THE KISS Scott Grildrig 21

06/03/2020

THE KISS

Scott Grildrig

21-Mar-1994

The wind whispered about the trees that lined the road, tugging at their

branches, causing the moon shadows to flicker and creep like scuttling claws. He

pulled his heavy cloak about his shoulders, feeling a chill that was not born on

the warm night air, but made in the sounds of distant creaking and the rustling

of grasses. He moved swiftly, desiring only to pass through the darkness,

wanting only to arrive to hearth and home.

Something flickered across the moon. He glanced up furtively, but that fell orb

shone down through the twined branches of the trees, untouched by cloud or

shadow. He looked back to the road, his heart thudding in his chest. With a sigh

of death the wind ceased, leaving a dismal calm in its wake, a grim ethereal

silence, but for the noise of his boots on the road. He felt as if he alone

moved in the night, and all things with eyes were watching him, tracking him,

displeased with the clamor of his passage. Something flittered past. He started,

his head ducking and glancing about. Wheeling about in the sky above were

countless little wings, fluttering and darting about the sky, silently tracing

his progress through the night.

Then a low deep noise filled the night, coming from the left and behind, a

grinding and a crunching as of some heavy and ponderous thing moving amidst the

woods beyond the road. It's pace was slower than his, but it never deviated from

its course or diminished, following him closely. His heart pounded harder as the

great thing stalked him, filling him with dread until with a low cry he threw

open his cloak and set to running. He flew down the old road like a terrified

animal, following its turns and bends, praying for the next one to show him the

lights of home.

And there it was, the lights of home, glowing warmly in the summer night a half

mile away. He increased his stride, and in his heart he was already celebrating

his redemption, when a shadow blocked the moon, stealing the moment.

Just scant yards ahead, the trees exploded, tumbling like towers, crashing into

the road. He screamed and fell forward, rolling along the warm earth and

slamming into a wall. Shaken and stunned he groggily lifted himself up, bracing

his hand against the wall. And he froze. What he felt was not stone or wood, it

was softer and slightly pliant, and smelled like leather. He looked up. It was a

booted foot, a giant's foot, planted upon the broken trees as if they were

weeds. The boot rose up and up, disappearing under the line of a vast black

cloak. The material hung loose, unable to hide the generous curves of its

wearer. His neck was bent back when he saw the face looking down at him.

It was a woman. Her face was beautiful, lit askance by the bright moonlight. Her

eyes were wide, and glittered in the darkness, her lips were full and smiling,

and even in the silver light showed red. Her hair was long and black, cascading

down her shoulders in silken waves. She was haunting, mesmerizing. Her beauty

transfixed him, held him. Her eyes never strayed from him, never released him.

She raised her hands, and unclasped her cloak, letting it slip from her great

shoulders. It fell heavily, raising a gust that washed over him like a cool

draught. She was naked. Her colossal body shimmered in the moonlight, shadows

emphasizing the supernatural rondure of her great breasts, the lean lines of her

waist and hips, the enshadowed danger lurking between her thighs.

His body responded to the sight. Lust welled up within him, her body beckoned to

him, teased him. Her eyes laughed at his puny size, dared him to try to attempt

her. He began to pull at his clothes, tearing them off in a frenzy as though

shedding the very core of his reason, until, naked and defiant he stood by her

booted foot, determined to climb her if need be. But she was impatient herself,

and bent down over him, enormous and irresistible. Her hands closed about him,

caught him, trapped him. He writhed in their warmth, caressing her fingers with

his small body. He felt himself rise, up from the road, up past her knees, past

her lush womanhood, higher even than the trees, past her tremendous breasts, up

and up until she stood, holding him in her cupped palms.

He stared at her wondrous face, smiling hugely. She stared back, letting her

gaze wander freely over his tiny figure. And when her eyes returned, when she

looked directly at him, she smiled widely, and bowed her head, as if to kiss

him.

His mortal screams electrified the night, echoed and reverberated, ululated up

into a cresendoing shriek and then down into a crashing silence. When she raised

her head, her lips glowed an brighter red, staining even the bright daggers of

her teeth. Her tongue lolled out, caressing and cleaning, tasting and savoring.

She bent her head again, for a brief moment, finishing her ghastly feast. Then,

casually, carelessly she cast her little morsel aside, bent down and lifted her

great cloak, closing it around her body. The moonlight seemed to flicker, and

she was gone.

Later, there came a rustling in the grasses beside the road, and a tiny dark

form fluttered and skittered into the night sky…

...End...

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