Panic, Sex & Science

The clock slid past 3 am when I woke up. Couldn’t sleep because of too many problems and worries cluttering my mind. The house is full because, hearing about my mom staying with us, and about her health, my two daughters rushed home for the weekend — together (they usually alternate, if not skipping weekends in rows). But now things are different: they wish to help me, to see their granny, to comfort her. To be together!

My togetherness in bed, with hubby, has headed to quite different proportions and dimensions, heights and depths, physics and metaphysics. Before 6 am, the shivers of panic were not even a memory (gone ghosts). But why discharge on you? Wasn’t the poodle on the sheets enough?

Let’s talk about sex, and science. “Science is boring, sex is exciting,” says Juliette – a new character from a short story (that I wished to finish in August). And because it’s a weekend-to-share, why not share with you the beginning of this anticipated story (I bet you’ll never know how it ends!).

(Excerpt from “____, Sex & Science”)

“At Gilles & Juliette, every fifth exploration is on the house!” Writes and speaks the text in the hologram, idly rotating around a golden pyramid. This shiny billboard, well, not exactly a billboard because it’s three dimensional (and round), is one of a kind. Or so you’ll hear Gilles bragging on the terrace about every morning. Tourists, hikers and casual bikers, stop for a sip of coffee, a bite of croissant. They drink the crystal water from the spring and aim for the valley of the eternal shadow. Not before a last exercise in cordiality: “Yes, merci monsieur, your offer is enticing. The pyramid logo is really cool. Thank you!”

“This is no logo, sir. But a miniature hologram of the real one. We’ve got the pixel pyramid and every fifth exploration is on the house. Ain’t that a deal?”

“Indeed it is. We’ll keep in touch. Au revoir.”

“À bientôt.”

Gilles knows that the tourists are making a fool of him. Or they think that he’s making a fool of himself. Whatever, what do they know, these citizens chasing for a shadow.

“The square silhouette over the valley baffles them, mon amour.”

“Oui, Juliette. What a tourist attraction. Works great for madame mayor. The biggest business in the modern history of Peillon. Amazing, don’t you find?”

“Easy to find things that amaze the many.” Responds Juliette tossing a handful of pineapple cubes in the artichoke juice that she just poured in two coconut shells. “Here, lunch is ready!” After serving her man, she stretches herself out on the divan to rule the terrace, and the entire street ahead.

“Yes, dear, spread a bit wider if you can. It’s more likely to catch new customers with your celestial charms. Hope you didn’t shave…” He’s bending to peep. “Oh mon Dieu, told you not to shave!”

“But I didn’t. Look!,” she spreads at 165 degrees, “didn’t touch the hair around the pussy, just thinned the landing strip.”

“Thinned? You call that a landing strip? It gives me the sensation that you’re playing string theory pleasantries with me. I can barely see it. Why did you do that?”

“A guy told me that my pussy looks beautiful when smooth. He said something about the curvature of mons pubis and the modest pre-eminence of my clitoris.” As she speaks, Juliette allows three fingers from her left hand to gently caress the geometrical parts that she described.

“Hey, monsieur! Would you mind sharing your lady with us?” Three bikers have halted their buzzers on the roadside. Each of them stands up, bike between legs, smiling his teeth out while exposing his manhood like an introduction for the lady. De bon ton et comme il faut.

“Ah, monsieurs, soyez les bienvenus! Did you know that at Gilles et Juliette…”

“…every fifth exploration is on the house!… Yes, hah, hah, we certainly know. You don’t remember us, do you?”

“Well, no… not exactly…”

“Early in the morning, on our way to the valley of the shadow, we’ve stopped by for a hot coffee, a crisp croissant and this heavenly water from the spring. You told us about…”

“Sure. I remember now. Come up here with us.”

The first to jump over two steps with every leap on the stairs has reddish-brown, long and rebellious hair. Up to the knee white cotton gaiters in flagrant contrast with a pair of black boots, hiking boots. And a green, dark green, rucksack strapped to his sturdy but somehow hobbity looking body. About eighty percent of named body covered in coarse ginger fur.

“Bonjour. I am Erik.”

“Hi Erik. Have a seat.” Responds Juliette invitingly. Her eyes involuntarily scanning for Erik’s penis, still lost in a fiery pubic forest.

The second man seems to have an age. No less than twenty. No more than twenty-five. Tall, athletic and blonde. So fair his hair that you’d say he’s shaved all over his body. Hiking black boots, white cotton gaiters, kneepads, armpads, shoulderpads… and the rucksack… all black and white. The chain helmet, folded backwards around his neck, is hidden under the gear but we shall assume that this guy is sporting an all black helmet on the highway.

“Bonjour. My name is Sven.”

“Oh, Sven. Hellow Sven. What a wondeful dick you have! Like a weapon! Please, sit down.” Juliette couldn’t help herself.

The third biker is taking his time to reach the rustic roadway patio of Gilles and Juliette’s. Short dark hair, vivid hazel eyes, a fully tanned and aesthetically pleasing body. No textile lines, no gaiters, no boots, no gear whatever. This man is completely naked. In his early thirties, probably. And all natural. He looks around.

“Buongiorno a tutti!… Ciao bella! Io sono Luigi.”

“Ciao Luigi!,” giggles Juliette, “vieni qui, siediti.” She offers to share the divan with Luigi, who kisses her hand before making himself comfortable next to her. Buttcheek near buttcheek. The coziest divan of the entire Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur area.

“Would you guys enjoy a glass of pineapple juice?” Asks Juliette in a crystal voice while capturing the attention of her man with the tip of her nose. The guests nod in agreement and Gilles rushes to the kitchen.

Before he returns, Luigi has already seized the second. “He’s submissive, your man. Guess that he loves cuckolding, your man.”

“He does, dear. He is bisexual and very submissive when I want him to.”

“Good. Sometimes I play the servile slut for Erik and Sven and…”

“Come on, Luigi, will you shut up? We’re here to fuck the lady, not to hear your gay stories,” punches Erik with a nerve under his red moustache.

“This makes us three, I suppose…” Whispers Juliette in Luigi’s ear.

“Voilà le jus d’ananas!” Gilles walks the five massive glasses on a plastic plate until everyone has grabbed one. Then he comforts his ass on a green pillow, at the end of the bench. In lotus.

“Erik!,” speaks Juliette, “what’s your plan with me?”

“I find you very attractive, Juliette. Noticed you from afar, up on the street. You seem so at ease in your birthday suit. And you don’t wish to make it obvious, like forcing out your nudity on the watchers. Not at all. You’re rather shy, even when daring to spread your legs wide, the way you did when you made us stop our bikes. My brains short-circuited. I wish to taste you, to sniff the hair from your armpits. Hope you’re not shaved there too…” She raises her hands up, slowly, taking care not to spill the pineapple juice. Sparse and short brown hairs wake up to the breeze. “Oh! Wonderful armpits,” exclaims Erik, “cannot wait, cannot wait! Then I’ll feast on your pussy, lick your ass and…”

“No ass licking, dear. No anal.” Points Juliette drily.

“…Oh… Why not?”

“Because! This is rule number one, dear. Go on.”

“Then I’m gonna fuck you, lady. Hope that pussy fucking is allowed…”

“It is. I’m quite a fan of cream pies,” inferes Gilles on a pertinent note from the corner of the terrace.

“Sven?” Asks the lady to keep the conversation going. “How about you?”

“I wish to hold your ass in my arms and fuck your pussy like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Just this?”


“And you, Luigi?”

“Well, well, adorable Juliette. This may sound a bit complicated. My desire is to romance you. Tell me everything about you and I’ll stay and listen for hours and hours. Ask me anything you wish to know about me and I’ll answer with most consideration. I want to dance with you, to sing and to laugh together with you. Want to breathe in your marvelous hair, to tongue you behind the ears, to sense your erect nipples against my torso, to squeeze your buttocks in my palms, to sniff and lick your moisty pussy and then, eventually, to make love to you. Slow and gently. Long and nicely. Soft and courteously. I wish you to think of me after I’ll be gone. A lot. I wish you to miss me.”

“You sound like my man, Luigi dear.”

“I’ll think about talking to him as well. But first, it’s you, our prima donna!”

Silence settles over the patio, allowing for sporadic road buzzers to be heard and noticed. The lady and her four men indulge their minds in contemplating the traffic. Many minutes later, Erik’s vigilant eyes detect no more pineapple juice in the glasses. This makes him sip the air from his for a last time. Standing up on his hiking boots, he exclaims with the courage of a leader.

“I’ll be the first! Is there a room or can we do it right here, on the terrace?”

Gilles regards the stocky man with a sarcastic smile. “They had laws before but now they’ve changed. We did it here then but now we’re commuting to the pyramid.”

“Pardon, sir. The pyramid? Which pyramid?” Erik’s hand returns above the level of his elbows. The man looks a bit staggered. No less than Gilles himself.

“The pixel pyramid, sir. Take five and get one for free. Haven’t I told you?”

“Take five? What five? Don’t understand…”

“Five explorations. A hundred euro per tour, one is free, the fifth. It makes four hundred euro for five explorations. Per person!”

“Ah. I definitely understand that we must pay. This is okay. A hundred euro is a good price and let me tell you that your lady is priceless, by the way.” Erik winks at Juliette. She winks back at him. “But the thing with the pyramid, or pixel pyramid, that’s way beyond me. Could you please enlighten us, Gilles.”

“That will make twelve hundred euros upfront. Before my man begins to prepare you. This is our second rule.” Marks Juliette candidly.

“And no anal? Not a bit of it?”

“Not a bit. No anal. This is our first rule. Told you, dear.” Standing up, the redhead walks among her clients with a colorful cube of glass. She takes Erik’s hand, first, turns his palm upwards and puts the cube in it. “Keep tight!” He tightens his grip on the transparent device. Like a squeezed lemon, the cube sprinkles a fair amount of rays up. A vaporous face of a nice young lady, intertwined by the beams of light emerging out of the cube, smiling at the holder, asks Erik to confirm the transfer of four hundred euros to the account of the commercial entity ‘A Gilles et Juliette’ – given IBAN, given address, given bank, tracking number and comment ‘sexual services’ included in the protocol. Erik confirms verbally, then with an iris scan, then by moving the cube in his left hand so that the second palm print will conclude the transfer.

Juliette takes the cube from Erik and passes it to Sven, then to Luigi.

Gilles brings a blackboard on the terrace.

With a corner of chalk between his fingers, he commences.

“This irregular line represents the mountains surrounding us. See? They look the same. More or less. This square, I drew it in perspective, is the shadow in the valley. The one that you’ve just visited. And this, six hundred meters above it, is the pixel pyramid. A pentahedron. This is where…”

“But, excuse me, Gilles,” interrupts Sven, “I can’t see this object floating above the valley. Is it there?”

“It is. You’ll enter it shortly. Five times! The fifth for free, remember?”

Sven, like his other two companions, stares mute at the naked man, with the tiny piece of chalk in his hand, drawing now a dotted line from “Here is the terrace…” to “…merely two meters below the basis of the pyramid so we can jump and press the surface with our hands to get inside.”

Pushing a Persian rug away from the middle of the terrace, Juliette reveals the rectangle made of stainless steel, almost as large as the carpet.

“This is our shuttle,” says she. “Erik, you’re the first. Join me!” Hesitant, the leading customer allows her hand to pull him in the wake of her seductive moves. Like a scared calf, he follows her. Intrigued and proud to beat his fears, Erik wants to produce a gorilla gesture of victory but the iron had already swooshed him, and the woman, off the terrace.

The next second, they are back. Copious swarms of sweaty droplets hang, and often drip, off his tired fur. Wheezing, the man bends to press his fists against his knees. “She… whee… is… whee… the… whee… sex… wheez… machine… She…”

“Take your time, Erik. Take your time. Relax now.”

“Sven, you’re next!” Juliette has to make a few steps aside in order to grab Sven’s hand. She pulls him after her, up over the middle of the iron plate. And swoosh. They’re gone.

A second later, Sven is brought back by the woman. He fainted, apparently, because what other explanation to provide for a man lying down on the plate with his escort kneeling and holding his hand in hers.

“The pulse slows down. Hey guys, would you please carry Sven to the armchair? He will be just fine. Give him a couple more minutes.”

The only apt guys, Gilles and Luigi, do what Juliette has asked of them. Erik is not yet done wheezing. Taken aback by Sven, wishing to say something, he enters coughing… “Wa… water… some water, please.”

Allowing gravity to press Sven’s shoulders against the soft leather, Gilles speeds up, down the stairs, with an empty recipient. Few moments and he’s back, handling Erik a liter of fresh spring water. Still sparkling.

“Drink!” The other half, that didn’t land in Erik’s stomach, washes the sweat off his chest and belly. “Are you okay, sir?”

“Yes, Gilles. I am now. Take care of Sven. Maybe he needs some water too.”

The servile host runs down the stairs again, runs back up with a refill and attempts to wet Sven’s lips.

“Let me do this,” comes Luigi with a hand on the recipient. “First, I kneel close to my dear friend. Then I take his pulse, to make sure that everything is alright. Now I’ll fix his head with my other hand. Bit forwards, like this. Here, to his mouth. Oops…” Luigi spills all the water on Sven’s chin, neck and torso.

“What the…?” Sven makes eyes wide and springs on his feet. Confused, he looks at the faces around, until encountering Juliette’s. “Oh, my darling, are you all right?”

“I am, dear. I am. How about you?”

“Glorious. Did I come for three times in a row inside you?”

“Four times, dear.”

“And did you enjoy it?”

“Loved it!”

“Why can’t I remember the fourth time?”

“Because you collapsed as you ejaculated. Falling unconscious inside the pixel pyramid is quite risky, dear.”

With an astute eye, Luigi measures Juliette from the tip of her nose down to the tips of her toes. Pensive for less than a second, he pats Sven on the shoulder.

“You’re good now, aren’t you?”

“Heavenly good, my dear Luigi. This woman knows how to get the best out of us.”

“Very well then. Seeing that Erik is coming together as well…” The water has energized him. Realizing that he needs more water. Hating to be treated like a patient, he went down the stairs, to the spring, to drink and sprinkle his hairy body with more water. As he returns on the terrace, Luigi cuts it short. “Hey Erik, it’s my turn now. To go with the lady.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your time. We’ll have lunch. Think a steak will do. A huge one!”

Unimpressed by the perspective of eating a steak, Luigi walks to the center of the iron plate and stretches his right hand towards Juliette. An inviting gesture that she rushes to accept, taking his hand and stepping on the plate. When both her feet were pressing, like his, against the magic carpet of steel, the three men around hear the swoosh. And see nothing.

Gilles waits a moment, or two… Three… “Four, five, six…”

“Why are you counting, Gilles?” Asks Erik, a bit surprised.

Gilles won’t answer. He is counting. So Erik turns to Sven.

“Did Gilles count all the 3,426 seconds that I’ve spent out there with his lady?”

“Nope. He didn’t. Because you were back in one sec.”

“You don’t understand, Sven. I have spent about an hour chasing, catching and fucking that lady out there in the woods.”

“Woods? What woods? I had her at the gym. All my buddies were watching. I lifted her. I played with her. She is amazing!”

“Have you counted?”

“Yes, three ejaculations. But then she told me that there has been a fourth… when I fainted.”

“No, stupid. The time that you’ve spent in there with her?”

“Dunno. Two, maybe three hours. Or more… Can’t remember exactly.”

Erik throws a suspicious look towards Gilles. From the receiver’s end, the doubts of a furry red man can be as well percieved as hostile.

“Do you wish to learn some new information from me, sir?”

“Yes, Gilles. This is what I wish. For you to tell us what the hell is going on inside that pixel pyramid!”

Hostile it looks, hostile it sounds.

(…end of the excerpt.)

You can read the finished short story — Rebecca Has a Dream — before this unfinished one here (if you wish to give a cent short of a dollar) or brutally click this link to download the PDF for free. Totally!!


See Doris on Patreon too!

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