RITUALS OF THE ANTITHETICAL Reading: "Sibyl of Doom" from the novel Rituals of the Antithetical (A.Glass 2023)

 

“Ah...Fuck me! That’s it...Ah...Harder...Deeper,” she says, in between shortened breaths, with each reprising moan affected by the plunging of his cock. She arches her lower back, as he fondles her breasts, maintaining his persistent fucking, with both hands squeezing around her sensitive breasts and nipples. Turning her head to the right, she kisses the man fucking her from behind. With both of them breathing heavily, Kinsman closes her eyes, as he holds her buttocks with both hands, looking down at his penis bathed in Kinsman’s elixir. She feels the onset of her orgasm gathering within her pelvis and vulva, that exquisite feeling of her vagina tightening around his hardened cock, squeezing its length. The man holds his penis deep, leaning his head back, as he seconds away of releasing his creamy seed within Kinsman’s vagina.
With a loud moan, Kinsman releases the intensity of her orgasm in successive waves of pleasure, falling forward onto the seating of the chair, with the man behind her thrusting in one final movement as he ejaculates his pent up load, yelling out, while Kinsman’s reaches her own apex of bliss. Opening her eyes, she stares into the room, its darkened shadows and shapes are all of nothing but a white wash, blank, void and empty. She remains alone in the orgasmic lethe, while her sexual euphoria begins to abate. Blinking in a calm manner, whilst catching her breath, the white light disappears and the dimly lit interior of her lounge room returns to its normal fixture.

*

“The poliovirus has been detected in New York Waste water, this is the second time in two weeks, as officials are trying to determine if the virus has been circulating throughout New York City. If so, it would mean that hundreds of New Yorkers could already be infected and if they’re unvaccinated, maybe spreading the virus to the wider population…

Standing on the corner of Broad and Wall Street, Essy Zabel looks down at her phone studying the latest news reports, with her small backpack affixed, wearing a pair of high hemmed navy shorts and a dark green cropped jersey hoodie. She turns her attention to the many celebrities who are arriving for the runway show within the New York Stock exchange.

“That’s Cathy Conway the actress”, Zabel remarks to herself, whilst watching the actress entering the security area for invited celebrities. Admiring the skin tight all black dress which hugs her curves, Zabel stares at the woman’s visible nipples beneath the fabric. Smiling in an aroused manner, Zabel looks at her wristwatch, seeing that she needs to attend the fitting in five minutes. Checking her phone again, she studies other news reports, briefly looking up at the skyline as it it becomes overcast, turning to the right she eyes the stock exchange.
“Better go inside”
Making her way through the security checkpoints and onto the entry to the main entrance of the stock exchange, Zabel looks around at the early Nineteen Hundred’s interior, walking pass one the large granite pillars that line the inside of entrance, she touches it with her right index finger. A powerful resonation in this place. I do have a legacy here, dismissing the thoughts of Zabel’s personal history within this famous landmark, not willing to impinge the ghosts of the past. Rather, she knows that a later mediation must be carried out to ensure that the spectres of the antecedent have not been disturbed. She walks onward towards another security checkpoint, viewing other models entering the impromptu backstage area.
“Essy!” A man’s voice is heard, as she turns in the direction of a man walking quickly towards her. Shorter than Zabel wearing a dark brown fitted tank top, with visible tattoos on his arms, hands and around his neck.
“Hi Trevor,” Zabel replies, as they both embrace.
“My favorite model...No virus here sweetie,” he says in a coy manner.
“Me neither gorgeous, I had to upload the test before arriving. Of course, it came in negative,” Zabel says, tilting her right thumb downward, while smiling at the man.
“Yeah and that’s really worked out...,” the man replies in a sardonic way, as he and Zabel walk in the direction of the fitting area. He turns, looking at Zabel, “...No one’s checking the results.”
“It’s all a token entry. What is negative is positive, and what is positive is negative.”
“An Essy riddle! Yeah, like everything these days, it’s a token world...anyways, you called me ‘gorgeous’. Wow! Did Essy also get laid last night?”
“I wish, but I took psychedelic truffles last night, danced at a local club and shot somebody,” Zabel replies with a grin, without looking at the man, as they both walk towards the fitting area. Filled with assistants and the models, who are trying on their assigned outfits for the show.
The man, on his tippy toes, leans his head onto Essy’s left shoulder. “I love your sense of humor.”
Zabel nears where a board of Polaroids are located, which shows an image of each model wearing their designated attire.

___

Reading:  "SIBYL OF DOOM" from RITUALS of the ANTITHETICAL (A.Glass 2023)