That night danced in my mind.
I touched myself to those scenes of me staring at him in the mirror as he pounded that beautiful cock into me. In the morning, I did my best to run the lust for him out of my system, slamming my feet onto the pavement the same way he’d slammed into my body over and over again until I groaned in pleasure. Mornings held cold showers and my repeated sessions with vibrators as I thought of him inside of me.
It was bad.
He’d gotten inside me. When I closed my eyes, his gorgeous face came into view. When I smelled my skin, it was his scent. His voice sang me to sleep. Thoughts of our debates on politics and philosophy made me laugh in my saddest moments. I touched my sheets and imagined the feel of his flesh smoothing against mine. At night, I closed my eyes and dreamed of him.
I thought of our last intimate conversation before the sex.
Adrian frowned. “I imagined what my mother looked like that day the convenience store cashier found her.”
“And poetry helped you?” I asked.
“It helped. Words healed me...”
Maybe words will heal me.
By the second week, I sat at my computer and tried it Adrian’s way. I played with words and hoped they would heal me. Catharsis. What was I healing from? Everything. Was it a broken heart? Perhaps. Who’d broken it? Everyone, but Adrian.
As I healed, I realized that I had no real feelings for Nick. He’d been a rebound. A distraction from the loss of my ex. We’d had fun times sure, but nothing else.
And then I realized something. I missed Adrian. He’d become a habit, just like those morning jogs. He’d become a true friend, someone radiating charisma and so absolutely fun to be around.
I missed him.
Sitting at my desk, I turned on my computer and stared at what I’d written weeks ago. “A god masturbating in an enchanted forest.”
My cat Edgar, named after Edgar Allen Poe, jumped into my lap and purred. I stroked his midnight hair. Adrian’s sleek strands rushed to my mind. I had to shake my head to stop thinking about it.
“Okay, Edgar. What do you think? Should I keep the masturbating god or go in another direction?”
Edgar rolled onto his back and went to sleep. He’d barely acknowledged me since we reunited. Nick hated cats, so when I moved into the mansion my mother kept Edgar. Now back in my apartment and waiting for my funds to come from Ford Enterprises, I was making it all up to Edgar.
“If I submit this manuscript to my editor, she’ll think I’m smoking crack or that I’m a genius.” I shrugged. “Who cares? Mommy has to get this all out. Clearly, the masturbating god is Adrian. But where am I going with this?”
I laughed. “Okay.”
I cleared my throat. “Why is the god painting the forest with sperm? Where is this story going? What happens to the forest once he’s come all over it? Gods have magic that could create life. Hmmm. I like that. Masturbation creating life somehow. This public display being more than just some erotic show... ”
Had Adrian’s jacking off in front of me been more? Sure, it was perverted, but... am I stupid to think that we had something more? What am I even talking about? I can’t be with him.
Sighing, I typed it all out into my computer. “Sometimes Mommy thinks too much, Edgar.”
And so I wrote …
Hot white liquid gushed out of the god's tip and sprayed the center of the forest. “Oh, I'll cover you all.” Kroll bucked his hips. “It'll teach you not to tease me.”
His seed rained down on the forest as he grunted. His body color returned to pale while that hardened flesh trembled like the ground in the midst of an earthquake. The entire time the god Kroll stroked himself, warlocks hid around, watching him, ready to attack.
The Sixteen were twice the size of a human, their heights soaring well over fifteen feet.
Kroll's seed dripped from leaves, soaked the surrounding soil, and floated in dreary spots on the stream. All the warlocks wrenched out their swords, sharpened edges made with the four elements of the world—air, earth, water, and fire. One sword could pierce a god. Four swords could kill him.
"I`m tired of this." The warlock named Aeris sneered. Even with his huge robe on, anyone could see those muscular arms bulge. Instead of using his feet, he glided on air. "We're warlocks. We're meant for great things, not the god’s clean up duty."
Rak took off the hood of his robe and revealed a bald head. "Who said we were made for great things?"
"The Mother."
"I’ve never heard Mother Earth speak."
Aeris pointed to one of the semen-drenched leaves. "I'll take that one."
The process had already started. The leaf's surface rippled as it widened and expanded to the size of the tree it had hung from. Three hairy legs sprouted from its huge body. Too heavy for the branches, the leaf dropped to the ground with a boom and unsettled the grass. Teeth formed at the center, sharp white ones that snapped at Aeris as he swung his sword an inch from it.