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"I died as mineral and became a plant, I died as plant and rose to animal, I died as animal and I was Man. Why should I fear? When was I less by dying?" This someone once asked me but at the time I had neither answer nor really very much interest, being weary and in sore need of a good rest.

I'd travelled that day far further than good sense dictated, drawn, as if my some magnet to a tree covered mountainous region on the outward reaches of my psyche and slowly but surely, as I climbed steadily higher I become not only concerned for my safety but thoroughly and utterly lost.

Foolishly I'd displayed Her cowrie without considering the consequences, striding boldly when I ought to have exercised caution, whistling jauntily and doffing my cap at all and sundry, taking that sunny day at face value carelessly, expecting the next to dawn exactly the same.

And when it did not……

"Partisans!" someone warned. "Thieves, vagabonds, slave traders, physicists"

Many's the time I've heard such warning and many's the time I've heeded them. Other times for whatever reason, I've heeded them not. This time apprehension began to sniff at my heels, much as a small dog might have sniffed at the base of a lamp-post or attractively placed turd in the road. Physicists indeed! God's knickers!! Was I to worry and fret forever about such things? By the end of that day I'd walked less than four miles instead of my usual ten, and on tiptoes, barely breathing, nearly wetting myself when a magpie called raucously from a wayside tree.

So the next day I covered the cowrie, cut myself a stout cudgel a blackthorn shilleighley from a nearby hedge and thus armed I strode. cloaked but wary, strong armed and careful into the broad openness of that day.

And it happened that, upon entering the outskirts of a village a small dog did emerge from its hidey hole to yap annoyingly at me. Hearing it a woman shouted sharply some foreign words, then, espying me, a stranger, turned from her task, stood upright and pleasantly addressed me.

"She will be at the well for a while longer if you hurry!"

Moments passed before I realised she was speaking to me. Speaking a language I understood what was more.

"Hurry!" she urged while I gaped at her.

"The……the well……" I managed. "Which……which way?"

I didn't ask who she was or who the she was she referred to either. Something told me to hold my tongue.

Impatiently the woman glared at me then hearing my question, gesticulated wildly and uselessly. She was a ragged woman, more of a scarecrow than anything anyone envisioned as any kind of icon of fashion. To my way of thinking, biased as it might have been, the small dog appeared better dressed than she. But I kept my peace in that respect, clutching my cudgel and sidling, yes that is the right word, I sidled, past the place where the drab grey woman stood, past where her dog stood, eyes bulging, still yapping, until, magically it seemed, my feet found the pavement beyond them both, of their own accord and of a sudden I was free to walk upon the Way again.
………………

I suppose you might ask, and I suppose I might answer so if you insist I'll tell you about my ship. No not its whereabouts for in it's concealment hides a paradox as well as a ship and in its hull, in hibernations sleep my secrets. Those some might look upon as my companions, my crewmembers, one two three.

She is not any common craft, being neither water fire nor air, but my own dearly beloved spacecraft, safe hidden in her lair. So sang the poets and the pop stars when they got to hear of me. I begat a craze and the unquiet burdens of infamy in the blink of an eye, spawning spinoffs and copycats as if there was no tomorrow. And there was not, indeed, for some of them. After that it was downhill all the way! I got pursued by paparazzi and film producer alike, hunted by wannabes, aged hippies, weirdo witches and members of the Jedi religion, all hanging onto my every word. I had sensation seekers going through my dustbins like council officials desperate to increase my profile, incredibility and recycling tax and oddly dressed acolytes baring their breasts and buttocks for me. They sickened me, all of them without exception, sickened me thoroughly because those who should have known better were by far the worst and those who knew no better, well…...

I became a recluse, a loner, a weirdo some might say, exiled within a prison of my own subtle making, surrounded and supported by a few, very few, chosen ones who screened me and shielded me, seeing to my every need, brushing my hair and painting my toenails and changing the water, regularly, in my goldfishes bowl.
In many respect I was free and in many others a prisoner. There were some things I could not say and some I could not do. Not many admittedly and those heavily outweighed by their exact opposites. A free prisoner if you will, free from the taxman, health and safety and best of all the paparazzi. And with this freedom I grew indolent and insular and, some might have said, even ignorant, caring not one whit for any particular person or thing.

Except for the Lady's shell of course and that I kept very well hid.

Until one day a man from Cambridge came to see me on his bike. He was clever and cynical both at the same time, which itself takes some cleverness to pass off easily. He wrote for some scientific magazine he said, New Horizons or Playbeing, I think it was, all of it sensationalists tripe and squit, I own, when I looked at a copy.

"Whats all this we hear?" he asked, removing his cycle clips with measured precision.

"All what?" I asked. His tweedy weediness made it difficult for me to take him seriously.

"Something about a new form of energy?"

"I don't know" I said "You're the clever one with the pushbike, you tell me!"

I was still thinking coal and gas and little boys with brushes clambering up inside chimneys. He on the other hand had an altogether different subject in mind.

"They say you've come from the stars" he said and I thought about Buddy Holly. "In some sort of spaceship powered by a magnetic coil"

"That's my cleaning lady's Hoover!" I said escaping easily, or so I thought. I might have entrapped myself after that had I not listened to the next words he said.

"Frivolity does not become you!" those were his words. There were more but that's what he said to begin with. Luckily Queen Jane came into the room just then, with a smile on her face and a tray of tea.

Cambridge peered first at her then quickly back to me. It was her bold nakedness I think, which unnerved him.

"Ah my dear!" I cried "this young man has come all the way from Cambridge University to talk to me!"

I turned to him formally.
Mr Cambridge" I said "May I introduce my companion and favourite concubine Queen Jane"

"She……" Cambridge began to say.

"My love" I went on, turning to her "May I introduce the clever Mr……"

"Butler!" he spat.

"Yes, Mr Butler, who is, I understand, a physicist"

Foolish man! He stared at Jane's body openly but at Her cowrie disdainfully without recognising it. I think he would have been scornful of a tramp in the street had he seen one, without first ascertaining whether that same tramp was Einstein, Jesus Christ or his very own father.

And caring less I have no doubt.

Jane set the tray down and turned on her PC, the screen saver, depicting the two of us in a compromising position, rocked back and forth menacingly when the thing fired up to full speed.

"Physics!" he mouthed slowly, as if it had a bad taste or was still in copyright for which he was paying.

"And the same to you!" Queen Jane said.

"Teslar rings" he ventured.

I smiled at this. He was on the wrong track completely.

"Sugar? Milk?" Queen Jane enquired. Her breasts bobbed beautifully when she moved, while a touch of glittery glitter, specially applied, gleamed in the kisscurls between her legs.

"No……sugar……thanks"

"Good!" she said.

"Space travel?" he pursued "Do you do it and if so will you tell me how it's done?"

"Yes and no, its an impossibility" I told him "The distances are too great and the women involved are mean and sparsely spread! Meaner and sparser still the further you get away from here!"

Queen Jane sniggered and flashed her crotch at him disparagingly. He was dying to ask why she didn't wear clothes so I told him.
"Jane here" I said "Comes from a far off planet……"

"Ah!" he gulped, catching a glimpse of her lips.

"……some call it Eldorado. You may have heard of it?"

Actually she comes from Fulham but I didn't tell him that.

Suddenly confused Cambridge shook his head. He wanted to ask why I talked in contradictions, but he didn't. He sat still and stared at Queen Jane's pussy instead.

"It is very warm there……" I informed him. "On Eldorado……"

"Humid!" Queen Jane said. "So nobody ever wears anything……"

He wanted to ask if a shag was out of the question but he didn't. He just sat there as still as he could while Jane wriggled and jiggled and began to masturbate casually for all our benefits.

'But' was all he managed to say in almost ten minutes.

"Even in winter" I added, as an afterthought, you understand.

Yes I agree ten minutes is a long time for a girl to play but Jane was enjoying herself.

Was she well, I'd asked her earlier when I'd caught up with her in the street.

"I am the well" was what she told me. "And I am deep"

So I leaned over her and peered into her depths and saw, as my eyes adjusted, a shimmering semicircle of light spoiled in its centre by my own hazy blob of a shadow.

Alas for poor Cambridge and for all of his learning. He could not equate his physics with those baser and much more serious womanly things.

"Shall we fuck him?" Queen Jane asked eagerly, her hand one short swift swipe away from cumming.

He'd be athletic I supposed, what with all the biking he'd done. Muscular buttocks, thighs, those sorts of things. Sterile too, I surmised, from wearing all that tight Lycra.

"Shall we?" I mused, then right on cue Queen Jane came delightfully, with a little shiver, a swish and a grunt.
"Fuck the physics!" she declared as soon as she'd recovered. "Lets fuck the physicist instead!"

He was rather pale and bony and shivered a lot when we got his clothes off. I think he was religious as well 'cos he kept muttering the Lord's Prayer but we got him hard enough to actually screw Queen Jane eventually, not that he was very good at it. Self consciousness or fear shrivelled his willy so small that he slipped disappointingly out of her in less than a minute. Worse, he screamed deafeningly when I fondled his bottom. Screamed and yelled blue murder until Jane grabbed something to stuff in his mouth. His own sweaty underpants I think it were. Resigned to his fate he went all limp after that.

"Do him now, I want to watch!" Jane urged holding his head firmly between her breasts. I thought he might choke or suffocate or something so I grabbed his hair and pulled his head backwards in order to allow the poor man to draw a few breaths.

Queen Jane dribbled onto his forehead, her excitement very nearly uncontainable as she pressed her tits meatily into his ears.

He didn't scream any more after that but he did shiver just a little when I spread his cheeks and massaged a good palmful of Queen Jane's Coconut handcream into his anus. That was not unexpected as she'd only moments before taken it out of the fridge.

No it wasn't rape, not by a long chalk, don't you worry. It wasn't. He knew what we were doing and was loving every minute of it. Men like him know what to do instinctively anyway.

It wasn't rape because not only had he stopped screaming but after a moments hesitation he began pushing himself experimentally against me. I reached for his cock and, finding it now semi hard again advised Queen Jane to get her head quickly down there and onto it. The two of us were in harmony by then, sexually, musically and physically, which has little to do with physics but quite a lot to do with being screwed enjoyably.

Queen Jane masturbated herself to another orgasm while she sucked him. Quite honestly I don't know how she did it, squatting there like that practically underneath both of us, but knowing what she was doing helped to bring our man swiftly to his own jerking, groaning conclusion. Judging by the row he made I am sure he enjoyed filling her throat just as much as he might have enjoyed filling her cunt. As for me I continued to thrust away at him doggedly, having decided, ages before, that hand cream is little use as an anal lubricant. Especially one smelling of coconuts!

"Do you really have a time machine?" he asked me later.
"Don't start all that again" I replied otherwise I'll get Queen Jane to sit on your face!"

"I am going to anyway!" Queen Jane said

"So tell me about your spaceship……" the Cambridge physicist asked, lying back and grinning at her.

© Aahlu 200910.