Cupid sat back on his shiny pink ass, laid his bow to one side, crossed his chubby little legs, and lit up a cigarette. It was the first smoke that he had succumbed to in weeks. He was trying to quit, but with the new quota system from home office, the pressure to deliver was intense.
"Only so much can be expected, even from Cupid." he groused openly to no one in particular.
Mom wanted him to become a cherub, of course. He rolled his eyes at the notion. He was quite content with the open road and freedom afforded him as cupid. When it came right down to it, he thought, as cupid, there was only one real busy month and he got to spend winters in Jamaica. Shit, you think a cherub has that?
He squinted through one eye as his lips wrapped around the cylinder and pulled. The smoke entered into his lungs, warm, fast, and sensually indulgent like the memory of a lost lover. The coughing fit that followed, reminded him of why he stopped smoking in the first place.
"The kiss of Death. Now there's an office party I'd like to forget. She gets a lifetime of valentines from yours truly and I get the mark of the beast tattooed on my ass and a three-pack-a-day nicotine habit." Cupid hacked painfully at the vibrant lust-filled memory. "She was a looker though, all black and Goth with that sickle and porcelain white skin. She definitely made my arrow quiver."
Cupid took one last drag for old time's sake and snuffed the stub out with his fingertips.
"Let's see," He callously looked over the day's selection of hapless romantics mindlessly walking the park. It was one of those bright cheerful, unusually warm spring days that just screamed fornication. Good thing too, Cupid thought, 'cause this bunch needs as much help as they can get.
His finger bobbed daintily in the air from person to person, like a conductor leading an orchastra. "Loser ... loser ... loser," he shifted his weight a little, and scratched his tattoo. He continued, "loser ... loser ... loser ... wait!" His eyes narrowed, "Yep, oh yeah ... there's a live one."
Cupid sat up, picked up his bow, hand-keyed an address onto an arrow, waited for the up-link connection to post, and then shot his unsuspecting victim.
Tom looked up from his laptop and suddenly felt ill, or was it gas? The park seemed like the perfect place to eat lunch and do some work, but three hot dogs may have been two hot dogs too many. After looking subversively to the right and left, and making sure he was alone, he deftly shifted his weight to one side and prepared to do his part to further global warming.
"Hello," a young woman's voice cheerfully broke from behind him. "May I sit here?" She motioned to the empty spot beside him on the park bench as she walked around into clear view.
The abrupt abort to his vaporous intent happened so fast that he about blew his left leg from its socket.
"Uhmm ... sure, please do." Tom imagined that the grimace of pain on his face wasn't the most pleasant first impression so he mustered the troops and slapped on a smile. The effect was strangely life-like.
The girl sat down and continued, "My name is Syndee with a 'y' and two 'ees.' I used to draw a little heart over the 'y' but I stopped that now that I am going to college. A teacher that I know said that it didn't look very mature and I thought that a more mature person needed to look more mature on her college application. I think college is all about maturity don't you?"
Tom listened to the balloon-like squealing that seemed to correspond to the movement of her lips, as dogs in a far-off corners of the park barked and howled incessantly. Slowly words and syllables formed into sentences as he realized he was being spoken to.
"Oh! Um, maturity, sure, I mean, yea, it's all about ... maturity." Are those real, Tom Thought? His head kept bouncing up and down from her over-sized chest to her eyes and back again.
"So what's your name?" Syndee asked.
Breaking his trance-like concentration, Tom's voice stammered. "T-T-Tit-Tom, Thomas, Thomas Church." He smiled and offered her his hand.
"And what's that?" Syndee cocked her head to one side, bit her lower lip coyly, and pointed to his lap with a smile.
Tom broke into a cold sweat and closed his eyes. He thought; Surely, I have more self-awareness than that? Slowly he looked down into his lap, opened his eyes and saw his hands holding his cold, hardened seventeen-inch, laptop.
"Research." Tom replied, more than just a little bit relieved, "Just a little research."
Syndee scooted a little bit closer as she tilted her head near Tom's to get a better look at the screen.
The aroma of her hair and skin, so close and accessible, began a small series of short circuits in his brain. She smelled like roses and rum and tropical breezes. He imagined himself with her by his side swinging in an over-sized hammock, drinking iced drinks with tiny umbrellas.
Before succumbing fully to his fantasy, however, he caught a glimpse of the URL from the corner of his eye; BigBlondBitches.com.
Like a bolt of lighting his finger flew to close the window.
"Research," Tom choked a stifled laugh, not knowing if she had seen the focus of his current research. "I'm a ..." Tom's mind searched frantically, "... a gynecologist?"
Syndee's deep blue eyes and knowing smile locked onto his for a moment. She knew a lot more than she's letting on, Tom thought. For a moment all the pretense and walls of insecurity fell. He saw the inner intelligent being that this woman hid behind an act of inanity. "Oh yeah, I'm busted, busted, busted for sure."
Syndee slowly slid back into position next to Tom on the park bench, their shoulders touching, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her chin raised slightly but her gaze and knowing smile fixed intently on the person next to her. She hesitated for a minute, and then said with enthusiasm "A gynecologist? I think family history is fascinating! Personally, I am going to be a scientist. I am studying to be a medical train-tran-trans, you know the person who writes down all those big medical words."
And maybe not so busted after all, Tom thought with an internal sigh of relief. She was dumb as a post, but hell's bells, look at those eyes!
A deep sigh left Syndee's lungs. It was like a signal flare that could not be ignored. His eyes dropped immediately to her chest. Tom fought the instinctual urge to look, bounced his chin on his chest a couple of times, and then forced himself to lock his eyes with hers. She smiled that same deep knowing smile, and took another deep purposeful breath. She exhaled slowly.
"Did you know that we have something in common?" Syndee cooed.
He was afraid to look away from her eyes, afraid to confirm that the bulge in his pants was now a prominent mound. He pushed away the feeling that she was reaching into his lap and unzipping his pants. Intelligent people are prone to very vivid day dreams he told himself. Gifted geeks like myself even more so. This is just a Freudian manifestation of repressed sexual anxiety and bad sausage. He felt a spring breeze flow over his now exposed loins.
"In common ... Really?" His eyes widened.
"Our genitals, silly."
His erect cock, practically jumped out of his boxers. Her hand deftly reached inside, grabbed the base of the instrument and squeezed. Her grip was warm and firm. Definitely not a dream he concluded, his mouth had gone dry and his breathing quickened. He looked quickly around the park. A convenient placement of her body, his laptop and the concrete arm rest of the park bench hid most of this public display from view, although, if anybody should walk by or give the couple a second look the charade would be over and police action would certainly ensue.
Tom gulped nervously. "Genitals? Heh, who would have thought?
Her hand moved tenderly over the length of his erection. A small drop of pre-cum appeared like a pearl at the tip. She released the base of the cock and used the tip of her finger to spread the slickness around the head of the trembling soldier. "Oh shit." he whispered.
"Uh huh." Snydee continued, her breath a little more breathy than before. "The genital tubercle is a body of tissue which forms in the ventral, caudal region of mammalian embryos of both sexes, and eventually develops into a clitoris or penis. I had one, and it looks like you had one too, although I must say that yours has grown quite a bit since then." Her hand had returned to slowly milking his dick.
"You learn that in transcriptionist school?" Tom asked, not really caring if he got an answer.
Syndee continued the stroking, and spoke to him through half-closed eyes, "You really a Gynecologist doing research in the park by surfing porn sites?" She smiled knowingly as her hand squeezed hard and emphasized the last three words in metered rhythm.
"Oh shit, yessssss." Tom replied, not really sure what the question was.
"Then I'm a transcriptionist" Syndee answered in a practiced bubbly, vapid sort of way. "I've got a book in my office that has pictures and everything." She looked at him directly and added, "Would you like to see ... it?" Syndee stopped stroking his penis, folded the tortured tubercle back into his pants, stood up, looked at him with desire soaked eyes, and offered him a hand.
"Absolutely." Tom responded, folding his laptop, zipping his pants, and standing.
"Great, and when we are done with the book, maybe we can talk more about your family tree." She smiled, pulled him close, and patted his still erect cock gently through his pants.
Tom let his hand gently glide over to hold Syndee's. Dumb as a post he thought again, But god damn, look at those eyes.
Together, Tom and Syndee, with one "y" and two "ees," walked hand-in-hand, out of the park, and into one another's lives. It was a match made in heaven.
"Boo-Yah!" Cupid yelled out loud as he pulled out a small pink laptop and typed in his report:
Materials survey
Cupid 8675309
Statement of completion
Targeted arrow missed intended male subject and hit female instead. Despite overwhelming odds facing Mr. Tom Church, Female subject recognized his inner beauty.
The following subjects should be moved from active to inactive status as of 12:41 p.m., Feb 14, 2009.
Church, Thomas R. Ph.D, Ed, Physicist
Rhase, Syndee O. MD, OBGYN, Gynecologist
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Submitted by:
nobeuddy
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