As soon as I got home, the first thing I did was check the door. Locked, just like it should. I unlocked the door and opened it. The living room lights were still on and I could hear the sound of someone working in the kitchen. I head into the kitchen and see Harmony splayed out on the floor, knocking her foot against the stove. She had nothing on underneath, so her vagina was exposed to the wind, and fluids dripped onto the floor. On one hand, that’s hot as fuck. On the other hand, I’m going to have to clean it later. 

As soon as I enter the kitchen, Harmony turns her head and looks in my direction. We make eye contact and I can’t help but look down at her, bewildered by what I’m seeing. Even my body is reacting to the weirdness as my eye begins twitching unconsciously. 

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Harmony shrugged. “Horny and bored. Just kinda thinking.”

I sigh and sit down next to her. She looks away from me and returns to looking at the ceiling. I do the same as her, wondering how that alleviates any sort of boredom. Turns out it doesn’t. It just makes me more bored. 

“Thinking about what exactly?” I ask.

“Things. What’s happening back at my homeland? How my family are doing? The regular.” 

You want to know something? Having a conversation with a woman who’s in the middle of a crisis while half naked on the floor isn’t as exciting as one may think. It just turns into a lot of vagueness that I horribly despise. This isn’t a shitty romance novel, it’s real life. Why do we have to keep on bouncing around terms with no meaning?

“You know, you just call your homeland, homeland. What’s the actual name?” We got to start somewhere, and this has to be the best out of all the options. 

“Well, there’s no official name, but everyone at home calls it Juxtevia.”

A chuckle escapes my throat as I hear the name. “Juxten and Juxtevia. What are the odds?”

“Don’t ask me that.” Harmony turned back toward me, deciding that the ceiling is indeed boring after staring at it for so long. “Wanna fuck?” 

“Right here? I thought you were going through a crisis?”

“Still am. I’m hungry though, and would rather do anything else.” 

As she says that, she lifts herself off the floor and jumps on me. My back slams against the floor while my legs are still crossed, putting me in a rather uncomfortable position. Although it was a rather interesting one since Harmony decided to change things up. 

Instead of her hips shaking on my groin, instead her pussy lay inches in front of my face while I could feel Harmony’s warm breath on my dick. With no warning or buildup, my dick slides down her throat and she licks it like an ice cream cone. The dampness of her mouth wasn’t as pleasant as being deep inside her pussy, but it still did its job. 

She shook her hips inches away from my mouth, begging me to go down on her. Fluids escaped from her pink lips and dripped onto my suit. Again, hot, but also, goddammit, I need to clean it. Nothing that I can do about it now except do as she wants me to do. But then an interesting thought came to mind. 

Flexing and stretching my fingers, I take my pointer and middle finger and drive them in between her lips and down her damp hole. The inside of her felt smooth and somewhat bumpy at the same time. It was a comfortable mix that led for smooth in and out action while creating intense friction. I’m pretty sure Harmony felt the intensity as well since her suction power increased tenfold as soon as I began.

The room echoed our cries and moans of pleasure back to us, creating a three-sixty sound environment, where it seemed our moans were coming from two different places at once, if not three. 

Harmony’s ass wiggled as she moved her hips to pleasure herself even further. Her tail bounced around excitedly, and I’m going to be the dumbass here and compare it to a dog wagging happily at getting a treat after performing their orders. It’s the only thing that came to mind, really. Thinking that she did such a good job, I decide to give her an extra treat. 

Picking up my ring finger, I plunge it inside her pussy with my pointer and middle. She cries in pleasure and her suction increases evermore. Her hips swayed faster and her head bobbed stronger. The sound of her sucking at my dick grew ever louder as she tried to get at her food that was stored away in my balls. It wouldn’t be for much longer as I could feel it working its way up my shaft. 

With my remaining strength and pride, I finger her faster, to the point where her juices began splashing onto my face. I didn’t care anymore. I was too invested in making her cum before I do. As a man, it’s my duty to pleasure a woman during sex so much that she has an orgasm that will leave her breathless and exhausted. Without that, then where is my pride? Probably in the dumpster, along with all my other failures. 

I finger her faster and faster and waves of pleasure crash around us. Harmony screams in ecstasy as her climax fluids splashed onto my face and my cum went into her throat. Despite her yelling, she managed to not spill a single drop of semen as she swallowed it all before it could go anywhere. 

Harmony climbed off me and coughed into her shoulder. I get up as post nut clarity hits me like a truck. My eyes become heavy as if I ran a marathon. I feel sluggish and tired, and my head turned fuzzy as it tries to reconnect with reality. Meanwhile, Harmony is beaming as she licks up some semen that spilled onto her hand. 

There are lots of reasons I’m glad I’m not a woman. I don’t need to bleed out of my crotch every month, a crotch goblin isn’t going to be inside of me for nine months straight, and I don’t have to worry about people hitting on me every time I go out at night. Then again, I rarely go out at night, so that really wouldn’t be a worry. However, I’d give everything to not feel like a walking pile of shit anytime I nut. It would be rather comforting. 

“Got your fill?” I ask as I zip up my pants. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Harmony says as she gets up. I hope that she forgets that she’s not wearing anything and tries to hide her tail, but sadly, she keeps it out. “Goodnight.” 

She walks off, leaving me behind to clean up all the mess we made. I sigh to myself, wondering what to do after this. I guess the same thing I always do. Just write and try my best to make people smile. But how do I do that? I don’t know what I’m going to do next, and I don’t even know if it’ll all be worth it in the end. 

After I finish cleaning, I get up and walk to my room. I enter and close my door, the darkness entering my bloodstream. I walk to my desk and sit in my chair, looking under to make sure the flowers are still there. Yep, they are. Just like they should be. 

I boot up my computer and begin coming up with ways to get to the ending of my story. I don’t even know what the ending will be, but that’s what I have to aim for. The ending is what will sell this story. Everything in between just needs to be symbolism that serves the themes of the story that builds up to the ending that will be talked about incessantly in high schools when my work becomes a classic.

But I can’t do that when I can’t even write a chapter two. What am I to do in these trying times? Maybe I should go back and read the first chapter. Get my head straight and remember what all I had written down. 

I read the first line of the first chapter and continue from there.

“Leaves crunching beneath my boots, I walk steadily towards a goal that I have long sought for since the moment I was born. Someone meeting me for the first time would see a haggard man walking into the woods with a smile of insanity painted on his face. But that’s not the truth of the matter. The reality behind this unparalleled smile of mine is due to the fact I’m about to achieve my dreams. 

“It’s right there. I can see it. Taste it. Smell it. It’s so close, but yet so far. ‘So how did I get to this moment,’ that annoyingly inquisitive man may wonder.”

I read the next few lines, and a pang rang inside my heart. I didn’t realize it until now, but I think I wrote too close to home with these next few lines. No, not just a few lines. Entire paragraphs, spanning across a few pages. Each word adding detail to detail about a past that I want to keep shut and locked away. Why did I write this? What was I thinking?

I hover my finger over the mouse, ready to delete the entire chapter and restart. This won’t get me to the ending I desire. I have to erase it for good. Otherwise, I’ll never reach that peak. 

But my finger fails to highlight, and my eyes refuse to look away. I’m stuck looking at that screen, memories flashing by. Painful, horrid memories that I wish to keep buried inside the deepest pits of hell for all of eternity. I want this world to shine as a comedy. I want people to smile. I can’t let this get anywhere out there. My entire cause will be crumbled to dust as soon as someone reads it.

Yet, there’s a sense of fondness in the words on the screen. Words echo in my head, not from my voice, but from something deep within me begging to be heard. Whatever it is, I can’t ignore it. 

I let go of the mouse and begin writing the second chapter. I started this story. I’m not going to erase any of it. Instead, I’ll work with it. Because from the moment I was born, my story was already written.

***

My dream eyes open, and I return to the field of paradoxical directions. The mountain is in front of me again, the clouds swirling with a purpose unknown to me or even the gods themselves. They’re causing a ruckus again as lightning strikes against the rough surface of the mountain. They must really want another autograph.

The voice from before disappeared. I was waiting for him to reappear again to tell me some more advice, but his calming disposition vanished. Now it’s only replaced with this endless, repetitive grass. What good is grass for anyway, except to make people’s ankles itch like a motherfucker?

The mountain still seems so far away. But, it’s right there. It’s right in front of me. I can see it with my own two eyes, eyes that haven’t seen what it’s meant to live. However, as I look at it harder and harder, my eyes become weaker and weaker. I slump my head and fall to the ground, exhausted. 

What am I even doing here? How have I gotten so close only to get blue balled at the very end by some supernatural force keeping me from moving on? I look at the ground, letting my disappointment wash over my tainted skin.

Then my eyes feast on a new sight. A flower, a beautiful purple lilac, swayed in the wind. However, it’s not just one. Several sways in the wind, each one moving their own direction. The only thing they share in common is that distinct violet petals on each and every one of them. 

I raise my head and look around me, and my eyes widen with shock. All around me are even more lilac flowers, all of them swaying in the wind. The state of the wind confused me cause each lilac pointed in their own unique direction. Not one was the same. If one looked like it was swaying vaguely similar to another, on closer inspection I could decipher that it was a hair different. 

I stood up and began walking forward once more, this time focusing on the flowers around me. They were so beautiful and pristine that not even God himself could have created these. They could only be born through such a process that lies outside the jurisdiction of the man upstairs, and I’m sure that made him pissed. If I were where God is right now, I’d be laughing at his face. 

“It seems you enjoy the flowers.” 

The voice returns to me. I must answer the call. 

“Yeah, they’re stunning. I’ve never seen something so beautiful in my life.”

“Good. Now look up.”

I’m hesitant to do as he says and look away from the flowers, but when a disembodied voice tells you to do something, you don’t disobey. It’s rude to do that, and you wouldn’t want to be rude. So, I look up and the oxygen leaving my body gets sucked right back into my lungs. Literally. I breathe in so hard I begin coughing like a maniac.

Right in front of me, the mountain is much closer, and the field breaks away and forms a slope. The slope was nothing but a large hill of dirt and clay that led down to a giant black wall that stretched all the way around the mountain. It looked like the wall was moving to, like it had a life of its own. 

I stare at the wall, sensing the evil wafting off its surface. Even though everything tells me to stay as far away from it as I can, I can’t help but feel compelled to move forward. I want to go inside it, and I don’t even know why. But, I have to. The mountain is on the other side, and I need to reach it.

I start to head down the slope, getting ever closer to the mountain, but as I do, I turn back toward the fields. The lilacs are still there, and they continue to sway in the wind as if they were giving me a friendly goodbye. I may have to accomplish my dream, but I’ll never forget them. 

“Walk into the Wall of Lost.” The voice says. “I will not be able to give you any advice once you enter. In order for you to make it to the other side, you will have to rely on your own power. I hope to see you again, my friend.”

The voice disappears and the sudden quiet shocks me enough that I trip and begin rolling down the slope. Dust and dirt kick up into the air as I scream and shout while covering my head with my arms. I wasn’t in any pain, but the surprise was enough to get me screaming for my life.

I make it to the bottom as a heaping mess, covered in dirt and other earthly substances. Groaning, I stand on my two feet and stare up at the void wall towering above me. The fear wafting off it ordered me to come in. My brain is telling me to run and don’t look back, but I stared at it with determination and perseverance shining in my eyes. I’ve gotten this far. I can’t stop now. Not just because my dream is so close, but because the memories I’ve made along the way are pushing me forward.

With a shout that could intimidate the Romans, I charge into the wall, and it swallows me whole.