The Lady From Afar (verse 1 by Jimmy Boom Semtex/Nick Armbrister. Verse 2 by P.J. Reed)

Happy to share with you my joint poem written with P.J. Reed, a very talented writer.

The Lady From Afar
(verse 1 by Jimmy Boom Semtex/Nick Armbrister. Verse 2 by P.J. Reed)

I see the lady from afar. She looks away, not from me but from something else. I'm unsure what. It appears to be known only to her. Some malady tormenting her that others can't see. Is it in her mind or something else? A mischievous spirit or malevolent demon? With the power to tarnish this lady's reputation, hound her senses and crush her will to live. A frightful expression forms upon her pretty face. Shadows drop over her light green eyes. Real or imagined? Fantastically cruel or fakery beyond doubt? Her long black dress once looked elegant. Now it's stained ever darker - blood! Her own or another's? If another's, what happened? A fight with a lover? A duel with her sister? An insane mother finally coming unhinged? Or herself, falling to the abyss?

She approaches; trailing lavender fields and golden summers through the amber streets. A thousand years of ancient wonder in the greeness of her eyes. Drifts of ebony hair wave to me as she walks. An intoxicating eastern beauty I reach out as she glides by. Black dress caught between by fingers, crumbles to my touch. I breathe her ash, it cuts my throat, makes my eyes bleed red. I choke in penance for my lust and fall screaming to the ground as I see in the distance the lady from afar.

MILF

A MILF was a really good catch. One, a mother of two teenagers, emailed Fire Extinguisher Man wanting to book him for a couple of hours of fun. She said her name was Victoria. The gigolo sent her his photos, price list and services he offered. Details were worked out by email rather than phone and they arranged to meet.

Victoria picked Fire Extinguisher Man in a hire car. She was happily married and wanted some more action. Secrecy was a must, hence the hire car and lack of phone calls. Her email was a new one just for the encounter.

"I like a good time. Normally my husband provides that but I wanted something extra," Victoria explained.

"A few people want that. Not everyone who calls me or meets up with me is unhappily married or single. A few are quite content. So I understand your situation. Discretion is a must," the gigolo replied.

FINAL FLIGHT from 2006, written as 10 x mma free msgs on nokia net phone. odd how my lover is annie and when i roll our warplane, her hair is all wild. like in the crap film 50 shades...

from 2006, written as 10 x mma free msgs on nokia net phone. odd how my lover is annie and when i roll our warplane, her hair is all wild. like in the crap film 50 shades... also that stupid cunt putin the dog should take note, this story is from the soviet/russian side. and portrays them as people. this could happen... actually t720 plane... my error.

FINAL FLIGHT

Harriers hit us at dawn. Did their job pretty well. Bombed our runway, cratering the tarmac in a dozen places, killing six groundcrew, two aircrew and two officers. Our fuel truck went-up, too, as did three planes. We can use the grass to fly; we’ll miss our groundcrew, but we can service our own jets. Sacha and his WSO never got to the shelter. A sad loss, we’ll fight back even harder. Officers, screw them. Fuelling by hand from 50-gallon drums and hand pump is hard, but what we train for. Our planes can’t be replaced. Scorched and blasted to bits, like our lost men. Gone. Time to fly, to hit back against NATO. Yes, we’ll really screw them over. Everyone to the briefing tent, including my Annie. She’s my co-pilot, navigator, Weapon System Operator, and sensor operator. She’s good, that’s why I chose her to be with me in battle. She is second-to-none – and I’m in love with her, completely. If our officers knew of our affair, I’d be grounded – she would be transferred at the least. But, this is war – World War III, to be exact.
We receive a full briefing considering our field conditions. Our officers are jerks, but good at their job. Everyone listened, wanting to miss nothing. We all knew some would die.
To our warplanes! Take the netting off – annoying as it always snags on the eight-blade prop. Open the cockpit canopy. Annie climbs into her front cockpit to do the pre-flight check and bring the systems up. I do the walkround checking to see if anything isn’t as it should be. I get to the weapons and remove the arming pins. Our loadout is two Brightstar IF air-to-air missiles on each outer wing pylon, two Saffron anti-tank missiles inboard, two Medusa anti-radar missiles on the inner wing pylons and, to enhance our range, three drop-tanks: two inboard of the Medusas and a centreline one behind the semi-recessed twin 23mm cannon pack. This Annie armed when I was in the cockpit. Nothing amiss, I climbed aboard and did my own pre-flight, checked with Annie that everything was green, then closed the canopy.
Signalling to the groundcrew to remove the power lead, I initiated start-up procedure: six steps to get our eight-blade prop spinning. Hear the APU whine and turn the turboprop over. Noise building, even in my earphones. All okay on the MFD showing engine parameters. Move the single throttle from idle to minimum to max power. Feel our bird come alive. See Annie busy with her screens. Check to see if she is okay, that our plane is; switch to encrypted channel and quick clearance to go. Yes! We roll out of our earth revetment to the grass take-off strip. Why didn’t the Harriers sow denial weapons? We’d have lost more jets. Full power, away we go, bumping over the grass past burnt-out planes, to the sky. We are airborne! Climb out at shallow angle to stay below NATO radar (we don’t believe it, radar has moved on) and give us maximum surprise.
Our fuel burn is higher but we are so near the front... I scan my three MFD screens, see we’re being picked up by NATO radar, so I drop us lower – our radar-absorbing paint and carbon fibre helps, but death is death. My tension increases.
I see Annie before me, her head moving from display to display, to her HUD, to look outside and back again. I feel the urge to tell her what she means to me, that the songs are true. I don’t. I order a new course to our target. We all fly alone. Good or bad tactics? Historians will discuss this later, if anyone survives this.
Suddenly, our RWR comes alive – NATO fighter! I turn into the threat that my display shows is to my port. I order Annie to turn our ECM jammer to manual then to auto. Should’ve done it before! Could be our death! I switch my HUD to dogfight mode and do a series of turns to check our tail. Clear. There! Sun glinting on a canopy, a flare of flame as a missile is launched. Heat-seeker this close; dropping chaff to break his lock, flares to blind his missile. Come on, Annie, jam his radar, be my eyes. G-force crushes me, my turn takes us to a wing above the ground. Be careful! Climb, full combat power. Turn, roll, face him. His Sidewinder misses as my turn is too tight and the missile cannot follow us. BANG! As it detonates twenty metres away, shockwave from 25 pounds of iron filled with explosives shakes my plane. A Devil slap, white-hot shrapnel cuts into the right wing, two neat holes in the carbon fibre skin. I glance at the holes, at my MFD showing minor damage only, nothing bad, and at the holes again, then at the enemy. I recognise him as an F-20 Tigershark as she shoots past. NATO’s best fighter means trouble.
Annie turns our radar to air-to-air, gives me control of it and our two Brightstar missiles and wishes me luck as I turn and follow him. Almost out of sight, he arcs around in a high g-turn to re-attack. My Topaz radar acquires him, I lock him up with my HOTAS controls and I grunt as a green box appears on my HUD. His coffin, should he enter it. My helmet sights back it up, gives overkill when my enemy is outside my HUD. I bring our nose up, roll wings level and speed towards him. Several hundred feet up and climbing, visible to AWACS and everyone else scanning heavenwards. Growl in my ear. Lock-on! F-20 in my helmet sights, just above my HUD. Press the tit, port Brightstar ignites on a tail of fire, spears away so fast. I half roll, turn and dive away for the deck. I punch out half-a-dozen flares and chaff, ignoring the centre MFD and HUD repeater saying that Annie is dispensing the same damn countermeasures. Close in, our jammers struggle due to his high power agile radar. The RWR gives bearings on two search radar. SAMs. More dangerous than any F-20 – hidden death from below. Cutting it fine, I dive us below tree level, roll into a valley and safety. Our RWR goes black. Glancing around and above, I see a brief explosion over a hill. Did we get him or did he evade our missiles, like we did his – just? Ground warning horn blaring – ten feet limit! I pull-up around fallen boulders, turn around valley sides, follow a winding path. In my element, I lift my wing as the horn goes off again. Annie shouts her curses at me, the war...
Recklessly, I scream at her, my Annie who’d die if I push instead of pull the stick. Who I’d never let anyone else have – like my plane. I killed the damn horn, pushed my control stick and we headed lower. Five feet above level ground, she screams in terror, startling me. I pull-up over a boulder as big as a tank. Glancing at my mirror, I see dust kicked up by my prop-wash. I let our nose rise, kick full right rudder and snap-roll in the valley. Scream my love for Annie, who turns to look at me in terror, some loose black hair twirling with the g-force. She sees my wicked grin and returns it, briefly. I level off as the valley dies out. Annie curses me, says she loves me for always, that I’m the best pilot. I smile. This is as close to marriage as we could get.
Hell! Armoured column! Tanks passing under us. No radar. I line-up to fire my 23mm cannon, see shells strike a tank without harm. Another. Too much top-armour. Troop carrier. Quick correction – got him! Light armour smashed by my explosive and armour piercing shells. I smile at the thought of NATO troops being blown to bits, burned alive and killed. Annie brings up ground scan on the radar, tells me what I can already see: thirty-plus vehicles on one narrow road; now SAM or anti-aircraft defence as the RWR was blank. I fire at another APC. Ordered Annie to lock-up a tank with a Saffron on our next pass. At full throttle, I open the air-breaks, turn on a wing and shoot back down the line. Annie smoothly talks herself through her act, launches. I felt the kick back as our port anti-tank missile left the rail. Down it went to kill a Challenger tank in one go. Soon, our other Saffron did the same, another tank and crew dead. What a run! Better than any training exercise, any day! Around again with guns blazing, searching-out troop carriers that stop to try and save their men. I get one kill, another damaged before my ammo runs out. Annie calls up the squadron and army tank-killing choppers to come to the party. We head-back to base.
Mission almost over, quick exhilaration of battle leaves me tired. Annie snaps me out of my reverie as we change course. My IFF gives off friendly signals as Annie tells me Major Topol, our CO, has congratulated us on the tank find. He is inbound to attack, co-ordinating with two other of our planes. Two others had used all their ammo on pre-set targets, they RTB. We had already lost one jet with crew missing. Annie made it clear that it was so nearly us, I stopped her. I am a better pilot than what-was-his-name? The new guy from Kirov. Newbies die first. Still, my two years on Sukhoi Su-25s in Afghanistan had taught me well. I was hit by small arms fire nine times, lost an engine to a Stinger and struggled back in a dying jet. There weren’t many 25s then, I was honoured by my CO but that meant little when I saw my comrades die every week. Then I learnt to hate officers, transferred out of the war to the new Aeroprogress training centre on the new Sukhoi T.134 attack fighter. My combat experience was needed due to their new design being ready to be shipped to the war. We spent two years deciding what worked, what didn’t. A guerrilla war was nothing for what we planned for: the full takeover of Western Europe by force. I was shocked when I learnt the truth, but I had expected it. NATO had sabre-rattled against our front line re-equipment. Our new T.134 was just such a weapon, along with attack choppers like our Mil 28 and Kamov 52, our MiG 29 and Sukhoi 27 multirole fighters, our Tupelov 22M3 and Tupelov 160 nuclear bombers. Not to mention the nuclear missiles for if – and when – NATO responded. We had new tanks, APCs and all the other equipment we would need. As the T.134 was a two-seater, I was crewed with Annie to show her what tactical fighting was all about. Falling in-love wasn’t part of the plan, our secret and ours alone. Now we needed one another like never before. It was total war.
Suddenly, our RWR came alive with three ground radars searching for us. Immediately one locked-on to us, warning tone changing from a mesmerising sound like a bird to an evil report that I turned down. A second had got intermittent lock. We, me and Annie, talked, planned. Climbing so we popped-up permanently on their scopes, we turned our jammer to manual. Annie gently found their frequency, told the computer to follow any shifts and jammed them every three seconds, on a low power setting. We didn’t have long before a Roland SAN came after us. Now! Annie ordered. She launched our port Medusa in hunter-killer mode, down the NATO radar beam. He would be hit, even if silent. He emitted and died, data linked to us before impact confirmed a hard-kill. Annie launched our last offensive weapon at another site; this was further and launched two Roland SAMs on our tail. I got us in the weeds, Annie dumped countermeasures and jammed them. Rolling and turning over flat fields at 500 knots was fast but not Mach 3 like a Roland. I checked my fuel on my MFD; time to drop our wing tanks. Jolt as they fell free, our centre one will follow when empty. Speed 550 now, no indication of a hard-kill. Both Rolands go whizzing off our track, ballistic. We got past them! Just one IR missile left, better take no chances. Got our map up on my centre MFD, check with Annie for best course. Fuel is okay but combat must be avoided.
On our encrypted radio something comes through. NATO just went tactical with nukes! Annie swears. This is it – they did it, pushed the button. More orders, Annie patches them to me. In code. I go white. All planes RTB to re-fuel and re-arm with tactical nuclear weapons. No words said, just a code sequence unique to each surviving plane. Target data discs would be given when we landed, our bombs loaded with engine running. Hot refuelling. Annie already gave me the two best ways back. I take the fastest. NATO troops fire small arms at us, red tracer arcs past us, missing. Jinking around trees and low hills we come to base. I send our codeword and slow to land. A fast blur distracts me. No! Annie!
Whiteness.

It Doesn’t Snow In November By Jimmy Boom Semtex link

http://www.lulu.com/shop/jimmy-boom-semtex/it-doesnt-snow-in-november/ebook/product-22049602.html

goth story extract

Tattooed arm is aching. Nigel must have caught it. TV on, sounds down, what CD? Nightwish live, takes me back... put it on repeat. Time to get ready for tonight and gothic metal heaven, Rockworld here we come, yey! What to wear? That black number, long black velvet dress, over the shoulder bare flesh, see my cleavage. My black combat boots, must polish them well, shiny. Pick my silver jewellery, my new pentagram with chain and some rings.., time for another bath, wash Nige away, do my hair, towel it dry, comb it. Naturally blonde dyed black adds, no, makes my stunning Goth looks. Me vain? You are kidding, right? Nearly ready. Pop a beer from my fridge, quick ready meal of chicken and black bean sauce. Make up time, bit of pale blusher, black lipstick, bit of eyeliner, black nail varnish. There, done! Off to the club, get 82 bus, Sarah’s on it. Hi gal, okay? You look great in your purple mini. You too, sis. Hey, your new tat is great! Here, see... new today. The Inkpot? Yes...

IT DOESN’T SNOW IN NOVEMBER

Hell, I slept through my alarm! Goddamn stupid thing. Got to get ready and meet Sarah at the pub for lunch – she’ll kill me if I’m late! She’s got a temper worse than mine but she’s my best mate. Time for a quick bath as I do my breakfast – two toasts. Put a CD on, hmmmm... yes, The Gathering’s Mandylion album. How I love that! Hard to believe ten years have passed since it was released. Still sounds so good. Toast is ready, Marmite – my favourite. I think. My Mother did something right; no one to take the piss now as I munch this, yummy yummy in my tattooed tummy!

            My bath’s ready: better not let it overflow, we know the last mess it made. I can be so forgetful... throw my old faded Metallica top on the floor and jump in. Just right! Lots of Rose-scented bubble bath, as sweet as me! Wish Karl were here to scrub my back. Aah, Karl... my fingers slip between my legs to my most secret place. You made me sore last week but how I love to fuck you.

Dressed now in faded “black” jeans, size 6 cherry red docks and my beloved Tristania t-shirt, I look in my full-length mirror – yes, I look good. Their last album Ashes was a stormer, loved them live too. As good as Nightwish but who would I fuck? Tarja or Vibeke? Decisions, decisions...

Stereo off, leave my flat, locking the door, say “Hi” to my neighbour Jason, an old Ted from the 60s. I heard your music again, a new one? Yes, sort of. Look, it’s Tristania, even got the t-shirt! Saw them live too, they’re from Norway. I’ll copy you the CD if you want? Well, lass, not Teddy boy music then? I could tell you some tales... I’ve got to go, another time maybe, Jason. I’m off to the pub to see my friend and have lunch. See you!

Quick walk to town. Just love this late August sun. Oh! That man’s staring at me, he must like me! Give him a quick wave as I turn the corner by the churchyard. Then duck into the pub – there’s Sarah! Hi, how ya doin? Great, me too. What ya having? Usual. Yes, me too. We’ll have these, then order lunch. This is nice lager...

We laugh and joke only as good friends do. Sarah just broke up with Mark but likes Liam but he fancies what’s her name? Sarah may have a girlie fling with Wendy for post break-up blues relief. I don’t know, what’s she like? We order food and a beer, chicken tikka masala for me (I’m the hot one!) and lasagne for Sarah. More small talk, two or three jokes and our meals arrive, are eaten. Another beer, yes, see you again tonight, say hi to Wendy for me.

Feel a bit tipsy now, nice feeling though. Time for a stroll through town. Cant believe TJ’s has Xmas decor up in summer! Usual shops, think I’ll get a blouse at Oxfam. Nice ethnic style, that’ll do. Time for my tat now! Booked in 2 p.m. – Inkpot, Oldham’s finest. Nice dragonfly on my right shoulder to balance out my unicorn on my left. Yes, I’m okay guys, how’s business? A nod. Needle sound – love that so much! Good you’re busy, can’t wait till mine’s done. We only do the best Gemma! I know lads, I’m planning on more. I can show this off tonight at Rockworld. Tat looks great, bit sore but no regrets. Just removed the bandage, give it some air.

What’s the time? 4 p.m.! Time to go to Nigel’s for one of his famous coffees. Hi Nige, how are you? Oh Gem, what a nice tat! Just had it done? Yes, you like it? You should get one. Näh, you know me and needles and blood and pain... Later. Great coffee. Hey, another one? No my love, bed first. He takes my clothes off, kisses me, strips before me. How I love his body! I grab his cock and he plays with me. Onto the sofa, his fingers up me. More kisses, his cock up me. Ten minutes of rampant thrusting wet sex! I cum twice, he once. Another coffee, naked. Dressed and away, great to be fuck buddies, his coffee’s a bonus. He should have a café. Back home, hair all over the place, slight smirk. Will people guess? ?

            Tattooed arm is aching. Nigel must have caught it. TV on, sounds down, what CD? Nightwish live, takes me back... put it on repeat. Time to get ready for tonight and gothic metal heaven, Rockworld here we come, yey! What to wear? That black number, long black velvet dress, over the shoulder bare flesh, see my cleavage. My black combat boots, must polish them well, shiny. Pick my silver jewellery, my new pentagram with chain and some rings.., time for another bath, wash Nige away, do my hair, towel it dry, comb it. Naturally blonde dyed black adds, no, makes my stunning Goth looks. Me vain? You are kidding, right? Nearly ready. Pop a beer from my fridge, quick ready meal of chicken and black bean sauce. Make up time, bit of pale blusher, black lipstick, bit of eyeliner, black nail varnish. There, done! Off to the club, get 82 bus, Sarah’s on it. Hi gal, okay? You look great in your purple mini. You too, sis. Hey, your new tat is great! Here, see... new today. The Inkpot? Yes...

To the pub, Tequila shots followed by £1 Carlsberg bottles. Done it this way forever.., oh, look at the lads there in My Chemical Romance tops. Let’s chat... Four beers and two phone numbers later, to the Salisbury. More lads numbers, two more beers. To the club, free in, we know the owner and I personally know a doorman! Intimately, lol. Straight to the bar, cider to be different (we are Goths). To Nerissa in the Goth room. Skeletal Family, Sisters and Nina, back to the 80s. To the metal room, get a free drink so easy from the lads. Show them how to head bang, my hair everywhere – a black fan... Def Lep, GnR, The Cult and more. To the punk room, shit! Nearly fell over getting pissed. Where’s Sarah gone? There in a corner with a lad, he must be all of 15! Her hand down his leather jeans, their heads moving together in slow circles, tongues deep. I feel left out! I like the blonde girl, like myself when I was 18. What’s your name? Stacey Lee. Hi, I’m Gemma. I like your tattoo. What are you into? I’m a writer. At the moment Gemma I’m at uni doing History, I want to be a lecturer one day. Wow! A babe like me! Brains and body. I kiss her, she doesn’t resist me. She tastes so good! I catch Sarah’s eye. We both wink, fin! Stacey Lee leads me to the toilets; we enter a cubicle and put the seat down. I sit, she sits on me facing me legs open. I take her red dress off and carefully place it on the cistern. Stacey Lee has a great body! Her hand moves under my black velvet dress on my bare flesh, to my cunt. She makes me cum. I take my dress off and place it with hers, together. We fuck, we have promiscuous sex.… Later we dance, we kiss, I get her a drink as thanks, we part.

See Sarah chatting with the lad, she smiles at me and comes over. We hug, kiss once and I tell her what I just did. She smells my hand – Stacey Lee’s smell. She shows me her hand. It glistens. I know what it is...

More beer, more songs in the Goth room. Hell, time to go! Crash at Sarah’s. Get some chips, night bus back. What a day! Must do it all again next week!

JUNIPER’S DAUGHTER - FRAGMENTED WHOLE

JUNIPER’S DAUGHTER - FRAGMENTED WHOLE

   Emma was twenty nine, from Manchester and single. She had a four year old daughter called Kate. Emma was an only child, her mum died of cancer and her dad lived in Sheffield. They’re not very close; he was an absent father. There were only two childhood friends who stuck by each other through a variety of events: first boyfriends, starting work, getting married, having kids and splitting up. All shared experiences. Alison and Lisa were Emma’s friends, knowing one another since Secondary School, aged eleven. Unbroken bonds of friendship, unbreakable?

   They all went on holiday to Spain after leaving school, at sixteen. Getting drunk, chasing guys, being chased in return, met some Spanish lads, were rescued by English teenagers and fled the fight that erupted. The lads fought it out; the girls ran and laughed madly. This holiday brought them closer together and more mad times followed, both good and bad, over the coming years.

   Emma went for her first tattoo with Alison and Lisa when they were all eighteen. Each had a butterfly design, the same but with different colours. Emma’s was blue, Alison’s green and Lisa’s red. Now over a decade later, the tats were a bit faded but still looked cool and got noticed by people who asked what they meant and why all three girls had them. Symbolic in their meaning of a shared bond of friendship, joint experiences, and freedom. When their butterfly tattoos were done, they came from events that happened in each of their lives. Within the space of two years of their holiday, the girls met various boyfriends. They were happy at first.

   Emma met Pete. He was twenty eight, a decade older than her, was a car salesman and appeared a gentleman. His niceness stopped there. Over the three months they were together, Pete used, abused and seduced Emma. Then left. Emma was a mess. Her friends were there for her, wiping away her endless tears and listening to her pour her heart out.

   Alison met Oliver. He was a year older and on the dole. Being a nice guy, she was okay on the fact he was skint all the time. They had a two week romance; he took her pride, a grand in cash and most importantly, her virginity. And was never caught, getting away with it. Alison was Oliver’s doormat. Emma and Lisa were there for her.

   Lisa met Jason, a twenty five year old boxer. He used his skills on her dad after a late night out after her father complained. Jason got the red mist and left the older man in a wheel chair. The six month romance meant nothing to him, nor did his three month stint in jail after the assault trial collapsed. Lisa was terrified to give evidence. The other girls never left her side and supported their scared friend.

   The three girls swore to look after each other and never let a man upset, use or abuse them ever again. They went and got inked, having butterflies on their right shoulders, individual eye catching tattoos. Each picked a colour, their favourite. The tats represented closeness, friendship and femininity, especially in bad situations. They played like butterflies, flitting from bar to bar, from man to man before any got too close, taking what they wanted, always being free. Past lessons were learnt, a lifetime promise of friendship endured. Would it endure a new holiday and all it entailed? They would book it next week and find out.

   Emma reminisced on her youthful times with her mates. Now, they were still young and planned a new holiday back to Spain to remember their earlier times and have a new adventure. Emma attracted all the lads, nice ones and bad ones. Her blond hair and grey eyes captured many hearts, she was a fey lass who was a Tinker Bell and liked to get her way. Being a party person she loved girly get togethers in one of their flats or a night out. Many such nights were in Manchester, involving loud music, smudged lipstick and lots to drink. Especially for Emma, who was single. She paid a baby sitter to watch Kate. Her job as a fashion designer paid for her frivolous life style. On a recent night out, the girls planned their new holiday to Benidorm. Emma had a range of new clothes to take, Lisa a new hairdo to show off and Alison cash from her new job to spend.

***

   In Spain, it was hot. The three girls were on the beach; all wore fetching bikinis and nothing else. Their figures were still trim and very noticeable by the passing guys in swimming trunks. Ignoring these, the girls acted aloof and chatted amongst themselves. Emma whispered, “I do like that blond body builder over by the rocks. You see him?”

   Lisa and Alison glanced to where their friend indicated with her head. Their glance was quick and went unnoticed by the large muscled man. But he noticed their sexy bodies and the promise each scantily clad body held.

   “Very nice. The question is there’s three of us and one of him. Who will have him?” Alison commented, nodding slowly. She risked another glance.

   “Yes indeed. We could all share him,” laughed Lisa, rolling her eyes and smirking.

   Emma stammered a reply, “You what? That’s naughty Lisa. I saw him first, so if anyone should have a choice of him, it should be me. Anyhow, he’s not my type. Too much muscle. He’s probably a himbo.”

   “I think he’s quite sexy, all that toned flesh and who cares if he has the intelligence of a moron,” Lisa replied, “he might be able to go all night!”

   “Yes just imagine that, all night long. Making love seven times, not getting a wink of sleep,” Alison added to the conversation, which was rapidly going downhill. Her face was a look of sheer delight.

   “Right you two, enough of that! We came here to have a break and chill. Yes we can party but enough of that talk, for now. I want to get a tan,” Emma said, silencing the talk. The other girls glanced at the man, to Emma and then out to sea. What were they thinking?

***

   A day later in an exotic Spanish restaurant, the girls were eating a three course meal and were dressed to kill; very sexy looking ladies. The starter had been eaten and they were waiting for the main course. Conversation was light and on a number of topics. Lisa was chatting to Emma when Alison’s attention was drawn to the door. A man walked in. He was instantly recognizable, even in his expensive Armani suit which clung to his body like a second skin, barely hiding his fine physique.

   Crikey! It’s the body builder from the beach. I hope the other girls don’t see him. It’ll be handbags at dawn if they do. I wonder if I can get the man’s room number? I’d love to spend some time with him, thought Alison, running a hand through her hair. Her eyes remained on the man. This wasn’t unnoticed.

   “Alison what are you staring at? Is our conversation boring you?” Lisa commented, looking at her friend.

   Emma stopped talking about music and followed Alison’s stare. It led straight to the muscle man that Emma had originally spotted on the beach. Oh my! He looks fit!

   “It’s him! The muscle man,” Alison said, regaining the use of her voice.

   “He looks a million dollars,” Emma gasped, suddenly feeling light headed.

   “Hands off girls, he’s mine,” Lisa added, nodding in affirmation.

   The damage was done. The body builder spotted the ladies and walked purposely over. In seconds he was with them, towering over the girls. He was a man mountain of muscle and sinew. “Hello ladies. How is your evening? You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” he politely asked.

   Silence descended, each young woman was speechless and spellbound. It was really him, the body builder! He looked even better close up and in a sharp stylish suit. A walking god! If a man could be called beautiful, this one certainly was.

   He dealt with the embarrassing silence by saying, “I’m sorry for interrupting your meal. Maybe I’ll come back another time?”

   “No, no don’t go. Please join us, there’s another seat next to Lisa,” Emma stammered. Was she taking charge of the situation or hoping the man would pick her? It was always about boy meets girl, wasn’t it?

   “Yes, sit here next to me,” Lisa said, moving the empty chair out.

   “Thank you, I think I will then. It’s an honour to meet such nice ladies, it really is,” replied the man, smiling. He sat down in a graceful movement. His size didn’t make him clumsy; it accentuated his poise and style.

   “Nice to meet you. We saw you on the beach the other day,” Lisa said. “I’m Lisa.”

  “Ah yes, when I was doing my exercises. My name is Rudy,” the muscle man said, introducing himself.

   “And I’m Emma and this is Alison,” Emma added, forcing a smile. This is one I can lose. It’s blatantly obvious that Alison and Lisa want to bed Rudy. Just look how Alison looks at him and how close Lisa is sat near him! I must keep cool and not look an idiot. Or he won’t want me.

   “Nice to meet you. I think you all look very nice and lady like. I do approve,” Rudy complimented.  He closely looked at each lady and saw their butterfly tattoos. The girls’ shoulders were all bare on this warm evening. “And what are those? You all have the same tattoos?”

   “Yes, we have the same body art,” replied Emma. She wanted Rudy and tried not to show it.

   “Do you like them?” asked Lisa, only inches away from Rudy. She sensed what he was capable of and could hardly compose herself. Did he know the affect he was having upon the girls?

   “They’re quite unique and it’s different when you all have them and each is a different colour. Yes, I like them very much. What do they mean?” Rudy replied.

   “They mean closeness, friendship, femininity and freedom. We’re all free spirits,” Alison explained. He can have part of my free spirit later, oh yes!

   “No man will ever pin us down or capture us,” Emma said. Was it too late now? Was the cat amongst the pigeons? “We had a number of bad experiences with men some time ago and decided to stick together and never let it happen again. Not with any man.”

   “That’s some reason to have tattoos, it really is. I’ve never heard anything like it. A powerful reason,” Rudy gasped, taken in by the girls’ bond of unity and determination through the years. Did he know that he himself was right now, a very threat to what the girls had agreed to all those years before?

   “Yes, it’s quite different isn’t it?” Lisa commented. “Ah look, here comes the waiter with our main course meal.”

   The young Spanish waiter hurried over carrying three plates full of food. God knew how he didn’t drop them. The conversation stopped while the waiter took the empty plates and glasses and took new drink orders. Rudy asked if he could order a cold beer. It was okay to, Emma nodded.

   “I’m very impressed with you all, thanks for letting me join you,” Rudy said. “Everything about you all is unique and beautiful.”

   “We’re glad you joined us. You have a male beauty all of your own,” Emma whispered. The other two girls were strangely quiet. Were they planning something?

   “Thank you Emma. It’s an honor to join you.”

   The drinks arrived and the four people quietly drank. Each was left with their own thoughts and views on this encounter. Lisa and Alison both read one another’s minds and planned to steal the muscle man from Emma, they knew she liked him very much from the way she avoided their eyes. When would they both act? Would Emma be mad?

   Minutes ticked by and dessert was ordered, along with more drinks. Emma and Rudy chatted amongst themselves, as if the other two girls weren’t there. Lisa and Alison exchanged words now and again. Neither was happy but not showing it. Finally the meal was over and the bill ordered.

   “Let me pay your bill ladies,” Rudy suddenly said. Before anyone could object, especially Emma, he took his bulging leather snakeskin wallet out and took out the cash. With one hand he indicated for the waiter to come over and paid the bill. He left a large tip.

   “Rudy, you didn’t have to pay our bill,” Emma stammered, taken aback.

   “We don’t even know you,” Lisa said.

   “Thanks a lot Rudy,” Alison added.

   “The pleasure is all mine. Thanks for letting me join you and drink with you. I must go now, I’ll see you soon. Of that I’m sure. I’m staying in the Sheridan Hotel, Room 109,” Rudy smoothly replied. He was a really professional player. All of the girls would be calling up to his room.

   “Thanks see you soon,” the girls replied together, as Rudy finished his drink and left the three women. Their eyes never left him till he was out of sight.

***

   Lisa went up to Room 109 to see Rudy, creeping out of her friends' room as they soundly slept. She went up the dark stairway to Rudy's room. Shadows danced over her mousy brown hair and her grey eyes shone with mischief. In her mind she knew what she was doing was wrong; her friends would be hurt but her heart said do it. Lisa climbed the stairs. At Rudy's door, she waited for a minute composing herself. Then she knocked. Seconds ticked slowly by and her heart thudded in her chest. After an age, his door opened. Rudy stood there, before the darkened room, naked. A candle illuminated the scene. How romantic thought Lisa, oh my, he's naked!

   "I knew you would come to me," Rudy whispered, stepping aside to let Lisa enter. He looked longingly at her bare legs under her white t shirt.  

   “Yes, I’m here. Did you think I wouldn’t come?” the young woman said to the alpha male who stood before her.

   He closed the door and stepped toward the girl; she didn’t step back. His arms embraced her and she felt fire course through her body, something making her feel alive. It was her who initiated the kiss. She placed her hand on his neck and drew his face to hers and they kissed.

   She is perfect. Lisa is wonderful, Rudy thought as he held Lisa. His strength was immense but he treated her like a butterfly, for he knew she was delicate even though her kisses were passionate. For ten minutes they stood kissing, eyes closed letting their emotions rule their hearts. Feeling of joy and well being made him reluctant to break their embrace. It was Lisa who did so.

   “To the bed…” was all she said.

   It was six steps to the bed and they took their time. Rudy lifted up and took off Lisa’s t shirt in one swift movement, she didn’t object. It fell to the floor. In the candle light Lisa was stunning, so was Rudy. This was how it was intended all along, from exchanging looks on the beach. The body builder pushed his lady gently down onto the luxurious King Size bed; she was so small under his enormous frame. His cock was erect and it brushed her thigh, her body shuddered.

   “Oh Lisa, you’re perfect,” Rudy whispered, kissing Lisa once on her lips and moving down her face to her neck. Here he lingered for a minute, sending her into dreamy oblivion. Moving lower, he found her breasts and kissed them in turn, sucking her nipples and stroking her breasts. I’m in heaven, nothing can be better than this.

   “My Rudy, you’re perfect. Take me,” replied Lisa, holding his erect member in her hand and guiding it home. She wanted him and she knew he knew it. Moving her body, she guided him home and accommodated his eight inch cock. He thrust deeply into her and she wrapped her legs around his pounding shapely arse, to endure his rapid rhythm. It was obvious he knew what he was doing.

   Groans came from the couple; they were two people in harmony with one another. Each giving something to the other and creating a union they would never forget. Lisa started to cum; her orgasm built up and jolted her body making her move even faster. Her hair was over her face and she screamed and shouted Rudy’s name when he mercilessly made love to the maiden before him. When he shot his load, he moaned and groaned like a man possessed, looking at her through half closed eyes, he struggled for breath while kissing Lisa. For an age their orgasm was a joint thing, created by them. Finally it was over…

***

   Later, Lisa crept back down the stairs to her room. She silently entered and went back to bed totally unaware of Alison watching her and knowing what had happened. After half an hour, Alison rose and went to Rudy to repeat Lisa’s actions. Was this all planned or coincidence? Lisa was soon asleep, tired out by her crazy passionate time with her new lover.

   Alison climbed the stairs and went to Room 109 where Rudy was. She knocked lightly and didn’t wait for a reply, quickly entering and shut the door. Her eyes became accustomed to the candle light and she saw a dark form on the bed; it was Rudy, completely naked. She ran her eyes over his shadowy form and knew he was facing her. Lisa beat me to him but I’ll have my fun with him.

   “Hello young lady. I see you took my invitation and came to join me,” Rudy commented. With one hand he beckoned his guest over. She immediately joined him.

   “I know you made love to my friend Lisa, I saw her return. Now you can have me. Show me how you treat a lady,” Alison replied, running her hand up Rudy’s thigh. His skin was smooth and the muscle firm like steel. They moved closer and kissed.

   Rudy moved his hand up Alison’s silk nightshirt. He felt her body and moaned deeply, his hand finding her breasts.  What an angel.

   “Do it now, do it now Rudy. Make love to me!” she whispered between kisses.

   “Soon my dear, soon.” He held her in his perfectly sculpted arms like an artist holding a unique artwork of infinite value.

   Their kissing was a river of lust, building to a waterfall of love. There was no time here, only two lovers. When they made love, it was slow at first and then frantic like it was the end of the world. Alison cried for the love she had never known, for her heart had never felt like this. What was happening? Was her soul finally healed after years of pain from being broken hearted? Not even her friends knew how much she hurt inside. Only her frail green butterfly tattoo had stopped her from committing suicide.

   “Don’t cry my dear Alison. I’m here for you. Shh, don’t cry my love. No one will hurt you, I’ll protect you,” Rudy consoled her. He kissed her tears and held her close. He felt her body shudder in sadness and stroked her hair, soothing her.

   “I’ve been hurt so many times and no one understands. Now even my friends. All I have known is pain from men in my life, they use and abuse me. You’re the only one I’ve ever told that to,” she quietly said. A single tear ran down her cheek.

   “A woman should never cry. Not over a man. You have an inner strength that few people have. I respect you for that. Don’t be sad Alison; you make me sad because you cry.”

   “You don’t need to be sad for me,” Alison tried to laugh. “I’m a mess inside, it’s as simple as that and I’m not strong. I’m weak and just a boring girl.”

   “I admire you spirit and honesty and beauty. No, you’re not weak. You’re special and beautiful and I love you for who you are. Really, I do,” Rudy commented, kissing her once on the forehead and holding her close.

   “Thank you Rudy.” Alison closed her eyes and dozed, her sadness replaced by happiness and a new belief in herself.

***

   Emma woke in the morning and stretched in her bed. She looked tiredly round their room in the new dawn light and stopped in horror. Alison wasn’t there! She knew right away where she was; in Room 109 with Rudy! Lisa was still asleep and Emma quietly got up and went to confront her friend and her new lover. She was numb and angry. How dare Alison do this! How dare she, she knew I liked Rudy.

   Coming to Room 109, Emma opened the door and peered inside. Two people were in bed asleep. She knew who they were.

   “Hey you two, how dare you do this!” shouted Emma. Tears of rage streamed down her cheeks and the two sleeping forms came rapidly to life, waking up with a start and sitting up in shock. Tired eyes stared at the intruder.

   “Eh? What the hell?” Rudy said.

   “Oh no, Emma...” from Alison.

   “That’s right Alison, its Emma your friend. Or we we’re friends before you did this!”

   “Calm down love, its fine. Don’t get stressed,” the body builder said, placing an arm lazily around Alison. She moved closer to him.

   “Don’t you even talk to me, you himbo! You haven’t got the sense you were born with!” Emma snapped.

   “Emma chill out, we’re having some fun,” Alison commented. The look of betrayal was clear to see.

   “Shut your fucking mouth you bitch! Don’t ever call yourself my friend again, do you hear? I mean it Alison.”

  “Emma, don’t say such things...” the naked girl stammered, realizing what she had done. She looked at Rudy and to Emma.

   “This has gone too far, I want you to leave the room. Now!” Rudy shouted, pointing with his free hand. The other still embraced Alison. It was obvious they were in this together. Emma was the intruder, in the room and in the sense that she hadn’t fucked Rudy, not part of his little club.

   “Before I go, I’ll say this. You two deserve one another. If I ever see you again Rudy I will claw your fucking eyes out and cut your prick off, do you understand? As for you Alison, this friendship of ours is over. You made your choice when you joined lover boy there.” Emma gained strength through her anger and turned to leave the room. She was stopped by a final verbal bullet from Rudy. It was devastating.

   “Give my regards to Lisa. She’s a good lover, different from Alison. Shame I never had you Emma, I’d like to see how you compare to your friends.”

   “Fuck you both...” Emma shouted and left the room. She didn’t close the door.

***

   Lisa was in bed pretending to be asleep. She knew Emma was upstairs at Room 109 and she doubted it was three in a bed, more like a confrontation. This was proven to be correct when Emma stormed into the room and hurriedly grabbed her things. Lisa sat up and watched her friend put on a pair of cut down jeans, her sandals and head for the door.

   “Wait, Emma, please don’t go. Where are you going? Come back,” Lisa cried, red in the face. Her betrayal was obvious.

   “Be quiet!” snapped Emma, picking up her mobile phone, money and passport.

   “I can explain. Listen to me.”

   “Fuck off you whore! You should be up there in Rudy’s bed with Alison. I know what you did, you pair of cunts!”

   “Don’t call me that. It was only some fun. It’s still not too late for you to fuck Rudy. We planned it all out,” Lisa said, crying.

   “You’re even more of a cow than Alison is. I’m flying home alone. Our friendship is over. Don’t try to call me ever again.” Emma left the room and slammed the door.

***

   Emma was aboard Olympic Flight 457 heading back to England. She tried to sleep but couldn’t. In her mind she saw Alison and Rudy in bed together and Lisa doing the same thing, earlier on. My two best friends, conniving against me to fuck some body builder they don’t even know. Both of them knew I liked him and fancied him. How dare they! We can never be friends now, not ever. When I get back home, I’m having my stupid butterfly tattoo removed. It doesn’t mean anything now, except pain and betrayal. Those bitches!

   The silver airliner flew majestically through the clear blue sky at forty one thousand feet. On the weather radar a big cold front was visible, reaching up to forty five thousand feet. The jet couldn’t climb over it; it was at maximum height. The pilot radioed Air Traffic Control and changed course. On a parallel course ten thousand feet higher and invisible to radar or the human eye, a silver flying disc followed the jet. A witch was inside. She had a bad feeling something terrible would happen.

   Yes we had some good times but now it’s time to move on and think of myself for once. I’ll change my number, email and block those two bitches on facebook. If they contact me, I’ll have them done for harassment. Time for a new start. Some good can come out of this, Emma thought, opening her eyes and looking out of the window. She saw huge grey clouds and jagged flashes of lightning. Then felt the turbulence hit, making the twin engine airliner lurch sickeningly. The Fasten Seatbelt sign came on and the pilot made an announcement on bad weather and a change of course.

   Juniper’s Daughter knew the airliner was heading for a storm. The black grey clouds towered up to her altitude. Opening up a vision window, the witch saw the jet slowly turn away from the wall of cloud. It was too late! Lighting reached for the frail metal plane. And found its mark.

   “I must save the airliner from the storm and all aboard,” Juniper’s Daughter commented. She dipped the nose of her disc and arrowed down to the plane.

   “Just brilliant,” Emma muttered. The passenger next to her heard her remark and nodded in agreement. Things became bad. A flash of lighting and a bang shook the whole airframe. A small of burning filled the cabin.

   Suddenly the turbulence became worse and the jet nose dived. Emma checked her lap belt and took a deep breath; her stomach was in free fall. Something was wrong. The airliner was in a dive and not flying level. Was the pilot trying to fly under the storm?

   Juniper’s Daughter was flying a hundred metres above the crippled airliner. She saw lighting repeatedly hit the plane. She energized her laser system to hold it in a tractor beam and guide the jet to safety. When she was just about to lock on it happened. Multiple massive bolts of lighting hit flying disc and a surge of energy smashed into the jet with a billion volts, upending it and sending it off course, upside down. The witch was knocked unconscious and was unable to help. She was in danger of dying herself. Her craft fell to the ocean like an autumn leaf.

   A whine indicated the engines were at full power and the plane vibrated. Luggage storage lockers popped open and bags and duty free bottles fell out, concussing several passengers. A stewardess who was trying to calm the passengers was thrown to the ceiling like a spider in a web. Panic gripped the cabin and the airliner rolled upside down, beginning its death dive into the cold choppy ocean many miles below. Two hundred and sixty seven souls were aboard the Olympic airliner. One was an upset young lady called Emma.

***

   Lisa and Alison stayed in Spain having fun with Rudy. They were certain Emma would come round and forgive them for their little erotic escapade when they got home. Lisa was watching the news in a bar when a news flash came up of an airliner going missing over the Mediterranean. She knew it was Emma’s plane. Sickness filled her entire body and she ran screaming from the bar, looking for Alison.

   Alison was with Rudy in the pool, chilling out and enjoying time together. Both looked up in alarm when Lisa ran towards them. She was hysterical. The couple hadn’t heard of the air crash.

   “Emma’s plane has crashed. She’s dead...”

   “What? What did you say?” Rudy asked, incredulous.

   “Lisa, you’re not making sense. We’ll see Emma next week when we return home,” Alison said. Is Lisa playing a joke on us?

   “She’s dead, God damn you! Her jet went down; it was on the fucking news!” Lisa screamed, weeping and collapsing to the floor. Alison got out of the pool and went to embrace her distraught friend. Rudy athletically climbed out and ran to the bar. He had a word with the waiter, who switched on the satellite TV. Rudy turned up the volume and they all heard the truth:

   “Olympic Flight 457 nose dived into the Mediterranean Sea after flying into a thunderstorm. It is feared all aboard are lost. Wreckage has been found and the search for survivors is continuing. No one has been found alive at the moment. Three bodies have been found...”

   Rudy’s eyes never left the large plasma TV. He started to cry. This was his fault! Oh my God. What have I done? If I hadn’t seduced the two girls, Emma wouldn’t have left for England and she’d still be alive. How can I live with this? What have I done?

   Alison and Lisa wept like children. They were as guilty as Rudy. What had they done?

***

   Two days later three bodies were found at the base of a cliff, smashed apart on jagged rocks and soaked by ocean spray. The broken body of a body builder and two English ladies with butterfly tattoos. A fourth body, with a butterfly tattoo, lay trapped one thousand metres under the Mediterranean Sea, in a crushed and broken airplane. Four young people, three who had endured so much, were together in heaven.

   Juniper’s Daughter was trapped in her damaged flying disc four miles from the airliner on the seabed. The silver flying saucer lay on its side against a seamount, debris littering the immediate area. Exotic alloys were holed and damaged. Internal systems were compromised. Not even the Devil had been able to do this before. Was he behind the thunderstorm? Had he finally won his eternal war of darkness?  The witch’s craft was invisible to sonar and not found by those looking for the jet. For her there would be no rescue. Was the witch dead too?

***