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 Cannibal 4H Chapter 14: The Eyes Have It by Eurytion

   ANNELIESE SAT MOTIONLESS at her kitchen table, her eyes fixated on the
photograph in front of her.  A candid shot taken outside with a inexpensive
point and click camera, the composition was amateurish.  The subject was
too far to the right and part of his head was cut off.  But, to Anneliese,
the photo couldn't have been more entrancing if Anne Leibowitz had taken
it.

   The subject of the photograph was a gangly young man of medium height
leaning on a walking stick, his left foot wrapped in an elastic bandage. 
His multicolored shorts revealed thin, sinewy calves partitioned from the
more muscular upper thighs by a pair of knobby knees.  A fraying yellow
golf shirt covered a midriff with just a hint of baby fat showing.

   The face in the picture was nicely rounded with a sly, cherub-like smile
playing mischievously across its surface.  The beginnings of a moustache
sat scraggily above the Cupid's bow of his upper lip resembling the first
set of quills on a young porcupine.  A single mahogany curl drooped over
the left eyebrow while a dusting of fine freckles mottled the exposed
portions of his body.

   What was missing from the photo, thought Anneliese, was his intensity of
his eyes.  You could see them on either side of that simous nose but the
two-dimensional shot robbed them of their vitality, rendered them flat and
lifeless.  She had often lost herself in their gooseberry deeps which could
express more emotions than a knighted Shakespearian actor.

   They had met in a bathroom of all places and not even a coed one.  It
was at a football game.  The line into the women's room was 30 people deep
and moving at the speed of a glacier.  Anneliese couldn't wait any longer.
It was find a stall now or pee in her panties.

   Choosing the least embarrassing option, she had bulled her way into the
men's room and, with eyes adverted from the rows of men relieving
themselves at the troughs, burst into the first toilet that became
available, almost knocking down the departing occupant in her urgency.

   Her cheeks suffused with blood, Anneliese left the bathroom with as much
dignity as she could muster.  Moving at a quick but poised pace she strode
from the lavatory with her head held high, a bit too high because once
outside she stumbled over an unseen depression in the sidewalk.

   A pair of hands encircled her waist, keeping her from tumbling to the
concrete.  As she regained her balance she looked up directly into a pair
of animated greenish grey eyes alight with good humour.  Her pointed retort
at being grabbed mutated in her throat escaping as a quavery "oh, thank
you."

   "My pleasure," he said without a trace of irony, as his tapered fingers
released their steadying hold on her.  "Are you all right?"

   "I'm fine thank you.  I just was in a hurry and wasn't watching where I
was going."

   "I know.  That seems to be a problem with you today."

   "I beg your pardon?"

   "Hey, no need to beg.  I accept your apology."

   "You accept my apology?"

   "Sure, for running into me."

   "I didn't run into you.  All I did was trip.  You're the one who grabbed
me."

   "No, no, no, not out here.  In there."

   "In there?"

   "Yeh, back in the men's room.  I was coming out of the stall when you
sailed into me.  I just wish our linebackers could get by people that
fast."

   "That was you?"

   "That was me."

   "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to run into you.  It's just that I needed to,
well you know.  And I couldn't get into the women's room, the line was too
long.  I don't usually, no not usually, never, I've never gone into the
men's room before but it was either that or..."

   "Don't worry about it.  I've already accepted your apology."

   "You have?"

   "Sure that's how this conversation started, remember.  Any way, you're
not the first female to invade our sanctum sanctorum.  We get at least a
half dozen every game.  There's one who comes in twice or three times a
game.  The story is she's checking out everyone's equipment to find a
partner for a postgame celebration."

   A chill tone added frost to Anneliese's voice.  "Please be assured that
my purpose was not, as you put it, to `check out anyone's equipment.' My
visit was propelled by the simple need to relieve myself.  Nothing more and
nothing less."

   The young man's smile widened, his skin around his eyes crinkling as
they grew merrier.  "Believe me, I know that.  I've got the bruises to
prove it, remember?"

   "Of course, I'm sorry.  It's just that I'm embarrassed by the whole
thing."

   "I've already accepted your apology.  You don't strike me as the
cringing, obsequious type.  No need to say you're sorry again." "So if I'm
not the cringing, obsequious type, what type am I," asked Anneliese
curiously.

   "Ah, a dare from the lady.  Never let it be said that The Great
Sebastian failed to answer a challenge."

   "The Great Sebastian?"

   "Yep, that's me, Sebastian Poole.  My mom named me after the Cornel
Wilde character in The Greatest Show on Earth.  My dad said it was
prophetic, that somehow even back then she knew I'd be taking risks like a
high wire artist."

   "And do you?"

   "Do I what?"

   "Take risks?"

   "Sure, what's life without risks?  I'm taking one just now talking to
you.  If I say the wrong thing, you'll turn around and walk away,
dismissing me as a buffoon.  But if I say the right thing..."

   "If you say the right thing?"

   "Then a whole new universe of possibilities opens up for us.  Who knows
what might happen.  But enough procrastination, it's time to spin the
wheel. Just one question before I start, what is thy name oh fair maiden?"

   "Ann.  Ann Dracon."

   "Buzz, sorry wrong answer," said Sebastian.  "What's your real name?"

   "That's it, Ann Dracon, that's my real name," she replied beginning to
wonder if he wasn't just a buffoon after all.  What kind of person goes
around calling themselves the Great Sebastian?

   "Nope, Dracon is your last name all right.  But Ann has to be the
diminutive of your first name.  I think your full first name has to be
longer, more poetic but not trendy.  Angela isn't right, you'd call
yourself Angel or Angie.  Annette is too Mickey Mouse Club/Beach Blanket
Bingoish.  You don't strike me as an Annette.  It's got to be something
like Annabel, Anika or maybe Anthea.  Come on, fess up.  What is it?

   "Anneliese," she said unaccountably pleased by his deduction.  Maybe
there's more here than I thought.  "But only my family can call me that. 
To everyone else I'm Ann."

   "Interesting construction of that last sentence.  Very revealing you
know.  Most people would have said only my family calls me that.  You said
only your family can call you that.  Well, Ann Dracon I want you to look
deep into my eyes while I delve into your innermost secrets.  But first,
let's step over here, out of the way of this crowd."

   With a small start, Anneliese noticed that they were still standing
almost directly in the path of the men and boys leaving the bathroom,
forcing the line of exiting males to walk around them.  Sebastian took her
hands in his and gently pulled her aside.  When they had cleared the
pathway, Sebastian let go of her right hand and reached up to adjust her
face slightly upwards until their eyes met.

   Regaining his grip on both hands he gave her an appraising look, his
eyes seeming to measure her very existence.  Sphinxlike he continued his
examination.  Just when Anneliese thought she should pull away, Sebastian
gave a insolent wink and released her hands which fell limply to her sides.

   "OK, what type of women is Ann Dracon?  Well, to start with Ann Dracon
is smart, very smart and she knows it.  She's organized, neat as the
proverbial pin, believes that cleanliness might not be right next to
godliness but it isn't too far away.  A real `place for everything and
everything in it's place' person.  And that includes people.

   She's scrappy and determined, almost like a terrier in that regard. 
Once she gets that rag in her mouth she's going to shake it until it gives.
Very iron willed.  Resolute almost to a fault.

   "The face she reveals to the world isn't always the real her.  She's
like an iceberg, 7/8ths of her is below the water line where it can't be
seen.  She likes people, enjoys company but doesn't like to get too close
to any one individual and doesn't let any one individual get too close to
her.  She's outgoing but part of that extroversion is a role she plays.  I
sense she does a lot of role playing to cover up who she really is.  Inside
she's a private person, very reserved, often uncertain.

   "Despite that control, I think there is a very deep and real hunger
there, a longing to experience, almost to consume her surroundings, to
touch, taste, feel everything.  Any one who does break through that
protective wall is going to have their hands full."

   My god, thought Anneliese, who is this guy?  Is he a stalker?  Has he
been following me?  How does he know these things?

   "I sense not quite emptiness," Sebastian went on all the while gauging
her reactions to his revelations with a penetrating eye, "but a waiting for
something, maybe a need to find a purpose in life, something bigger than
herself to believe in and to work toward.  She's got real leadership
qualities inside her.  If she had been a male back in the 10th century
she'd have been a crusader with the Teutonic Knights.  If she did have any
previous lives she was probably a suffragette in the 1910's.

   "That's not to say she's perfect.  Even with that sense of restraint
sometimes she wears her emotions a little too close to the skin, gets too
agitated at the little things too quickly.  She has a tendency to
pigeonhole people, more of that `everything in it's place' syndrome but
she's intelligent enough to recognize this tendency and reevaluate based on
new information.  She doesn't suffer fools gladly.

   "Even though she tells herself she doesn't need anyone, she knows she
lying.  She's looking for a partner, someone to have a relationship with
that will be as lasting as diamonds, someone who will help her get settled
in the right place like a pillow on a sofa.  As independent as she is,
there's a part of her that wants to place herself under someone else's
complete control.  This part of her wants to be mastered but only by
someone with whom there is mutual love, affection and emotional trust, who
knows she's special and significant and who respects and values her and the
gift of her submission."

   Anneliese began to feel like she was swaying on the edge of a promontory
during a raging storm, the beating in her chest imitating the thunder of
the ocean breaking on the rocks below.  He's right.  I'm like a story he
knows by heart.

   "There's really only one more thing I know for sure about Ann Dracon."

   "What's that," asked Anneliese struggling mightily to maintain that
reserve Sebastian had so rightly identified.

   "Her favourite food is shrimp."

   That simple statement, "her favourite food is shrimp," jolted Anneliese
from her reverie like a shot of black expresso.

   "Now how would you know that?"

   Sebastian beamed like a little boy who had just found a red bicycle
under the Christmas tree.  He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a
piece of paper and handed it to Anneliese.  It was a half off coupon for
the "all you can eat" shrimp dinner at Captain Joe's Seafood Wharf.

   "You dropped this when you bumped into me in the bathroom."

   A month later, in a small room whose walls danced with the shimmering
bands of butterscotch and tortoiseshell luminescence cast by flickering
candles, they made love for the first time.

   Tenderly, as though dealing with a wild and frightened animal, Sebastian
set out to calm Anneliese's disquiet.  With slow, precise movements he
underdressed her, matching the removal of each layer of her clothing with
the discarding of his own, inviting but not commanding her participation in
the unfolding of events.

   Sebastian's unhurried demeanour demonstrated the consensual nature of
their undertaking, saying without words to Anneliese that we'll proceed at
your pace, act only when you are ready, go only as far as you want to go.

   Her muscles, as tense as though stricken by tetanus, had relaxed and
softened under the delicate ministrations of his hands, their gentle
kneading gradually bringing out a more urgent needing in her.  The anxiety
that had coursed through her body like an electric current had changed as
if it had been run through a transformer, fear of what was about to happen
converted into anticipation.

   Fingers pressed her flesh more firmly, their growing pressure
communicating that Sebastian shared in her spiralling excitement.  His lips
descended on her open mouth, bruising her lips against her teeth.  Their
tongues duelled like a pair of lingual sabres; thrust, parry,
counterthrust, surrender.

   As the kiss was broken, Sebastian ran his hands in small circles down
Anneliese's chest until they reached her upthrust breasts, his teeth
nibbling at her ears and neck.  Anneliese moaned as he rasped his
fingernails across her erect nipples, their pebbled surface imitating
crinkled thimbles.

   The young boy lowered his mouth to her tits, alternating sucking and
chewing on their heaving surface.  His hand moved down to toy with the hair
above her mound, a spicy smell emerging to perfume the air as his thumb
rubbed vigorously against her clitoris.  Anneliese could feel the lips of
her labia unfolding like a chaise lounge on a warm summer afternoon.

   Arousal began to overwhelm the last remnants of Anneliese's reserve. 
Her nails dug into Sebastian's back, gouging their way south from shoulders
to a tight pair of buttocks, leaving bright red furrows in their wake. 
Then, with a move as sudden as a salmon surmounting a dam, Anneliese body
arched upward throwing Sebastian back.

   She grabbed Sebastian's face in both hands and peered intently into his
eyes, the green orbs reflecting back not only her own concupiscence , but a
admixture of compassion, concern and commitment.

   "I'm a virgin," she said simply.

   "So am I," replied Sebastian, his eyes growing serious as he bent his
mouth toward hers.

   Releasing her hold, Anneliese laid back down on the mattress, her legs
spreading to make room between them for a knelling Sebastian.  Her arms
reaching out for him as he stretched his lanky body over hers.  Both bodies
trembled as they made contact.

   With one hand Anneliese widened her already parted pussy, the other
firmly grasping Sebastian's pulsing manhood, hot and slick to the touch. 
Using her own fingers she carefully slipped him inside her, like a boat
gliding into its slip.

   Gentle thrusting gave way to more forceful action as he battered against
her resistant hymen.  She pushed back with equal vigour, wanting, needing
to feel fulfilment.  She felt the tear as he burst through, marking her
passage from maiden to woman.  Hearing her short, sharp exhalation of pain,
he stopped, unwilling to go on until her the movement of her hips reassured
him, drawing him deeper, urging faster and faster movement.

   A sense of frenzy engulfed their lovemaking, the sheer eager excitement
of their first joining overcoming any clumsiness.  Touching, stroking,
devouring each other, the sounds of their passion filled the air like a
sensual symphony composed for an orchestra of two.

   Their orgasms came on them suddenly, an accident at the busy
intersection of their bodies.  Sebastian felt as though he was exchanging
his soul for another's while Anneliese felt like her very body had burst
into a rapturous bonfire, the flames climbing to the highest heavens.

   Savouring their newly created union, they came out of their mutual
trance slowly like skin divers pausing in their ascent to avoid the bends.
No words passed between them as they continued to caress each other with
languorous feather light touches.  Words were unnecessary now and would
even distract from the moment.  Their silence had a frequency all its own,
the quiet broadcasting their understanding of the true meaning of what had
just happened.

   They fell asleep in each other's arms, a pair of mummies entwined in the
wrappings of love, the true murmuring of their hearts guiding their way
into their dreams.