles, even a roll-on deodorant dispenser. She had called her uncle 4 times during her stretch and begged him to come for a visit. Her father’s brother had no doubt been blessed with the same perverse gene that fueled her own ravenous libido. He had found her bloody tampon two days after she started her first period and immediately went to her and explained to her the anti-cramping benefits of a hard cock. A precocious and keenly intelligent lass, she had scoffed at his transparent subterfuge, but within days, was joyfully sucking his cock and gorging on his uncommonly thick and copious cum. Their incestuous relationship blossomed and remained a source of corrupt pleasure for both of them. But alas, her uncle was distracted and happily engaged in fucking his new neighbor’s wife and cuckolding her milquetoast husband. Blood apparently was not thicker than the neighbor’s cum, and poor Lilly was left to her own devices. Finally in desperation one afternoon in the garden, she flashed a beaver shot at their young newsboy who immediately sprang to attention. But cruel fate intervened when her grandmother scurried out the door to take the paper from the boy, give him his weekly fee, and send him on his way.

Day 8 had come to an agonizing end and Day 9 soon would be dawning. The unfed beast had daily upped the ante and now the poor girl was literally about to jump out of her skin from the intensity of her sexual cravings. She no longer cared about the dangers of being caught and having her summer incarceration extended, she cared nothing about dangers of any sort. Her only thoughts were of the pulsating meat between her legs, meat that she would feed to the first carnivore she could find. She ached to be devoured, consumed, cannibalized.

She slid from her bed, tore off her pj’s, pulled on her shorts and a thin cotton blouse, slipped into her sandals, lifted the screen, and let herself down the 4-foot drop to the grass in the back yard. As she scooted across the yard, the dew dampened grass felt cool on her toes in the oppressive humidity of the mid-August Pennsylvania night. It was hot and the musky, faintly randy scent of her grandparents’ compost heap hung in the air. The moist stickiness of the hazy night had coated everything: grass, hanging grape arbors, and willows and it seemed almost to Lilly’s tortured mind that she had slipped from her window into the clinging folds of a cosmic vagina. She smiled to herself at the creatively perverse imagery of her bland little neighborhood’s nocturnal transformation into an oozing sexual organ and thought it a good omen, indeed.

Lilly turned quickly from her yard into the darkened street and headed north with no particular destination in mind. Her ache was great and her need so urgent that she was simply trying to find the nearest sexual being and offer it her feast. She had no doubts that even the most devout of the righteous could not resist the succulent cunt that lay smoldering just beneath the thin material of her shorts. Her wanton sexuality was already legendary in the small town. She was as good as she was insatiable and her unrestrained love for the forbidden and taboo had taken many a young man and women to exotic places that few had ever imagined. Yes, she was the bad, bad girl next door, but she was also strikingly beautiful. Her face was classic Asian beauty; high cheekbones, finely shaped full pink lips, eyes that were perfect hazel almonds and a gorgeous mane of shiny jet black hair that cascaded over her shoulders, down to the small of her back. Her 5’5” frame was slender and lithe; she had long, slim, nicely muscled legs that were melded to her body by a pert alabaster ass. Her waist was tiny, her stomach flat, and her breasts perfect little apples that were peaked by a pair of richly tanned Hershey’s kisses. She was a vision of exquisite femininity; she radiated sensuality and sin.

She walked on for perhaps 20 minutes and found herself walking past the old elementary school, boarded up now and abandoned to rats, pigeons and other vermin. Adjacent to the far end of the school was a forsaken park, mostly overgrown now with weeds and unattended shrubbery. Along the street side of the park was a small parking lot, empty at this late hour and likely to be just as empty the next day.

As Lilly cut across the parking spaces, a movement in the grass just beyond the curb caught her eye. In the dim light thrown by a quarter moon that hung just above the tree tops, she could see the hunched shoulders of a man sitting with his back against the post of an old parking meter. She stopped dead and listened. She could hear rasping, heavy breathing and then a belch, a cough, and spitting. Carefully, she stepped towards him. She could hear him murmuring to himself unintelligibly. He was holding something in his lap – a bottle she finally discerned – a wine bottle. As she stood watching, she caught the smell of male body odor, not the milder version that she occasionally whiffed from her middle class lovers but the full-bodied, rank odor of a man unwashed for weeks. His clothes were filthy and she imagined his breath was foul. “Scum” she thought. And as soon as that thought formed in her mind her clitoris twinged, her cunt began to swell and the first beads of wetness began to seep into her shorts. She had found her carnivore; the raw veal in her shorts was ripe and dripping; she did not hesitate.

Swaying seductively and shivering with lust and anxiety over what she knew she was about to do, she moved slowly towards him like a metal filing shimmying to a magnet. He didn’t notice her at first but when she was nearly on him, her faint moon shadow fell on his downcast face and he slowly raised his eyes to catch a silhouette that he immediately recognized as female. Lilly stepped slightly to his right to let the moonlight illuminate his face. He was perhaps 40 years old, but like all of his kind he looked much older. Like feral dogs, they are reduced to a single monotonous physiognomy by the great leveling effects of the harsh environment that is their home; they are truly brothers, spawn of the same cruel and neglectful parents. His oily very dirty blond hair hung in long gnarled strings that partially draped his face. Through the filthy tangle, Lilly could vaguely make out a deeply lined forehead that sheltered drooping eyelids and alcohol-dimmed eyes, windows to fear and confusion. His mouth was partially opened to aid his labored breathing; his broken teeth were stained and yellow and his lips, though permanently parched from elemental exposure, were now mercifully soothed by a glistening purple film of cheap wine.

His wildness, his foul odor, his patent undesirability and, above all, his filthiness enflamed and frightened Lilly all at once. But instead of snuffing the flames of her lust, the fear that he might be violent or murderously sadistic only fanned them. She took another step towards the seated bum and, was now nearly straddling his drawn up knees. Her advance startled him and he hunched down protectively against the headless parking meter. His eyes were wild and fearful. Lilly fixed him with a steady but soft, almost sleepy, gaze, spread her fingers wide and dragged her hands slowly up the front of her shorts until they reached the hem of her blouse. Her splayed fingers closed gently over the hem and, still gazing at him, she slowly drew her blouse up exposing the soft warm flesh of her flat belly.

His eyes had remained fixed on hers so she nodded her head downward. Following her eyes, he found the fine dark muff of fur that spilled over the top of her waistband short inches below her perfect navel. Illuminated by the soft moonlight, it was a landscape of near perfect femininity – a landscape so totally alien to him, that it took a few seconds for him to absorb it and understand that a sweetly beautiful young woman was in the slow and deliberate process of becoming naked for him.

As she slowly dragged her blouse up her belly and over her ribs, Lilly could feel the warmth spreading out from her cunt in ever widening ripples. When the hem of the blouse reached the swell of her small but perfect breasts, its already slow ascent was momentarily arrested as it caught on the taut points of swollen nipples. A quick jerk and the two perfect chocolate kisses of her puffy areolae were bathed in moonlight. Her eyes had never moved from his face and she was keenly aware that his gaze had followed the path of her blouse up her abdomen and had come to rest on the twin beauties of her round firm breasts. Never in her life had she felt like such a wanton slut; never had she felt so nasty, so in violation of good taste and discretion. And she loved it.

He still had not spoken and though his eyes had widened and fixed on her bare tits, his expression had not changed.

“Would you like some?” She asked softly, the corners of her mouth upturning in the first hint of a smile.

He stared back at her with distrustful, confused eyes.

“Ain’t got no money.“ He said in a thick, unfamiliar accent , clutching his bottle closer to him.

“I don’t want money. I want to know if you like these” She said thrusting her tits forward. ”Would you like them? You can have them. It’s OK. I want to give them to you”

“You ain’t no whore? You ain’t lookin for customers?”

“No, I want to let you play with my tits.”

He set the bottle aside, stood up slowly and took her arm and sat her down on the grass. Then he crouched in front of her and started to rub her breasts awkwardly though her blouse. The feeling was electric. Lilly pulled the blouse back up over her breasts and gasped as she felt his sweaty gnarled fingers closing around her soft warm breasts. He kneaded them roughly – the way she liked, not the way a lot of the boys from her neighborhood. Her sighs quickly turned to moans as he dug his filthy finger nails into her tender areolas. He raised his eyes from her breasts, the distrust and fear now replaced by lust, but just to make sure he asked “You ain’t no whore? I don’t have to give you no money for this?”

“Oh God no!” She gasped “Just take whatever you want from me.”

He got up again and grabbed her firmly by her shoulders and dragged her back from the curb through some bushes and into the overgrowth of the park. Just through the bushes and out of sight of the street, was a small clearing that was strewn with his junk – everything he owned in the world. Most of it looked to be old clothes, much of which was stuffed with other odds and ends into two rusted shopping carts. He let go of Lilly’s shoulder and rummaged through one of the carts and pulled out a soiled old quilt and spread it on the ground in front of her. He sat down on it, pulled Lilly towards him, and laid her down on her back.

He pulled her blouse back up over her tits and yanked her shorts and panties down to her knees. She was breathing hard and her senses were assaulted by the nauseating smells of urine and stale body odor that rose from the foul old quilt. She felt his rough beard on her soft belly and felt the hot wetness of his tongue on her navel. He sucked and licked noisily down her warm belly to her pussy, leaving a swath of thick slobber from her navel to her mons. When he reached the black curly thatch of fur that covered her cunt, he began to the lick and probe hungrily. She was already wet and he could smell the musk of her vagina and was trying desperately to get its taste into his mouth. But because her knees were locked together by the shorts and panties that he had only half-way pulled off of her, she could not open herself to him as she ached to do, but instead was left to shudder as his tongue probed but could not reach the treasures it sought. She could hear him murmuring how nice she smelled and how good she tasted as he tried to snake his tongue into her tethered twat.

The alcoholic fog lifted for a brief moment and the transient realized the barrier that her shorts and panties presented. He abruptly straightened up, tore her panties away, roughly yanked her shorts off, and tossed them aside. Looking down at her gorgeous young body, long dormant primal biology came roaring to full wakefulness: his cock was throbbing and his balls were boiling. He pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head and dropped it, oblivious to its falling over Lilly’s face. He pulled his pants down to his ankles freeing his painfully bent cock and spread her lovely legs wide apart. For the first time, Lilly’s carnivore saw her raw red meat. Eight days of anticipation and abstinence had primed her throbbing tunnel and the rough attentions of the most forbidden and vile creature that had ever defiled her sweet womanhood had stoked her libido to eruptive intensity. Her labia had become obscenely engorged and her cunt lay open for him, revealing a dripping red gash that seemed to be thirsting for his cock.

He knelt between her legs and lifted them on to his shoulders, grasped her hips, and slid his thickly veined cock deep into the sopping crimson of her cunt. He felt soothing warmth envelop him as he lay against her soft, moist flesh. As he breathed in her clean feminine smell, long dormant memories stirred. Soft, warm, and clean were conditions that had long been absent from his life; gone since the war – no, even before that. Memories of the smell and feeling of femininity were more distant yet. As he stroked his cock into the warmth and pressed himself into her tender flesh, he felt her arms go round him and pull his chest tightly against her breasts. He bent his head low and buried his face in her silky black hair and breathed its fragrance. As he rocked in rhythm with Lilly ’s rising crescendo, the memories came flowing back to him through the fog. There was a face – a woman’s – his mother’s – he was a small boy again and she held his sobbing, quaking body tightly to her while she rocked in a slow steady comforting rhythm. She was soft and warm and he felt safe. There was another face – a young girl, his first and only love, who long ago had become irrelevant in his daily battles for existence. She too was warm and soft and he moved with her in the same, but more urgent rhythms. His mind drifted back from one comforting face to the other and for the first time in more than 20 years he felt peace; he felt pleasure; he felt woman.

Lying under the filthy T-shirt, Lilly was completely enveloped by his foul body odor and tingled with anticipation of what she knew was coming. She saw the shadow of his form move between her legs and felt herself being spread wide, the wetness of the night air penetrating into her vagina as her labia were parted. She was about to violated by sheer scum and she ached to feel what she imagined was his spoiled seed spread over the throbbing barrel of her cunt. She felt his weight come down on her. Though thin, he was big – six feet at least- and he completely covered her. Pressed tightly against her and naked, he smelled even more evil than his clothes. As he moved over her, she breathed the unmistakable smell of sweaty, unwashed asshole. The stench almost choked her with its foulness, but like everything else in this intensely filthy space, it heightened the pleasure of her defilement. As she felt him enter her, the realization that this beast was inside her, sent her over the edge; she arched her back, stiffened for an instant, and then Lilly fired her jets.

She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and reached around his back, crushing her nipples into his chest. He had buried his head in her hair on her right shoulder and she could feel his hot wet breath on her ear which was rapidly becoming soaked from his drool. His breath, rank with the odor of bad teeth and cheap wine, was trapped on her face by the shroud of his t-shirt and her own matted hair. The sweaty weight of him as he pounded her gaping and exposed cunt, the rasping of his spittle-laden breath in her ear, the intermingled scents of unwashed sweat and asshole, urine, and wino breath enveloped her and filled her with a delicious sense of unholy defilement. She welcomed the filth and the degradation and, as she felt her lust growing out of control, Lilly teetered for a second on the edge of indecision. Should she abandon herself completely to the bestial urges that vied for control of the last vestiges of decency in her soul? Should she let go? Should she give herself up to this foul, drooling savage in this pit of filth?

“Yeah!” She moaned under the T-shirt, “YEEAAAAAAH!”

She lowered her legs , wrapping them tightly around the backs of his thighs just above his knees and stretched her arms downward to grab his humping ass cheeks. She dug her nails into his flesh and clawed her way into the greasy crack of his ass. Held tightly in her grasp, he was nearly immobilized. Pulling hard on his ass, Lilly began to jackhammer her cunt up and down the hard shaft of his cock. As the speed and urgency of her thrusts increased, her vaginal secretions boiled out her, and began to drip from his cum-swollen balls. The wetness made an obscene sucking sound as her belly beat against him with each of her thrusts. Her own powerful musk now mingled with the perverse potpourri of vile scents that ran into her nostrils like gutter water draining into a street grate. Her moans became wails and shrieks of lustful derangement. Her hips were now a blur, greasing his pole with rapid, violent piston-like strokes. Her fingers dug into either side of his ass crack, tugging imploringly, as if urging him to give her all that he had. As she felt him cum, she imagined her cunt filling with hot jets of curdled semen and felt it oozing out of her with each upward thrust of her hips. All of her senses: sight, touch, taste, smell, and hearing were bathed in a lascivious brew of defilement. She felt herself descending into a churning cauldron of filth. “Jesus Christ!” she screamed as she felt the swelling waves begin to break, “Jesus Fucking Christ!”

He did not see the soiled shirt that lay across Lilly ’s face; he saw the soft features of his mother and his long-lost love and through the warmth of Lilly ’s embrace and in her softness and clean feminine fragrance, felt the peace and comfort that women give to boys and men. He saw in their soft loving faces what he had long ago sacrificed for the hard cruel life of booze and the streets. But the soothing warmth and peace he felt were transient, ephemeral pleasures; Lilly ’s relentless sexuality would not let the long dormant beast of his male lust rest any longer. The rising heat in his crotch stirred more primal hungers and warmth and peace surrendered to lust. His lost love’s sweet smile morphed into the open mouthed panting of the Fayetteville whores who had taken his money and his cum with equal enthusiasm. His mother too now moaned obscenely and begged him for his cock. He felt her wrap her legs tightly around his thighs and passionately claw his naked ass cheeks. With every nerve in his body, he ached to empty his balls into his mewling mother and his long-lost love and to drag them with him back into the maelstrom of lust and wickedness of the Fayetteville whorehouses.

The two women’s cunts – his envisioned mother’s and Lilly’s – worked rapidly and mercilessly on the shaft of his throbbing cock and drew from him twenty years of pent up jism that he released in wave after agonizing wave of thick cum. He filled Lilly to overflowing and still she didn’t relent. It spilled out of her pistoning snatch and ran between their bellies, mixing with her cunt juice and amplifying the suction between them. He gripped her shoulders and, as he looked into her lust filled eyes, he heard his mother scream back at him “Jesus Christ! Jesus Fucking Christ!” while she arched her back upwards and pulled her legs downwards as if trying to thrust her spasming cunt through his spine. Collapsing against her, he closed his eyes and shuddered with her as they waited for the tide to go out.

After a few minutes, he rolled off her and lay beside her on his back. Lilly pulled his dirty t-shirt from her face and breathed in the heavy night air , now laden with the scent of sex and filth. She gazed into the starry sky and let the almost druglike contentment of her hard orgasm continue to subside. She could feel his massive cum shot leaking from her still engorged pussy and reached her hand down and rubbed it into her furry mons and distended clit, in slow sticky circles. They lay there in silence for ten languid minutes before he slowly raised himself up and kicked off his shoes and his pants which had been bunched at his ankles and began to pace aimlessly around the small clearing as the confused, intermingled visions of three women contested for his attention and credit for the night’s pleasures. He picked up his wine bottle and took a few long drinks and then resumed his nervous pacing. Lilly sat up to get a better look at what he was doing and noticed his cock had become semi-erect. Thick globs of half-congealed cum clung to it and were tangled in his pubic hair. Just as she was beginning to feel the first pangs of fresh arousal from this new vision of perverse sexuality, the derelict turned and walked toward her until he was standing over her.

“Open your mouth”

Lilly looked at the greasy mess of bum cum, pussy juice, and grime that stood before her. His sweat had run down his chest in thin rivulets carrying with it the ground in filth that covered his unwashed body and left little tracts of white, semi-clean flesh in their wake. It collected in his pubic hair which was now a sticky stew of musk and cum and sweaty muck. The smell and sight were so overpowering that Lilly hesitated involuntarily for a moment. But the pounding of her heart and the surge of desire at the impending humiliation and continued degeneracy carried her through.

“Suck me! Clean me!” he croaked and she opened her mouth and leaned forward to receive what she now wanted more than she had ever wanted any of her grandmother’s steaming pies. She kept her mouth open just wide enough for the limp but swollen cock to fit between her lips. To Lilly’s delight she noticed for the first time that he was not circumcised. Taking his still flaccid cock in her hand, she gently pulled back the foreskin to liberate his glistening purple cockshead, coated with a thick putrid film of snot-like slime. Gobs of fetid cock-cheese encrusted the fleshy flared head of his cock and the underside of his foreskin. She sucked it hungrily, swallowing the globs of cheese, cock snot and cum– his and hers – savoring the fetid, salty sourness. She placed her hands on his hips to steady him and then began to rock her head back and forth slowly and seductively along the length of his growing cock.

Lilly sensed that there was still more cum in his swollen balls and she thirsted for it. She raised her eyes and caught his alcohol-dulled gaze and determined to bring him out of his stupor to feel the intensity of the pleasure she was giving him. She ached to wake his lust and incite him to further defilement. Still gazing into his eyes, she began to message and squeeze his sweaty balls. His eyes widened and she let her front teeth begin to graze the head of his cock on her upstrokes. He shuddered and she twisted his balls ever so slightly and she felt his cock surge in length and girth, filling her mouth and nearly choking her.

Now she had his full attention. He grabbed her roughly by the hair and began trusting savagely into her throat. Still squeezing and twisting his balls, she reached her free hand behind them and slipped two fingers into his filthy asshole and sought the place she knew would make him explode. With practiced knowledge beyond her years, she found the walnut-sized swelling of the bum’s prostate and messaged it relentlessly. She knew it was coming; she could feel it building at the base of his cock before he did. At the instant before he released, she twisted his balls violently while thrusting her fingers hard into his asshole. Lilly pulled her head back slightly so that the head of his cock was pressed between her tongue and upper teeth. Hot jets of cum bathed her tongue and pallet and dripped slowly down her throat. As the bum spasmed into her mouth, he nearly lost his footing. He leaned into her and braced himself on her shoulders while his shudders subsided into little quivers.

As she felt him relaxing and shrinking, Lilly slowly finished the job of cleaning him. She held his cock in her hands and licked it up, down, and around; she sucked the last globs of cum from his pubic hair and then slowly and carefully licked his balls clean. When she finished, his legs finally gave way and he collapsed and lay flat beside her. As Lilly looked down at him, she could see the fog rolling back in. He held his flaccid cock almost absentmindedly and began to rub it against the side of her thigh. She looked about her and saw her torn panties laying under one of his feet and her shorts within reach on the edge of the quilt. She pulled her shorts back on and as she began to rise, she felt his hand tugging at her.

“Don’t go. Please. You’re so pretty, you smell so nice. Please don’t go. Stay!”

“No I HAVE to go! Let go!”

She brushed his hand away, got to her feet, stepped over him and through the shrubbery and was quickly in the street, hurrying past the old school building and heading south back to her grandparents’ house. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, the ache was gone. She felt soiled, used, and defiled – just the way she liked to feel sexually. She smiled to herself. Even she couldn’t believe what she had just done. It was foolish, reckless, dangerous, but mostly it was utterly perverse and profane. And that was what, above all else, she craved from sex.

It wasn’t until she was back in the close quarters of her bedroom that she realized that his smell was still with her. She was drenched in it – she reeked. She carefully opened the door and could hear the loud humming of the fan in her grandparents’ bedroom. As usual, they were dead asleep and would hear nothing. She tiptoed down the hall and into her bathroom. She stripped off her blouse and shorts, stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain closed behind her. She started to reach for the faucets, but as she bent forward she caught sight of a strand of cum hanging from her cunt and stopped. She reached her index finger down between her legs and caught it like a thread of melted cheese dangling from a warm triangle of pizza. She raised it to her open lips, caught it on her tongue, and carefully drew it into her mouth where she savored it while it slowly dissolved into her saliva and slipped down her throat. The taste triggered the familiar, insistent, stirring between her legs and she sank slowly into the tub. Leaning back against the rear of the tub, she spread her legs out, resting her feet on either side of the drain. She stroked her clitoris in soft concentric circles, every once in a while, dipping the index finger of her other hand into her oozing snatch to snare another dollop of cum which she rubbed into her nipples and belly.

As she came hard for the second time in an hour, she let out a low moan and breathed a long melodious sigh. In a drowsy state of satiation, Lilly reached forward, turned on the faucets, and pushed the plunger that started the shower. The warm water rained down on her and little brown streams of dirt and grime and sweat began their meandering their way into the tub where they merged and flowed to the drain, forming a whirlpool that sucked the sordid evidence of the night’s forbidden lust down into the depths of the city’s sewer system. As she stared sleepily into the cleansing downpour, Lilly noticed that the small remaining reservoir of cum from her homeless ravager was leaking from her pussy into the tub and being carried away with the dirt and grime. She smiled wistfully as she watched one of the whitish globs float away and spin in ever tightening circles around the tub drain. By the time it vanished into the vortex, Lilly was blissfully asleep.

A mile and a half away, the derelict veteran lay back against the headless parking meter, the now-empty wine bottle tucked between his legs. He was slumped forward, the memories of the night’s pleasures already eroding under the steady beat of the waves of alcohol that nightly washed away the good and the bad. The one night of pleasure out of the many thousands of nights of relentlessly unforgiving harshness was being taken from him before it could be recalled even once to blunt the sting of any of the countless nights of anonymous, wretched misery that were sure to come. The torn, sweetly feminine panties that had been unwittingly enfolded into the quilt and stuffed back into a shopping cart would be the only inexplicable trace of this strange and wonderful night’s respite from cold and inhuman suffering, loneliness, and hopelessness. And as he drifted off into the fog, no one asked him if the trade of this night’s passionate memories for the numbing sanctuary of the bottle was a fair one. No one asked and no one answered.

The preacher stood on his porch a few blocks from the defunct park and stared intently into the early morning starlight. He had already seen a few faint streaks, but they had died almost as quickly as they had appeared. Now, as he studied the twinkling vastness, two glowing pinpoints appeared suddenly and simultaneously at 9 and at 3 o’clock in the celestial vault. As they fell, trailing twin tails of sparks, their trajectories clearly set them on a path of intersection. The preacher watched, transfixed. The intensity of each falling orb seemed to increase as they approached one another, until at the instant of impact (or did they simply cross paths, one passing just behind the other?) their lights merged and seemed to explode with a brilliance many times what either had been before. The flare lit up the night sky for an instant, but died quickly as the two projectiles, their energy now spent, hurtled away from each other in opposite directions, into the empty blackness of space.

The preacher was unprepared for the sudden, dazzling display. He marveled that what most would consider space garbage, celestial flotsam and jetsam, had just shamed the stars with their brilliance and beauty. That it had occurred at a time of day when few could see or appreciate it seemed to him somehow appropriate and he felt privileged to have witnessed it. That there could be any other significance to the event did not occur to him then, nor in the next Sunday’s sermon when he would use it as a metaphor for the Creator’s subtle artistry in even the simplest and humblest of His creations.