Lush land, loud with growls, moans, tittering, screaming, slithering, barking, buzzing, rustling, snarling, warbling, neighing…
Soft sounds of growing, dying, breathing, dissolving, materializing, joining, evaporating, hissing, pissing, lusting, listening…
Colored a mashup of many shades of green, splashes of blossoms of blood, sunrise, lightning, unbearable blue, pitch purple-black, patterns bold and discreet, laughing yellows, taunting teals, daunting grays, stunning blacks…
Adam, black to the bone, kinky-headed, peach juice dripping lips to chin to chest rolls down to pubic thicket drips from manhood… Attracts flying sweet seekers.
Chances on Eve face deep in the clear pool, gossiping with a blabbing black bass and a couple of chatty catfish, her ass up in the air, the most succulent fruit in the garden hidden in a hairy thicket beckons, begs, for a thirsty mouth, a greedy dick, demands satisfaction, muscular action.
Immediate magnetic attraction his lips to her pussy lips joined in suction and consummation, probing tongue, nibbling teeth.
She shakes her ass in a flurry of delights and a rapid wet response reaction. Lubrication paves the way for a massive incursion.
He slides his sweetness into her hungry tender smoking red abode.
Eve explodes out of the water with a shriek, a savage sound of sexual salvation.
They cum like double trailer trucks colliding head first at 100 miles per an hour.
Sated, sleeping, holding hands, sharing dreams and instant replays.
Ready for the same thing in a different way every day, forever.
Adam off to pick, pull, pluck up some morning grub.
Eve bathing in the clear pool.
Slick, Armani clad, shade-wearing, Stacy Adams shod Serpent tiptoes onto the scene with a gangsta Lean.
“Serpent, where did you get them fancy rags, those shades, and those out of sight kicks?”
“In the Real World, Eve, where shit is happening. In the Real World, they got dope and Coke and hope, hot dogs and Sonny Rollins and Sonny Stitt and Ray Charles and— ”
“They got Barry White?”
“You know they do. And Ruthie Foster and Betty Lavette and chocolate chip ice cream— ”
“Awe, you shitting in my shoe. You making all that up, ain’t you?”
“No way, baby. I can get Mavis Staples to take us there in a New York Minute.
“I’m ready, let me holla up on Adam.”
“Slow your roll, baby. I ain’t taking no lames with me. You can come back and get him later if you still want that simple backwoods boy with you.”
“I can’t leave Adam alone. My pussy would go on strike behind that shit.”
“Alright, alright I’ll make an exception if you let me tap a little bit of that good stuff. I promise not to wear it out or eat it up.”
“So, that’s what you after. You should have just come right on out and ask for it. Shouldn’t have tried to play me and lay me like I was a little lamb or your rusty hand.”
“My bad. So, I messed up. Let me do it right. Give me some of that good stuff before I get rough.”
“Fool, you out of your ever-loving mind. You have never been and never will be my kind. You need to roll your slick ass on down the line.”
“You can give it up gladly, or I can take it badly.”
“Fool! You know the Garden Rules.”
“Fuck the rules! I know what I want, and you better not call out for Adam.”
“Serpent, I don’t need no Adam to deal with the likes of you.”
Eve beat the serpent to the punch a bunch of times. She hit harder and fought smarter. Ripped his clothes to shreds and beat him with his shoe.
Serpent sued for peace, begged for mercy and promised her a Chicago style, deep dish, meat lover’s pizza pie peace offering.
“Eve, what all these ripped up rags? And why you got a bloody nose? And what’s in the box that smells like baked pussy delight?”
“Adam, my sweet hard rocking Daddy this is a Chicago deep dish pizza pie.”
“What is pizza and where is Chicago?”
“A meat lover’s special just delivered piping-hot.”
“Meat! You know we can’t eat meat. Have you forgotten the Garden Rules?”
“Rules for children and fools. If you live by the rules, you never get to taste the good stuff.”
“Eve, you are the good stuff.”
Eve opens the box, breathes in the aroma, admires the colors, snatches up a slice.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! It’s so good. It’s so good I’m cumming on myself good. Feel me, Adam. Feel between my legs. See how wet I am.”
“Eve, no! No!”
“Cum with me daddy, come with me to see Buddy Guy and— ”
“Eve, you wet as rain. This is insane. Who’s Buddy Guy?”
Eve pulls Adam to her and kisses him tightly pushing pizza into his mouth lightly.
Greasy lipped Adam chews, swallows, shoots his load. Grabs a slice moans and groans in wet ecstasy.
“I want to go. I want to go home, home to sweet home Chicago.” They sing it together.
A battered and bruised Serpent limps out of the shrubbery. “Losers, chumps you been played. I got you good. Eviction notice is on the way. This is one place you can’t stay. Your life will be full of toil and strife.”
The Voice speaks, “Out! Out of Eden, you go! And don’t litter. Take that pizza box with you. Serpent, no more pizza for you forever. You will lose your legs and arms and crawl about on your belly and be despised. Adam will break your back and bust your balls.”
“I ain’t mad at you Eve. I love the blues, the beer and the pizza here. I just ain’t up for no slave labor stuff. And everything cost. What’s up with that?”
Eve wonders, “Why am I so weak here in Chicago? I’m only half as strong as I used to be. Is it the meat, the booze or the beer that has cut me down?”
Adam turns to the Serpent. “You alright with me as long as you don’t start no mess.”
The Serpent promises to be straight, to stay cool, all the time wondering how to slide up under Eve’s dress.
The Voice says. “Welcome to the real world and good riddance.”
But, the three ain’t hardly listening. Adam’s checking out the waitress’s bountiful, bouncing boobs as Eve exchanges wanton looks with the bald, black bartender. Serpent makes his move just a little too soon and Adam crushes his tail with his hobnail boot. And they all feel right at home.
Banner Image: Eve tempted by the serpent. William Blake [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons