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                                  Katya

A Kiss Goodnight

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

   The serpent was wiser than all the animals in Paradise. And he
   persuaded Eve, saying "On the day when you eat from the tree
   which is in the midst of Paradise, the eyes of your mind will be
   opened." And Eve obeyed: she ate, and also gave to her husband.

        Testimony of Truth, Nag Hammadi Library

   After exactly eleven minutes had passed, (and here, you thought I
   had no self-control!) I realized that the hour had arrived. There
   was no rational choice, other than to go up. I had to. Part of
   being a good babysitter, which I was learning about from the
   Imbecile's Book of Babysitting. I had tried the "For Dummies"
   volume, and the "Idiot's Guide," but I had found out the hard way
   that I was neither a Dummy nor an Idiot, but rather an Imbecile.
   These distinctions can be critical for ensuring compatibility
   with one's reading material.

   First off, I had to ensure that the little angels were snoring
   correctly. Second, as thoroughly explicated in the "Imbecile's
   Guide," a good babysitter ought to be concerned that an al-Quaida
   terrorist operative might have stolen into the childrens' room in
   the velvety blackness of the night, and was at this very moment
   in the midst of sinister whispers indoctrinating the poor sweet
   innocents on tenets of Islam, the subtleties of suicide bombing,
   and the evils of cartooning.

   Now, the very thought of cartoon-deprived little girls, I found
   simply too heart-wrenching for my mind to bear. So for the sake
   of Sponge-Bob, Garfield, and the Power Puff Girls, I steeled my
   nerves to fulfill my patriotic duty and bravely defend the noble
   principles of democracy upon which our great country is founded.

   Swiftly I rose. Snapping shut Monsieur Hugo and divesting my feet
   of shoes for the sake of stealth, I began the cautious ascent to
   the realm of the unknown.

   The staircase to the second floor had two flights, separated by a
   landing between the first and second floor, from which the upper
   set of stairs proceeded in the opposite direction from the lower
   set. The stairs were covered in carpet with a pearly grey pattern
   running through it. The balustrade was wooden, the bottom rungs
   painted white but the railing left open wood grain with simple
   clear varnish.

   With the sleek svelte silence of a ninja, I stole up the
   staircase, slowly in sinuous serpentine steps. On my arrival
   midway at the landing, I paused to regroup, listening closely for
   possible telltale noises from the room of the two girls. The
   hairs inside my ear standing on end, my eardrums pricked up for
   even the faintest intimation of what dangers might lurk ahead.

   Faintly, I heard a cry, "Uuuh!"

   A damsel in distress! The plaintive wail was inflected with a
   desperate immediacy, rising in pitch toward the end with powerful
   emotion, drawn out of the soul. What species of wicked tormentor
   could elicit such an elocution from a frail innocent?

   Pricking up again my ears, I heard it again: "Uuuuh!" It sounded
   like Katya. Obviously, she was in trouble of some sort! I must
   plunge to the rescue. But still with the utmost of cautelous
   self-reserve, I stole cleverly as a black-clad martial artist
   with spiderlike paces, listening all the while.

   The cry repeated again and again with rhythmic regularity. Her
   oppressor displayed no mercy, and continued remorselessly and
   repeatedly inflicting dreadful punishment on the poor victim.

   One time, the wordless cry was replaced with an even more intense
   "Oh God!" and tears leapt to my eyes as I pictured Jesus on the
   cross, imploring "Why have you forsaken me?"

   No, Katya, God has not forsaken you! For He has sent me, your
   brave rescuer, now poised on the steps beneath your chamber of
   lamentation, gathering courage to penetrate the lion's den and
   deliver you from your agony.

   Surely, a medallion of honor from the department of Homeland
   Security would ensue.

   But first, I must strategize! Furiously my mind worked. Spinning
   gears crunched and shattered teeth as I pursued my gradual
   ascent, while meanwhile the cries accelerated and rose in pitch
   until they reached a crescendo that melted all into a single cry
   of "Oh!" (or maybe it was "Ah!" in which case the reader will
   hopefully forgive the inaccuracy of my rendering), ending with
   the staccato-punctuated words "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

   The severity of brutishness I could only imagine taking place
   behind that closed door threw me back into a fit of horror. The
   remaining steps mocked me with grinning petulance, embroiled in
   invisibly alluring hellish flames of wanton puerility.

   I fought with every ounce of my willpower the hideous strength of
   those defeatist Satanic forces of fear, spurred on by the
   repeated lament of my beloved as it commenced once again. I
   bolstered my will, mustered my bravery, and peppered my spicy
   imaginings with multicolored sprinklets of blessed sweet holy
   water.

   Fear not, my love. Salvation is at hand! I now met eye to eye
   with the unblinking gaze of the sleek brass doorknob, its curved
   lines glistening, beckoning. With the deliberation of a glacier,
   I twisted, tenaciously torquing with tantalizing temerity.

   A crack of blackness. A blast of warm sweet-scented sex slunk
   like a stiletto zephyr, stinging my nostrils. Formerly
   door-muffled rustling of sheets stirred as the perpetrators of
   passion persisted unrelentingly.

   As my eyes adjusted in phases to the twilight gloom within the
   room, I could make out the contorted bodies of two young girls
   arrayed atop the rightmost of the two twin beds.

   The undulations of Katya's curvacious crescent moon arched over
   the place of pillows, her slender torso splayed out facing
   pressed against the wall, a hand apiece on the knobs atop the
   outer bedposts of the headboard. On the pillows beneath lay the
   head of her little sister, tongue licking upwards with the fiery
   whips of electric doom.

   Shades of crepuscular grey revealed too, the form of Nicole, the
   little one, lying face up beside the line of stuffed animals on
   the bed, knees to the ceiling, legs spread wide apart to present,
   directly facing me, the delicious lower lips with which I had
   become acquainted earlier. Oh, how those silent lips sweetly
   called out to the animalistic drive in my loins, and I found
   myself magnetized like a compass needle to the point of previous
   pleasure.

   Young Nicole saw me and winked, beckoning me closer for the
   rescue. But when I arrived, the little betrayer yanked down my
   shorts to reveal the treasonous fortification that had been
   straining against the elastic, now straightening into a needle
   tip yearning to ply its sharpness into some soft and moist
   receiving dock.

   "Kat, look! Did I win or what?"

   Katya looked around and recoiled at first in shock, then
   collapsing into a fit of giggles, lying next to her sister on the
   bed. "I guess you won."

   "Won what?" I demanded to know, meanwhile fascinated by
   anatomical details I had never witnessed before, on the pale side
   of Katya's sweet swimsuit line. The bare smooth vein of rubies
   and roses below her belly-button, so wonderfully a vacancy in
   front of me.

   Katya began, but her words dissolved into a torrent of giggles.
   "She wanted me to, you know. I can't. You tell him!"

   "Why? It was your idea!" retorted Nicole.

   "You're the one who wanted me to lick your tart little pussy."
   said Katya.

   "And you're the one who made it impossible by making up a rule
   about that you had to have a man inside of you first, so you
   wouldn't be a total lezzie. Well here he is, now you gotta pay
   up."

   "I feel like I should say something here. . ." I began.

   "Don't!"

   "Just keep your mouth shut while we work this out."

   I have learned that its best to always do what ladies tell me to.

   "But I don't want him in my pussy," continued Katya, "Because
   then I wouldn't be a virgin any more."

   "He could go into your butt."

   Katya smiled. "That could be kinda fun."

   "Can I at least have a taste of it?" I asked, hypnotized by the
   ruffled curls of her beautiful vagina.

   A devilish smile spread across Katya's face. She spread her legs
   open towards me. I clambored up onto the bed, and soon my face
   was immersed in the sticky warmth of her soft flower, tasting her
   juices mixed with her sister's saliva.

   I felt the sharpness of my needle surrounded by refreshing
   softness, and looked down to see Nicole kissing and sucking on my
   ever-hardening dagger. I could have come right there, but held
   back a while to enjoy being stretched and plucked like a taut
   string across the merciless bow of the sister harmonies.

   After a while, Nicole disengaged with a smack, and grinned. "Ok
   now, sis. Pay up!"

   Katya wound up the last of her plaintive cries and sighed. "First
   I want him inside of me." She got on her hands and knees, butt
   pointing upwards.

   This operation took some delicate manipulation. First, some time
   between Katya's lips, making love to her firm and smooth childish
   face helped firm my resolve.

   Then a bottle of lotion nearby turned out to be handy, and
   together Nicole and I took turns anointing the curved contours of
   Katya's buttcrack, until it was ready for action. I slid the
   point up and down until it found its mark and settled in. Then we
   began to gradually push together, until I worked my way partially
   inside.

   "Doesn't hurt?" I worried.

   "No, feels great!"

   "She likes to play with sticking stuff up there," explained
   Nicole.

   I shoved harder into her forbidden nasty region, until I was in
   up nearly to the hilt.

   "Ok, Nikki. Now come here," said Katya.

   I watched the two sisters kiss with sensuously loving delicacy
   and affection. There was Katya, with me in her butt and her warm
   mouth on her sister's lips.

   The sensation surrounding my sexual organ was intense. I had to
   keep driving forward to remain indoors, while I watched the girl
   I was inside lower her beautiful face to lap my semen from the
   hole of her wonderful little sister.

   Now Nicole sat on the pillows and leaned her back against the
   headboard, opening her flower to the heavenly tongue that curled
   forth from her sister's taut, smooth young lips.

   Nicole threw back her head, opening her mouth to the sky with
   blissful abandon, as she trembled and moaned at the first touch
   of her sister's tongue, and each prodding of the pink pearl
   thereafter. Faint tremors through her tiny body built higher and
   higher.

   I nibbled on Nicole's penny-sized areolae, alternating from one
   to the other, as Katya dribbled and tongued her tiny vagina, and
   meanwhile I felt my fullness inside the dirty bathroom-hole of
   the sleek eleven-year old, enjoying the dance of her butt pushing
   and pulling against my pelvic thrusts.

   Nicole bent down and found my mouth with hers, as the tremors
   grew, and finally came one which siezed her whole body with
   ecstatic electricity, as Katya relentlessly continued her
   delicate probing the oozing of my essence from the tiny aperture.

   The electric potential jumped the fence, across the connection of
   tongues between me and the smaller girl, and with profound loving
   care I thrust myself deeply in for release inside of her older
   sister. At its deepest point, I slowed to complete stillness
   inside of her, frozen for a blissful moment in time, followed by
   the wonderful letting go of warm drops into the raunchy cavern of
   my delicious innocent.

   Waves of electrical spasms swept joyfully through my entire body,
   up and down my spine, from head to toe, again and again surges of
   pleasure consummating my infinite love for my two precious
   beauties, before I collapsed like a pillar of salt crumbling into
   a granulated heap of inert powder sandwiched on the bed between
   two cozy warm bodies: one still seeping the sticky gifts of my
   penetration, the other still a virgin.

   Energy well-spent for the noble sake of the founding principles.

   Lying there, it occurred to me that my favorite part of
   babysitting was being able to spend this sort of quality time
   with children, and I decided that what I really ought to do for
   our community was to start a babysitting service.

   After we all luxuriated in lascivious languor for a few
   magnificent minutes in the refreshingly cold sweat of sheer
   exhaustion, I went to the bathroom and Nicole helped me to rinse
   my tarnished pole with "Ravishing Rose"-scented floral soap.
     ____________________________________________________________

   . . .And God said "Behold, Adam has become like one of us,
   knowing evil and good." Then he said, "Let us cast him out of
   Paradise, lest he take from the tree of life, and live forever!"

   But of what sort is this God? First he envied Adam that he should
   eat from the tree of knowledge. . . Surely he has shown himself
   to be a malicious envier.

        Testimony of Truth, Nag Hammadi Library

   I was startled mid-chapter from my reading by the noisy clatter
   of the door latch, followed by jingling keys as their mother
   Isadora, breathing a sigh of homecoming, stepped in from the
   porchlit portico.

   "Hi!" she called out as I rose to meet her. "Were they good?"

   "They were delightful. Got right to bed when I told them."

   She was shedding coat and shoes. "I'm so relieved," she replied,
   opening her purse to extract a couple of twenties. "You know,"
   she confided. Her lipstick was fresh. "Nothing turns me on more
   than a man who's good with children."

   "Oh, they're always good for me. . ." I said.

   "Maybe I'll need to just give you an extra tip." and before I
   knew it, she had lunged forward, pressing her lips to mine with
   such alacrity that the tip of her tongue dove within me, as she
   surrounded me with the sweet softness of her savage embrace. I
   yielded with tender resignation to the attentions of her tongue
   and caressing hands.

   One hand, that is. The other was pulling at a clasp behind her,
   and swiftly released the milky flesh of the dual hazards whose
   cleavage beckoned so smartly from between.

   She knelt down, unceremoniously pulled down my shorts, and
   without commenting on the faint aroma of "Ravishing Rose," which
   I hoped she did not recognize, she kissed my sweet ornament with
   ardor and delight.

   Soon I found my delicate rod submerged in the soft bosom of her
   heartbeat, between her delicate white gelatinous mountains, her
   cooing lips drawing forth my rising fervor and abandon until the
   fire once more spilled over, and I released my gift over her.

   I gazed into her soulful long-lashed deep dark eyes as my
   phlegmatic drops spattered her smooth clean upturned face and
   hair.

                                                           Chapter 4

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