Adam, on sacred grounds, unearths the past with Lily (chapter LXII)

The trip Kawamoto Kihachiro

Lily had led me in a clearing in the jungle and that was a first since she had, along with May Linh, signed old Mr. Me’s contract. Indeed, maybe to break the routine that was established in my house by the beach in this Southeastern Asian country, Lily had decided that she was old Mr. Me’s last opportunity to explore secret grounds where I had never dared to adventure myself before. So there we were, in the woods, and only the bugs were our witnesses.

“Ok, listen,” Lily said. “When I was a kid, my only refuge was the toilet. Taking a piss was hygiene, taking a shit was my time. One time, I had found in one of the neighbor’s mailbox a Japanese basketball magazine, those being among the few foreign magazines that were authorized in the country, and that’s how I learned of Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls. The toilet was the only place where I could be alone and read, and the only thing I found worth reading, other than the party propaganda, were those Japanese sports magazines I stole from my neighbor. And I knew I felt a special pleasure when, alone at last, I was about to defecate, that moment when a solid shit was opening my anus and I was letting myself go in abandon to nature itself and reading about Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls. That’s when I started to learn English with May Linh because I was told there was this lady teaching English for free to poor kids and I wanted to learn English so I’d know more about Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls and Chicago and America.”

And there we were, in the middle of the jungle, in a clearing. She was nude of course, save for her red rubber boots, next to a mighty tree. She pulled me next to her. Few months ago, before I had met Lily, I would have been in a panic in such a situation. Indeed I didn’t know what to do but Lily was in charge and I trusted her.

She guided my hand on her breasts, then through her belly, then through her Venus mount, then through her bum eye. She had her legs bent and she was arching her back. And as I went through a gamahuche – this I knew how to do – I could feel she was ready and what she was ready for.

“Look,” she said, “I know you don’t only want to watch really, I know what it is you want and which you cannot express, even to me.”

Again, she was reading my mind and it was uncanny and I guess she knew right from the beginning where she wanted to lead me.

“Ok, Mr. You, watch,” she said, “and just when you see my anus open, that’s when you come in.”

Come in? What? How would I do that? Yet, somehow, Lily gave me confidence and sure enough, in my tongs in the jungle, old Mr. Me was starting to feel like a man again.

It’s funny how memories comes back once you’re old, what you remember, what you forgot. Gamahuching Lily and still not daring to anticipate what was coming, it reminded me of an older story. I was a young man in Paris and at the time I was living on a boat on the river Seine. And that was a good plan to get girls. “Yeah,” I’d say, “I live in a boat right downtown Paris” and the girls seemed to just love the idea. Fact is, I just had a little cabin on that boat.

Anyway, that day I was in my little cabin with those two girls, one French white girl, one French Arab girl. I had met them once before, sharing and shooting heroin. And when I came upon them in the metro that day, they recognized me, we chatted and they followed me to my boat. Well it wasn’t my boat but that’s where I lived. So we ended up in my cabin.

I was a young man back then and there was no birth control. The three of us were on the bed, naked, exciting each other. I was fucking the Arab girl, the sexiest, and, when she felt I was going berserk, she pulled me out and led me to her bumhole and that’s where I ejaculated. In fact, ass fucking, those years, was sometimes used as a mean of birth control and I understood later that this was the way for a lot of Arab girls to preserve their virginity while going out.

For them, indeed, no virginity meant formidable violence from their own kinds I knew and I met a bunch of Arab girls that were more terrified by their brothers and fathers than by being fucked in the ass. And I knew this wasn’t a 100% proof birth control system but, for those Arab girls, it was all that they had.

So, ok, this was great, and in my cabin I just had a good ass fuck and now the French white girl was ready but she had her period and had a tampon plugging her pussy so, as I saw that round eye of hers asking for it, I couldn’t help myself and went for an ‘encore’.

And boy did she like it and did I like it. I’m quite sure, today that Mr. Me is old, that heroin had a lot to do with it, but that day, that French woman, fucked up on heroin to be sure, let it all go. See, when you’re fucking a woman in the ass, she’s usually in control; even if she cums, she won’t shit on you, that’s not going to happen. But that one day, again I’m sure heroin helped, this girl just let it go and I saw her having an orgasm like I’ve seen no other woman having one like that since. That was total abandon. Her Arab friend was a bit disgusted but I wasn’t because I could tell how good she felt and I knew how I felt.

It never happened to me again and I thought that was a freak occurrence, a dope head occurrence. Later, in New Orleans notably, and no one had heard of AIDS at the time, I saw in some funky clubs guys wanting to be pissed on – the famous golden shower – or shit on by women, or other guys. I was never interested. I had kept a good souvenir of the French girl but never had a chance to try it again. More precisely, I never dared mentioning this to anyone.

And there was Lily now. And I understood.

So I figured I was doing this just as much for her as I was doing it for me, and my dick was hard now and she had turned around and indeed, just as I saw her anus open, just as I saw the color of her shit just about to come out, when she was in utter abandon, that’s when I penetrated her and it was soft and warm and easy and she had a little cry that made me feel like I was Tarzan or something.

Then a frantic state came over me and her. At some point I even worried that this could hurt her, that I would blow an intestine or something. But I knew she knew her body very well. Lily had no restraint whatsoever and her butt was smeared and it was weird and crazy but I liked the sensation. It didn’t last long because we both cum very quickly.

Then she squatted and I watched her excreting all the matter that was still in there and it was weird to see her shit mixed with my sperm. And she took a piss as well.

“Whaow, that was something,” she said, smiling. “Did you like it?”

Did I like it?

For Christ sake, I liked it so much I was sure now my soul would be damned. See, the guilt will kill you, unless you resist I guess.

Then it occurred to me that this scatological desire, embed deep in me, was probably a sign of regression. Then again, getting old is regressing I thought. Indeed, while old Mr. Me was back to pipi caca, I realized that young Lily was like a mother to me while older May Linh was more like a benevolent sister. So I guess, regressing to fundamental instincts, I was fucking my mother and my sister. Let the psychiatrists deal with that. And I had a fleeting thought about the prune effect.

Then Lily took some leaves and cleaned her butt and my dick some. Then we walked back, she dropped her boots in the garden shack and we went directly through the beach in the water. I could hear May Ling was still playing the piano – we couldn’t have been gone very long – and she was probably oblivious of what Lily and I had been doing. We swam to the sandbar and once there, Lily washed me up first then washed herself, although the swimming had already cleaned up most of it.

Then she threw her legs around my waist, like May Linh would do, and I gave her a quick gamahuche, finding out inside her that everything seemed like before, seemed normal and it was as if we hadn’t done anything. Which goes to show that nothing couldn’t be done, sex wise, that a good shower – or in this case a formidable ocean – couldn’t clean up. So I felt proud because I thought that somehow I had been courageous.

So we did that again once in a blue moon. And we tried other things but nothing as spectacular. Indeed, I didn’t have that many fantasies, other than this love for women’s ass. I didn’t like violence, neither on me nor on a woman – I’ve never beat a woman in my whole life, nor any of my kids, not even my dogs! And I wasn’t a control freak either: I know some guys want to feel that they control the woman or that they own her, and some women like that I’m sure, but it wasn’t for me. Plain consent and desire was enough for me. So I guess that limited pretty much my imagination field.

Then again, I was getting plenty of attention, including sexual attention, from both Lily and May Linh so there was no frustration of any kind and sex became not essential, not even that important after a while.

What was important is the fact that old Mr. Me, May Linh and Lily had found a balanced way of living and there was now something very nice and sweet in the way we were together: no hiding, no bullshit, no petty rancor. We trusted each other and there was a lot of affection, at least, for one another. For me, these feelings were getting pretty close to what I would have called love in a former life.

At last I started to feel some kind of peace and I was pretty happy just to be with them and being able to ogle them all day and I would still find them beautiful and I was never tired to see them and be with them. And the swimming of course.

Ellar Wise

Next episode: Adam and the animals farm
Previous episodeLily probes Adam’s secret thoughts

Wanna know more? Drop a mail at

Iconography : The trip by Kawamoto Kihachiro, as found on Aidy Reviews


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s