I wrote this so long ago… it was an english assignment and … I completely went overboard. The teacher gave me 90 % and a really weird look. I notice now that the writting isn’t as consistent as it should … oh well.
Depressed, he turned to his favorite sin; Lust.
He slowly walked the wet alleys of September. Every corner, watched by some drug addicted lightposts, shading barely enough light so that he could direct himself throught the dark maze. Everything he laid eyes on was blurred and confused. Some of the burning and smoking barrels begged him for some coins to eat. Others simply begged for alcohol. Unfortunately for them, all the alcohol he had, he had abused already. His incredibly disgracious way of walking and the heavy odour that laid in his clothes were the best proof he could provide. He wasn’t able to notice the difference between the cry and the scream of the night from the wet reunion of his black leather shoes and the cold cement.
After walking for two kilometers, opening three doors, stumbling 1 set of creaky wooden stair and passing 37 lucious lips, all offering a poor quality service, he arrived in the forbidden and disguting path to sick pleasure. His sick pleasure. A rather unique chemical smell greeted him. It wasn’t bad… it was horrible. The walls creeped slowly next to him. To his demise, he would be forced to embrace them sometime to prevent a reunion between his lips and the nasty carpet. Some dim lighted, and almost ripped from their owner, lamps were showing him the path to his relief. Doors sometimes greeted with a whimper or a not-so-distant cry of pleasure. Most of them were dead silent. Dead silent. Surprised and shocked by a muffled scream, he laid eyes on the floor in somekind of shame. He kept them there, just to be sure not to be involved. The rug snailed slowly under his feet. He stomped his way throught the corridor, creating a small city of dry mud footsteps behind him. Here and there were stains. “Are those Coffee or blood ?” his mind scratched. “Ugh!” was the usual answer. Due to age and use, the rug couldn’t contain the yells of every wooden floorboard. They took every chance they could to cry their age and boredom.
And at last, he was there. 7.4 feet away from his relief.
A mountain of flesh and muscles and a heavy metal door (both deprived of human intellect) were the ONLY THINGS, that stood in his way. The price was slim. Only costed him 133 hours of slavery work to pay this little gift to himself. The moutain moved aside opening the door to paradise.
They were there. As he had been told, the four goddess laid in front of him, waiting. He didn’t even hear the sound of the closing door. He barely heard the muffled growl of the fleshy moutain; “You have 4 hours.” the voice echoed throught the metal. He didn’t dare to move, afraid of vomiting or simply waking up from this heaven-sent present. As a blistering idiot, he stood there silently in awe in front of four beautiful half naked women. He was wasting more than precious (and costly) seconds. He knew it. He didn’t care. The cold statues suddently came alive all at once. The room was still, silently waiting around them. Was he deaf ? The room was the opposite of the hallway; Clean, cries-less and decorated with very good taste (if you were a rich and in heat). Within a few floating seconds and a blink of a almost closed eye, he was laying on the soft bed. All he could do was stare while his skin went burning and his hands drooled sweat. He was no longuer master of his own body. He still felt the presence of numbing alcohol, but the sickness slowly dissapeared. They moved around him like snakes, swiftly wrapping their victim with their cold soft skin. He felt their hot breath on his arms. Then his torso. And finally, his neck. Their fingers roamed freely. He noticed that the blond seemed to be the leader of this… “Goddess Gang”. Like a lieutenant, she directed every girls of their positions with only a quick glance. She would occassionally touch them, but the movement was abrupt, almost violent. His vision was so blurry, he could barely look at her. His attention was immediately stolen back to the amazingly beautiful brown-haired woman. She stranded him like a blanket wrapped too tight. She lowered herself, inches away from his face. Hypnotizing him with her wet anxious lips and her deep green eyes. Bottomless pits, they seemed. He was totally lost in pleasure and passion. He closed his eyes smilling.
The alarm ringed. Fingers crushed against his eyes. A few hurtful blink. Time to go to work.
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