No Man’s Land II



It was one of those days when Isis went off to buy groceries, it was also one of her last days in the orphanage St. Maria. Isis had reached adulthood and would now explore the world alone. She would turn her back on the small town and go to France. She had already considered everything carefully. First she would stop in Paris to improve her language skills and to establish herself as a muse. She would become the lover of many admirers, male and female, No Man’s Land as a constant companion. She had imagined everything exactly and had studied the French love films down to the smallest detail. Isis packed the old bread from the kitchen under her arms and took the path through the city park as usual. She always stopped for a moment to feed the ducks and to think. Gilbert followed her, he also knew that an era would come to an end with this day, that he would never see Isis again and that all his fantasies would disappear into thin air, piece by piece.

»The ducks look sad somehow, don’t you think?«, Isis said with a naturalness and calmness. She already suspected that Gilbert was running after her up to this bench where he stood behind her with weak knees clueless about what was happening to him. She turned to him and smiled at him. »I will never stay long in one place and adorn myself with the same people. I am a traveller, you know? No one will accompany me. I can feel it very clearly.« Her smile turned into a certainty that narrowed her lips and lowered her gaze. There it was again that seductive melancholy that made Gilbert weak. He sat down with her on the bench and became aware of his age. He, who had already been married before, he, who already fathered a child and is responsible for all these decisions. He, who was still sitting next to young Isis with shaky knees and was at a loss about how to get rid of his nervousness, except by kissing her grim little lips. Just a kiss that would then breathe a sigh of relief into her tongue.


They kissed passionately on the bench in the city park, while the ducks ate the breadcrumbs at their feet. For the first time in her life, Isis felt male excitement. She has often noticed the bulge in Gilbert’s trousers, but this time she was finally allowed to grab and explore it. She bravely opened his zipper and pushed his limb through the fly. Her eyes widened at the sight of this powerful pulsating cock. She kneeled in front of him and Gilbert could catch a glimpse of her bottom as a mild summer breeze lifted her dress. Young Isis sat in front of him with her black eyes wide open, the asymmetry in her face disappeared as she opened her mouth with desire and Gilbert thought of Vladimir Nabokov’s »Lolita«, a book that always excited him and which he always associated with Isis. This is the moment, he thought to himself, she would take what she wanted. She had waited too long, just like him, for this one moment and he would indulge her with pleasure.

Isis touched his cock with her red fingernails and examined every single vein that spread over his shaft like a map of the world. She looked at the movements in the shadow play of the individual sunbeams and thought of all the countries she would travel. She spat on her fingertips and gently massaged the tip of his glans. Then she licked his shaft almost like an ice cream and looked into his excited face with every single stroke of her tongue. She wanted to watch him and he liked the way she rotated her tongue around his penis as if it were the most wonderful thing she would ever taste. She leaned slightly over him and Gilbert noticed her flawless skin, which was covered with moles, her fine bone structure combined with her pronounced breasts and hips. Divine, she would drive men and women out of their minds with her femininity. Isis grabbed his testicles with one hand and pulled them carefully as she put his cock into her mouth entirely. Gilbert was beside himself, how did she know what to do, how did she know how to satisfy a man? With this self-evident caution, which he had always appreciated in her and had perceived in so many situations, she sucked on his stiff penis and spat on his glans. Then she looked up at Gilbert as his limb disappeared into her wet mouth. Suddenly he saw it right before his eyes: Isis, as a mature woman she would break 100 hearts, just like his, here and now on this bench. How she proudly crossed streets and seas, how she left nothing untouched and how she always delivered something, a sensual message of lightness, of lightness in being. Isis, goddess of birth and rebirth, an Amazon, like a cat, licked every single drop of lust from the top of his glans.


Gilbert hadn’t touched her. Her desire to conquer was too strong, to which he could only surrender helplessly. Isis lost herself in his lap, she loved this animalistic smell, which reminded her of steamed mushrooms when the nuns invited to a Sunday meal. She couldn’t get enough of his excitement and the throbbing feeling in her hands. His penis was already completely immersed in her saliva, everything was wet and warm. Gilbert felt the size of his penis doubling in this greedy little throat as she squeezed his testicles with her fingers. He watched as the wind glided individual strands across her face, closing her eyes with pleasure. He watched as she hastily sucked on his glans and then again took his whole sex into her mouth. He watched as a little goose bump formed on her neck and how she came to climax, how she stuck her fingers straight under her dress to present her orgasm to Gilbert. He watched as she smeared her juices around his penis and then put it back in her mouth. Isis asked him to come with such devotion as he had never experienced before with a woman. He came in her mouth and the seed poured down her chin. She swallowed everything and wiped her voluptuous lips.

Isis, goddess of birth and rebirth, purred like a cat into his ear and left the slack remains to his owner.