The woman was wearing an immaculate white Hellenic stola with no jewelry. Her olive skin was free of any form of cosmetics, yet her natural beauty and regal bearing only seemed enhanced by the lack of make up. The full raven hair that fell over her shoulders in loose curls was without any treatment beyond simple brushing. An extremely fit woman, there was light definition in her smooth limbs with her gorgeous face sitting atop an long and elegant neck. It was in her eyes that there was the only hint of her true being was the irises that glowed unnaturally green, as if they had their own light source, looking like they had witnessed the sorrows and joys of millennia. And she was undoubtedly the most entrancing and beautiful woman I had ever beheld.
She stood on an ancient looking altar that, oddly enough, was located right in the middle of the backyard of my current home. As to what an ancient pagan styled altar would be doing in the backyard of a home in a wealthy Southern California suburb, I never got the chance to consider.
From my disembodied point of view I saw the unconscious body of a man laying on the altar before the woman. Though his face was covered by the Corinthian style bronze helmet that covered his whole head with plates covering his cheeks and obscuring his identity, it was clear from her tender touch that the divine woman cared for and possibly revered whoever the man was. Lucky bastard, I thought.
By this point I knew that I was dreaming though it didn't stop my panic at seeing the woman raise an obsidian bladed ceremonial knife to her own throat. I watched on horror as she drew the knife against the pale skin of her own beautiful throat. However, instead of a spray of arterial blood, there was a light flow that she collected in a brass bowl with her other hand. Within seconds the wound was fully healed with no trace of scarring and she simply wiped the excess blood from her skin,
Dipping her index finger into the brass bowl, she proceeded to use her finger to paint runes in her own blood all over the toned arms of the man laying on the altar. As the last marking was completed with surprisingly intricate skill, small cyclones formed at the head and foot of the man's body. Swirling energy whirled around his body as the blood painted runes began to glow forest green. Perhaps most intense, somehow the rays of light from large moon overhead seemed to infuse and absorb into the prone form.
By now, the woman was chanting. As she began to twirl and dance like a wild maenad, the ancient lyrics reached a fever pitch. At that moment, the cloud cover in the sky sudden parted and the moon's light shined down on the man's prone form. All of the sudden, my view had changed and I was looking down into the familiar face of the man.
In the instant before I was pulled from the dream by a bright flash of light, I recognized the face of the prone man on the altar. It wasn't very difficult to place. After all, the face was my own-and the woman was my mother.
:..:
What a weird dream.
I awoke with a start and realized that my alarm clock had been blaring for who knows how long. I still couldn't shake the dream from my mind, especially the divinely beautiful woman. Now that I was awake, I couldn't remember many details. I could remember what she looked like in every way except the structure of her face. I just couldn't picture it in my head. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to consider because I had seriously overslept.
Today might've been my 18th birthday but I still had school! And I was late. I hopped out of bed and brushed my teeth before I slid on a pair of jeans and buttoning up a white shirt before I slid on a pair of white Nikes and barreled out to the garage. I quickly slid into my car and opened the garage door and before backing out of the driveway and quickly pulling up in front of my neighbor's house right as the front door swung open and a beautiful girl emerged, her mocha skin softly glowing with morning light showing her African American heritage.
"Mornin' Kal," I said as my best female friend opened the passenger side and got into the car. "Sorry I'm running late. I slept right through my alarm." I said as the black Audi began zipping through the neighborhood's streets that led to Fox Valley High School.
"Slept through your alarm? That doesn't sound like you." She joked. "Happy Birthday Jimmy!"
I turned to look at her beautiful face, seeing a heart stopping pearly smile. As our eyes met, I could hear her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes widened a bit. "What?" I asked, flashing her a bright smile.
"Nuh... Nothing. It's just... you look different," she uncharacteristically stuttered in reply.
"Aw man, is something wrong with my hair or something? I literally just rolled out of bed."
"N.. No. It's just... I don't know. Your eyes seem different. Brighter maybe?"
I just smiled and raised on eyebrow in question. She giggled and punched me lightly in the arm before pulling out her phone and sending a text. I was about to reply when I realized that my seat felt like it was set to close to the wheel for some reason. Which was odd since my mother didn't ever drive my car. It also seemed that my pants felt tighter in the legs and looser in the waist and there was more pressure when I shifted to better position my tightly wrapped package. I realized that I had forgotten underwear in my hurry to get out the door on time. It looked like I'd be going commando today.
"Soo. Any plans for your birthday? Party maybe?" Kali joked, knowing partying wasn't really my thing.
"No plans. My mom will probably want to go to dinner in a few days when she gets back from New York, but nothing tonight. Maybe I'll do something fun this weekend." I replied.
"How is your Mom? It seems like she's been gone a lot lately."
"Yeah, she's been busy. She's had several exhibits all over the country in the recent weeks but she's almost done."
"You're mom is seriously the most beautiful woman I've ever seen... and those eyes. She's even an amazing artist. Her paintings and sculptures are like something out my Art History book. I can't imagine how the world looks through her eyes."
"Yeah, she's always been a bit different. She swears that we are done moving around now though. It looks like we'll be settling down just in time for me to graduate high school and leave for college."
"Better late than never. Eh?"
"I suppose so. I really have no right to complain. She's always been such a good mother and she's always given me my freedom and independence along with her support. Even if we have moved every year since elementary school."
"I know it's been hard on you. Never getting too attached to your surroundings or the friends you make in a place-it's a small miracle that you let me and Davis get close. But you promised me you'd start working on it! After all, it's Senior year! Most of us will be leaving next fall and this year is supposed to be our best."
"Yeah yeah. I remember," I said as we pulled into a parking spot in front of our high school.
"Try not to sound so excited," she joked.
"I'll do my best," I teased as we parted ways to head to our respective classes.
As I hurried down the hall to my first period class in an effort to minimize my tardiness, I suddenly started to feel odd. I thought it might be the start of a migraine since all of the sudden distant sounds seemed to force their way into my head. Just as the overstimulation pushed me to point of nausea, it stopped and my equilibrium returned. I quickly shook it off and entered my first period classroom.
"Mr. Hunter, how nice of you to seem us worthy of your time," said my domineering bitch of a teacher.
I made my way to my desk in the front row and settled in before she continued with her lecture. My biology teacher, Ms. Bethany Blake was as hot as high school teachers came. With dark blonde/light brown hair, golden skin and cerulean blue eyes the young teacher was held in the spank-banks of all her male students. The fact that she was a severe woman and often a controlling witch wasn't enough to keep the teenage boys from drooling over her. Even in her proper and professional clothing.
As her lecture droned on, I couldn't keep my eyes from wandering over her. She truly was beautiful. I really started to regret not having time for my usual morning yank session as I saw her heart shaped ass perfectly framed in a pencil skirt as she bent over to retrieve some graded tests from her bag.
As I felt myself stiffening down my left pant leg, she stood up and turned around. As her eyes met mine, she flashed me a dirty look. I saw her eyes flick downwards before widening noticeably. She dropped the test she was holding and froze as she stood, apparently entranced, her mouth hanging slightly open. As she shook herself out her trance, my eyes followed the path of hers had been on. Looking down, I saw a ridiculously long bulge swelling along the inseam of my leg.
Now, I'd never been small, but this was something else. It looked like there was a long and hugely thick tube stuffed in my pants. Not only was I surprised by what appeared to be a significant overnight growth spurt, I was a bit embarrassed because my lack of underwear left little to the imagination. Through the dark denim the ridge my circumcised helmet was clearly defined and pulsing. Looking close, I could even see the thick veins that wrapped around the shaft. I was so shocked, puzzled and embarrassed that I spent the rest of the class period in contemplative silence before quickly slipping out of the classroom as soon as the bell sounded.
I went through my next period in a daze as well. Something off was happening to me and now that I was aware of it, it seemed to be more noticeable. Surprisingly, panic wasn't my reaction as much as puzzlement. Whatever it was, I not only sprouted a cock that would make a porn star blush but I also felt better than ever. The bell the my second period class ended before I could reach a conclusion but I decided that it'd be best to roll with it since panic had never improved any situation that I'd been in.
Unfortunately, by spacing out in my first period class I had totally missed my assignments for the night and Davis, my best friend was in Chicago for the week helping his sister pack and move back to our little town after a divorce. Miss Blake was going to chew my ear off about it, no doubt. She had always had an extra edge when dealing with me directly so I had assumed that, for whatever reason, she just didn't like me. I was always polite and I definitely got good grades, being a bit of a self-imposed loner since I knew it was easier to not get attached to people when I wouldn't know them for more than a year. I was a veritable angel when compared to some of my more crude peers.
As I knocked on her classroom door at the start of the lunch hour, there was no answer. I opened the door, intending to wait for her return, when an intoxicating smell rushed my senses. The scent was familiar but I was too distracted to consider it further.
As I closed my eyes and breathed deep, a female voice reached to my ears. "Oh yes. Yes! You like fucking your teacher don't you! You like that?"
I recognized the voice immediately as Miss Blake. After breaking through my shock, I got a great idea. Pulling out my iPhone and starting the video recorder, I quietly approached the door to the supply closet containing the biology lab supplies and cracked the door.
Looking inside, I was excited yet disappointed to see that Miss Blake wasn't fucking one of her students but rather vigorously masturbating with one hand thrust down her skirt and another clutching a balled up T-shirt to her face.
