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The Praying Mantis [Feb. 15th, 2007|05:24 pm]
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The Praying Mantis

It was the summer of 88 and the sun was about to melt the tin on the roof of the warehouse. I had just parked my forklift and had come back from being entertained by a praying mantis I had found in the tall grass on the far end of the dock. I remember being impressed at how it showed so much courage when I stuck my finger in its face. It stood its ground and continued to box my finger with its front legs. It must be a female, I thought. I then pictured me being a male praying mantis and her biting my head off with a sly green smile. I suddenly stopped aggravating it, and decided to go to eat lunch.

Cabot Corporation, a carbon black company my father worked for, hired its employees’ children for summer help. Those children had to be attending college to get the job. This was my second year there and this year I was working in the warehouse bagging and loading carbon black.

I sat on a pallet of carbon black bags waiting for Katie; I was singing Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House. Katie, two years older than me, was working in the warehouse too. We decided to eat lunch together today.

We always knew each other growing up, but were never really that close. In the past month things changed between us. She wasn’t the easiest girl to understand though. She always talked about guys she had her sights on. I listened and gave her advice. We talked about music, philosophy, animals, and astronomy. We talked about everything.

I wanted to ask her out, but never got the balls to do so. She would flirt everyday and that was starting to drive me crazy.

She walked up to me with black smudges across her face and I thought, how can she still look so beautiful? She grabbed my hand and said, ‘Let’s go to warehouse #32’.

‘Why warehouse 32?’ I asked.

She looked at me with a grin and said, ‘Shut up.’

Warehouse #32 was the last one at the far end of the main row of warehouses.

We sat down in the far corner of the somewhat dark warehouse. There were some taller pallets of bagged carbon black surrounding us.

Sweat dripped into my eyes as I pulled out my tuna sandwich and then Katie whispered, ‘We’re not here to eat Brian.’ My face had the look of a face when your truck gets stuck on the railroad tracks and a train is 50 feet away coming straight for you.

She took my sandwich out of my hand and leaned into me. I felt her breath on my ear. She asked softly, ‘You wanna kiss me?’ I felt the words in my mouth, but I couldn’t seem to open my lips to get them out. I lost all motor skills at that point. I reached up and fumbled with my hardhat. It fell upon the floor and echoed throughout the warehouse.

I moved my lips towards hers. She waited for me to move closer.

I suddenly felt a rush of blood to my penis. I never felt it get so hard so fast before. I was certain it could cut a diamond.

Our lips touched as I grabbed her shoulders. I felt as if I should hold on for dear life, like she was going to take me to places I had never been before.

I opened my eyes to see if I was still there and she had the most erotic look on her face. Don’t tell me that I couldn’t see her whole face, because I could. I swear that I was floating above us watching every detail of her.

I could taste the sweat on her lips. She pressed her chest against mine, and then pushed me back onto the bags of carbon black. I laid there watching as she climbed on top of me. She looked like a lioness ready to eat me. She leaned over and her hair fell in my face.

I began to undo each button on her blue work shirt. She pulled her shirt off and then reached behind her back; her bra fell to the ground. Her breasts were bigger than I had imagined; they were pretty much perfect.

Sunlight from a hole in the roof poured over her body as sweat beads ran down her breasts.

Was this real, I thought.

Later that afternoon I stood on top of one of the railroad tank cars and stared off into the distance.

Would this really work?
Could this really work?
Was she really a nice girl?

I suddenly thought of the praying mantis.

What if she bit my head off next time?

[User Picture]From: october_raped
2007-02-21 05:04 am (UTC)
she probably would.

they always do.
(Reply) (Thread)
[User Picture]From: jean_lafitte
2007-02-22 12:03 am (UTC)
you speak from experience
(Reply) (Parent) (Thread)