Jul 252012

It began at the flea market.  I found it tucked away between a box of men’s magazines and a sewing machine.  It was a rainy day and not many of the sellers had shown up for today but I was compelled to come anyway.  That might be why I found it first. 

The statue depicted a nude woman with amazing breasts.  The breasts were a size too large for the body and yet the statue stood perfectly fine on its slender base.  It appeared to be made of silver but the weight was too light.  The woman had short curly hair and her face was a curious mix of racial features that made it impossible to identify.  It could have been a white woman, an African, an Asian or a Hispanic.  Whatever she was, she was beautiful.

The seller was confused when I pointed it out.  He didn’t seem to think it was his.  That was not too unusual, most of these flea markets are staffed by people who buy and sell every day.  I just assumed that he forgot that he owned it.  He didn’t have a price tag for it so he charged me sixty-six dollars.  For once, I didn’t haggle and I paid his price.

I didn’t buy anything else that day.  Holding that statue in my hand, I lost my usual passions.  I was no longer interested in old books, vintage typewriters or Death Bringers concert posters.  In fact, I had a giant erection in my pants and my throbbing cock was all I could think of. 

I went back to my car and set the statue down in the passenger seat.  I started the car and then turned it back off.  A drop of rain had landed on the statue and it was sitting on the statue’s right breast.  It clung to the statue’s breast and I was jealous of it.

Please understand that I am not a pervert.  I jack off every other day but I don’t have enormous porn collections on my computer like some guys.  I don’t have a girlfriend but I am not looking either.  I am a regular guy and I don’t usually act this way.

I opened my pants.  My cock was pulsing as I wrapped my hand around it.  Usually I masturbate with tissues or a towel to catch my come but I didn’t care.  I didn’t even spit in my hand as I started to jack off.

It was a rainy day but there were still people in the parking lot.  I didn’t care.  I looked at the statue and jacked my cock.  Those perfect breasts looked so soft and pliant.  I wanted to lick the raindrop off the statue but I didn’t.  It was sexier seeing it there.

I came pretty quickly.  I made a huge mess in my car.  Normally I feel a twinge of shame afterwards but this time I just felt a tremendous relief.  With a hand covered in come, I felt good.

When I got home I tried to find out more about the statue.  There was no maker’s mark and the internet gave me no clues.  It was hard to find anything about a statue of a naked woman.

That night I dreamed of the statue.  It came to life and was a black woman.  She pulled me to her tits and it was like sinking into heaven.  I kissed her breasts while I wept.  I snuggled into the canyon of her magnificent mammaries.  I cried for joy when she invited me to slip my cock between her mountains of wonder.

I fucked her tits.  There was no need for lubricant.  My cock slid back and forth between her tits like they were made for me. 

The tits told me things.  It was the crazy impossible knowledge that you can only get in dreams.  The tits told me who really created the universe.  The tits told me what lurks underground in secret cities.  The tits told me the sex secrets of a celebrity cook.  The tits told me where orgasms come from.  The tits told me why people still vote Republican.  It was all insane and it all made sense.

I came in my dream and I awoke to sticky sheets.  My underwear was soaked with come.  I laughed and thought about the crazy things the tits told me.  I expected that when I was awake, that the weird things I had dreamed would sound even crazier.  Instead, they made more sense.   

That was too much for me.  By the time I finished with my shower I had decided to get rid of the statue.  It was what I usually do anyway.  I often bought things, keep it around for awhile and then sell it on an internet auction site to make room for something new.  I was just speeding up the process.

I took a few pictures of the statue for the auction site.  My cock was hard the entire time.  This time I could certainly see the African features more clearly.  Funny how my dream made it easier to see.

I posted it with a starting bid of sixty dollars. 

I went to work and tried to forget about the statue but it was hard.  So was my cock.  Even though it was a dream, I could remember with perfect clarity the feeling of slipping between those lovely lady lumps.

Harder to forget was the knowledge the tits had told me.  I saw the celebrity chef on a magazine cover and it seemed so obvious what perversions she does.  I felt a tremor from a passing subway train and I knew what the short men underground were up to.  I heard my conservative coworker bitch about healthcare and I knew what he was really afraid of. 

When I got home I checked the auction site.  The current bid was six thousand dollars.  That was crazy.

I had dinner and watched television.  I kept thinking about the statue.  I jacked off twice more.  Coming three times in one day was some sort of a record.

That night I dreamed of the statue again.  This time she was Asian with flawless skin and beautiful black hair.  She pulled me to her tits and I sucked on a nipple.  I dreamed she masturbated me as I sucked.

The tits told me things again.  I tried not to listen but their ideas went straight into my head.  The tits told me why my last girlfriend cheated on me.  The tits told me why people like vampire erotica.  The tits told me what that famous teenage singer really was. 

A loud knocking woke me up.  It was the incessant pounding of an angry hand.  I got out of bed with my cock forming a tent in my boxers.  I glanced at the statue beside my bed and this time I could plainly see the Asian features.  How could I have mistaken them for African before?

The knocking resumed and I rushed to the door, which is weird because I should have been pissed at the knocking at the late hour.  It is hard to describe, but I felt like I was in trouble.  

There were three people at the door.  The one in front was a woman with long blonde hair.  Behind her were a short redhead woman and a tall white man.  They wore black masks across their eyes like they were bank robbers from the 40’s. 

Even odder was their shirts.  Each of them had a cut in their shirt that revealed their right breast.  The blonde woman had a heavy tit exposed that was pale and marbled with pale blue veins.  The redhead had a small perky tit with a butterfly tattoo.  The man’s tit was a bit hairy.

“We are here for the Oracle,” the blonde said.  “You must give it to us and us alone.”

I knew they were talking about the statue.  I mean, what else would three masked people with their tits hanging out be here for?

“Put a bid in like everyone else,” I said.  “Wait, how did you get my address?”

“The Order of the Tit have many connections,” the blonde said.  “We are only the true worthy inheritors of the power of the Oracle and we demand you give it to us.  We will not sully the Oracle by paying for it with mortal currency but we shall make you an offer.  Natalie here will suck you cock or take it up her ass, whichever you prefer in exchange for the Oracle.  Steve is here for the same offer if your tastes are more masculine.  Either way, we want the Oracle.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Or you can have them both if you wish,” the blonde said.  “Hell, you can have me as well.  We number over a thousand members and you can have us all if you desire.  Just give us the Oracle before it decarnates.”

“De-car-what?” I said.  “Wait, what is the Oracle?”

“Newbie! You don’t deserve to know!” the redhead snapped.

The blonde held up her hand.  “No, Natalie, the Oracle appeared to him.  Perhaps he is worthy.  Tell him, Steve.”

The man nodded and spoke.  “No one knows what exactly the Oracle is but when it appears, it grants forbidden knowledge.  It always appears as a great work of art and within a few weeks, it disappears.  It reappears usually around six years later.  Last time it appeared, it was a sexy towel in Puerto Rico.  Before that, it appeared as a jpeg that couldn’t be copied.  Some say that it taught prehistoric man how to have oral sex and-“

“That is enough, Steve,” the blonde said.  “As you can see, the Oracle imparts important knowledge, knowledge that must belong in the right hands and kept away from the uneducated.  It is too important to sell to a random person on the internet.”

“I need to think about this,” I said.  “Come back in the morning?  No wait; come back at six in the afternoon?  After I get off from work?”

“It could decarnate tonight!” the redhead snapped.  “There is so much to learn!  Why is that shitty book about bondage so popular? What is the right way to have a poly relationship?  You have to give it to us!”

“Yeah, come back at six,” I said.  I closed the door.

That was freaky.  I should have called the cops but what they said made a certain kind of sense.  I mean, with all the weird dreams I have had, it was as good an explanation as any.

I locked the door and checked the lock on the back door.  When I peeked outside the window I saw that they had gone.  I went back to bed.

This time I dreamed that the statue was a Hispanic woman.  Her skin was a luscious brown and her tits were topped with dark nipples the color of the night sky.  This time the Oracle got down on her knees and took me into her mouth.  I grabbed her heavy tits and my fingers squeezed and played with the malleable marvels of her flesh.

The tits had a lot to tell me.  They told me of the Order of the Tit and how jealous they were of Oracle’s secrets.  The Order was there when O was being branded.  The Order created the secret pleasure palaces of the Rockefellers.  The Order kept the sex books of Charles Dickens for themselves.  The Order decided who gets to enjoy our wicked world. 

The tits told me that knowledge, like tits, is nourishing when given freely.  The tits told me that tits, like knowledge, can be cruel when denied.  The tits told me that there is a place for both.

The oracle took me out of her mouth before I climaxed.  As I held her tits, she jacked my cock.  I climaxed on her bountiful brown breasts.

The tits had one more thing to tell me.  Covered in my come, they told me that the window for my kitchen had the weakest lock of all.

A crashing sound woke me up.  I heard angry cursing the sound of a dozen people in my house.  Someone knocked down some dishes and someone else tripped over my exercise bike in the living room.  Yeah, I always trip on that thing too.

My underwear was full of come but I couldn’t worry about that.  I jumped out of bed and grabbed the statue.  I thought about going out my window but before I could, the bedroom door burst open.  A black guy with his right nipple exposed charged me. 

I hit him with the statue.  I swung it by the legs so he got clobbered by the tits part of the statue.  The guy went down like a log.  I wasn’t sure if I gave him a concussion or maybe he was having a vision.

A white guy came at me and I showed how non-racist I was by knocking him out too.  The redhead from earlier ran at me and I took her out too so that proved I didn’t discriminate by gender either.

“Just give us the Oracle and you won’t get hurt!” the blonde from earlier screamed.

“Fuck off!” I said.  A big guy was blocking the door to outside but a statue swing to his nuts put him down.  You know, for a secret organization that has been around for centuries, they couldn’t fight for shit.

I ran outside and I saw a white van pull up.  The doors opened and a pretty black girl leaned out.  She had on pink robes that exposed her breast.  I slipped in the grass and fell on my ass.

That was when I noticed the robes covered her left breast, not her right.

The rest you know.  Now I am a member of the Fellowship of the Tit.  I have sworn the Six Oaths on Six Tits and now I too wear the pink robes.  My left nipple is exposed to all for sexuality should be free and never censored or controlled. 

Together we shall learn the secrets of the Oracle and tell the world.  We will bring in a new age of sexual enlightenment to all who want to hear.  We will not turn you away because you read the wrong books, see the wrong movies or like the wrong things.  We are the Fellowship of the Tit and the Oracle is for us all.      

  One Response to “Fiction: The Oracle”

  1. I was thinking ‘right wing/left wing’ politics style, but that may have been me thinking too much as it doesn’t quite match :)

    Cute little story and ode to breasts.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.