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The Coma Pt. 01

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Ron slipped on a banana peel.

It really was as stupid as that.

The rotting fruit peel blended in just enough with the grimy New York sidewalk that his distracted eyes passed over it completely. The dropping sensation hit his stomach as his foot flew forward and his head flew backwards. He heard a sickening crack.

—–

Ron woke up in his apartment. Or was it? Something was… undefinably different. Before our adventure continues, it would be worth getting to know our protagonist. Ron Jordan is a youngish man, short but powerfully built. Larger shoulders define a strong frame; not toned but strong. He has sharp green eyes, full lips, and straight black hair which he wears long, down to his collarbones. Now, as with most mornings, it is tied back in a low-profile ponytail. But back to our story.

Shaking his head, which felt sore beyond the usual coffee headache, Ron slipped into jeans and t-shirt and dragged himself through his daily rituals. Coffee. Eggos. Getting angry at the internet. As a freelance writer that was partially his job description, though. And he was good at it.

The first truly “off” thing Ron noticed was when he went to slip his wallet into his pocket. He always kept sixty cash in there for emergencies. But there was an odd weight to it that hadn’t been there before. “What the-” He dug his hand into the wallet, pulling istanbul travesti out a trio of strange metal discs. His eyes widened. He had never seen anything like these before. All three coins, for oversized coins they were, carried the same image on the back side: a fairly detailed image of what could only be a profile view of a pair of lips engulfing an engorged penis. He whirled around, looking for the prankster, or hidden camera. But no, he was alone.

The back of each coin had originally been blank, but each had been inscribed. The first coin said “Katerina Scaglia” in an elegant, cursive script. The next said “Charity Baldwin” in a cute font with a few flowers etched beside it. The last one said in funky, futuristic letters “Sarah Reynolds.”

Ron started at the coins. Their purpose was fairly obvious, but for the life of him he had no idea where they’d come from. Had Paul played another prank, running to some sort of sleazy massage parlor or club to bring him back blowjob tokens? But Paul probably would have showed up by now to laugh at him.

Ron shrugged, and threw on his pack. He usually worked in a coffee shop two blocks away. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk he had to reach out a hand to steady himself. Something was definitely very different. The cars and crowded NYC streets were the same. The noise and smell were basically the same. travesti istanbul It was the people. Something about the people was different.

Everyone was… cleaner. Better presented. He had to admit: sexier. Men tended to be either clean-shaven as Bon villains or to wear perfectly rugged shadows of facial hair. Women’s hair tended to be longer, generally worn loose and flowing behind them and over their shoulders in that perfect silken mass.

Is there some sort of holiday?

As he walked down the steps of his apartment there was a quick shriek of a door swinging open. He heard his neighbor call his name: “Oh hey Ron! Can I ask you a favor?”

Ron knew the voice well. Sarah Reynolds had been his neighbor for a year and a half. She was an artsy, outgoing woman. Tall, with a shapely muscular form and blonde hair that she kept bobbed around her chin. Or at least, she had. Ron gaped.

Sarah has always kept her thick I’m sorry sir. Do you need a refill for that?”

The woman merely joined the rest of the patrons in looking at him with vague concern.

Ron’s brain was mush, but she shook his head and said “No worries, my fault. I’ll get it.” He mechanically started edging towards the napkins but kept his gaze fixed on the couple.

The clerk shrugged and returned his attention to the woman. She, for her part, had leaned forward to lightly istanbul travestileri hold just the head of the clerk’s penis in her mouth, while simultaneously holding his gaze with lustful eyes. The thick curtain of her hair framed her face and lips as she rocked gently back and forth, lips just beginning to explore past the head.

Ron stared, slack jawed. And yet, none of the other people in the restaurant even looked up. One of the men in the restaurant stood up to leave, throwing out his coffee cup. He went to make a comment to the clerk but, seeing the woman currently devouring the man’s cock, merely shrugged and walked out the door.

Ron was transfixed. They were into it now. The woman moaned softly past the large organ filling her mouth, still locking eyes onto the clerk. He moaned himself, eventually reaching down to grab a great handful of the silky hair and push, controlling her pace. She gave a lusty “mmmph” and increased her pace, finally lowering her gaze to focus on his erection. She left both hands at her sides. The silky curtain of her hair closed down on both sides, so that little protruded from the dark, shiny locks except his cock and the tip of her nose. Their moans reached a fever pitch, and Ron watched in amazement as she stayed firmly latched on to the spasming penis, swallowing gamely throughout his orgasm.

When it was over, she unhurriedly stood up, tucking her hair behind her ears again. The clerk smiled and showed her the tab.

“Well that’s cleared. And you have a third of credit.”

She smiled at him. “You’re sweet, thank you.”

“No, thank *you*!”

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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