Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Red Shoes... of Aunt Lis



Alone for a long time left him with little hope. Mentally tired and withered; a man without stimulation, love and worth resembles an unwatered Wandering Jew. Even though a Wandering Jew is an easy to grow, hardy soul, well... Without its water and nutrients, the plant cannot spread out in its efforts to take over the world. Ah...

Only 56, Herman Roberts was at the end of his useful life. Perhaps a man should never retire. It is a fact that people live longer when they remain active and working, but inherent laziness is life's bugaboo. Besides Brian Roberts (no relation) and Comcast had given him a deal he couldn't refuse. And so he lost any modicum of the brio and the verve he ever had. $50 blow jobs and curbside car diddling can only go so far. Two and a Half Men re-runs do get old!


Day after day, for the last months, Herman did little more than eat, de-eat, sleep, jack-off and porn. Or would that be porn and jack-off. Chicken and egg, egg and chicken, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-!! Oh yes, there is the lady Griese, next door. She is always trying to get a schtoop wherever she can and truth be told, she has a young (tight, wet and thin-slitted) pussy. But she has baggage -> the cuckolded, impotent Whitson Griese. Hence, wife Gisele G can only provide occasional sex without sustenance, like an economy hooker.


Herman has been tormented by Gisele for years. Tight tops, cleavage calling and camel toed shorts played him like a tuba. She always knew she had the power over him. Dressing or should that be undressing with half open blinds in the second story window facing his bathroom, she was Chinese water torture. On many occasions, Herman Roberts rubbed that spot where some doctor had cut his foreskin frenulum when he was a baby. Oh, that sensitive, precum inducing dip-drip, spot. Touch-touch... Drip-drip-drip... Bam!!


It's a funny thing how a person can fixate. Be it chocolate ice cream or foreign cars, a fixation can lead to some whack behavior. For Herman Roberts, it was red shoes. RED SHOES! Indeed, anytime he espies a lady in red shoes he glows like a poker in a coal fire. Although he has never been shrunk, his fetish extends back to his adolescence, when his sexy Aunt Lisda wore red shoes. If he ever got shrunk, he would have been forced to remember how he tumesced his foreskin-less dinger every time he saw Lisda Poseider.


Lisda was the youngest sister of his mother, Suma Poseider Roberts. Thirteen years is a lot of difference between siblings and in some ways Lisda was more like his older sister than his aunt. They were only nine years apart. So when he was thirteen, Lis was twenty-two. For whatever her reasons, Aunt Lisda took it upon herself to school the pubescent Herman.

Oh, in the beginning it was just a little fun. A little too long kiss with some lip, a little too much chest to chest contact, a little too long eye linger, a little, a little, a little... At thirteen, a kid can only respond like a necturus. For the free spirited Lis, it was no big deal. She let him touch her titties. The young Herman squirted the first time he saw her nipples. She was wearing a sheer bra and she had let her shirt pull up while she was reaching for a colendar on a top kitchen shelf. He can still hear the echo of her laugh as she watched him wet through his jeans.


It was a hot July afternoon when... Herman was fifteen, he had developed and he had critical hair. Aching to have it, the heat of the day made her smell more captivating. Lis had never been an active instructor, but rather she had defined her role as a passive exemplar. Up until that day, Herman had only seen the top of her pubes when she wore a bikini, but nothing in the nether-nether region. Oh, how he thought about it... about her.

It was a rented beach house and everyone had gone off to sun and to play. Herman, who had a morning job setting up lounge chairs and cleaning the pool at the Eden Motel, came home to get ready to join his family at the beach. He didn't know that Lisda was still there, in the house. She had come down to the shore for a few days rest. Surprised, he found her standing in the kitchen wearing red high heeled shoes and nothing else. For her part, she seemed as startled as he was when they faced. Blood rushed. All of Herman's red lights turned to green.


Well that was it! That was the day of the events that Herman Roberts would never be able to duplicate or exceed. A high point for sure... life's apex! By the time Herman made it to the shoreline, he had been schooled. Life is like that, a lot of time wasted, with a few moments of bright illumination.

Lisda moved to Mississippi the October after that July. Working in Biloxi as a casino cocktail server, she was killed while exiting a filling station. Her Corolla was t-boned by a drunken state trooper. He was chasing a speeder. Herman still can remember seeing her, there, in her open casket. Somebody must have decided that those red pumps should go with her. Red shoes...


Back when he was thirty, Herman married for a few years. More pro forma than impassioned, the union was doomed at its start. Whatever prompted Mr. Roberts to go Filipina mail order has been long forgotten. A couple of years, no kids and no alimony. Nothing lost... nor gained for that matter. Oh, Irene never wore red shoes! And she had muddy, thick nipples; nothing like the deep, delicates of Lisda.

And so it passed, Herman's life. He never amounted to much, but who does? Life is a joke, a short segment of great expectations. For most, those expectations are frustrated and failed. For Herman Roberts, fifty single milligram Xanax tablets induced a d-e-e-p sleep. When the police found him, he was clutching a computer printed image. He must have been fixated on it before he left, before his lights turned green to red. The long legged model bore a striking resemblance to... Aunt Lis//


And so it goes...

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