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Second Missy Story
He was short in stature from what she could see, and rather muscular. He had the thick, strong arms that come with a life of intense physical activity, and a neck that seemed to be as thick around as one of the small tree trunks that lay prone all around the edges of the camp. She wondered if that same thickness was a general rule in regards to other more enjoyable areas of his physique. She walked over to this prone figure with a spring in her step and a bit of anticipation in her eyes. She had not come all this way to be disappointed. She would have her fun, whether this man was able to remember the occasion afterwords or not.
She reached the man and found him to have a particularly unpleasant aroma. Something like bad whiskey and old eggs. This captured her fancy, and she felt her nether regions get wet, and stood still for a moment to enjoy the liquid trickling down her thigh. She forced a snarl onto her smiling face, and she kicked the soused lumberjack in the groin, hard. "Get up you wet little git. I think you've had enough of that sauce. Get your head up and take a look at what you've been missing."
The man groaned. He rolled up into a little ball and a bit of blood trickled out of a nose laced with burst capillaries. "What t' hell? What t' bloody hell? Must be more drunk then I though'. Could' swore up an' down that I heard a woman screeching in my poor ol' throbbing ear. Musta been a nigh'mare."
He sat on his well formed bottom and rubbed his eyes. He had not yet noticed Madam Contrary standing like a angry thunder cloud promising to dump rain over his throbbing head. She lifted her finely sculpted leg and placed her dainty pointed shoe heel onto the nape of his sweat, clammy skinned neck. Since he was still rather drunk and sitting in an awkward fashion it took nothing more then a small shove to tip him over like an over watered flower pot. "You may have dreamed up a certain type of woman, but I am worse then any one of your most vile nightmares. That being said I am also more luscious, virile, and ductile then any of your most fevered fantasies. Wake up unto me lumberjack."
The man scrambled to his knees and turned to face Madam. He was immediately struck by her almost unfathomable beauty. But there was something dark about her. She seemed to cast shadow upon shadow, and the birds grew quite quiet in the boughs above her well coiffed raven hair. She did indeed seem to be a creature spawned from a cold and lonely nights dream. He thought of Charlotte for a moment... a woman who was cut of a more homespun cloth. Here he was longing, his eyes languishing in the folds of a vision bedecked in the most seductive fleshly satin. His heart was stilled as though by the hand of Thanatos, wrestling the pulsation from the warm hollow of his chest. Her eyes where a element that he would come to curse, an emotion caged in an orb of green and white. Words of praise and supplication slipped from his lips far before his better judgment could catch a hold of them. "Oh bles' me for I must indeed be in the presence o' a dark angel. What strange brew was I truly drinking that I would dream alive a bein' such as ye? What are you doin' in this shabby section o' the country wood?"
Contrary laughed that laugh that sent such terrible shivers up weak mens spines. It was credit to the drunken man that he did not feel that haunting quiver. "I am no angel woodsman. I am a woman seeking pleasure in the mortal realm. I grew bored with my temporary celibacy (a vow I take every now and then in order to preserve the exhilaration of the act of copulation) and this morning I headed out to seek someone with whom to share my passions. I saw your camp and I felt a certain wickedness inherent to this clearing. To find you prone confirmed my feeling and my perhaps my desires. You certainly must know how to have a good time."
The man ran a dirty hand through his hair, greasy and strewn with dead grass and crispy leafs.