AZOTUSLAND

Currently at 90,000 words, 215 typewritten pages, and almost done.

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Location: San Francisco, California, United States

Artist, writer, visionary and head of Azotus Consulting and Marintowns.com

Saturday, November 19, 2005

AZOTUSLAND Chapter Sixty-Three

It was a bright and good day at Azotus. Long after the movie was over and the tables had been folded up Jim felt happy and he went and fetched Matisse at 6:30 and took her down to Silo 3.

"What is this place Papi?" she asked her eyes large as plums.

"Well Pumpkin, this is Daddy's new home and I wanted you to see it. Are you hungry?"

"Yes!!" she said then went over to the wall and looked at the fish.

"Are there crabs?" she asked?"

"Yes, and a small lobster down in the tank at the end."

She skipped over the dark tiles and he saw her looking up at the tanks and how happy she was. It steeled something in him.

"Come over here now and we'll have some Chinese," Jim said. There was a small table on the South side of the room and Jim grabbed her hand and lifted her over the trough in the floor.

"Can I feed the fishies!?"

"Yes, of course."

"I wish my room was like this." she said happy.

"Well, I have been thinking about that and what would you think if we took that part of the room over there and made it into a bedroom for you when you visit."

"Would I have fish tanks in my room?"

"Yes, the one with the Blue Hippo Tang and the crab and the lobster. We would make it very beautiful," he said sincerely.

"Oh yes!"

"And did you bring me some art?" he asked spooning up some sweet and sour chicken onto her plate, then his.

"Yes Papi! Of course!"

She had done almost a book's worth of drawing and colorations of Spongebob and other characters. They were quite good.

"Now I know what we need!"

"What?"

"Weeeeeeel, it's obvious we need a sponge, a starfish, and a squid to go along with the crab!"

Matisse's face crinkled up and she grinned large.

"Then I want you to paint all the creatures in these tanks when you feel ready and want to, okay?"

"Okay."

************

Around 11 p.m. that night Jim was asleep down on the air mattress. Matisse had left very excited with Sabine around 8:30. Jim lay there thinking about what Candice's next move might be and her ominous note. Still he felt happy that the joy of Azotus had returned. Then he drifted off.

Upstairs Maugham was in the Upper Cafe coming up behind Martine in suggestive ways and helping her close up. His appetite grew for her as they got closer. This surprised him a little.

He went in the back and she was washing dishes in the sink and perspiring. He came up from behind and kissed her neck and bit her ear lightly. Then he moved into her and rubbed and folded his arms around her mid section as she washed. Then he turned her and kissed her warm and wet.

"Don't dawdle," he said smiling and he left and went into Ops, stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed.

Martine came in 13 minutes later and he felt a bit delerious. She stripped down and showered off then climbed naked into bed next to him. . She really was so beautiful in a way easily missed by many men. Maugham shifted her under him and he started to touch her in sweet places but not sexual ones. He put some scented massage oil on his hand, and caressed her back from underneath, and the outside of her legs and all down to her feet. He drew up and slowly, subtly suggested he might do more. But he didn't at first. Her breathing increased as he did.

He kissed her lightly and invited her to lightly tongue him. Then he took her hand and led it down onto him and just whispered "slow baby."

When he finally minutes later touched her breasts she moaned and he then dipped down inside her and she was so ready. Such a small but explosive center of pleasure. He slowly touched, then stopped and kissed her and did so for the next 30 minutes, letting her build like a storm...wave after wave until she cried out and shuddered long and hard down her body and they both fell asleep.

But before he did he thought about the question and decided he finally knew the answer.

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