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eBook Category: Erotica/Horror
eBook Description: In these days amidst the rubble of the sexual revolution, the word "protection" has come to have the simple meaning of keeping something unwanted out of the body. Elise finds out that, perhaps, "protection" is as important for keeping things in as it is for keeping things out. Sometimes when that protection is lost, more than just fluids leak out.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Aberrations #16, ed. Richard Blair, 1994
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2003

40 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [92 KB], eReader (PDB) [29 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [15 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [15 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [67 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [87 KB], hiebook (KML) [71 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [46 KB], iSilo (PDB) [13 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [17 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [44 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [26 KB]
Words: 4600
Reading time: 13-18 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

A single drop of sweat, no larger than the head of a pin, disrupted the building pressure wave, brought her to her senses.

One of her hands clenched the taut arch of his neck, muscles locked, straining. Her other hand cupped his butt, vainly trying to keep its rhythm on beat with her quickening pulse.

The bead of sweat fell from his slick brow, spattered against the bridge of her nose and ran its length over her dry lips and into her mouth.

"Jerry, oh God, Jerry."

His head moved sinuously over her. Another bead of sweat dropped to her breast, followed its curve to the hollow of her stomach.

"Elise, yes," he moaned, and his thrusts quickened and deepened.

She brought both hands to his face, held it.

"Jerry, be careful." Another deep thrust brought a rapid intake of breath. She was not sure from whom.

"You promised, remember. Not inside."

But he didn't seem to hear her. One thrust, then another. A pause deep inside her, and his mouth opened around clenched teeth, the cords of his neck straining, stretching.

"Jerry, no!" she cried, twisting beneath him.

A low moan, a gasp, a quiver pulsed through his body into hers. She braced her elbows on the floor, palms flat against his smooth, slick chest, pushed.

But not before she felt the sudden, jetting wetness.

Jerry lowered his sweaty forehead to hers, but she pushed again, rolling him over onto the carpet. Another shiver, intense and slightly unpleasant, as he pulled from her.

Elise was on her knees immediately as he slid from her body.

"God," he panted, "that was a ball-drainer. I need a glass of water."

A stinging slap interrupted the wave of dry exhaustion that swept over him.

"You son of a bitch!"

"Whaa... "

He sat up quickly, rubbing his cheek. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"You asshole!" she spat, slapping his hand away and standing. She walked to her nightstand, his eyes following her in confusion.

Too quick for him to see, she picked up a small item and threw it at him. It skipped off the tip of his cock and landed on his belly.

His arms and legs flailed instinctively to protect him. "What's the matter with you?"

Then, he looked down at the packet.

A condom.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on...."

"You promised," she yelled, the blush of sex giving way quickly to the blush of anger. "I knew it. Why did I listen to you?" She pounded her fist against the nightstand.

Jerry's mind, still fogged, watched the impact of this jiggle up through her breasts. His dick, still not sure whether there was more or not, trembled in primitive anticipation.

"Look, Elise," he comforted. "I'm sorry. It was an accident. I swear. I just got carried away. I ...."

"Carried away! How would you like to get carried all the way to daddyhood? You weren't wearing anything, and I'm not on anything. Do you know what that means?"

He stood and put his arms around her. She stiffened when she felt him--it--poking at her thigh.

"Come on, babe," he said, stroking her hair. "Let's try one more time, and this time, I'll wear it."

He smiled again. "I promise," he said with mock solemnity.

She pushed him away again, this time hard. He fell back against the edge of the bed and hit the floor, scuffing his ass on the carpet.

"This isn't funny. I don't want to get pregnant. I've got a great job. A life. I'm not ready yet! And, I don't want to catch anything," she yelled, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door.

"OK! Fine! But, when I leave, I'm gone!" Jerry heard a faint, sarcastic laugh from behind the door.

He angrily thrust his legs into his jeans. "I can't believe this, Elise," he grunted as he pushed his foot into the first shoe. "It was hot. You know it was. So why kick me out?"

"You promised, Jerry, not inside," she said, muffled behind the bathroom door. "And you did. That makes you a lying asshole in my book."

"Come on, Elise," he said as the second shoe accepted his foot. "A little sperm never hurt anybody."

He ducked, but too late, when he heard the bathroom door open.

A bottle of shampoo came hurtling at him, hit him squarely on the side of the head. The cap rocketed off the plastic bottle, carried way on a flume of iridescent-white shampoo.

"Shit!" he yelled, rolling off the side of the bed and crawling for the door. "You could've really hurt me!" He paused once at the door, looked back at the closed bathroom.

"I only came because I was imagining my last girlfriend anyway," he shot, and scampered for the front door, still on his knees.

The shampoo dripping from him left a viscous, cloudy white trail on the carpet behind him.

"He actually said that? I never did understand what you saw in him anyway, Lise," said Becky around a mouthful of ice cream. "He always was an asshole."

Elise had showered and was wrapped in a thick, terry cloth robe. It was after midnight when she had called Becky, who rushed up from her apartment 10 floors below.

"Well, why didn't you say anything?" Elise rasped, drawing a brush through her wet hair. Even through the soap and shampoo, she could still smell Jerry on her, his cologne and his musky sweat ... his....

Her stomach lurched in anger.

"Hey, you gotta find that out for yourself," she answered, returning the ice cream container to the freezer and licking the spoon thoroughly before putting it into the dishwasher.

"I just keep asking myself why I let him," she said to Becky. "Why? I mean, it wasn't working out great anyway. And he never told me the truth--ever. I knew that. So, why did I believe him?"

"Because he was hung?" asked Becky, smiling. Elise frowned, then cracked a small smile. "Lighten up, it's not the end of the world."

"A whole year wasted on that relationship. A whole year, and what do I have to show for it?" She gestured to the kitchen counter. "A pair of underwear, a rubber and...." She trailed off, looking down at her belly.

"He left his underwear?" laughed Becky, picking it up. "He was a hairy bugger, wasn't he?"

They both broke into a fit of laughter. As Elise fought to catch her breath, Becky opened the condom package and unfurled its limp contents.

"Look at it this way, we could always make a water balloon out of it," she said, fitting it over the kitchen tap and filling it with water.

"Or better yet," continued Becky, tying the end of the water-filled rubber close. "We could make a Jerry doll."

She slipped the water balloon inside the underwear, pulled the waistband snug around its wiggling middle. Then, she took a pen from a drawer and drew a more than passable likeness of Jerry's face on it, right down to eyes that were set slightly too close together and an infuriating, leering grin.

"An authentic asshole doll," she said.

Elise took hold of it, squeezed it into the shape of a dumbbell.

"The trick," explained Becky, "is to see how long you can take out your frustrations without breaking the balloon. I had a girlfriend once, swore by it through half a dozen failed relationships."

"Hmpph," snorted Elise. "The way I feel right now, this sucker may not last the night."

"I mean it, see how long you can keep him alive. It'll do you good. Really. Well, I gotta go."

"You're not serious are you? What if my mother comes over?"

Becky opened the door. "Tell her you're taking up crafts. It's got to be better company than the real Jerry. Bye bye."

Elise stared at the strange creation sitting on her kitchen table, with its weirdly accurate recreation of Jerry's face and the reservoir tip that flopped like a cowlick across its forehead.

She slapped it gently, self-consciously. It absorbed the impact, wiggling merrily. Its comical face and mocking, gelatinous movement suddenly reminded her of Jerry's flip attitude earlier. She struck it a stinging blow.

It wobbled across the table, teetered on the edge before she grabbed it.

That had felt good.

She sighed heavily, rose and locked the door.

Within a minute, she was in her bed and asleep.

And a small wet spot, no bigger than a pinprick, formed on the white cotton front of Jerry's discarded underwear.