Wednesday, April 25, 2012



This is one of two tales I have written this week for the Vamplit Blog's Fiction Friday. Blame the theme for this one on Wendy Howard. She dared me.

Optional Blindness

     Their gutteral sounds of ecstasy travel through the thin walls of the apartment complex, taunting me, drawing me into the game of earthly delights lying so near, yet so far away. Moans of delight talk to me, and the slurping sounds of bodily fluids flaying about, spreading the gentle musk of her sex through the sheet rock barrier, bring a taste of all that a woman is to my tongue.  

     Lying alone in my bed, naked to all who would see me if anyone were there, my hands reaches down and gently massages my manhood, already aroused and rock hard from the scintillating show of senses in the adjoining apartment. My hand moves in rhythm to the song played on the bed next door, reaching a crescendo as the opus reaches a climax, drawing me as well as them into heights of dizzying Nirvana. My seed erupts as if possessed, and spurts all over my abdomen and chest.

     So complete is the feeling of my ecstasy, that I merely lie there, in no hurry to remove the jizz from my body, even though a towel is close by at my disposal. Warmth radiates from my balls, through my dick, permeating all the nerve endings in my body.

     Finally, as time and the lessening of any new romantic interludes from my neighbors reaches my senses and allows me to reach a near normal state, I grab for the towel and remove the evidence of my masturbation love-fest.   

     Yes, this is not the pinnacle of sexual gratification, but it is the best I can muster for now. When one is blind, there are only so many options available. Who wants to make love with a blind guy? A blind woman, perhaps, but exactly how are they to meet, and even more importantly, how are they to set up a trysting point where they can share their feelings for one another?

     Questions with no answers.

     My mother always said I would go blind if I masturbated. I never paid her any heed until the day it actually happened. Her words were prophetic, but were brought to fruition by the savage beating she administered to me one night when she wandered into my room in a drunken stupor and pounded me senseless when she thought I was doing the forbidden deed. Blow after blow to my twelve year old head removed my vision. For good.

     Of course, she wasn't able to explain away why I had all at once become blind, and so they removed me from her care, and I was remanded to family member after family member, treated like a leper, a pariah shunned by everyone.

     One day, no more family: they all vanished. I was stuck in a children's home for the blind and taught the ways of survival when one no longer has eyes that function and can't show him the way.

     A funny thing happened, though. Sure, I couldn't see, but my other senses became so acute it no longer mattered. Other than the fact I couldn't read, except through Braille or audio books, I could do everything else a sighted person could do. But, I could sense that the others in the home were not adapting the way I was, and I felt it best not to let anyone know.

      This opened me up to developing my master plan, one that would allow me to extract revenge from my family. First my mother who had escaped imprisonment with a mere slap on the wrist, and then for the others who had left me out to hang and dry.

     Who would expect a man with no vision to execute a plan such as mine?

      It wasn't difficult to find my mother; her escapades and complete lack of morals followed her everywhere. Slut that she was, I found her in her bed alone one morning, still hung over from the previous night, the odor of cheap booze and thick musk hanging everywhere. Her lover had left, probably disgusted at what he found himself in bed with when he sobered up.

     "You were right, Mom, " I said when she woke up. "Masturbation does make you blind, but so does dirty, selfless sex, and you know what else?"

     "What?" she said trembling, knowing something . . .something not good was about to happen to her.

     "Being a fucking bitch!"

     Not able to see the look on her face, I was only able to thrill at the feel of her shaking, twisting body, and hear her cries for mercy as I shoved the knives into her eye sockets and held on until all movement from her stopped.

     Smiling, I took some crumpled  newspapers and started a fire, making her bed a giant ball of flame, a funeral pyre, specially made and designed by her loving son.

     "May you rot in Hell!" I said calmly as I left.

     Half a dozen fires later, and they were all gone, nothing left but ashes.

     And so I am here now; next door to what I can't have, but what I want so much. My mind tells me that my thoughts are wrong, evil, and that I should just let everything go. Yes, that's logic, yet normal reasoning does not work for me. Many's the time I have heard them poking fun of me when they thought I couldn't hear. But they never counted on a person with my powers, with my anger lurking just below the surface of what appeared to be merely a blind man, someone barely able to take care of himself.

     Waiting until I hear only peaceful, relaxed breathing in the apartment, I crawl out of bed , put on some pants, and without a sound, go next door and pick the lock, my acute sense of hearing allowing every little click sound like gunfire to me. He is lying on his side, away from her, and I deftly hold my hand over his mouth and nose until there is no more breath to come from him. It saddens me that he didn't put up any more resistance than he did, but at least his lover is still asleep, not knowing what is to come.

     I drag him off the bed and stash him underneath. Smiling, almost laughing, though I dare not for fear of waking her, I remove my pants and climb into bed next to her, my manhood facing her shapely buttocks. I gently lift her right leg up and shove my already hardened dick gently into her still moistened vagina. At first, she doesn't wake, enjoying the lovemaking, almost as if it is a wet dream.

     "Oh, my sweet one," I think, "This is indeed a sweet, moist dream."

     Still staying inside her from behind, I fondle her breasts and gently kiss her neck. She gradually wakes and reacts to my every move, thrusting back as I lunge forward.

     "Oh, my God!" she shouts out. "If anything, you're bigger and harder than you were before. Faster! Harder! Stay inside me! Cum like you've never cum before!"

     I do as she asks, hanging on to her, making sure our sweet union is not broken. We ride and ride, until we both explode in unison, and she is totally spent. She attempts to break our bond, but I hold her there, staying inside her, not allowing her to see me for who I really am. Sighing contentedly, she resists no more, and within minutes is fast asleep again.

     Waiting until I'm sure she won't wake, I ease my dick out of her moist piece of heaven and slide out of the bed. Reaching under the bed, I lift her already stiffening man and slide him next to her, put on my pants, and leave without waking her.

     Reaching the solitude of my room, I am content from my experience next door, but saddened as well. Once more, I am alone, but maybe, just maybe it doesn't mean I can't enjoy the best things in life.

     Masturbation may lead to blindness, but great sex can open one's eyes.

     Whether they can see or not . . .

Blaze McRob


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