My latest project (an NIS tale set in a rather odd universe
for an NIS tale) has been stalled for quite some time. But
my good friend and host arty wrote a little diddy in
FKWLounge titled "A Search for a PUN" in which he released
millions of Girl Friday clones upon an unsuspecting
multiverse and punished us all with a bad pun. I just
couldn't let that stand. This was my response.

mc, oral (blowjob), Girl Friday, dry humor (I hope) 

Copyright 2003. All rights reserved by the author (that's
me, Mark Reed). Posted here with permission. 

Read at your own risk. If smut offends you, don't read this.
If you're younger than 18, don't read this. 

Reality Clash
by Mark Reed

It was a sunny day, generally nice but more humid than I
would have preferred. But then, us transplanted Californians
are weird that way. Then again, Californians tend to be
weird in general. It's such a good thing to know that I'm
not alone. 

I was walking along the slightly crowded sidewalk path on my
way home from the library. Not crowded with people, but with
fallen tree branches, trashcans, lawn clippings, sticks, and
other minor walking hazards. It made an interesting
diversion for my feet to deal with while my mind recollected
my latest online adventure. 

I was reflecting on something I'd read in one of the lounges
I frequent. One of the members had unleashed 8 million Girl
Fridays on the multiverse, all in search of a bad pun.
Predictably, he found it (A muse meant accolade) and
predictably, I responded (huh???) What double entendre can
be found in the word accolade, anyway? But that's not the
point, if there ever was one. 

Ah, yes. The point was that as I walked home that afternoon,
I had in my mind the mental image of millions of naked
Fridays running rampant across an unknown number of fantasy
universes. They could have been clothed, but one has to
entertain oneself whenever one can. And believe me, the
image of a naked Girl Friday can provide for hours of
entertainment. Or minutes, depending on your level of...
er... patience at the time. 

Eventually I wondered of all 8 million duplicates were
attired similarly. Perhaps they each had a minor variation.
Perhaps only a million or so were running around completely
naked. Perhaps there was a Girl Friday dressed as a French
maid, and one dressed as a librarian (cliched yes, but
sexy), or even one in a school girl outfit. Personally, I'm
rather partial to the school girl variance. But I'll take my
Friday any way I can get it... er... her. 

Even with all the mental dressing, undressing, redressing,
undressing, teasing, and extremely enthusiastic sex I'd been
imagining, I was still considerably surprised when I looked
into a rustling bush I was passing on my left side and saw
Friday crouching there. 

"AAAAAHHHHH," I said as I jumped back, almost leaping into
the street in front of passing traffic. Perhaps I
understated my startlement. 

"Mark," she hissed. "You've got to help me. Find me
something to wear so I can get out of here. I'm getting
scratched all over." 

Logically, it's hard to believe in the nonexistence of
something standing (or crouching) right in front of you. The
human mind, however, is capable of amazing things. Mine was
quickly shifting gears from shock to disbelief. I gawked at
the wondrous vision of beauty before me and uttered the most
profound thought going through my mind at the time-
something similar to "urk." 

The wondrous vision of beauty before me slowly changed to a
wondrous and rather irritated vision of beauty. She reached
out a creamy skinned arm and pinched me on the leg. The pain
toppled the tower of disbelief my mind had busily been
constructing and it again shifted gears to the next emotion:
confusion. 

"What are you DOING here?" I asked. 

"I don't know," she hissed back. "One minute I was talking
to Arty, then the next I was trying to create a duplicate of
myself, then the next I was surrounded with identical copies
of myself while trying to think up a pun, then I found
myself walking the streets in this." She gestured
disgustedly to the rest of her body. That's when I finally
noticed that Friday was actually clothed. 

Well, sort of. The ensemble included a low cut, white blouse
and a rather short, blue flounce skirt. It looked very
similar to the multitude of outfits I'd been imagining her
in. If her appearance was at all related to my mental
wanderings, she wouldn't be wearing any underwear, either. I
looked for and found two tell-tale bumps protruding proudly
from her chest. Definitely related. My mind changed gears
from confusion to mercantile cunning. 

"Well," I drawled slowly, still trying to think through the
plan that had suddenly appeared in my mind. "I don't have
anything with me here, but I have clothes at home you could
use until we can figure out how to get you home again. Come
with me." Anyone with a decent sense of manners would have
unslung their coat and wrapped it around her shoulders and
not taken advantage of the situation to gawk at the
incredible body only partly covered by the sex-addled school
girl's outfit. I, however, had neither a coat nor a decent
sense of manners. I was rather enjoying the view. 

"I can't walk in the sidewalk in this," she replied in a
hushed tone of voice. "It's indecent!" 

I gave her a speculating look. "I think it'll pass grade, or
would in California," I said in what I hope was a sly tone.
"Personally I think the outfit looks good on you. The blue
skirt brings out the color in your eyes." 

"I have hazel eyes." 

I tore my gaze away from her blouse, which was bringing out
the color in parts of her body of more interest to me at
that moment than her eyes, and confirmed that the color of
her skirt did indeed clash with her eyes. But the skirt made
up for that fact by being both short and extremely
susceptible to the wind, so I forgave it. "Well, that's
beside the point anyway. I'm probably your only way home,
and I need to be at *my* home in about 20 minutes so I can
take care of the kid I baby-sit. I could go home and let you
wait here and hope that she feels like taking a walk, but
she probably won't and you probably wouldn't want her to see
you like this anyway." 

Friday must have agreed with my point. Her face turned a
little white and she finally got out of the bushes and onto
the sidewalk. As soon as she was standing upright a gust of
wind kicked her skirt up and proved that she wasn't wearing
panties. I began wondering if I had been suddenly granted
with the power to control reality. Friday's lack of surprise
or modesty seemed further proof. I mean really, what kind of
idiot expects a scantily clad beautiful woman to appear out
of nowhere and start performing his greatest fantasy? 

Don't answer that. 

But as I started walking home again, Friday's lovely form
bouncing along beside me, gleefully revealing bits of itself
to the world, I considered the idea of reality and multiple
universes. What if reality is just what you make of it? What
if there are actual realities where people can control the
world around them with thought? What if all our fears,
fantasies, and dreams exist? What if I was actually a
fictional character in a fictional world? Did it matter to
me, as long as everything else seemed real? Could I actually
control this situation enough to, dare I say it, get my
rocks off? 

It seemed an insurmountable scientific challenge. I felt
compelled to experiment for the good of all mankind. 

I'd progressed to walking with my arm around her shoulder by
the time we reached the part of the path to my house where
the road winds alongside a river and the large group of
trees surrounding it. I took hold of Friday's arm and led
her into the brush. She looked at me questioningly, but
complied. 

We reached a point where I was fairly sure we wouldn't be
seen and I turned to look at her. "Friday," I said as
seriously and sternly as I could, "I have to ask you a very
important question. You might say that the world as we know
it hinges on your answer." 

She watched my face, waiting for me to continue. I took a
deep breath and continued. "What I want to know," I said in
the same serious voice, "is if you would be willing to give
me a blowjob." I concentrated as hard as I could, hoping I
wasn't about to get slapped. 

Friday seemed puzzled for a moment longer and then slowly
sank to her knees with a smile. I stood there, stunned that
what I'd been hoping for could actually be happening. The
sound of my zipper being undone and the feel of my pants and
boxers being pushed down knocked me out of my daze. I looked
down just in time to see her hand wrap around my painfully
hard penis. She slowly caressed me with her fingers and
palm, making me close my eyes to better feel the pleasure.
Her hand sped up; she stroked me until my hips began to jerk
forward involuntary. I didn't want to orgasm just from her
hand, so I opened my mouth to tell her to continue. Just as
I began to speak I felt a hot warmth engulf my dick and my
words came out as a gurgled gasp. 

How can I describe the sensations I felt from her warm, soft
mouth? Is there truly any way to convey the pleasure? It
felt like my nerves were both tingling and on fire. I was
more aware of my balls and dick than I had ever been before.
I could feel every single millimeter, because it felt like
every single millimeter was being stimulated. Her lips
caressed me as she bobbed her head up and down, taking in
more each time. Her tongue flicked the underside of my head
until her lips and nose connected with my pelvis. With more
tongue area to use, she began to snake it against my
underside in a way that I still haven't figured out. My
whole body felt overheated and filmed with sweat. I rocked
back and used one hand to lean against a nearby tree while
the other sent its fingers into her hair. I moaned in
frustration and delight. Her mouth was driving me crazy. I
wasn't even consciously aware of it when I my vocalizations
became a half-moan, half-chant; calling her name over and
over again. 

After what seemed a small eternity (not that I was
complaining!) she decided to step it up a notch. She bobbed
her head one last time until she had my entire length firmly
wrapped in lips, mouth, and tongue. Then she started to
suck. 

It didn't take very long at all. The explosion hit me so
strongly that I lost my balance and fell on my ass in the
dirt. I'm sure it was quite a sight to see, since I was in
mid-ejaculation at the time. I was completely oblivious. I
opened my eyes to see stars- figuratively and literally.
Night was beginning to fall and the sky was reasonably
clear. I had a rock digging into my back but I felt so
relaxed that I decided not to move. Friday had settled down
next to me and was hugging me; the front of her body
pressing tightly against the side of mine. I moved an arm
and let my hand settle on her inner thigh. I fully intended
to return the favor, but I wanted to sit and think for a bit
while my body de-jellified. 

Could I really control people with just my mind? It
certainly seemed that way. It seemed that I had suddenly
gained the power to control the world around me, but the
idea was ludicrous. My best theory at the time was that *I*
wasn't real- or at least not real in the sense that I had
always thought myself. If I wasn't real to physics, then
maybe physics wasn't real to me. 

The reason for the sudden turn of events wasn't all that
important to me. The overriding thought in my mind was that
I COULD CONTROL THE WORLD. Every single thought and whim was
suddenly mine to make real. I snuggled up against Friday and
thought of all the possibilities that lay before me. I could
become what ever I wanted, and that included most (if not
everything) that I had heretofore thought impossible. All I
had to do was think about it. I laughed to myself, realizing
that my thoughts could get me in a lot of trouble. There are
some fantasies that a person imagines but doesn't actually
*want* to come true. Plenty of people wonder what it would
be like to be a woman, but would freak if they suddenly
changed into one. 

I turned my head and looked at the contended look on
Friday's face, pondering the new turn in thoughts. It was a
dangerous thing to daydream of, considering my new 'powers.'
Why, it would even be possible to... 

My whole world seemed to twist, melt, shatter, and implode
all at the same time. I shut my eyes to stop the input.
Everything had gone suddenly silent and I was feeling so
many things jerk, bump, and touch up against me that I
couldn't figure out what to make of anything. I'm not sure
how long it lasted, but eventually sound returned and I
didn't feel anything touching me. I opened my eyes and found
myself on the sidewalk, looking at the street I had so
recently walked down. I looked around for a moment and
realized that I was right in front of the bushes I had seen
Friday at. Some of the cars passing me on the street were
slowing down to look at me. One even honked its horn. I
looked around again, wondering what was going on, and saw
*myself* walking down the street towards me. My eyes opened
wide in horror as I remembered that my last daydream before
the world seemed to shatter involved going back in time. I
looked down and my greatest fears were confirmed: two
nipples proudly poked out of their respective breasts,
barely being covered by a skimpy schoolgirl blouse. 

~Fin~