A Life On Fire Read Online Free Page A

seemed to have noticed him, she looked at Gerald again, locking her gaze directly with his. Her screams slowly shifted from terror to pleasure, a wicked smile forming on her face. Gerald watched in disbelief as her face, Tracy’s face , twisted into orgasmic pleasure far greater than he’d ever seen on her before. He almost blacked out again as the creature withdrew from her, the black goo pouring from her gaping hole.
       The creatures now stood back, all of them looking at Gerald, but he was still unable to move. He breathed her name again. The leader, still holding his blade, cut her hands loose. She stood up, the goo running down her legs. Gerald could only stare as she stood before the fire, running her hands up and down her body.He knew this couldn’t really be Tracy, but he was unable to look away. The world fell away as she squeezed her breasts with one hand and ran the other between her legs. Two fingers disappeared into her, coming back out then plunging back in. After several moments, her fingers squished together and her hand transformed into a penis. She withdrew her cock-hand from herself, holding it up for Gerald to see. He continued to stare in disbelief as she licked the black goo from its head and began fellating it. She swallowed it down, deepthroating it to mid-forearm.
       When she withdrew the cock-hand from her mouth and it ejaculated more of the black goo all over her face, Gerald’s vision went fuzzy and he collapsed to the ground.

 
     
    Chapter 8
     
    Gerald woke up, the sun beating into his eyes. He raised his head and looked around, no idea where he was. Before he stood up, he rolled onto his back and stared at the sky. It didn’t seem right that the sky should be so blue and serene when he felt so fucked up. He didn’t even know why he felt so fucked up. All he could remember was fire, the woods, and Tracy. What he did know was that his head hurt, his mouth tasted like shit, and he was probably late for work. Again.
       As he climbed over the fence into his yard, Gerald saw the mess of shot up beer cans. He wasn’t surprised he’d spent the evening shooting stuff, considering the way his ears were ringing. He thought again about being late for work, and knew he needed to straighten up. He had a lot of freedom with his bosses, but there was only so much shit they’d take and he’d been dishing it out pretty heavily as of late.
       He went inside, showered, and drove to work. He parked his car, walked up to the building and saw a sign on the door.
       “Closed for maintenance?” he said, confused. He thought they did that stuff at night. It seemed strange no one called him to let him know it would be closed, but then again, he did skip out yesterday and show up late today. Regardless, a day off work was a day off work, and he felt no need to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak.
       As he headed back to his car, he heard someone calling his name. “Mr. McManner! Mr. McManner!” Gerald looked in the direction of the voice, and his mood soured considerably.
       “Oh. Mr . . . uh . . .”
       “Holman. You won’t believe what I brought today,” he said, extending his hand.
       “Mr. Holman. Right,” Gerald said, reluctantly shaking the man’s hand. “I hate to tell you this,” he lied, “but the office is closed today” —he hooked his thumb toward the sign— “for maintenance.”
       “No matter, I can show you right here,” Mr. Holman said, reaching into his knapsack. “Behold, the double-knife!” Gerald stared, expressionless, as Mr. Holman produced what appeared to be a crude pair of scissors and handed them to him. Whenever Mr. Holman showed him stupid things at work, it was difficult enough to be nice, but outside the office, it was impossible.
       “Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!” Gerald said, thrusting the scissors back into Mr. Holman’s hand. “How fucking old are you?”
       Mr. Holman was