Solar Flame

CHAPTER ONE – AN EVENING AT SEAMUS

"All of the thrusting is in the inner solar system, then it coasts." –– Les Johnson

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Shaqar stared out of her office window at the overcrowded city below. This was the time of day when it was pretty. The glow of the city lights obliterated all the stars in the night sky, and she could imagine the blinking reds, blues and greens below her were the evening sky.

The parkway to her left still gave some hint of nature with its halo patches of green highlighted along the walkways. She smiled at the occasional jogger or couple in love passed briefly in its glow. She sighed and turned her chair back around to her desk.

She focused on the papers in front of her briefly, sighed again, hesitated briefly, then opened the lower left hand drawer to remove a black box with gold trim. She lifted its lid and removed its crystalline contents, then glanced back to the drawer, her eyes searching for a small bottle containing a clear liquid. She squeezed several drops onto her fingertips, then reached beneath her short, pin-striped business skirt, past her curling hair and began lubricating her slit the length of her cunt.

A few more drops on her fingers and she sat the bottle down on the desk. This time she applied the liquid to her glass dildo, held her cunt lips open and slowly slid the rod into her cunt.

It was cool from the office air conditioning, causing her to jump slightly at first, but after several slow strokes, she was enjoying the sensation of coolness in her hot pussy. Slow even strokes disappearing between her thighs, almost engulfing the length of the crystalline rod in her hairy cunt. Her eyes were closed and...

She heard the handle to her office click. She quickly tossed the bottle into the drawer, but held the dildo in her cunt, full to the hilt. With her other hand she picked up her pen and feigned writing.

It was Dolkar her assistant.

"I've done about all I can do this evening. I'm heading to Seamus'. Wanna go?"

"Thanks, no. I've some unfinished business that has to be done. Rain check?"

"You sure? You really need to learn to relax more. See ya tomorrow."

"Thanks. I'm working on it," she smiled.

As he was walking out the door, she laughed quietly to herself and continued the task at hand, building to a frenzied finish, she thrust the rod into her cunt repeatedly, while flicking her clit with her fingertips. The intensity of her "work out" grew until she shuddered, clasping and unclasping the glass between her hair covered lips.

She took a few steps to her private washroom, where she rinsed her crystalline friend, dried him off and placed him back in the black box to be returned to her desk drawer.

She checked herself in the mirror. "Perhaps Dolkar is still at the bar," she thought. She picked up her purse and gave one more glance to the paperwork on her desk. She sighed then stepped to the door. She smiled to herself. The space between her thighs still felt tingly.

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The room was tinted with blue and red hues of neon glow. It would take a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmed light, but she instinctively looked towards the far corner. She could barely make out Dolkar's animated figure waving her towards the table.

Before she reached the darkened corner, he had already caught a waitress' by the arm to order her drink, a double Glenlivet on the rocks.

"Hacksawed the chains from the desk?" he asked leaning over to be heard over the pulse of Flogging Molly's "Requiem for a Dying Song".

She nodded, smiling, "Something like that. Something that I just had to get in before I left."

"Glad you escaped. Your drink is on the way."

Seamus was a small tavern on the same corner as her office. It usually blasted the Wicked Tinkers or Dropkick Murphys for the evening crowd, but there was live music on weekends where anyone with a voice or an instrument could join in the high energy fray.

The waitress sat a coaster and her Scotch on the table.

"My tab," said Dolkar, "she's had a hard day."

The waitress nodded and glided towards another table. There was a pause in the music so Shaqar did not need to shout.

"Thank you. Next round's on me," she said, and she began to survey the room to see who the patrons were this evening. There were, of course, all the Seamus regulars scattered about, but there were a few new faces as well, mostly sitting quietly at the bar. One in particular, glanced her way and raised his glass before returning to face the bar.

She sniffed the perfume of the Glenlivet before taking the first sip. She simply loved the odor of a single malt Scotch as much as she loved its taste.

"Excuse me," Dolkar said. "I've got to go get rid of those first two beers."

Shaqar leaned back in her chair, took a larger drink of her Scotch, and focused on the stranger at the bar. He seemed frozen in place on the barstool. She concentrated on the base of his skull and whispered in a voice inaudible above the jukebox's booming bass,

"Talik con smadj."

The stranger jerked slightly, then sat down his drink and walked out of the bar, and down the street. With only her eyes, Shaqar glance about the room, but saw no one stir. She smiled. And she felt tingly again.

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CHAPTER 2 – JOGGING MEMORIES

"The solar system is not a stable and quiet place." –– Jack Lissauer

The noise from the street below woke Shaqar. That and the way-too-bright sunlight piercing her bedroom windows. She lay for several minutes looking at but not seeing the pattern in the canopy above her bed.

Finally, a waft of the smell of coffee drifted across her bed. "Thank God for automatic coffee makers!" she thought, and she felt for the floor with one leg, tossed the covers and swung around seated on the bed.

Then she remembered the stranger from Seamus, and she smiled. She closed her eyes and replayed the night in her head, her smile stretching wider. She stepped to the bathroom and relieved herself of the evenings double Scotch, then returned to the bed and sat down. Reaching into the drawer of the bedside table she found a small sandalwood box and opened it, removing two chromed ben-wa balls and fell backward onto the bed.

The cold metal felt good against her lips, but felt even better when the ball popped past her inner lips. She lay for a moment enjoying the fullness in her pussy, gave her hood a few long slow rubs, then sat up and headed to her coffee machine. She filled her mug, and watched the steam vapors trail up and vanish. Then she smiled again.

She stepped to her window, the warm cup held to her breast and surveyed the bustling city below her. It was much uglier during the day, but pulsing with the energy that a large city generates. Today was going to be good. The sun felt good against her bare skin.

She finished her coffee, rinsed the cup and then slipped into her jogging shorts and her favorite old sweatshirt. She quickly laced her shoes, grabbed her apartment key and her iPod, and headed to the elevator. Leaning back against the faux-paneled wall, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the drone of the elevator as it edged to the first floor. All the while she was working the balls with her pussy.

At the apartment entrance, she glanced right, then turned left to begin her jog to the parkway. The tingly feeling was returning quickly with each step which was causing her smile to return as well. She made a point of acknowledging each passerby with a big, friendly, un-big-city-like grin. They, of course, had no knowledge as to the reason for her being so happy. Soon the parkway loomed ahead.

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MacCready Parkway was a section of land in the center of the sprawling metropolis donated by 19th century industrialist Angus MacCready. It was that one oasis in an overpopulated city that enabled one to become human again... the one place that actually pumped ozone into the air instead of sucking it out. It was Shaqar's favorite place to be, and she was there whenever there was any excuse at all for being there. Morning jogs were one of her favorite times, when the air was charged with ions, and the dew was being exhaled by all the vegetation that made the Parkway what it was.

She was one of several joggers this morning, all attempting to pack their brains with endorphins in order to face another day in the city. And there were the cyclists, the strolling couples and elderly walkers, dog walkers, drumming groups smoking their herb... it was full of life. That made her smile, even without the ben-wa balls.

Early fall leaves scurried on the walk before her like so many mice running about. It was that time of year when their splash of reds and golds exploded upon the still green grass that blanketed the open areas of the Parkway. She would do her ritual 2 miles, and then walk back to her apartment to shower and get ready for the day's battles.

Up ahead, where she would be passing one large boulder at the path's edge, she noticed a male jogger stretching to ready himself for his morning run. She was drawn to his aura, seemingly glowing bright in the sunlit break of shadows that flowed upon the boulder.

As she was passing, he looked up briefly, and she could see his pale, sky blue eyes. He smiled, and returned to his stretching ritual. She returned his smile, and after passing the boulder, glanced back over her shoulder.

"Talik con smadj," she whispered, and she saw him pause his stretching routine, rise slowly and begin walking out of the Parkway in the direction of her apartment. She smiled and finished her distance.

She found a vendor cart that had water and bought a large bottle. She took a large drink then poured a bit on her already wet hair, and began her walk briskly back to the apartment. As she approached the entrance, she could see the jogger sitting on the stoop. She approached him slowly, and then stopped, handing him the water to finish off. He blinked his blue eyes, smiled and took the half empty bottle and emptied it.

Together they quietly strode to the elevator, and rode up to her apartment. There were no words spoken, but as she stared at him, she was managing to rotate her ben-wa balls slowly inside her cunt, and sending her thoughts his direction. He, however, only smiled and watched the elevator indicator dance towards the number of her floor. It would soon be his happiest moment... and his last.

Shaqar unlocked the door, and gestured to the sofa. The jogger sat down and Shaqar took the empty bottle and walked towards her bedroom.

"Give me a moment," she said at the doorway. "I'll be right back. There are drinks in the fridge. Feel free."

She sat on the bed, removed the ben-wa balls and walked to her shower. She quickly stripped and showered, washing the balls as well in the process. Draping a towel around her, she stepped to the side table and replaced the balls in the sandalwood box. Upon closing the drawer, she turned and made her way back to the living room sofa, where the jogger was just finishing another bottle of water. Smiling, she strolled slowly to the sofa, and held out her hand, the jogger handed her the bottle which she immediately placed on the coffee table. Shaqua edged towards the sofa and was soon looking down at his sky blue eyes from between her breasts.

Gently, she held his head in her hands and pressed her hips forward. Her towel-covered pussy was directly at his eye level now. She straddled his knees and pressed his face towards her hips. Finally, holding the back of his head with one hand, she lifted the towel above her hair covered cunt, and pressed her hair to his lips.

"Talik con smadj," she whispered, and he began to slip his tongue beyond her curly hair, past her fleshy lips and deeper inside of her to taste the juices of her pussy. She now had both hands on the back of his head, and had spread her thighs apart further. With each flip of his tongue she was gently humping his face.

The blue-eyed jogger pulled her towel away, and looked upward between her breasts as she continued fucking his mouth. He saw her smile, and he also saw an intensity in her eyes that was compelling and frightening at the same time. Shaqar pushed him onto the sofa, straddled his head and continued to hump his mouth. He had now grabbed her buttocks with both hands and was trying to devour the cunt that was on his mouth. She was no longer trying to be gentle, but was roughly scrubbing his face with her course cunt hair. Suddenly she arched her back.

Her cunt was pressed tight against his mouth and nose as the continued grinding against him. He grasped her ass tighter, then as he became oxygen deprived, he began to struggle against her continual grinding. This only caused her to press harder, the look in her eye becoming more intense, while his blue eyes only became more panic stricken as he struggled for air. There was a strength about her, he did not understand. She continued fucking his mouth until she could see there was no sign of life in his eyes any longer. She began uttering her prayer and waited, pressed against his face.

Then she shuddered in one huge climatic orgasm that rolled through her body like an ocean wave and she closed her eyes and smiled.