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Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Orang Minyak (2)

In the current controversy and mounting public dissatisfaction with oil or fuel price increase, I have decided to continue with my 'oil' story, started with my earlier posting on Orang Minyak – which carries my suggested revised script for the coming film, Misteri Orang Minyak. I of course claim intellectual rights to my works of art ;-) so the producers are interested, they may contact me to negotiate an amount appropriate to my efforts ;-)

Scene 113th

Dian’s P-word stops Norman right in his track, He is shocked yet titillated by Dian’s questions about the Orang Minyak’s penis. He feels the blood rushing to his head, and senses a feverish feeling all over his body. He suspects a stomach cramp coming on, hmmm, perhaps a little lower. He soon realises these sensations reflects his intense sexual arousal.

He turns very very slowly to face Dian, who looks at him with a slightly open mouth, tongue tip still lazily and erotically moistening her ruby red lips and heightening their allure. He feels himself ... eh ... anyway, to continue to appear ‘cool’, Norman avoids the swallowing reflex necessary to wet his very dry throat, a consequence of his ... eh ... 'awakening'. In a very hoarse voice, which to Dian sounds damn sexy … he pronounces:

“If it’s the first type of Orang Minyak, that of a common criminal-rapist who applies oil on his body for the purpose of escaping physical apprehending, then he’s just a normal human being, albeit a criminal, but with normal sized … eh … appendage.”

Appendage eh, Norman feels rather satisfied with his choice of a neutral word – indicating his sophistication, hmmm, that should sort out the PhD archaeologist.

Then he hesitates to say what he has next in mind … but after a quick mull … what the heck, she has been the one who raised the subject. But he decides to sit down first to mask his, ... eh ... you know, whatever. He struggles to maintain a level voice:

“Even if he has a supernormal, note supernormal and not supernatural, sized appendage, the worst case scenario would be a brutal rape, and not the sort of savage ravaging you alluded to.”

“Our police files of rapes by alleged Orang Minyaks do not indicate any atrocious brutalities. The victims did not suffer serious injuries other than slight bruises associated with normal penetrations.”

He said the word ‘penetration’ with emphasis, while glancing furtively at her elegant long legs again. He notices that Dian has by then crossed hers, which brings into prominence one delightful petite ankle, so porcelain smooth and fair. But what sends a shock wave of erotic ecstacy coursing through him like a tsunami is the sight of a slim gold bracelet, the type with cute little bells, locks, keys and hearts, adorning one of those sweet ankles.

There’s nothing more erotic, more fetching, more seductive than the gorgeous ankle of a beautiful woman adorned with a slim gold chain. The trinket somehow magnifies the voluptuousness of the concupiscent picture.

At that moment he feels like dropping on his knees in front of her, and holding that component of her bipedal perfection in caressingly devotion. He fantasises raising her leg gently by her luscious calf in one hand and exquisite heel in the other to his adoring lips. Oh, to kiss her ankle, her insteps, no, to lick them ever so slowly and then passionately suck her toes. He craves to confer all his focussed attention on that gorgeous petite ankle. The pheromones saturate the room, almost overpowering his normal cautious self restraint.

But what could have happened next didn’t when Dian asks the next question.

“None whatsoever?”

That was like throwing a pail of freezing cold water right into his face. His aroused ardour immediately deserts him, his tumescence subsides. Shocked and stunned, he ponders in silence, to buy time for what he would say next, and would he even say it?

His acute mind races back in time to that one incident, a dark chapter, the darkest! Should he bring it out and frighten this lovely woman that he has become attracted to? He glances at her and sees the big round beautiful almond eyes waiting, rather rapturously he thinks.

“Well, ….. there was … one occasion.” He hesitates again, reluctant to drag that episode up.

Dian becomes excited as evident by her rapidly heaving breasts, which pass totally unnoticed by a very troubled and pensive Norman. She challenges gently, almost in a whisper:
“Yes?”

Painfully he mentions the case:
“There was a case … in 1941 … our records showed that a woman was severely brutalised ….. very very brutalised ….. She was ……..”.

He trembles as he mentioned that, a cold shiver running up his spine as if ….....

Dian wraps her arms around herself and tightens her self embrace in anticipative suspense, unconsciously accentuating her physique in ways that would have sent Norman on a wild fantasy if he wasn't already deeply troubled. She asks breathlessly:

“She was ..…?”

To be continued ……..

2 comments:

  1. I have to humby admit, yes, I do have a rather wild imagination. My friends say 'perverted' imagination! ;-)

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