six.2

He grabbed his belly, clutching at the hardness underneath the fat, searching for what, he didn’t know. It felt like something was almost ready. It was coming up on midafternoon, and the hazy filtered sunlight lit his way down Ventura boulevard. He stopped to wait while the precious pain passed, and continued onward.

He’d spent the greater part of two days tracking his quarry, and wasn’t about to lose track of her. It was in no way possible that he’d not get this one. He had planned it out, every step. First with the watching, the expectant waiting at the bus stops. The writing down –in obsessive detail — of her routine. He’d seen her first on the street, twice in one week, so he began to be there more often at the same time every day. It was a park, and it was lunchtime, and it was near office buildings. It was a simple matter of being in the right place when she showed up, and then following her discreetly back to her office.

Then it was a simple matter of finding out more about the law firm that employed her. Begine, Broussard and Benn was a medium sized firm, in a medium sized building, probably doing a medium sized business. He began hanging around the entry way, waiting for her to leave for the day. One day, he was able to follow her all the way home, after several aborted attempts. It wasn’t easy following without being seen, but he’d been practicing.

On this,the fourth day after sighting her, he had a lucky break. His body tensed with anticipation, and he grew hard at the thought of having her, taking her, hurting her. She walked down the street. Past six blocks of small shops and apartment buildings, and made a right. She walked two more buildings down, and went through the security gate. Like a security gate could keep him out. He was too impressive for that. Too transcendent and godly.

He would make her see his glow. He would taker her into the holy place, and leave her there, for his glory to invade every cell of her body. Then he would reveal himself to her, just when her ecstasy was almost too much to bear. He shivered with antici…..pation.

He went straight home, to his ordinary condo on his very ordinary street in the very ordinary san fernando valley. He touched his manhood on the way home, to keep the religious ecstasy strong. To keep him in the transcendent state he lived for. To keep him in touch with his own godhood.

He walked into his condo, threw his keys to the floor and stripped naked. He flexed his buttocks and stood on his toes in the exact geometric center of his home. He began to stroke and knead his penis until it stood even more turgid and accusatory. He closed his eyes, concealing himself from the eternal Truth of his Glory, and let his holy Spirit flow forth out into the world.

When he finished, he slowly re-dressed, and threw a towel into the center of the room, to clean up the leftovers from his ecstasy.

This weekend, he’d be ready. This weekend, He’d watch her and, if His timing was right, would take her into His Everpresent bosom, to become born again through the sacred sharing of His divine Truth.

The gathering of wizards and witches was almost finished. They prayed fervently to the goddesses of Sun and Moon. They symbolically sacrificed to the Earth goddess and the Fire goddess. They chanted and sang and disrobed and walked meditation. They called into existence an infinite number of possibility and chose the one specific true need. The world needed a guide. The world needed a powerful shaman to guide it. The world was hidded from the light, and shadowed by the Evil of man and woman kind.

They prayed. They hoped and prayed and carried forth their prayer into the day, into the night, and everywhere in between. They each took a piece from the symbolic sacrifices,a nd carried it with them into their daily lives, into their mundane separate existences, in hopes that the constant vigils would one day create the perfect goddess-reflection in the real world, rather than in their constantly voiced prayers.

Sister Mary was a believer. She believed in the power of the goddess and the prayer and the sacrifices. She dutifully and joyfully brought pieces of each ritual into her daily life, holding the symbols in her mind, present in her daily thought. She walked, ate, and breathed the Wish.

Brother Mike was in it for the sex. He liked being naked with the brethren and he liked having his pick of the group to go home with him when they were at their most open and willing. He said the prayers, he chanted the mantra, but mostly he watched the hot women and men that joined the group. He mostly ignored the not so hot looking ones.

“Hello, Mary, that was a beautiful prayer today, wasn’t it?” Mike looked directly into her eyes, a tactic that got more women into his bed (or on his floor, or in his shower, or on his kitchen table) than leering at their bodies did. He was a longtime member of this and other groups, only moving on when they figured out his game.

Mary looked right back at him and said, “Michael, I will not be going home with you today. I see how you leave with a different person each week, and I know you are not as pure of thought as you should be. I will not say anything to Ravyn, because I beleive the spells have power even when their speakers do not.”

He must have slumped a bit, showing his true feelings at being found out.

“However,” she said, “if you come back every week, and promise to stop using us as your own private harem, I will take you into MY bed. But you must promise me that you will stop now with everyone else, and that you will allow ME to choose the time when I think is best for our coming together.”

Mike must have looked shocked at her candor, because she said, “You’re not the only one who has sex, Mike. It’s just that I believe it to be a spiritual practice, not a purely physical one.”

Mary winked at him, put her robe back on, and walked away to the dressing area where she had left her day clothes.

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