The airplane lazily cuts through the cloudy, gray sky like a bored knife through warm butter. The air is wet and cold. Windy. Inside the plane, the tacky orange carpet screams of gaudy 1960's. The bright, orange seats were plump and cushy. And the place had much more in common with a small 1960's party room/sitting room, than an airplane. The stewardess walked in, carrying cakes and champagne. She smiled a gentle grin, her hair poofed up in a Mary Tyler Moore cut.
"Would you loik some cake, love?" she offers, slightly blushing due to being ever so attracted to the big man sitting in the chair next to her, reading a newspaper. He pulled the paper down, smiling. Around 27-30 years old, his eyes are heavily slanted. He has high cheek bones, a round nose, thick Africanesque lips, thick and silky black hair in a short professional neat cut, and dark reddish skin the color of reddish chocolate. His shoulders are wide, and his belly flat. He's built like a linebacker. She giggles to herself, as he reminded her of those statues from America, in front of a cigar store. She flutters her blonde eyelashes, wishing to all damn he’d just take the hint and ask for her number.
"Um, no thank you." he smiles sweetly, eager to get back to his paper.
Born in Atlanta, Georgia. Moved to Chicago. Got into college, and attended for 8 years. 8 years to get his bachelor's. Then went to Tuskegee, hoping to get a fair shake.
William, a Muskogee kid, went to college. But... college was miserable for him. Because, despite all the love and friendliness shown to him, he was a target. His advisor, Jan O’Henehan, pretended to be helping him, but in reality, she was working overtime to mislead him and destroy his record.
He was given a job from a Canadian Real Estate company, Stokingham, headed by Pierre Jean-Viaulle. Pierre expanded his operation into Atlanta, Georgia, moving there to oversee it himself. He appreciated William's legal and people skills, and threw the newcomer into the thick of the field. Finally given a chance, William proved he succeeds in working with contracts and more importantly, winning people over. With his kindness and gentle personality, in spite of his massive size.
But now, William is enjoying himself. He's only flown in a plane once before. Because of lack of staff, he was offered an international assignment. And he jumped at it. He's to do his usual, but with a client overseas. William knows his neck is on the line. But he loves all of this.
He’s being sent to Austria. The flight to England was exhausting. But, as luck would have it, the client wanted him to take first class to Austria from London, for the sake of being refreshed and able to fully explain the ins-and-outs of the business. He eases outward his size 16 shoes, enjoying the freedom to stretch his legs. As the stewardess makes her rounds, she comes back around again, her beautiful face marred by her crooked teeth.
"If you need anything, please feel free to call me. Anytime, love." she blushes hard. Mad inside that he's too shy to just up and ask her out.
"Sure, thank you so much." he smiles, just feeling the nervousness from hoping he doesn't mess this job up.
"Groovy." she flutters her eyes, leaving out.
A gorgeously pristine, glossy black car peacefully, yet rapidly rumbles down the road. A Mercedes G-4 Wagen. Like a 1920's Volkswagen crossed with a hummer and given jeep tires. It formerly was a Nazi car. But the ornaments on it have been professionally and tediously cut off and replaced with what looks like a hammer that has an upside-down U for a top. Runic designs lace them beautifully. The car has been tediously customized. As if a despiser of all things Nazi has edited the car to their own proud likings, furiously ripping any and all things tied to the Reich away from the vehicle’s every inch. The car barely bumps, as it races down the dark and lonely road at extreme speed.
At the helm of the speeding black wagon is a small German woman with a thick tawny bun. Her driver's hat, like a black police hat, is pulled down over her head, obscuring her face. Her tiny, white hands calmly work the wheel like a perfectionist driver filled with experience. Cheap little 1950s earrings sit in her ears, dull and boring. A gentle German opera whispers from the radio in front.
William sits in the plush backseat, half-way in the twilight of sleep. The music, the warmth, the rocking of the car, and the gentle fall of the snow, all rocked him asleep. The flights were long and rushed. He barely had time to drink a cup of water before running from the Atlanta airport to the London one, and then touching down in Austria. When he landed that evening, it was almost black outside. And had begun snowing. He quickly touched himself up in the mirror with his little cousin's afro pick, splashing water on his face and straightening up his appearance before he had rushed out. He had been thankful for signs in English, since he could barely make out what the German signs said, let alone understand the sweet, smiling people around him. When he walked out, hoping he wasn't stranded, he saw a small brunette, with tawny brown hair, 5 foot 9, about 140 lbs, thin but shapely, standing in a black driver's suit for women. She held up a sign with his name. He walked up to meet her, held his hand out to shake hers. But she pulled her cap down way over her face, which was already hard to see, and abruptly turned around, briskly exiting out the door.
"Damn... well... maybe that's Austrian manners." he thought, as he followed her while carrying his case with him. In the dark part of the driveway, she opened his door in the back and bowed like a female butler. When he stopped in front, trying to get out a normal "Danke", it seemed like she was frozen. Stuck. Like a mannequin. But the moment he "ummm"-ed and got into the car, she abruptly slammed the door and walked to the driver's seat. The seats were immaculate. They were fur. Thick brown fur covered them. And the back of the front seat's leather was embroidered with what looked like runic animal drawings. When she got in the car, silent, she strapped in her belt, and clicked on the radio, whispering German opera through the vehicle.
"Good?" she said in a hard, Rgg-ling accent.
"Yeah. Uh, ja." he said with a hard J. Her pink lips spread into a smile, a flicker of light from her eyes. A flash of red in the mirror, he thought he saw.
"Is "yah", yah." she corrected.
"Mm-hm." she started up the big car and down the road they had went.
For so long.
And he fell into sleep.
A small, rough hand jerks him awake. William's slanted eyes open the moment he breathes in cold, fresh winter air. He looks up to see the little driver woman holding his huge case in one hand as if it's nothing for her little body, and standing there, as if not amused. In the darkness, he truly can't see her face now. The sounds of voices barely trickle through the hard blowing winds. He blinks hard, looking in the dark. The little driver turns her back to him, throwing her dainty hand up in the air and screaming something in German.
Then, there is nothing but the wind.
"Damn..." he says to himself, easing his big muscular thighs out the back of the car. His black shoes crunch in the snow, as he stands up in the darkness. In the darkness, the moon shines through a cloud break, revealing what is a monstrous house. Almost like a castle. No, wait... it IS a castle. Isn't it? It reminds him of Highclere Castle in England, but... some parts look medieval. And some look super modern. Only a small lantern of light hangs from one of the doors. The tiny, gloved hand grabs him by the forearm, and jerks forward, nearly making William fall.
((Damn, she's strong. And pushy!)) he thinks to himself. She briskly walks through the snow, making him hurry behind her up the paved road. She plops his suitcase on the door and stands within inches of him, clearing her throat and opening her palm.
"Uh... OH!" he reaches into his wallet and grabs a few dollars, stuffing them into her palm. A smile with pointy looking teeth smiles, stuffing the dollars into her perky, plump, small bust. She clomps away, getting into the car and seeming to melt away into the blackness with the car.
The whistling howls of the wind and the inky blackness of this winter night make William's throat wobble, as he adjusts his clothes and curses himself for thinking about those old horror movies. ((Get your shit together, cat.)) he thinks to himself. He knocks on the huge door. Then looks around for anything else. A large, gaudy, 1960's looking golden flashy doorbell sits on the side. The huge castle is dark, as if every light inside is off. His chocolate finger presses the bell, causing the inside of the house to seemingly explode with a ring. He jumps inside, then losing the jumpscare to the feeling of humiliation and wanting to shrink 2 inches tall. ((Does it gotta be so DAMN loud?!)) his brain screams.
The door opens by itself. Slowly. Creaking.
Or seems to.
From behind it is the driver lady. But how? Didn't she ju-......maybe it's another one. Her hat also pulled down over her face. She bows like a butler in the doorway. "Come in, please." she says gently. Then she seems to stop. To freeze in time. As if she's pretending to be a mannequin in this bent over pose with her welcoming hand out. Except there's no shaking, no breathing. A perfect freeze.
William stands there. And nothing seems to happen. At all. The inside of the castle reminds him of the house from 'Gone With The Wind'. It's brightly lit. Warm and toasty. Elegant. He grabs his suitcase and walks in. The moment his foot crosses the threshold, the butler woman snaps to life again, slamming the huge heavy door as if it's just a flimsy piece of wood. The house echoes with a thunderous THROOM!
"DAMN!" William screams. She ignores him, briskly fast walking away to turn a corner. He rushes behind her to catch up, trying not to slip from the wet snow and the hard, glossy floor that doesn't have carpet.
She's gone. Disappeared. Where the FUCK, DAMMIT! I'm too tired for this shit!
"Ma'am?! Frau?!" ((Slamming doors n' shit, this heavy-handed bitch...)) "Miss? Um, I think you..." ((...must be out her damn mind... actin' a damn fool.))
"Oh, hello. William, right?" echoes a gentle, intelligent voice. A German accent to it. But just barely.
"Uh, YES! Yes!" he turns around, heading back to the main hall where the voice came from. He returns to see a beautiful, brunette woman gently heading down the stairs. She is skinny and dainty. About 5'9. 120-140 pounds. Thick, silky brown hair rolls down her shoulders and back. Immaculate earrings like mini-chandeliers dance from her earlobes. Her hair runs down to her knees, her bangs sweep partly over one eye. Her lips are deep red, and a necklace that looks easily $5,000 sparkles around her smooth, toned neck. Her chin is soft and squarish, her cheekbones beautiful and ivory. Her long, white nails glisten in the light, flat tipped at the end. A long, silken red dress drizzles down the stairs behind her. Her tiny cleavage plumps up, rosy topped. A runic tattoo seems to run from under her right ear to down the side of her neck, and down her shoulder.
"Dear heaven have mercy..." he mumbles.
She looks down, disgusted, her wrist dripping with jewelry, lifts up to sweep a tawny curtain of hair from her face.
"I'm sorry. I thought I should look my best when meeting new people. I look bad."
"No...you're gorgeous.... I-I-I mean, look. I'm not trying to-"
She blushes, smiling and looking down at her feet. Naked, on the red-carpeted shag steps.
"I meant to say that you look very, very beautiful this evening, Mrs. Elga. And I was just shocked at how nice everything here is. ((There you go, brother. Smooth coverage.)) I'm blown away. I have never seen anything this nice and modern in my life." he admits, looking at the shag carpeting, and even a disco ball. So damn modern.
"Uh, I'm sorry, what?"
"Please, I prefer Amiria. May I call you William? Or Will? Your surname is...heehee, difficult for me to pronounce, let alone right."
"It's okay. Will, William, or Kee-Kee. Whichever is most comfortable for you."
"Alright then, William." she smiles, finally descending from the last step; "I know you are tired and hungry." Amiria paces up to him, looking up at his massive chest. She smiles a wide, pearly grin. Her bright red lips contrasting with her white teeth. Her eyes have a bright orangish tint to them. Almost red, William thinks. Her tawny hair glistens yellow, but looks chocolate in it's darkest parts. Her skin is pale and ivory, but bright red rosy is her cleavage, shoulders and face.
"Excuse my red ass. I was scrubbing with a new skin stone, and it made me just so damned red."
"You look wonderful, no worries."
She beckons him up the stairs, and he follows. William feels dead on his feet, tired.
"What would you like to eat? You know, we are the homeland of schnitzel? The best."
"Oh, no thank you. I'm just VERY tired. Heh, I'm probably too tired to eat."
"None are too tired to eat. I have never been too tired to eat."
A mist of animosity in her voice puts William on alert.
"I'm sorry. Sure, what is schnitzel? Is that a dessert?"
"Hahahaha, noooo! It is a fried veal patty, perfected and given the true flavors of Gothic craftsmanship! You simply must dine."
"If you want to. It's your choice. I... apologize. Sometimes, I forget, you Americans are... different."
"It's okay, Ms. El..er, Amiria."
"Thank you, William." she teases. They head to the top floor, and go down one of the long hallways. It looks regal and old, lined with massive, beautiful doors, white-painted stone walls, a lovely carpet, and dimly-lit bulbs of light hanging from the ceiling.
They stop at a large door. It looks beautiful and well kempt. She turns the knob, pushing it open as if it weighs ounces. The inside is glorious, like something from a fantasy. A large bed coated in red, silk covers. Artistic wooden furniture at every corner, each bit of them designed with high detailed shapes and forms. A large window sits at the wall, tall and thin, square at the bottom, rounded at the top. It's sill is almost like a miniature stone table, at waist height. The 2 glass doors to it are latched locked by a golden inside latch. William walks in. The cold wintry winds blow outside, but the room is so warm and toasty. A fireplace with lit but low fire sits in the wall. It is covered by a modern metal screen. A small shelf in the room is lined with all manner of books. And a small table with two chairs is mere feet from the bed.
"Are you sure you would not like to eat before bed, William?" she frowns, looking disappointed. "I have some leftovers that can be brought up to you?"
"No, I just would to like to get some sleep. Is there a shower I can use in the morning?"
"Yes. But I will show it to you myself. I do not want you traipsing around my home by yourself."
"Oh. Yes, ma'am."
"Good night, William."
The door closes shut gently. A loud clack signals a key going into the lock, and locking it shut.
"Damn..." he whispers to himself, pulling his shoes and suit coat off. He looks for a mirror, but... he can't find one. Ah, well. Culture clash. As he goes to open his case, he lays some fresh clothes on the table, and puts some of his knick-knacks on the stone mini-table/window sill. As he does, something catches his eye. Like a red flag's tip flipped into the night. Meh, probably some kind of cloak she has. Or either he's more tired than he thinks. He ignores it and goes back to doing his thing. William looks up, to peek out at the white snow before laying down to notice what looks like disturbance in the snow. As if a light cloth was dabbed on the hard snow layer. It wasn't there before. He swore the snow was plain and naked.
Eh. He's tired. He's dead on his feet.
William flops into bed, falling into an undercurrent of sleep. Not drifting. But drowning. As he sleeps, he starts dreaming already. Dreams of goofy stuff. And giggles. Like people giggling...
Lost in the inky black abyss of slumber, William Kikiwawason's huge red-chocolate body, wide shoulders, wide chest, and big arms are all balled up under the silk white sheets. He was dreaming. Asleep. But still, consciously aware. He KNEW he was sleep, he KNEW he was dreaming. But he also KNEW there was giggling. And he was trying to decipher if it was just the dream or not.
A small guy with a blonde bowl cut that hung down to his earlobe walked up him. In nothing but a white, silken shirt. It hung down to his knees. He smiled, flirting. His bright blue eyes cut from down to up, sizing up the big man in front of him. He walked up to William, teasing his two fingers along the big man's shoulder.
"Hi..." he smiles.
William stands there in jeans and a yellow shirt, long sideburns to his jawline, his hair silver white. William's father was prematurely grey, from about 10 years old. And now, William was too. His sideburns were white, his hair silver. He took to dying his hair and cutting his sideburns since he's been working. But in this dream, he had his natural look. The dark skinned man looks down with slanted eyes and a Asian face. He is often mistaken for Mexican or Native Brazilian.
William feels a stirring in his loins. He's ashamed at being so attracted. The face, the hair, the smile. Even the soft gentle touch of the two fingers traipsing up his shoulder. He feels his groin roar to life, full and swollen. Dripping. He's never been made this horny before. He feels his heart thunder in his chest. He swallows hard, looking around so nobody bothers h- wait....this is a dream. "I can do what I wanna do!" he thinks to himself.
He reaches out, grabbing the blonde around his waist. The smaller, pale hands furiously slide down his big shoulders and jam up his shirt, sliding up his dark body. William is big, and strong, but a bit flabby. He's ashamed. He was a obese little boy. And he grew up a big, brawny, musclebound meathead. Who was a bookworm. And he wasn't cut, like those muscle men in the new movies.
His eyes look down, embarrassed. Ready for rejection.
But the hands only grab and grasp at him, hungrier. He looks up, feeling a surge of relief and joy. The blonde looks up at him, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eye. He smiles, "I like the big ones...". They lock eyes, while hands intrude down into William's groin. Despite the jeans, his hands slide in as if there's nothing but boxers on. Which now...is the case. William's in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. Which is okay. Just please don't wake up without finishing...he thinks. The deft male's hands stroke and squeeze, as the other hand fondles and rubs the big, chocolate balls. A dollop of precum spills from an erection so hard that it hurts. The blonde's own 7 inches rises up between his legs, popping out the foreskin.
Now, William's naked. No longer in the white shirt.
"Ohhh....." William moans, rolling his head back.
He feels soft lips kiss his neck, and turns to see a thin surfer-like guy with long curly brunette hair down to his ass. He kisses and sucks William's strong, muscular neck, sliding his hands down the wide strong chest.
"Mmmm...I love cherrywood..." he jokes badly. But William doesn't care. He's lost in heaven. A heaven he wished his family's hyper homophobia didn't stop him from enjoying.
"Don't get greedy..." mutters a deep, male voice. William opens his eyes to see a guy who looks racially mixed. His hair falls to his shoulders in long blonde curls. Freckles dot his flat nose and thick, pink lips. His eyelashes are long and black, decorating his light tan eyes. Almost red, William thinks. He's naked, boasting a fully erect 9 inches. William moans loudly, feeling the bowlcut blonde kiss his chest, and smelling the sweet softness of his hair. He drops to his knees, and engulfs the 6 inch black pipe down his throat. His head slowly bobs back and forth, with loud slurping sounds, as the cock is worked until it can't be anymore. He then pulls back, only holding the huge purple head in his mouth. He flicks it with his tongue, smiling.
William feels the rock hard erection of brunette behind him being stroke and thrust against his back. Leaving sticky stains of precum. His hands greedily grab the chest as he begins nipping and kissing the big brown neck.
"Ouch! ...ohhhhh....." William feels lost, a sharp prick, then a warm and soothing "glow" of relaxation and sensual euphoria flood his neck. The pink lips suck and slurp, leaving hickies on the one spot.
The mixed guy slides up behind William, and grabs his buttocks. Squeezing and rolling them in his light caramel hands. The sensation is insane. Amazing. A cross between sensual massage, relaxation, and a new sensation in his prostate. The caramel fingers with long white nails press together in two fingers and press hard against William's taint. He feels like he wants to explode with a orgasm. A wet, hot tongue makes him jerk and jump as it pops inside his anus. It laps and whirls expertly, as the two fingers press and vibrate his taint and the erected shaft of his cock under his ball bag.
"Ohhhh!!" William tries to hold off, feeling the biggest orgasm of his life chugging forward soon. "OUCH!" he feels a prick in his buttock, than a warm soothing glow like sensual massage oil under his skin. "Ooohhhhhhh jeebus...."
As the pleasure builds up, he feels a bit lightheaded. The blonde presses his tongue hard under the bottom of the cock in his mouth, and then begins to tease by shaking his head "no", letting the circumcised dick be rubbed and slid constantly.
William can't hold off any longer. He can't.
"OHHHH DAMN!!!!!" he screams, feeling a hot storm flame from his taint up through the end of his cock head. The blonde keeps shaking his head "no" while loudly slurping the head between his lips. He gulps the streams of sweet and salty cum hitting the back of his throat. He feels a raging greed to get every drip down into his tummy. He loves it. He wishes there was more. There's not enough.
A loud, hard grunt burns out of William's mouth. So hard and long that it hurts and makes his throat sore. He stands on his tip toes, almost screaming as the tongue keeps lapping and the head keeps shaking left to right. He looks down at the thick, silky curtains of blonde hair and the part down the middle. He loves the part down the middle. It turns him on. Always has. He grabs the blonde's head, loving the feel of the silky hair in his big, red-chocolate hands, as the white lips greedily gulp and swallow the black cock. His throat chugs again, trying to not let one drop ever escape his stomach. If there be anymore hiding inside those balls, he was determined and lap it out. He knew sometimes after a orgasm, some semen still spills. And he was going have that too.
William almost squeals a high pitched cry, as he feels every drip forced out of him by a milking throat. The two caramel fingers with long white nails begin pressing and rolling his taint, moving in hard vibrating circles.
"OoooOHHHHHHHHH JEEBUS!!!!!!!" he screams.
"WHAT IS THIS?!!!!" screams a female voice. It sounds familiar. Amiria's voice.
William feels them all suddenly pull away from him. His wet, saliva-dripping cock feels cold in the naked air. He feels a warm, relaxing, muscle-melting trickle run down his neck like room-temperature water. His own eyes burst open to see Amiria standing there in her same clothes. Her hands wave in the air in a fury, as her eyes really do look bright red. Her lips look wet, as if she dabbed on red paint. She screams and shouts in German, stomping her naked foot on the ground.
William gasps awake, seeing himself naked and standing next to the bed. He sees the 3 guys around him cowering. They seem... solid up top, but their feet seem made of mist, or fog. The bedroom door is open. Helga stands there screaming and yelling. Her fingers curl like claws and she throws her hands like a dictator. William jumps to cover his nakedness, looking around in confusion. He feels the warm spit from the hickey kiss drip down his chest.
Amiria screams and throws her hand towards the open doorway. The 3 seem to kind of.... skate out. They run, but they move as if skating, not the up and down motion of running.
She rushes up to William, a look of fury and outrage on her pretty face. But she then looks him up and down, as if pitying him. She grabs his face, her soft hands on each cheek, and gets a inch from his lips. Her lips press against his. They feel hot. Wet. And plump. Her hair smells soft and sweet. Her tongue is strong and long. William feels sleepy. She pushes him with one hand, knocking him off balance and onto his back. She slaps his hands from his cock, and grabs the base squeezing. A dollop of white dribbles out the top, which she hurries to lick up. Her tongue along the base of his cock makes him groan, digging his fingers into the sheets.
She loudly swallows the seed, before licking his cock clean of all the drool and saliva from the blonde guy. William groans loud, unable to take this oversensitivity. Once his cock is clean of all excess fluid, she smiles and stands up. Then wiping a clearish-white drip from her chin and sucking it off her finger. William closes his eyes and falls back to sleep on the bed. But as he drifts off, he feels her hand swipe up the wet warm drips of spit from the sloppy kisses off his body. She loudly slurps her fingers clean, before the sound of the door slamming shut makes him jolt. As if the door was closed on her before she could even get her finger out of her mouth.
He looks up to see he's naked and alone in the bedroom. He drops back into the silk and goose-down pillow, falling into the abyss of somnambulance.
William awakens refreshed. The crisp Austrian air and the gentle scent of the fireplace slaps him with a full appreciation for simpler things. He yawns and pulls back the sheets from over his body. They pull a little at his naked, limp cock. Dried stains. He then remembers the wild wet dream he had.
He stretches and pulls off his t-shirt, to change into something fresh. He feels something hard and crispy on his skin. He looks down and rakes over over a stripe of dark blackish-brown crunch that seems to run from his shoulder to his chest.
As if it had dripped down from his neck.
He reaches up and feels a slightly sore little welt in his neck. As if a giant mosquito had bit him. It's sore, red. But that's it. He looks outside to see it's evening. He rubs his hand over his face, then through his thick and silky short black hair.
Just how long did he sleep? The clock on the wall, looking like it was built in the 1600's, yet still in amazing freshly-made condition, shows 6:30 PM. He feels a tinge of panic, rushing into his suit case to get his folders and paper case in order.
The door opens. Standing there is Amiria, smiling. Her long, tawny hair is done up in a big, illustrious bun. Long curls run down the sides to her small but pushed up bosom. She wears a long, white dress to the floor.
"Good evening." she smiles in her light German accent. "Will you be having a meal?"
"Yes ma'am. Of course. I'm sorry I overslept. Time zones, you know?"
"Do not worry about it, William. You had a very fitful evening, I take it?" she looks at his disheveled shirt. It reveals his round belly, which he is ashamed of. His boxers are half down, revealing his shaved pubic area. He blushes brutally, trying to yank his shirt down and jerk his boxers up.
"Hmph hmf!" she laughs; "Just come down soon, I'd enjoy your company. The washroom is at the end of the wall. To your left." she points to her right, before gently smiling and walking away. The door seems to shut smoothly. She must have deftly slid her hand and moved it, because he could've swore it closed by itself.
After a wash-up, he redressed and came down the huge flight of stairs laid over with the bright red shag carpet. There was no shower in the bathroom. Only a very large bathtub, a toilet that seemed spotless and unused, and a huge marble sink. He had to wash up with soap and water, then wipe the water off the floor. Damn, he missed showers.
He dressed in his button down shirt and navy blue pants, hair combed, coming down the stairs with a small case of paperwork.
"In here, William." yells a voice that seems to echo throughout the entire house. He followed it's source location, hoping to see the butler lady from last night. Or even the driver. But nobody. Nothing. It just seemed like he and Amiria were the only two in this castle of a house. Or was it a house of a castle?
The dining room looks like something out of medieval times. A long wooden table in the middle of a room with a fireplace. Large weapons along the walls, and suits of armor decorate the hall. She sits at the end of the table, her legs folded, reading a magazine full of pictures. At the opposite end was a silver platter with a top on it. It steamed.
"Would you mind if I had a bite to eat first, Amiria?"
"I would mind if you did not." she answers in a crisp, dominant tone.
((Oookay. Moody.)) he thought, sitting down and lifting the silver top. Real silver. The silverware was real silver, encrusted with jewels. A hot plate of what looked like a giant chicken fried steak greets his starving eyes. Hot, salted cabbage in a little bowl sat on the plate. He wants to wolf it down. But keeping manners, he must remain a gentleman. He cuts it apart, eating slowly.
"This is delicious!" he smiles at the not-smiling feminine form sitting at the other end. She does not look at him, just stares into her magazine. The low, relaxing lights of the ceiling and the fireplace lights glow off her tawny hair with a golden sheen. Her light tan eyes look almost red in the light. Well... definitely red. She sighs, her bottom teeth almost look a little too... pointed.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Please tell me what I did. I don't want to insult you."
"You've said nothing. Nothing at all. About my home. About my hospitality. About my appearance. Nothing. You have no sense of respect or hospitality."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was so very tired last night. You have a lovely, lovely home. A castle, really. And you've been the most gracious hostess I've ever experienced in my life. And the first class trip, thank you, , from the bottom of my heart. Truly!"
She turns the page nonchalantly, yawning as if bored.
"And you look amazing. Everything is just beautiful. I don't want you to think I'm overstepping here, but YOU are absolutely enchanting. Breathtaking. The word 'beautiful' doesn't justify what you are."
She smiles. But, doesn't blush. If she did, you can't tell in her pale skin.
"Alright. Now, I am pleased." she closes the book, looking down at the floor, with a huge smile. She won't look at him, but her cheeks burn from the hard smiling. Her hand strokes away a long curl hanging down her face.
"And? How is the schnitzel?"
Honestly, it was the best damn chicken fried steak he's ever had in his life. He didn't think anybody could fry better than his auntie. But this? Maybe Europe can compete with the South.
"This is just...just...indescribable."
She turns away, her hand over the side of her face.
"I prepared it myself."
"Beautiful and a chef? Wow. You're an angel on Earth."
She smiles harder, but her voice takes a tone of seriousness.
"Would that not be a fallen angel?"
"((This moody bitch.)) No. You're just amazing."
She smiles. "When are you finished, leave the dishes there. And let us do this business, shall we?"
They sat together in the reading room. Like a giant living room, in the middle of a library, with a fireplace that wasn't lit. And a brown globe in the middle of the room.
The huge windows reveal the dark inky black winter night sky. Stars glow bright, as does the moon. The huge field of flat white snow blasts the moonlight back into the window, giving the room a strange sort of lighting. It is beautiful.
Amiria is nitpicky and tedious. Going through every word, every detail, as if a editor and a filter. She debated and argued a contract, then complained about other things. She was tedious and high maintenance. Explaining just 3 contracts, which normally took a good hour, took almost 4. William was exhausted, but kept going as long as she wished.
"Are you hungry, William? Would you try more of my culinary?"
"Yes indeed. I would LOVE to."
She smiled hard, as if her entire face should go beet red. But it doesn't. It stays ivory. She leaves, then returns with another platter of warmed schnitzel and a dinner tray.
She sits next to him while he eats, going through a magazine and talking about the new things, as if she's an excited kid who never saw any of them before ever. William hated every minute, but he smiled and sat through it anyway. When he finishes, he offers to return the dishes. But she adamantly stops him, wanting to take the dishes away. They fall onto the dinner tray. He backs up, hoping to not mess anything up. But she jerks forward, as if reacting to thinking they would hit the tray, then bounce and roll off into the chair.
The plates fall onto the tray. But the weird motion of the two both ends up pressing their bodies against one another. Her chest and stomach press against his. Her stretched out arm slides along his side. His massive arm wraps around her.
Her orangish-brown eyes look up into his dark, slanted eyes. They are inches from each others faces. Both, looking nervous, stay locked on each other. Amiria heaves a deep breath in her chest, and her arm slowly presses against William. He does the same. She breathes hard, her breath blowing in his face. She feels his erection explode outward against her soft body. William, ashamed, wants to back up. But if he does, he'll either knock the dinner tray over into the plump chair, or fall backwards with it. He breathes hard, as her body gently presses against his erection. She looks awkward, feeling it, as his arm slides against her. They get closer, lips coming closer.
Amiria bursts backwards, her face turned and looking down the floor. William quickly turns and tries to sit down behind the tray with empty dishes, hoping to hide the erection his brain doesn't want to accept that she already felt.
"I-I-I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. I... I think maybe the jetlag..." he stutters. His heart drops into his belly, fearing he was now fired.
"William... I'm very flattered..." she looks at the floor, her face turned away.
"Amiria, I never mean to disrespect you."
"William, I need you to understand something."
"I understand it was an accident. Things like this do happen. Sometimes the body will do as it will, regardless."
"I was not born a woman, exactly. I am a woman, but did not receive the body of one. A unfortunate condition."
"Do you understand?"
"Yes. You are transgender?"
"I am a woman. Who is unfortunately in the body of a man."
"Sighhh......I hope this...has not, negatively effected our business arrangement. I realize some people harbor prejudices, no matter how ignorant or based from misunderstanding their own scriptures and gods."
William stands up, despising the sense of disgust she shows on her twisted lips.
"Well, I am not one of those people, Amiria. I've suffered prejudice all my life because of how I was born. Trust me, I understand. I understand so well, that I refuse to ever return to some places." he says, thinking of Illinois. "And honestly, you are the most beautiful, most amazing, most enchanting woman I have ever met in my life."
Her reddish eyes flash at him with a look of surprise. Unexpected. As if she's not just taken by surprise, but never has been taken by surprise.
"Be wary, lest your silver tongue leave you a lifeless silver heap in a wyrm's treasure horde." she smiles, waving her finger at him. Her body language opens towards him, her front facing him. But her face looks away and down.
He walks over to her, and gently rubs her naked shoulders. All in hopes that his emotions don't get him fired or something worse. William fears expressing himself to people, because too many times it was a trap. Usually, a racist trap. But a trap nonetheless.
But instead of repulsion or revulsion and jerking away which he was used to, she softens instead. Her shoulders turn to butter in his arms. She leans back, opening herself. William hugs her tight to him, letting her lay her head on his wide chest. She doesn't care that he is a little chubby. Like a American football linebacker. She likes it. It turns her on. It makes her feel safe. Protected. Dominated. Conquered. Beloved. Held. Precious. Treasured.
She feels his thick erection rise again, as she pushes into his body and slides her hands up his back. She loves the feeling. Her giant protector is turned on by her. And wants to breed her. It makes her heart thunder in her chest. And her own erection rock to full 1000% hardness.
"Amiria's not my birth name..." she sighs.
"What is it?" he mumbles, laying his cheek on top of her head.
"It's a man's name..."
"I don't care. Wilhelmina is a girl's name. Call me Will. There's girls called Will. You are you. And you're amazing."
Her eyes soak, as she sniffles hard. Her hands rub and squeeze his big arms. She cranes her neck and rose her square chin up, letting a gasp sigh out of her. His lips quickly press into her smooth ivory neck, kissing silently. Her erection throbs like a thunderbolt, and her nipples shoot out straight. His massive arms encase her smaller body, making her arch her back and gasp louder.
He nibbles her ear, which is raining with diamonds. She gasps louder, lifting her leg up and arching her back to him. She quickly undoes her hair, letting the tawny locks fall down to her ass. His huge hands grip her tighter, as she fell, lost. Lost in this massive man's grip. She loves how huge he is. She loves that he is a little bit chubby. She loves how their skin contrasts with one another. Oh gods.... oh gods... YES.
"Take me..." she sighs with dripping desperation. "Take me... lay me, right here, right now. Lay me like a beast!"
She jumped back from him, furiously taking off her dress. Her chest is flat, and her small cock sticks upwards like a furious little torpedo about to explode. Her little white balls clench up to her taint, lost in the lust. William furiously unbuttons his shirt, jumps out of his pants, then rushes upon her. She arches her back, and falls backwards onto the floor. Almost screaming with passion at this massive monstrously large and strong beautiful man making her his. Oh gods... YES.
She spreads her ivory legs, furiously wrapping them around his big waist. Their lips press together as her long hair makes almost a blanket under them. Her long nails cut into his skin, leaving red marks. She could feel the massive and powerful shoulders underneath, belonging to the knight who would ravage her to her heart's content. And beyond, if she could so damned help it.
She quivered and squealed, feeling the huge cock head push against her.
"Yes...yes...TAKE ME....make me YOURS..."
His only response was a hard kiss against her chin, and down the tender skin of her throat. Her red eyes bulge open and she screams, almost cumming, lost in the pain and pleasure of feeling his thick erection plunge deep inside her body. Her ivory thighs tighten around his waist, toes curling in her elegant shoes. Her flat chest and pointed nipples press against his big chest. Amiria arches her back and raises her hips, urging him to go deeper. She buries her face in his neck, kissing and sucking his skin as he begins to gently thrust her body against the floor.
William feels her soft lips kiss and lick against his neck and face. Her body quivers in passion, feeling her thrusting her hips upward hard and aggressively. She slams upward to meet every one of his own hips' downward movements. He can feel her prostate against his head. Every time he slides past it, she clenches her thighs around him much harder. She squeezes down, milking him so good that it's painful. Painful pleasure. So hard, that he couldn't pull out if he wanted to.
Her long silky hair is like a carpet of tawny curls. She's lost in the lust-passion of being taken. He is struggling to not lose his load right here and now, as she buries her face in his shoulder, growling urges to be taken. Her red eyes clench closed, her white teeth grit. Her long nails cut deep. Her ivory face drips sweat.
"AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!" she screams like a woman in a horror movie. Her shriek rips through the house like a thunderstorm in a hurricane. Her depths close and lock down on him, as her prostate overloads with nerve impulses. Her little cock explodes with thick white streams of cum that spray William's stomach and chest.
"UUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" she screams, slamming the back of her head against the floor. Her body quivers like a vibrator. Her eyes bulge, glossed over, mouth gaped open in a silent scream. Her cock blasts a long white stream of cum against her beloved bull.
The feeling of her clenching down on him, and feeling her spurting her cum all over his abs is too much. He slams as deep as he can, pushing himself up like a push-up, lifting his head and letting loose a long grunt of absolute expenditure. He groans as if his very soul is being slowly yanked out of his bellybutton. Her tiny white arms clasp around him, being lifted up in the air as her face buries in his neck.
"GET IT ALL IN ME!!! PUMP IT ALL IN ME!!!" she screams, pushing his body to pump more and more deep inside. She lifts her hips and tightens her thighs around his waist, trying to get as much as she can milk into her deepest parts. She likes to imagine this is making her pregnant right now. She shuts her red eyes, screaming another orgasm into his shoulder as a lazy stream of sperm spills out of her head. Down her balls, and soaking every inch of his dark chocolate shaft that's not already being milked inside her.
They both collapse to the floor, heaving for breath as if they almost died. Tiny red marks and a few dots of blood stain his back. His balls drip with her sperm, as does his abs and shaved pubic area. Her white sperm dribbles down his red-chocolate skin. She laughs weakly, kissing his ear. She feels the sloppy sperm she shot all over him spill against her tiny body, which is crushed under his.
"Ostrogothic sahne." [translationg: southern Goth/Austrian cream].
She giggles, as he tries to pull out and get off her. Her tiny white arms clench around him, as do her thighs.
"Nein....nein....wait...." she sighs. Too tired, he lays back down on top of her. Limp. She cherishes the feeling of being so small and crushed beneath his weight, while feeling his seed so deep. She slides her ivory fingers along his red-dotted back, making him wince.
They lay there in the middle of the floor, still connected like knotted dogs. Her pale thighs spread wide open and gently closing and releasing his waist, massaging and adoring his skin. She constantly kisses his face. William's heart feels a strong pang of attachment and love to her now. He kisses her soft, smooth neck. He meets her gentle, thin pink lips. They smile and laugh, still kissing and lost in each other's embrace. He tries to pull out again, but she won't let him.
"Hold me..." she whispers. His big arms wrap tight around her, making her groan and sigh with satisfaction. She buries her face in his neck and sighs loudly, lost in the fog of passion and endearment.
Amiria giggles, kissing his cheek and the sweat off of him. She pulls her hand to her face, and hungrily sucks her red-stained fingertips clean.
William's eyes blink hard, looking down at her now bright red eyes. She furiously slurps her fingers clean of any and all red stains.
"WHOAH!" he yells, trying to get off of her. She let's him go, as he hurriedly backs away.
While just getting to his feet, she rises up to hers straight off the floor, like a board being lifted from a laying down position to a standing one. No sit up. No bent knees. No nothing. As if a force under her back just lifts her straight up. Until the bottom of her feet are on the floor. As if she floated up. She slurps her red-stained pinky clean, as if starving to death and getting Cheeto cheese off. Her long tongue rolls out, lapping against her palm like a tentacle. A thin, clear needle, like a snake's tooth, pops out the tip. It glistens in the light, thin, sharp and reptilian almost.
She begins to walk towards him. Naked. Her flat chest, cum stained stomach, small limp penis, and feminine body... Seems to float forward. She's not walking on the ground. Her feet are inches above the floor. Her long, tawny hair seems to somehow float, as if she's underwater. Her eyes shine a bright blazing red. As if lit by flashlights. She smiles a wide, beautiful smile. Her tongue tip sticking out between her teeth. From the tip of it protrudes a long thin needle that pokes out the tip.
"What is the matter, my heart? Does something frighten you?"