Chapter 31: FRIED BRAINS

Once upon a time ... wrong. This story is in some ways a sea story, aboard EROS right? So I should start it as a sea story should start. Here goes.

This ain’t no shit! There! See, you’re hooked already and you know it’s a real sea story about to unfold, because of that preamble, “This ain’t no shit!”. Fairy tales start “Once upon a time” and we got fairies here too. The worst fucking boring stories begin with “As I look back over the years”. You hear that? Run, don’t walk, skedaddle out of there before you brain is mushed into overcooked oatmeal.

This ain’t no shit! EROS is clear of the traffic lanes, with clear horizons and no blips marring the radar screens. Captain Laura dismissed the extra lookouts for the time being. Hope we didn’t run over anything. Nobody was on watch on the bridge. Laura and I rutted on the deck. After two back to back marathon fucks, Laura is sane enough again, to want to check if EROS is still sailing safe.

Standing but leaning on the dash, because her knees and thighs are still quivering, she eyeballs the radars, the course, glances across the other instruments, studies the electronic chart momentarily, and scans the horizon. Her eyes squeeze shut tight, and she moans, thrusting her ass back towards me. I just penetrated her pussy from the rear. Laura wants to stand watch? I’ll fuck her standing up. Or, with her head laid down on the dash and bent over like this. Good nookie!

Eventually Laura sends me below. Resumes watching alone. On watch. Alone. With her many thoughts and responsibilities. Why did she send me away? Obviously, she wants more sex. She’s sitting in the command chair, bare feet propped on the dash edge, knees apart, and fingering herself. Masturbation is addicting, they say. A lonely life spent at sea, offers plenty of opportunity to become addicted. I’ve heard that sailors jack-off in the shower so often, they get a hard-on when it rains. They call a shower a ‘Splash Locker’. Ejaculation implied?

Anyway, where was I? Oh, as I look back ... come back, only teasing. Things have me worried. Will is gone, so things are left hanging, and are not self tending.

Reckon it’s up to me to take charge. First, an inventory.

There’s the house in the States. Untended, unvisited, for some while.

Babies. Will has three women about to deliver. Xotl, Expedite, and Xavier.

Fukumi delivered a daughter recently, she claims is mine. I’ve no reason to doubt.

Yesterday, Himalaya decided I was to impregnate her, and plans more pregnancies, three minimum, in the future. With my help, willing or not.

The Yosei have been promised a sex education, by me. And Nana. She needs to share some of this load, too. What else.

If you don’t pay attention to women, they’ll seek it elsewhere. There is quite a backlog of untended women to play catchup with. And there’s the big Dilemma.

What do I decide about infecting the entire world with Sally’s nano chip infection?

Cure drug addiction, no doubt. Cure all diseases, Gidget tells me. Cures death even. Seven going on eight billion peoples in the world and new ones being born every minute. People are also dying every minute, just not as fast. Immortality? Would stop the death clock at zero deaths per minute. Or maybe a few accidentals.

How does nature regulate over population among wild animals? Thins the herd. Via starvation, disease, or predation. The nano chips cure all disease. The only predator dangerous to modern man, is man himself. War.

If I dispense health and immortality and freedom from addictions to mankind, will I be responsible for an inevitable cataclysmic WAR!

Starvation isn’t a long term threat. Getting the food from where it’s produced to where hungry people are needing, is a transportation problem. Tektite teleportation can probably ease that problem. Tektites aren’t rare.

How do I cure people of War and convince them to stop making babies? So many?

Until I answer those riddles, I don’t dare give immortality to the world.

The world will suffer, struggle with disease and drug addiction, meanwhile.

Meanwhile, I need to fuck to clear my congested thinking. Who’s the lucky girl?

Maybe Laura has the right idea. If you want something done right, do it yourself. Don’t think, do. I need my brains overhauled. A head job at the engine re-builders.

Okay, here I am, in my, Will’s, hell, mine now, chair looking at my pool from the underside. Cock in hand, ready to jack off for the skimpy bikini clad co-eds. Where are they? Not in the water, obviously.

Whew, horrible smell, something crawled in here and died. Oh, shit! Freezers full of Succubus bodies. If they thawed, they’d rot, and it smells like a morgue in here.

Checking the circuit breaker panel, the breaker for the freezer room is tripped. Resetting it, it trips again. I’m not going in there without protection. Cotton balls with a dab of mentholated Vick’s, in each nostril, and latex gloves. Naked is best, I can shower afterwards, if anything fouls me. I’m as ready as I’m likely to be.

Their bodies really aren’t deteriorated, some belly bloat, but apparently the freezers haven’t been off too long. Of course, these are quality units, well insulated, probably took awhile for the bodies to thaw. Anyway, they’re definitely thawed and putrefaction has begun, barely, but begun. What do I do with their bodies?

What happens if Will releases their spirits and there are no cadavers for them to come home to? I need to fuck something to clear my head so I can think.