Fusty Musty

We were talking about matters cosmological, the metaphysics of subjective and objective reality as pertaining to communications with the other side. Suddenly I was hit in the chest and thoroughly saturated. To say that I was surprised was an understatement. Even the word shock might be short of the truth. I gasped for breath and wondered what had happened.

Was that laughter I heard, laughing at me? I turned and saw a kid, he must have been all of ten or eleven. He pointed at me and laughed. In his other hand was a wobbly balloon. It suddenly occurred to me that the balloon was wobbly because it was full of water which meant two things; it was a water bomb and I'd been bombed. Not only was my chest cold, but water dripped down my trouser legs most uncomfortably.

"How dare you laugh at my misfortune?" I shouted at the child.

"Just look at my lovely paisley shirt and hound's tooth flares- ruined, absolutely ruined! You should apologize, not laugh!" I had just finished upbraiding him when suddenly he very deliberately took aim and threw the water bomb at me. I was very angry, I wanted to grab him and deliver a few rabbit killer punches to the back of his neck. When Caecillia saw me begin to run she caught my arm and admonished me.

"He's only a boy, leave him alone," she said.

"But look at what he's done to my best clothes!" I responded. Then I had a thought. She had laughed at me too. Suddenly I had doubts about her judgment and set off after the boy. Fortunately he'd stopped to leer at me and though it had been a while since I had run I was certain I would catch him. Caecillia grabbed my arm again.

"For heaven's sake," she said, "Your clothes are only wet, they're not ruined." But I was firm in my resolve.

"Let go of me!" I said as I set off. But Caecillia didn't let go and I heard the tearing of fabric. One only wears one's best for Valentine's Day. I looked down and saw that my good paisley shirt had been ripped, it now hung from me and appeared to be irreparable.

"Look at what you've done," I shouted, "My good paisley shirt, my best shirt, you've ruined it!" Caecillia laughed which was most unfortunate. I held the shreds of my shirt out for her to see and her laughter increased!

"Frank!" she said, trying to find extra lung capacity so she could talk as well as laugh, "that shirt must be more than thirty years old!" and she laughed even more. Then she reached up, took hold of the shirt and pulled. There I was, in no time at all, almost naked. Caecillia continued to laugh as she dropped my perfectly destroyed paisley shirt on the ground. I looked up and there was the skinny little blighter who'd started all of this, he sat on his haunches and laughed.

"I'll get you!" I shouted! I felt a very deep, dark need to catch him and deliver a few solid, rabbit killer punches to the back of his scrawny little neck. I knew all the moves; I hadn't been a peace protestor for nothing. But Caecillia grabbed my singlet. I moved her to the side so I could get to the little demon and not knock her down when I heard a rip. Caecillia didn't let go. She gave my singlet a pull and my shoulders were exposed, another pull and she'd ripped it off me entirely.

"And how old was your singlet, Frank?" she shouted at me and started to laugh again. I had never been naked in public before and certainly I'd never been humiliated for being naked in public before. Most definitely not on Valentine's Day. The little urchin stood there, pointed at me and laughed at my misfortune. I looked at Caecillia and bellowed.

"I must attend to business," and I grasped her by her hips to move her aside so I could get a decent run at the culprit.

"Frank! Stop it Frank!" Caecillia shouted at me. But I had resolved to get him. A few very solid rabbit killer punches to the back of his dirty little neck would teach him a lesson. I started to run but was very slow. I heard a ripping sound and looked behind me. Caecillia's hand held the back of my flares.

I tried to brush her hand away but her hold was firm. I thought that if I really started to run she would have to let go. So, I started to run and the ripping sound was rapid. Somehow, the thread that had once so beautifully held my hound's tooth flares together was now failing and in no time at all I felt very naked. The only part of my flare's seams that held together was at their cuffs. As I ran Caecillia maintained her hold and my trajectory went from vertical to horizontal. I was beginning to think Valentine's Day was ruined.

The little whipper snapper was still there, he lay on the footpath and rolled around laughing. I checked my knees; there was no blood though I knew one had been scrapped. I was most unhappy. This was no way to celebrate Valentine's Day. The little rascal still rolled on the footpath and laughed at me. Caecillia could see my intent to administer justice.

"Perhaps this will stop you!" she shouted at me and I felt her hand grab my Y front underpants, they're so difficult to find now, and she gave one small tug. The little upstart laughed even more. I was now in my shoes and socks and my peace medal hung around my neck. Both Caecillia and the little ragamuffin laughed at me with uncontrollable fits of laughter that wobbled their bellies and made their faces red.

"When did you last shop for clothes, Frank? In nineteen sixty eight?" Caecillia could barely speak, tears rolled down her face and she had trouble standing. She moved around trying to keep her balance. I simply refused to answer. Things had progressed to being beyond my control.

"Fucking hell!" I shouted. My despair must now have been evident.

"No Frank, not hell, me Frank! Didn't we come here for a dirty, Valentine's Day weekend? Wasn't it me you were going to fuck?" I looked at her.

"And what happened, Frank? You couldn't get it up! So, instead you talked until half past three in the morning about the genetic variations of chooks! Now, here we are, in a public place, and you have a huge erection for everyone to see!" I looked down and there was Old Henry. He tilted at the air in all his brobdingnagian majesty. I was beginning to think Valentine's Day was saved.

It became immediately apparent that a change of plan was required. We had to get back to the hotel room urgently. There was only one small problem. In this small ally way I'd been fortunate, only one other person was here, the devilish little miscreant. The curve of the allyway meant that no one could see us from the main street. But, it was necessary that we venture onto the main street where lots of people milled around. There was only one question.

"How?"

It took Caecillia an uncomfortably long time to settle. She quivered like jelly she laughed so much. If only my peace medal were bigger. My hands refused to stretch more so that I could be at all modest. She laughed at me and then gathered some control. She looked at me again and the laughter resumed, bubbling laughter that heaved her chest, wobbled her belly and made her stoop with tears that rolled down her face to collect muddy puddles of makeup. "Stop it," I hissed at her, I was so embarrassed and she laughed more.

"Stop it," I shouted and the laughter grew worse. She dabbed her face with a tissue, mopped off the black stuff that had washed from around her eyes, the blue stuff that had been on her eyelids, the red stuff she had on her lips and cheeks and the pink stuff she had on the rest of her face.

As she wiped it all off I began to see her for the first time. I thought it would be more appropriate if she were naked instead of me. With all that paint gone no-one would recognize her, especially if she took the artificial color out of her hair.

She reached into her handbag and found a little mirror and a tube of lipstick. I watched as she wound the lipstick up. It looked very much like a dog's dick. As she set her mouth in front of the mirror I reached out and grabbed the lipstick.

"You don't need that," I said. She looked bewildered.

"Paint your lips with that and people will push letters into your gob." I threw the lipstick into the gutter. "You look wonderful as you are. I don't want you to look like a Post Office box." There was silence for a while, then she looked down and started to laugh, convulsive laughter that doubled her over and when she straightened she pointed at Old Henry. He still stood proud and tall. He twitched with his ardor. The finger remained pointed as she laughed and between the bubbles of laughter she said.

"So small last night, it's huge now!" She reached and grabbed him in her hand with a firm grip and stroked him a few times. He started to throb. Her hand went to my balls and gave them a squeeze. Old Henry's enthusiastic intent was difficult to ignore, particularly as this was Valentine's Day. It was too much for me. I reached around and gathered up her shirt, pulled it over her head and off her arms. Her breasts were cantilevered up in a bra like produce at a market. I turned her round and, having trouble with the hooks, I pulled. Her bra off in seconds.

"Eek!" She screamed. As she looked around and saw a deeply recessed doorway, she ran to hide. She had trouble running because I'd started to pull her jeans down. She laughed, and hobbled as fast as she could.

The doorway wasn't very clean and looked like it hadn't been used for years. I tipped her over and lay her down. On my knees I was between her legs, she reached for Old Henry and together we aimed him as he thrust. I felt him separate her lips and quickly he was inside. Caecillia pushed her hips up against me and pulled my hips to her. Soon Old Henry was deep inside. The lushness she afforded was beautiful as Old Henry began to massage himself and she gripped to hold him deep inside her.

As I rogered her I could feel her heels drum my back and felt her urge me in deeper. She wailed as I grunted. We could hear the squelch as my hard flesh punctured her softness, my rhythm rapid and purposeful. Caecillia's hand encompassed my balls as though to squeeze out their contents so she could seize it deep inside her. We both gasped for breath, determined with the urgency of our mission.

Too quickly the excitable tissue of the sliding flesh responded and our bodies tensed. There was a moment of trepidation as we waited and suddenly Old Henry started. I screamed, and wondered whether it really was me as the peristalsis projected the fluids through my plumbing.

It was so sensitive, a strange mix of tingling pain and unrequited pleasure, as suddenly my essence burst forth with a spurt so large it jolted me. I nearly fell off Caecillia and had to hold her tight as I heard her scream and felt the flood of more fluid. Her quim was sopping wet, Old Henry was bathed in our fluids as they flooded her and with more lubrication he reveled in even deeper thrusts that milked more spurts from him.

He pushed so hard that our pubic bones crashed into each other and neither of us acted to stop. She scratched me with her bright red fingernails and drew long welts as she rolled her head from side to side and moaned with the deepest pleasure. Her cavern overflowed and the squelches were loud as we continued to thrust into the flood. Old Henry was buried so deep he should have had a periscope and snorkel.

Exhaustion came to take hold of us as our essences ran out. We held each other and tenderly kissed, unable to gather more breath than to say,

"Mmmmm!" and look into the depth of each other's eyes. I proffered the solicitation.

"Happy Valentine's Day," and she kissed me.

Casecillia started to look around and it occurred to me that the little rascal might have watched everything.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"Gone," she said.

"Where?"

"Didn't you hear his mother call him?"

"No!" She giggled and I did too.

Old Henry had shrunk. He teetered on the edge and almost fell out. Our emissions were cold. We rolled onto our sides, kissed and held each other.

As we caught our breaths we looked at our clothes. They lay on the ground in front of us. With some care Caecillia's could be worn again but she had so little in the first place and I was so much bigger there was nothing to share. My clothes were of no use, they were so torn they couldn't keep me modest at all. I lay in the doorway and watched as she ran to get her clothes. As she quickly dressed I looked for something to wear.

I hoped there would be something but there were no old clothes lying around. Caecillia tidied herself. She used Bobby pins to fasten her bra and would have looked respectable if they had been successful.

My options were limited. I could see two cardboard boxes. I rushed out to get them and then retreated into the doorway again. Caecillia read the print on the outside of them.

"Tampons and Dog Food." I folded the tops of them, one big enough that I could put my head through and the other I opened so I could hang it from my waist. I pulled them on and they covered me, just enough. My peace medal was useful as I cut the cardboard to make it fit better. We looked at each other and Caecillia laughed. We waited for a while to gather courage.

It was obvious Caecillia's bra wasn't useful, her opulent breasts refused to stay in the cups and her shirt was very transparent. We both had reason to be quick, though I enjoyed the sight of her statuesque nipples. For some reason I hadn't looked at them before. They were huge, succulent and definitely deserving of later attention. She kept her bra on though and I guess it was of some comfort to her.

We left the doorway and slowly, tentatively approached the main street. With so many people there it was intimidating but we gathered pace and were quickly among them. It's often better to hide in a crowd. We hastened slowly in an attempt to appear casual as we started to walk back to the hotel where we had our room.

It did feel strange wearing cardboard boxes. As we walked the people stopped to stare at us. I could see people look at Caecillia's breasts, which were so beautiful and with their generous nipples and areolas. I couldn't blame anyone for looking, it would have been difficult not to. I could also see and feel people as they looked at me. The cardboard boxes covered all the important bits but I could feel my face flush red with embarrassment. I was lucky Caecillia was so beautiful and so much attention was on her.

It was a Red Sea of people who parted to allow our passage through, I felt truly honored, though the balloon of pride was quickly punctured by the laughs, the sniggers and comments as we left the open mouthed and wide eyed behind.

We pressed on. Our slow promenade had taken us a lot further than we had imagined and now, rather than the pleasant civilities and meandering walk we were enthusiastic about being rapid. It was difficult. We didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. We acted casual, as though this was how we always dressed and hastened slowly- not quite running. Caecillia had trouble knowing where to put her hands. I could see the temptation to cover her breasts but she made the decision to be proud and thrust her chest out like she was a fashion model on a catwalk. I felt guilty that I had need of both boxes and there was none for her. We constantly looked at each other for reassurance and it was wonderful to marvel at the magnificence her breasts as they emerged from under her reconstructed bra which had dropped to hang limply across her stomach. I know the emergence of her breasts wasn't to her liking. The cardboard boxes were surprisingly noisy as they rubbed against each other and the boxes amplified the noise. It was impossible to sneak through the crowd. People turned, stood back to watch us pass and some followed in our wake. The box I wore on top with my head sticking out chaffed at my neck. It was most unpleasant.

We were making progress when suddenly Caecillia stopped.

"Frank," she said, almost in a whisper, her fear quite evident,"There is a spider in the top box." I could only ask.

"Really?"

"A big, black, hairy one, Frank."

"Where?"

"It ran up the back of the box and into the hole your head is poking out of."

"Really?"

"Really, Frank." I thought I felt some thing move across my back. I imagined the feet attached to long hairy legs, attached to the unsavory body of a spider with big, malevolent fangs and I was suddenly all motion. All sense of reason suddenly departed and I tore at the box, shredded it there in the middle of the street and rapidly, it was off. I looked at the debris. There was no big, hairy, black spider. I quickly pirouetted in front of Caecillia, anxious that it wasn't on me. I was sure it was. I could feel it running across my back. I could feel it running up my leg. Worst of all I felt it bite my bum and I ripped at the remaining box to get it off.

What man would tolerate being bitten on the bum by a big, black, hirsute spider! I pirouetted again for Caecillia to check. She couldn't see it as I implored her to be thorough. I looked at the remains of the cardboard boxes. I couldn't see a spider. What I did see though was Old Henry, firmly erect among his accompaniment and I was immediately embarrassed. Naked, in the middle of the main street with so many astonished eyes firmly fixed on me, I had the immediate thought it could be beneficial to leave as soon as possible. I started to run. Caecillia was with me.

"Oof!" I ran into a man. It was most unexpected and he appeared to be very displeased. I quickly said how sorry I was but he wasn't prepared to accept my most humble and abject apology. Another man stood in front of me and prevented my quick exit. It happened so fast. I was quickly confronted by more men and they all looked ready to cause problems with their hands knotted into fists. When one threw a punch I was quick enough to move away. Indeed, I overbalanced and fell to the pavement. I was quick to get up. One doesn't do well in confrontations lying on the pavement.

It didn't take long for a jostling throng to develop behind us. Caecillia was beside me, I could see a look of panic in her eyes as she hugged her arms around her chest trying to cover the opulence of her breasts as best she could.

I could see someone had grabbed Caecillia's shirt and held it to stretch behind her, rather like a Superman cape, though much smaller in its scale. The fabric was taut and somehow I reached out with one hand to rescue the shirt from those other hands. I noticed then that the waist of her jeans was stretched by hands that held it and tried to impede her. I hit those hands away and Caecillia was able to run a few steps before she was caught again.

We were approaching the hotel and it rapidly developed a significance of hope. I hoped we could get there very soon. We turned to get to the hotel steps. I lost sight of Caecillia for a moment but then I saw her naked breasts, with her arms crossed over them, trying to keep them secret. In my peripheral vision I noted the sight of a shirt and a bra being tossed into the air. Matters were becoming serious.

I could see the look of fear on Caecillia's face. This was no way to celebrate Valentine's Day. It's the only time I have ever needed the training I had so arduously received. I quickly adopted the posture for speed and with the lessons learned from the School of King Hit I started. Caecillia was screaming, the hubbub was huge as people surged towards us and I let fly with my right fist flailing in a windmill action which struck the face of my attacker. None were prepared and they tried to step back but the surge of the crowd behind advanced them into the arc of my fist.

Off balance, one after the other fell to tend their bleeding noses. I saw Caecillia fall as some one pushed her. On her hands and knees she crawled through the fallen. I saw her breasts hang and marveled at their magnificence. Eventually she was able to stand behind me and she tugged at my arm to get me away from the battle zone.