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Danny Kaye Inchworm
Love is blind, never more so than when your mouth is stitched to somebody else’s anus. I know all about its peaks and troughs as I have had a number of long-term relationships throughout my transience. Yet possibly none as bizarre as my current affiliation. It all come about through the marvels of internet dating. Her name is Lindsay and her profile picture was equivocal to say the least. I could hardly make it out but it appeared that she was blowing up a balloon of sorts although I couldn’t be sure as it was a sketchy mobile upload. I decided the best way to ascertain whether or not we shared a connection was through a little messaging back-and-forth and this yielded surprising results.
She was witty, articulate and appeared to be all that I could possibly desire. We conversed on multiple occasions and each time we did it become more apparent that we shared some sort of inimitable connection. She sure seemed bright, as intelligent as three people in fact, and she didn’t seem perturbed by any of my many nuances so we purged forth and became an item. Every day without fail we would set aside some time just for us and our bond became stronger. Meeting that someone special online requires you to change your approach considerably. In many ways it is a better way of selecting a suitor as everything is ass-about-face; although not ordinarily in such a literal sense as I would soon discover here.
We began to make plans and a union was looking on the cards. We discussed the possibility of one of us paying the other a visit but, considering the fact that she currently resides in Germany, this would invariably involve footing quite a bill. After looking at options it became clear that her flight would be three times as expensive as mine. It seemed ludicrous, obviously recession had hit that part of Europe hard, but after careful consideration we concluded that I would be the one to cover any legwork. Money was an issue so I saved for several weeks until which time as I had sufficient funds to book a late flight.
During the interim our fledgling love continued to blossom. My proposed visit showed her just how deadly serious I was about making this work, long distance or not. At some point she was hoping to return to her native home in America and that would put even more miles between us so it was imperative that we take this chance and learn a little more about one another’s intricacies. Although she was forthcoming about her past and happy to be quizzed about her exploits in the States it still felt like she was holding out on me somehow. It seemed like a logical progression to try Skype but every time I suggested it she would back off just a little.
Even though I ensured her that I fell in love with her mind and everything else is immaterial, she still felt hesitant and our screen union never actually came to be. I am nothing if not understanding and if true love was going to have to take this course then I was more than happy to roll with it. Closer to my departure she began to act a little out-of-sorts. “What if I’m not what you’re expecting? Say you don’t get on with my roommates?” She seemed adamant that it was all about to turn to shit the moment I make my pilgrimage, despite constant reassurances on my part. That isn’t how Keeper rolls, the mind is the sexiest part of the body for sure and, should she be afflicted with an ingrowing toenail or gammy knee, then I would overlook such superfluous factors and trust my instinct. I made the flight, just as I pledged I would.
Our primary meeting would have had many suitors running for the nearest exit to be fair. We met in a bustling restaurant in Düsseldorf and I almost missed her entirely. After fifteen minutes of sitting at my table like emotional plankton, I received word from the maître d that an eastern gentleman at table six wished for me to join him for a drink. I was most intrigued by the fact that he asked for me by name and could only deduce that he was acquaintance of hers, a messenger of sorts. I was, of course, soundly discombobulated and not even vaguely interested in picking up same-sex Japanese tourists during my stay here but it wasn’t looking like Lindsay was likely to show so I accepted his generous offer and joined him for his entrée.
Upon asking as to whether he would answer a little poser, he was more than happy to oblige. I asked about Lindsay and how he knew my name and he replied that she was very much present but overly shy and cautious about our initial contact. He made a good point actually; she couldn’t be too careful as you meet all manner of kooks on the worldwide web claiming to be Robert when they are, in fact, Roberta. However, hiding beneath the tablecloth seemed a tad excessive by anyone’s standards. Should I be a sicko then surely a crowded restaurant in an alien country would not have considered. I would’ve requested we unify in some seedy Berlin back street and turned up in a full-length raincoat, Marx brothers disguise and black leather mittens.
What was I saying about being understanding? There was no way on Earth I was prepared to walk away from the start of something beautiful, even if I had to wade through the reeds to get there. True love will find a way, I held onto that as I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The gentleman, whose name is Katsuro, acted as go-between and relayed back everything she said while she remained submerged in fabric. This put my mind at rest as there was no way he could know what she knew if she wasn’t in attendance. However, it felt like she had her fist up his asshole at one point as he was practically a ventriloquist’s bitch. All was hunky dory until he asked whether I would mind if he went to the toilet. This left me befuddled as I wasn’t his keeper and he could damned well do as he pleased as far as I was concerned. I should’ve taken exception with his request.
He took a dump where he sat. I shit you not, this oriental aristocrat shat on his own mat right before my eyes. What discouraged me further was the sound of gagging as he passed his stool. How unthoughtful an act; I may have been catching its slipstream in both nostrils but poor Lindsay was right in the thick of it. Then it was followed by a groan of discontentment which suggested somebody else was also present. I challenged Katsuro immediately and he buckled under my questioning. It turned out another party had been invited along without my prior knowledge and this was Jenny, a close friend of Lindsay’s. Closer than I fucking thought but I’ll get to that.
To his credit he came clean and was most apologetic for pulling the wool over my eyes. I may well have called the whole thing off had it not been for the fact that I was so concerned over Jenny’s welfare. Poor lass was always the last to know of any developments or movements and it appeared that she had suffered a torrid time since setting off backpacking with her best friend. Apparently it was Jenny who always ended up carrying the can and had taken a lot of shit over the past few months but always remained right behind her buddy no matter the hardship. I found this admirable and agreed to a second date as the four-way dynamic appeared to be reaping rewards despite the spokesman lacking any form of etiquette. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they say and I would keep him where I could see him at all times.
The O’Jays Love Train
During our second rendezvous we all started to hit it off. All three of them laughed at my jokes and even Jenny began to perk up a little despite still feeling out of sorts. I became convinced at this juncture that there was some powerful chemistry at work and began to relax. Katsuro still did all the talking for the girls but occasionally I would feel them shuffling at my feet and caressing my trouser leg. It was then that I realized that a little swinging may be on the platter. I didn’t mistake it; Jenny had her feelers out too and it was looking on for a menage à trois. If this was how Lindsay played then I would not be standing in her path. Three’s a charm and it could just bring us all closer together anyhoots. I always preferred the thought of being hip over square and pledged I would try anything once.
Before I knew it the big third date was looming and Katsuro suggested something a little different for our coming together. He extended me an invite to their rural country house and I knew this would be game time. I did, of course, express my curiosity over his part in the planned debauchery and he insisted that he only likes to watch so I guessed no harm, no foul. We were all friends here and the three of them were practically conjoined anyhow so I really had nothing to lose. On my arrival the front door was left ajar and he called for me from the study. “Excuse the low-key lighting Keeper, we’re all a little shy about this. You see, none of us have ever done anything like this before either.” Low-key? I couldn’t see a fucking thing. The whole ambiguity thing was beginning to get old fast but I had come all this way and didn’t intend on welching at the eleventh hour.
The moment I stumbled blindly in I felt their hands tugging away at my garments. We had all gotten a little freaky after our extended foreplay and the pheromones were evidently in full flow so we went along with the ride. I was a little disappointed with Lindsay’s role in the debacle. Jenny insisted she be taken from behind so I manned the pumps as requested. Katsuro was the only one the least bit interested in kissing and I wasn’t feeling that particular dynamic. Meanwhile Lindsay spent the whole time engaging in a spot of rimming with him and not fully partaking in any nocturnal pursuits with me. Presumably I was the object of her affection and this wasn’t some elaborate ruse to incite an orgy. I just didn’t know anymore. So I flicked on the lights.
It is two weeks now since our first sequence and, I am pleased to report, things have been going from strength-to-strength. Jenny admittedly suffers terribly with incessant sickness but considering her spot on the chain it is only to be expected. However there are also the patter of tiny feet projected, triplets to be precise, so that may account for her being off-kilter. I think I may extend my stay in Germany and see how things go. If nothing else we have shared some glorious four-way rounds of Hungry Hippos.
Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014