Benjamin Vance

Adamonde


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down at it; smiled at the thought, felt her head move slightly and heard a muffled chiming. He sat down on one of the well-worn, blue, slatted wood seats and she adjusted herself to fit his form again like one of his old comfortable shirts.

      As he struggled to allay any overtly sexual thoughts about having a naked female something wrapped around him; attempting to replace them with thoughts of assistance, empathy and normality, he heard a little sharp chirp and a quiet rumble. Then he heard the ferry’s docking horn; startled and jerked at its warning blare. At the same time he lurched, the female thing inside his coat squeezed harder, lifted itself up to peer out toward land with one eye and deep into his eyes, and perhaps his soul, with her other. Somehow not surprised by her independent eyes, he whispered, “We’re going home. I think you’ll like it.” She smiled, opened her full lips a little, tinkled like a crystal wind chime in a gentle breeze, and smiled directly at him with both spectacular, painfully beautiful eyes.

      There were only two other people on the front deck at that point, and still none in the foul weather room. No one seemed to care what was under his coat anyway. Initially, he thought it was because of the cold that time of year on the Oregon coast, and onlookers probably thought he had a child protected under his coat with a little tan toboggan on. It could have been his stochastic state of mind and people just didn’t want to see him. She chimed once under his coat. Could she read his thoughts? She chimed in a different way that sounded like confirmation somehow.

      By the time he reached his car and prepared for unloading, he was beginning to harbor thoughts of insanity of a different strain. This lost little thing under his coat could be a figment of his imagination. No wonder no one noticed. She chimed and he thought, “Well, hell if I’m crazy enough to plan suicide, perhaps I am nuts, and this beautiful little thing is just in my mind.” She chimed twice in a low tone and he suddenly thought, “Nuts?”

      Like most people who live in the Oregon back woods, he kept an extensive survival kit in his SUV. Once they were away from the dock a bit and safe from most prying eyes, he stopped and raised the rear gate, opened the survival case and removed a warming comforter to wrap her in. He stood by the vehicle and tried to untangle her from his middle thinking she was uncomfortable. She would have none of it though, and screeched her dissatisfaction. How was he to drive the seven or more remaining miles home with her settled around his waist? He thanked God he wasn’t fat. She chimed one time … in agreement? Before he got back in with his still-attached bundle he reached down to put the seat back and realized he didn’t need to occupy his arms with her since she was stuck on like a leech. The smell, warm texture and sense of her pleased and settled his mind like he’d not noticed before.

      Very carefully, he got back in and settled them both behind the wheel. When he shut the door and restarted the engine, she raised her head and looked around utilizing both eyes, scrutinizing every conceivable direction at once, and the complete interior of his SUV in seconds. It almost made him dizzy trying to keep up with it. She looked at him directly then and chimed several times; smiled with both eyes on his. Then as if for a joke she moved both eyes to their uttermost lateral positions, and then quickly back to center upon him, smiled and chimed; suddenly lost her smile, delicately touched his lips with hers, puffed her breath directly up his nose and dilated her eyes to almost totally black orbs. It made his groin ache.

      He still couldn’t fasten his seat belt, or at least didn’t want to, so in his mildly confused state he took it slow and easy over the damp back country road, to where he and his late wife used to live, laugh and love. He’d lost her over two years earlier to cervical cancer at twenty nine years old, and couldn’t help the black depression that washed over him every time he drove the road “home”. During the rest of the ride from ferry landing to farm house, the little female thing chimed several times while adjusting her grip, but he noticed she was sleeping during the last half of their journey.

      At least she appeared to sleep; since she was breathing regularly and emitting little chimed snoring sounds with every exhale; warm against his chest. When he stopped the car, she didn’t wake up and he paused just to be sure she was still breathing. He gently removed them both from the SUV and carefully made his way from carport to his back door.

      Once inside his comfortable two-story home, he turned up the heat just a little, and walked around unnecessarily inspecting the familiar interior; almost embarrassed to remove his coat. To delay further, he first prepared a pair of his wife’s pajamas for the little hitchhiker, turned down the plush covers on the upstairs guest room bed, and then slowly opened and removed his coat. Standing close to the bureau mirror, he turned slightly to see every inch of her beautiful small entwined body. She appeared to be a lovely growth, bulging from his midsection. He slowly pulled at one leg and it came loose and left a warm spot. He felt her sleepily grasp at his shirt with the toes of her other foot somehow.

      He did the same with her other leg and then her arms. As he carefully untangled her limbs, he inserted them into the appropriate leg or arm hole of the pajamas. He got her fully into the top and bottom and buttoned up without waking. He assumed she was almost in a state of hibernation, perhaps extremely fatigued, like she’d been through a great, long ordeal. As he laid her into the softness of the bed, he saw her grasp the toes of one foot with the toes of the other as if she were still wrapped around him. He gasped and looked again closer, wondering how he could have missed those.

      She had six of them on each foot. Astonished, he thought he’d miscounted so he touched the little things one at a time to make sure. Yep, twelve toes; then he checked the fingers. Each hand had six; at least there were two thumbs … kind of. It appeared the two thumbs, a large-small and small-small, were meant for opposed grasping like the human thumb and forefinger. He imagined they would exert one hell of a grip if needed; combined with the rest of her fist.

      As he looked closer and touched, he noticed each finger had well defined serrations across the areas where he had prints, and lesser defined serrations as they graduated into her palm, which was mostly smooth skinned, but tough looking. Her finger tips and gripping surfaces were rough when he felt them; almost sticky, and he wondered if there were vines where she came from. He gently covered her up and she snuggled down and chimed several times, like she was mumbling in dream sleep. It was then he noticed her eye lids were fringed, not with dark hair, but with something beautifully similar to lashes.

      Later, after a small raid on his refrigerator and pantry, he used the bathroom and puttered around preparing himself for his own bed in the normal way. However, he tarried in the warm shower a bit too long commiserating with himself about what to do with his beautiful new friend. As he finished washing his hair and stepped back under the shower spray to rinse with the sanity-restoring warm water, he was suddenly enclosed in two arms and interlocked pulsating fingers. It startled him a little, but since he’d been thinking about her anyway, or was perhaps warned mentally, he just accepted her presence as a normal extension of his day dream.

      He turned slowly within her embrace and she tinkled, chimed and smiled up at him raptly, with her eyes steady and intense in the wet, warm drizzle. She released her grip around his waist, and slowly moved her hands and gaze to his chest, where she became entranced with his chest hair and nipples. She softly caressed his breasts and saw them harden. Then she smiled up at him and placed his hands on the two largest of her four breasts. She closed her eyes as he smoothed them with his fingers and felt all four of them, large and petite, respond. That pain in his groin returned.

      As her nipples reached their limit of erectness, she opened her eyes to look at him and her hands became like velvet gloves as she looked around his body; smoothed and arranged his wet chest hair. He gently took a hand and inspected her fingers. The small tips and fingers were now smooth as glass and as if she understood, they all suddenly changed to rough and then back to smooth in sequence like a Christmas light array. He smiled; she smiled back and chimed once, never removing her other hand from its caressing involvements.

      He lightly kissed her palm and replaced her captive hand onto his chest, but never lost eye contact. The kiss surprised and pleased her. She continued to explore with her hands, while several of her toes dreamily caressed his warm feet. Her hands eventually found their way to his genitals and she squeaked when he started responding to her touch. She quickly looked down and then back into his eyes with passionately fluctuating