Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Emerald: Love Goddess of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police
(by Emerald with C. Sanchez-Garcia)
“If you won’t marry me Nell, no one shall have you,” the man in the crooked black top hat and funereal black coat sneered.
“I’ve told you Snidely Whiplash,” said the red haired woman tied to the railroad tracks, “My heart belongs only to Daddy and to Dudley Do Right. I will be his bride or die.’
“Well, die then sweetie,” laughed Snidely twirling his mustache. “But I shan’t be here to see you. I’m off to foreclose the mortgage on your horse breeding farm and trendy red wine vineyard and four star restaurant. Hah! I love being evil.”
Snidely jumped onto his dog sled, “Oh! And the Opera House, that too.” He cracked his long whip, and the dogs ran for the redwood forest baying and yelping.
Nell twisted and turned just as she saw the black plume of engine smoke rising in the frigid air of the frozen Yukon. A trumpet call, the sound of hoof beats.
“Nell!” called a stentorian voice and a tall blond figure dressed in red leaped from a white horse.
“Oh Dudley! Help me again! Help me again!”
Quick hands flew to the ropes, lingering tremblingly over the knots between her breasts. As his hands tugged and reached under the cords stretched across her bosum, Nell's eyes opened wide with sensual discovery. The roar of the train filled their ears. Granite pebbles between the rails began to bounce and dance. “Oh hurry Dudley! Hurry!’
The ropes flew away. Strong, but gentle hands grabbed her fiercely and pulled her from the freezing steel as the blast of wind and snow hit them as suddenly the locomotive's iron thunder hurtled past them. They moved quickly down the hill and watched as the train passed.
Nell stared dully, hotly, at Dudley’s warm boy scout trained hands imagining them traveling over her body. Her eyes wandered downward to his red woolen trousers and riding boots.
“How many times have you saved me from that train, Dudley?”
“This month? This week?”
“Dudley! I owe you my life. I’ve never . . . .I’ve never . . . I’ve never really given you a proper hero’s reward. Not the way I want to right now.”
“Nell Fenwick, your safety and good cheer is all the reward I require. And now that sunset is waiting for us to ride into together. And Snidely is still out there.”
“Not this time, Dudley.” The red headed girl stepped away, her lips parting avidly, warm steam puffing from her full cherry red fellatio lips in the frigid air. Her pale and perfect fingers unbuttoned her coat and dropped it in the snow. “Not this time Dudley,” she said again, reaching for the top buttons of her blouse.
“Nell?” Dudley Do Right looked no longer heroic but very uncomfortable. “You’re going to catch your death of a cold if you do that.”
“Not this time, Dudley.” Her fingers unbuttoned her blouse. She pulled it over her head and dropped it in the snow.
“Nell? I think the emotional trauma of your experience has upset you deeply. I think we need to get you to a warm place and share some hot cocoa.”
“Not this time, Dudley.” The breeze ruffled the lace of her full ample bodice, her cleavage as wide and savage as the mountain valleys of the rugged north. She untied the strings. Drew the halves apart. Her full pink breasts, the nipples tight in the Yukon cold blossomed forth, like gorgeous cascading waterfalls of female flesh. “No, Dudley, not this time. This time you can have me, all of me, you brute. You can take what Snidely Whiplash wanted but will never have. Take me. Take me right now, you big red boy scout. Right here. Save me Dudley! Save my body and soul!”
“But. . .but Nell. I thought we would save that for marriage.”
She threw herself on him tumbling him down to the snow. Her hands flew and the brass buttons of his jacket began to fly like bullets. She thrust a jutting nipple between his lips.
“Mfftt! Nell . . . you’re really upsetting my horse. She’s very jealous.”
The phone rang. Ron blinked his eyes. On the TV, Bullwinkle the Moose was reaching into a top hat on a stage magician table, and a second later pulled out a large grey squirrel in a flying helmet. “I gotta get another hat!”
The phone rang again. Without taking his eyes from the TV, Ron picked it up.
“Where are you?”
“Home. Oh fuck! The club.”
“Emerald’s almost done. You said you’d meet us.”
“I’m coming, be right there,” said Ron, lowering the phone. He stopped. “Mike? You still there, buddy?”
“Ron? Her G strings coming down right now, big guy, you coming here to meet us or what?”
“Mike, I’ve got it. I’ve got the idea. I need to talk to you and Shane and Emerald. All of you. If I’m late, stay there, we gotta talk.”
“What’s your idea?”
“We’re going to make a porno. That is if she goes along with it.”
“Listen to this ‘Emerald – Love Goddess of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.’ I love it.”
“Jesus, Christ Ron.”
"Cheese and Fries, Ron."
"I mean it! I'm already there in my head."
“Just get over here.”
“I’m on my way.” Ron slammed down the phone and grabbed his jacket and snow boots. Fifteen minutes later he was at the club.
To Be Continued Next Week