From the novel "
Operaville", available on Amazon Kindle.
I light the candles and incense, setting the room in a hazy orange glow. I sit on the couch, an expectant audience. Maddie gives another three knocks and enters. She wears a long gray skirt with petticoats, a white rectangle of apron descending from the waist. Above that is a white blouse with puffs at the sleeves and a chocolate-brown leather corset. Her collar is open, revealing just a hint of cleavage. She wears her hair tied up in a blue scarf, flowing out the back, and her face is marked with swipes of dirt, as though she has been on an arduous journey. She speaks in clear, unaccented English, but the formality of her tone implies a 19th-century European.
“Thank you so much for taking me in! These travels have been much more difficult then I expected. It’s very gracious of you.”
She listens for a moment, as if someone is speaking to her, and then smiles.
“Oh! Well, you see, I am on a quest of sorts. I am trying to find my beau, Don Jose, who has taken up with gypsy smugglers. His mother is quite ill and… May I sit? Thank you.”
She settles rather properly on the armchair and takes a sip from an invisible glass.
“Thank you so much. Yes, you’re right, it is quite dangerous. I’ve never really done anything like this.”
Another attentive pause.
“Oh, well. I… care for Jose quite a lot. We grew up on neighboring farms, and we played together as children. And I remember this one day. I was twelve. I was beginning to… develop. I was walking back to the house after milking the cows. Jose was working the fields. It was hot that day, and he had taken off his shirt. He waved to me; I went to lean against the fence and talk to him. He continued to work as we spoke. I could see the muscles moving in his arms, like the strings of a guitar, and the way the sweat shone on his back.
“I don’t know if it is proper to describe what it was that I was feeling. A tingling. Like the tickle on your skin when your clothes rustle in the wind. Only this… tingling seemed to emanate from beneath my skirt. I wanted so badly to reach down and rub myself, but of course I could not. And watching Jose, I recalled something I had seen two days previous. A bull approached a cow in the field and, amazingly, he stood on his hind legs behind her. I had heard of such things, but I had never seen the mechanical aspect, the way the bull’s tube of flesh slid in and out of the cow’s backside. I tried to be disgusted, as I knew I should, but I was fascinated by the beauty of the design, as if these two dancing animals had rehearsed all their lives for this one performance. And that same tingling beneath my skirts – though why I should feel this way about a bull and a cow I do not know. I almost could not keep my hands off of myself. That Sunday, in church, I prayed for God to remove these temptations, or at the least to let me understand them better.”
She stops for a moment; her thoughts seem to drift. Then she squints her eyes and purses her lips.
“I detest gypsies! Filthy, ignorant animals. You see, I always thought that Jose and I were rehearsing. I suppose that I loved him. But I was a terribly shy girl, and I did not tell him a thing. Before I knew it he was in the army and off to Seville – Seville, that evil place. It was there that he met this Carmen person. I do not know what he sees in her – she’s not even pretty. But now… Now I have what it will take to win him back. If his mother’s sickness is not enough, then I will simply have to give myself to him. I am ready, I love him, and that should be enough for God. Just the thought of it… just the…”
She reaches inside her blouse, brings out one white breast and tweaks her nipple, arching backward. Then she opens her eyes and smiles.
“Everyone at home believes that I am a good girl, but I have spent years walking by the field with the bull and the cow, and… well. I know, sir, that your wife is away at her sister’s, and I hope that you do not think that I am taking advantage of circumstance, but I wonder if you… if you would show it to me.”
It takes me a moment to realize that I have been drafted – that I am the kindly farmer who has offered her lodging. I stand and shuck my shorts, revealing a hardening but untrustworthy member. She giggles.
“It is not so large as the bull’s, but it is much more handsome! Here, I have brought some oil with me. Perhaps you’d like to rub it? I have heard that men like to do such things.”
She pulls a small vial from her skirts and hands it to me, then dashes back to her chair as though I were the bull in her story. I pour some of the oil into my hand, apply it to my dick and make a good show of stroking it.
“Ooh!” Her eyes squint in pleasure and she places a hand over her skirt. “It’s that… feeling again, that tingling. Only now it’s unbearable. Are we… Are you sure that we are quite alone?”
I nod.
She looks around nervously, then slowly gathers her petticoats until, in a narrow gap beneath all the layers of clothing she reveals her pussy. She opens her legs further, displaying the moisture coating her labia, then reaches down to rub her clitoris and dip a finger inside.
“Oh! Oh! I see now why I have wanted to do that for so long! What an incredible sensation. I think it is time…”
She closes her legs, reaches into her skirts and extracts a large black dildo, made to look as realistic as possible.
“I hate the gypsies, but they do occasionally prove themselves useful. This one was a peddler of novelties, and he sold me this, a life-cast from the erect member of a Zulu warrior. ‘Even though you may not yet want to join with a man,’ the peddler said, ‘this will give you an idea of what it feels like. And you won’t get babies.’”
She spreads her legs again, pushes her petticoats aside and inserts the black cock. The sides of her entrance cling to the dildo as it slides in and out. Micaela moans.
“Oh! It feels so good. I want Jose to fill me like this. Sir, oh sir, please. Be my Jose. Put your thing inside me. Show me how it feels.”
I leap from the couch, take her hand away and push the black cock in and out, faster and faster until Micaela’s eyes begin to bug out. It’s the filthiest thing I have ever seen, and it’s divine. I take the dildo and throw it to the floor, take my cock in my hand and I am inside of her, aloft on a cloud of petticoats.
“Oh, Micaela, you feel so good.”
“Jose! Jose! Je’taime Jose. I will love you forever.”
The layers of identity are getting pretty deep. I am the middle-aged farmer banging away at the lost little girl as the pretends that I am her soldier-boy. Carmen could never be this hot – she’s too fucking obvious. I sink into the illusion and continue pumping Micaela into the armchair. I hold myself deep inside of her as I drive my tongue into her mouth, then I stand up and order her outside. I push her against the Lexus and I lift her skirts so I can surround my dick with that plump white ass.
Then I’m on the ground, redwood cones digging into my butt as Micaela bounces on top of me, all of our parts delicious hidden beneath her petticoats. She takes off her scarf to release her hair. I find myself shouting a long string of yesses as Micaela begins to sing. She looses a top note into the trees; I can feel the vibrations all the way down to my dick and it’s too much. I explode, gushing into her. Micaela screams; the sound echoes off the hillsides. I grab her by the waist and continue to empty myself out, then I roll beside her. We spend the next five minutes laughing, kissing and smiling, leaves and sticks and God-knows-what entwined in her hair.
“Micaela! You are a bad, bad girl!”
“You knew that all along; that’s why you picked me.” She kisses me and snuggles her face against my neck. I roll onto my back and see the moonlit sky, jagged silver patterns sketched across the treetops. A jetliner skates across, flashing red and white signals.
