Super-unnatural: Epilogue
When she came to, she found her face and body pressed up hard against the wall, as if someone had tried to push her through it. Her bum and pussy seemed fine at first, but when she moved, she groaned from the deep aching she felt in her nether regions. It felt like the area between her legs, from her anus to the top of her slit had been unbearably stretched, and thick poles shoved into both her vagina and rectum, at the same time.
As she became more aware of herself and her surroundings, she felt some wetness dripping off her face. She reached up and touched the wet streaks on her cheeks, and wondered if her tears were a result of the intensity of her last orgasm... or from sadness. The left side of her face and her boobs felt a little abraded, her hardened nipples raw and still a little sensitive. She gasped as she pushed herself off the wall, her nipples scraping deliciously against the rough surface.
Of the djinn, there was no sign. Hazel groaned again as she unfurled her limbs and tried to pick herself up off the floor. As she got onto one knee and prepared to boost herself up to stand, she felt thick, gooey stuff sliding out of both her lower orifices. She looked down just in time to see the black clotted fluid trails begin to smoke and disappear from her wet, white thighs. He's gone, she thought. And that was when she knew she had cried out of the sadness of loss.
She had spent the rest of the day in her room -- the session with the djinn had apparently taken the entire night -- in a state of depression. She hadn't bothered to clean up or cover up, and for a time stood completely naked at the window, looking out at the blue sky and wondering if she would ever see him again. It didn't bother her in the least that there was a group of men down below looking up at her, some of whose salacious comments about her boobs and her naked cunt she heard. They didn't matter. No one did. Out of all the men in her life, the only one who could show her how glorious sex was, wasn't even a man. Shit. Her life was shit.
She cried herself to sleep that night, and wondered if she would see him in her dreams, then she cried again in the morning when she woke up and realised that she had not. At some point, she felt hungry enough to dress (in only the same large tee and nothing else) and walk to the nearby cafe for a coffee and a quick bite. Some of the people sitting around her were staring at her... maybe they had seen her at the window the day before. Or maybe they had noticed she was completely naked under her tee shirt. Or perhaps she just looked weird. She didn't care, and she didn't return their stares.
As the sun began to set, she made her way back to her flat. She would have to go back to work the next day. Go back to her dull, colourless, boring life. Go back to a life without the exhilaration, the sheer, unadulterated excitement of the events that had transpired in the past week. Go back to life without the mindblowing sex. God. How in the world had she managed to pass the thirty years of her life before the djinn had made his entrance?
The next week crawled by so slowly a sloth would have passed it by. Hazel spent her time searching the Internet, for information and pictures on djinns. None of her research revealed much more than what she already knew, and she went back home each night exhausted and hopeful of having one more dream, just one more, of the djinn, fucking her. She would tell him how she felt in her dream, and he would know, because he was djinn, and djinn understood feelings. But no matter how much she tried to focus on the picture she had of the djinn in her head, she wasn't able to conjure him up in her dreams. It was hopeless, an exercise in futility that left her more unhappy with each passing day.
As the weekend arrived, she made up her mind to go back to the tree to see if she could find him there, but before she reached it, she knew she wouldn't -- there was a group of people playing cards under the shade of its sprawling branches. It was the same tree, but now it had become 'noticed', and it didn't quite look the same as it had when she saw it last. Hazel walked back to her apartment, holding back her tears. He was gone. He was truly gone from her life.
And it was her fault. She had asked him to go, all because... because of the rules that she lived by. Because she was afraid of others getting hurt. She bawled loudly at her empty room, as she lay naked and spread-eagled on her rumpled bed, hoping he would suddenly appear, yet knowing it was not likely he would. He kept his word, just like she knew he would. She had urged him to fuck her in her ass so that they would be free of each other, and only regretted her decision the moment she realised that she might not ever see the djinn again. What was he doing now? Was he pleasuring someone else? Hazel felt more than a little jealous at the thought, but there was nothing she could do about that too. Unlike her, the djinn was true to his nature.
Fuck. She would never be fucked like that again. She cried herself to sleep once more.
The following day, she looked out the window once more. She was still unclothed, and uncaring that some men had stationed themselves across the street and were staring at her naked body. Some of them were whistling and trying to get her attention, but she ignored them completely. She was looking at the sky, but for once, she wasn't looking for the djinn. Something had happened last night, not in her dreams, but in her heart. Hazel woke up determined to break out of her depression, and decided that she would have to find some way to carry on. There were still other men. Maybe one of them would turn out to be as competent as the djinn in satisfying her.
He's not coming back, she thought to herself as she felt the light breeze caressing her body, making her nipples hard. She felt a drop of lubricant drip onto her inner thigh and sighed. But I can't keep waiting for someone who doesn't want to be found.
Her boss and colleagues noticed the difference in her attitude when she went to work the next day. She had gone shopping and swept into the office in her new dress, sans underwear. She thought the latter unnecessary in her new state of mind. Some of them tried to flirt with her, others asked her out. Even her boss was a little hesitant talking to her. It was as if they were... afraid of her. Afraid of the way she embraced her nature. Some of the women in the office were heard to make bitchy remarks about her sleeping around -- she grinned at the thought that had that happened while the djinn was still with her, they would have found out just whom she was fucking with -- but there were a few who admired her and included her in their outings.
Four weeks after the djinn had disappeared after sodomising her, Hazel realised that her circle of friends had expanded greatly. All of her new friends were surprised at her wit and humour, and some expressly told her so. She laughed gaily when they admitted they had thought she was "a bit of a mouse" and "a flake", but she never told anyone how it was she managed such a change in her own personality.
Two months later, she bumped into Kevin and Trudy. They were quarreling very loudly in the supermarket she was shopping at, and she heard snippets of their conversation... enough to know that Trudy was complaining about Kevin's lack of ambition and he was just bitching about how sloppy she was. She tried to walk past without drawing their attention, but realised they had noticed her when they suddenly fell silent. Then she heard a low whistle and a slap, and giggled to herself. She knew he had been looking at her ass and had reacted to the bouncing curves under her flowing skirt... and that Trudy had been most unhappy with him for that. For a moment, she thought to stop near one of the blowers on the floor and let her skirt billow up so they could see she was naked underneath it, but she thought the better of it. They had had their comeuppance, after all, and she had better things to do than to rub their noses in it.
She saw a picture of the old man a month later, in the newspapers. He had been arrested for attempting to rape a young woman under the pretext of treating some ailment. Apparently, he had not been completely successful in stupefying the woman with his chanting, and worse... he was literally caught with his pants down when the woman's boyfriend had become suspicious and burst in on them just as he was about to mount the protesting woman. The boyfriend had beaten the old man to within an inch of his life before reporting him to the police. Then, other victims of the bomoh began to show up and report that he had similarly assaulted them. "Serial molester and rapist", was how the papers described him, and she chuckled at the thought that he would probably find out what it was like being on the other end of rape, when he got to prison.
Ted, she never saw again. Six months down the road, she bumped into a mutual friend, who had expressed surprise at his sudden disappearance... and then promptly suggested going out. She could see in his eyes just what he wanted... his gaze kept sweeping down to her breasts, now much larger than they had been, and below. He knew she wasn't wearing underwear too, because that was the kind of thing that guys like him noticed. It was his nature, you see. As they spoke, he kept licking his lips like a wolf surveying its prey, and kept moving closer and closer to her. He was trying hard to brush up against her, believing that this would somehow make want to bed him.
She almost laughed out loud when he finally asked: "Don't you miss it? Sex, I mean?"
"With Ted? Not at all," she smiled. "He was the most selfish lover I've ever had."
"So... you've had others?" the light of lust glowed ever stronger in his eyes as he moved close enough to brush against her nipples.
"Well, I'm divorced now, aren't I? I don't see why I should abstain," she said gaily, noting the bulge in the front of his pants. He was arching his back slightly, trying his best to push his erection up against her pubis.
"So, what do you say... I mean, you're lonely, and I can..."
