INSOMNIA
“Don’t. Don’t make a move. Let me crush you right on the spot. You’ll be punished for invading my privacy in the middle of
the night. I declared its death sentence with a swatter in my hand, but the fly on the wall wasn’t afraid. It was mocking me
with its repulsive compound eyes the very moment I issued the death warrant. The second I raised my hand, it flew off the
wall and crashed into the window glass, and circled the room like a maniac. I patiently waited for the right time.
After this maneuver, it landed on the curtain rod and I took the opportunity to jump off the ground to strike it down. Sure
enough, I missed the bastard embarrassingly, so I sat to contemplate my next move. Why would a little fly make its mission in
life to torment me in the middle of the night? We both knew there was no way out. The door was shut and windows closed;
one of us had to fall tonight.
As I fantasized different ways of destroying my enemy, the insect callously opened another front in the war and suddenly flew
right into my face. A split second before clocking me in the eye, it changed its path and violently circled my head. Now the
only way to strike it was to punch my own face. This charade had gone long enough.
After this infuriating campaign, it flew to the top corner of the room where the two walls met the ceiling. It took a unique
position where it controlled the entire war zone, my small room with nothing in it but a few fresh canvases on the floor, a
little stool and in front of it, the easel supporting my freshly painted woman in nude. She was posing seductively on her back,
impatiently waiting to see the end of this theater.
As I had my eyes fixed on the enemy, I pulled the stool closer with the toes, lifted one leg and stepped up. As soon as I gently
managed to stand on the bench, the fly resorted to a vicious tactic to throw me off the balance. It generated a head piercing
noise and circled the room too far for me to reach and too close to compound my torment. Once again I feverishly leaped in
the air to strike it down and claim its life.
I fell to the ground and the buzzing stopped. The room plunged into an eerie silence; no sign of insect. Anxiously, I scanned
every inch of the carpet searching for a little black spot. It was nowhere to be found.
I gazed at every corner of the room looking for its crushed body when suddenly I noticed the monster sitting where I could
never have expected. It was lurking right in the middle of the long pubic hairs of my beauty. “No, the paint is fresh,” I pleaded
in agony.
As easy as it was to strike it now, it was impossible for me to do so. I loved my art more than I hated my enemy. I was petrified
with my hand clamped over my mouth realizing how much damage it could inflict on my beauty and how easily it could
destroy me.
The hideous creature was clinging to the most sacred part of her body waiting for my next move. I had none as it’d already
invaded my love.
My only hope was it wouldn’t make any sudden moves on my freshly painted virgin. I quietly dropped my weapon and kneeled
before my art and threw myself at the mercy of my ruthless enemy.
Moments later and before my bewildered eyes, the repulsive insect started fondling my woman with its disgusting claws and
shockingly enough she responded by seductive shifts of her hips. I could hear her heavy breathing and see the lust in her
rhythmic movements. She was elegantly vibrating her inner thighs in pleasure. It was difficult to say if the bug was more
satisfied at seeing me in pain or seeing her in pleasure.
She brushed her body on my canvas and took a more compromising position. My beautiful creation opened her mouth and
gasped for air and I could see the tip of her tongue moisturizing her lower lip. How beautiful her rosy tongue complimented
the crimson of her sinful lips. Oh, how painful it was to see my love losing her innocence to a monster in my presence. How
cruel she could be?
With the lustful gyrations of her hips, she further tempted the creature and moments later the insect crawled between her
thighs and disappeared. She then closed her legs and coiled her body and her moaning and panting tarnished the serenity of
the midnight.
She was ravaged before my eyes and the sharp pieces of her pleasure scarred my soul. The vibrancy of her flesh on my canvas
revived my imagination in ways I never thought possible. With her every move, she created vivid colors I'd never thought
existed and with her every act, she made an exotic image I’d never dared to paint in my wildest dreams.
She was drowning in the colorful ocean of desire and with every sudden movement of her sinful flesh she artistically portrayed
her pleasure with the colors of my pain. Helplessly, I watched an insect reshape my imagination, redefine my thoughts and
recreate my art.
I was condemned to witness my devastation for a time that seemed as long as eternity until she was gratified in the climax of
ecstasy and exploded in delight.
Finally the dripping insect flew off my canvas and my love vanished in a palette of fresh paints.
“Don’t. Don’t make a move. Let me crush you right on the spot. You’ll be punished for invading my privacy in the middle of
the night. I declared its death sentence with a swatter in my hand, but the fly on the wall wasn’t afraid. It was mocking me
with its repulsive compound eyes the very moment I issued the death warrant. The second I raised my hand, it flew off the
wall and crashed into the window glass, and circled the room like a maniac. I patiently waited for the right time.
After this maneuver, it landed on the curtain rod and I took the opportunity to jump off the ground to strike it down. Sure
enough, I missed the bastard embarrassingly, so I sat to contemplate my next move. Why would a little fly make its mission in
life to torment me in the middle of the night? We both knew there was no way out. The door was shut and windows closed;
one of us had to fall tonight.
As I fantasized different ways of destroying my enemy, the insect callously opened another front in the war and suddenly flew
right into my face. A split second before clocking me in the eye, it changed its path and violently circled my head. Now the
only way to strike it was to punch my own face. This charade had gone long enough.
After this infuriating campaign, it flew to the top corner of the room where the two walls met the ceiling. It took a unique
position where it controlled the entire war zone, my small room with nothing in it but a few fresh canvases on the floor, a
little stool and in front of it, the easel supporting my freshly painted woman in nude. She was posing seductively on her back,
impatiently waiting to see the end of this theater.
As I had my eyes fixed on the enemy, I pulled the stool closer with the toes, lifted one leg and stepped up. As soon as I gently
managed to stand on the bench, the fly resorted to a vicious tactic to throw me off the balance. It generated a head piercing
noise and circled the room too far for me to reach and too close to compound my torment. Once again I feverishly leaped in
the air to strike it down and claim its life.
I fell to the ground and the buzzing stopped. The room plunged into an eerie silence; no sign of insect. Anxiously, I scanned
every inch of the carpet searching for a little black spot. It was nowhere to be found.
I gazed at every corner of the room looking for its crushed body when suddenly I noticed the monster sitting where I could
never have expected. It was lurking right in the middle of the long pubic hairs of my beauty. “No, the paint is fresh,” I pleaded
in agony.
As easy as it was to strike it now, it was impossible for me to do so. I loved my art more than I hated my enemy. I was petrified
with my hand clamped over my mouth realizing how much damage it could inflict on my beauty and how easily it could
destroy me.
The hideous creature was clinging to the most sacred part of her body waiting for my next move. I had none as it’d already
invaded my love.
My only hope was it wouldn’t make any sudden moves on my freshly painted virgin. I quietly dropped my weapon and kneeled
before my art and threw myself at the mercy of my ruthless enemy.
Moments later and before my bewildered eyes, the repulsive insect started fondling my woman with its disgusting claws and
shockingly enough she responded by seductive shifts of her hips. I could hear her heavy breathing and see the lust in her
rhythmic movements. She was elegantly vibrating her inner thighs in pleasure. It was difficult to say if the bug was more
satisfied at seeing me in pain or seeing her in pleasure.
She brushed her body on my canvas and took a more compromising position. My beautiful creation opened her mouth and
gasped for air and I could see the tip of her tongue moisturizing her lower lip. How beautiful her rosy tongue complimented
the crimson of her sinful lips. Oh, how painful it was to see my love losing her innocence to a monster in my presence. How
cruel she could be?
With the lustful gyrations of her hips, she further tempted the creature and moments later the insect crawled between her
thighs and disappeared. She then closed her legs and coiled her body and her moaning and panting tarnished the serenity of
the midnight.
She was ravaged before my eyes and the sharp pieces of her pleasure scarred my soul. The vibrancy of her flesh on my canvas
revived my imagination in ways I never thought possible. With her every move, she created vivid colors I'd never thought
existed and with her every act, she made an exotic image I’d never dared to paint in my wildest dreams.
She was drowning in the colorful ocean of desire and with every sudden movement of her sinful flesh she artistically portrayed
her pleasure with the colors of my pain. Helplessly, I watched an insect reshape my imagination, redefine my thoughts and
recreate my art.
I was condemned to witness my devastation for a time that seemed as long as eternity until she was gratified in the climax of
ecstasy and exploded in delight.
Finally the dripping insect flew off my canvas and my love vanished in a palette of fresh paints.
