Harry Art - Chapter 3

Harry rounded the corner as the rays of the sun pierced his eyes like famous porn stars pierce the holes of their prey. He recoiled slightly, but carried on forward. The street was long, and every pavement tile was a treasure cove to his destination, the lake. He walked with a swagger in his foot and a smile on his face. He danced with every step, often with passing pedestrians staring at him in a horrified and deadened manner. The smile radiating on his face was joy filled in his mind, but to others it was reminiscent of a trucker right before he picks up a prostitute. Before long Harry had reached the lake; it was a body of water surrounded by trees, and some grass. He had never seen anything so invigorating. Turning to his side he saw an old man on a bench reading a book.

"I had been waiting till I had sex before I came here," Harry stated boldly at the older gentlemen as he gazed out over the lake. The old man looked up from his book, those horn rimmed glasses twinkling in the sunlight as he checked frantically around the bench that he was perched upon. He began breathing heavily while staring at Harry.

"Son, if you came on this bench I will beat you so hard," The older man remarked darkly. Harry was confused as the older man stared at him for an answer.

"No, I had sex elsewhere," he simply replied, the whine in his voice cut through even the most awkward of silences.

"Well it seems to me that you may need to purify your soul," the old man said with a judgemental look on his face.

Harry played with his pencil moustache, digesting the information he had received. He turned on his heels and walked off towards the lake. He began unzipping his horrifyingly dirty work jacket and once he reached the edge, he threw it into the quite lovely body of water. A man fishing stared at him in disgust as the fluids from that infamous bathroom floor mixed with it.
"It's ok, I just had sex, I'm purifying myself!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs while the remnants of someone's mistimed period mixed with the playground of the fish. As the clouds cleared, a hut which sat just behind a section of trees across the lake came into view. The words 'Original Witch Doctor' were written above it. Harry raised his arms up in joy, the BO which had sunk through the seams of his quite frankly repulsive standard white T Shirt escaped into the air, decimating the surrounding environment. He took off like a dart towards the location.

It hadn't taken long but he had reached it; his sanctuary, his answer, his sanity. Harry raised his bony, vaginal juice covered knuckles and crashed them against the wooden door. As quick as a flash the heavy door swung inwards and standing in the opening was a brown lady. She was darker than Harry's light tan. She smiled simply.
"Harry?" She asked. Harry was shocked, his heart beat through his chest, even more so than when he had had sex. All across her face were florescent blue markings, she looked like something from 'Tron'. She noticed the look of shock on his face and beckoned him in. Without a word, that lanky freak walked through the door after her. They walked through the lounge to a lovely cream sofa just on the other side of the heavily wood based aesthetic. She sat on one side and he sat on another.
"I need to-" Harry began before being cut off.
"You've just had sex, you need to purify your soul," she simply noted. Harry nodded and gulped heavily, a slight quantity of mini sick entered his mouth, but he swallowed it back down.
"I am Alanasi, a brown Witch Doctor from South Shields," she noted holding out her hand.
"I am Harry Art, you don't need to know much more," Harry replied sternly refusing to shake her hand. Alanasi was wearing only a pink silk robe, she maintained eye contact as she slipped her right shoulder out to reveal a burn upon the skin. Harry began to sweat once again, his chest showing through the white t shirt.

Harry's hands shook as he moved towards Alanasi. She turned away slightly to tease him.
"You see, without the security of marriage, one finds the devil within themselves when they have sex. I will exorcise you, Harry, I will exorcise you," she said passionately looking deeply into his eyes. Harry became erect and she knew it straight away. He pushed his clammy hand against her other shoulder, and slowly the robe fell down. She smiled and jumped on him pushing him backwards. Her tongue graced Harry's dirty neck from bottom to top, he shivered in delight while she shivered in disgust as her face scrunched up at the bitter taste of his skin. Harry took his soaked T Shirt off revealing his all too familiar skinny frame. Alanasi stood up and allowed Harry to move up on the couch. He looked up just at the right moment; her robe was now completely off and lying in a neat pile beside her. She was stood only in her jet black underwear. Harry's eyes bulged; once you got over the burns, her skin was the smoothest he had ever seen. He unzipped his trousers and threw them violently across the room. She placed her hands up her back slowly and unclipped her bra. She reached over seductively picking up a pot of florescent blue body paint and began drawing a symbol on her stomach. Harry was now completely naked, his white underwear complete with dark brown skid marks was the last to come off. Alanasi moved towards him seductively with the body paint.

"Let's get started," she breathed.

Update: 2014

Hello all,

Due to numerous death threats from some of my readership about the recent lack of activity, I have made a return to my erotica. I'm not entirely sure how so many of you got my work email address, but I must say that sending the content which you have to me over the past months has been out of line. Let it be said that I'm back because I want to be, and not because I fear for my, or my family's safety. There's a big reason why I haven't posted for such a long time. In my last post I noted my recent trouble with Karen and the legal proceedings she put against me. This legal battle has heated up quite immeasurably and only a few weeks ago we settled. We settled that I wouldn't come within fifty feet of her, her property or (as she puts it) her son, Darren. I've felt a great deal of loss over this, this witch has taken away my son, but it's not over, it's not over just yet. We've got rebuttal, and even though Darren wants nothing to do with me, he will still have a loving father in his life. So fuck you Karen! Fuck you straight back to the hell spawn you came from, you Devil-Bitch!

I have also found myself in a position of power at work as of late. With the erotica that I had begun writing I felt an amazing sense of power entwined within myself. Though it was originally written as a heavily politically loaded statement, this erotica appears to have worked wonders in my life. I suddenly gained confidence which I never had before. For instance, people at the water cooler used to scrunch up their cups and throw them at me while I sat at my desk trying to fill out my tax forms during my lunch break. Now, since the erotica, people look on at me with apathy and cease to throw things or show any acts of aggression towards me. To be fair, in a twist of fate I found a way of making our company work 11% more efficiently by dropping six people off of our team. My manager and lead of department picked a few of those people which would throw things at me to be let go. Now they have no livelihood and are left as feral(s) to pick from the dregs off society. I was also promoted due to my attitude change, I now work in a different department where I analyse loans. It's been three months and I feel that I'm more successful here.

Indeed, 2014 has been plagued with legal battles and deep seated rage amongst my son and Karen, but it has thus far been highly successful in the world of work for me. Now that I'm posting again, I guess that means that you can expect some more chapters of Harry Art's journey, and you would be right in believing that. Expect more, the point of this post has been to show you that I'm not going to lie down and take it any more; I aim for a much more violent, aggressive, in your face, and twisted journey to be revealed within Harry Art himself. So be sure to prepare yourself for ache, pain, euphoria, and an over riding sense of nostalgia. Also, if you keep sending me death threats I will be forced to take legal action.

All the best,

Peter