27.12.2006
Twentyseven
XXVlI
http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/DestinyDesperation.mp3
Jon Jonsson hurries eating the buttered bread with smoked meat and salami, finding it quite delicious with the hot chocolate, which is never on the table but on big holidays. Every other day this drink´s just called cocoa,
but so what Jon is thinking when he pushes his chair out from the linoleum-covered kitchen-table. He hasn´t any time to bother about this sudden change in his mother´s household. He´d only decided to join his mum at the coffee-table, because she´d told him that she´d made the table-corner especially elegant, for she wanted to discuss something very vital to his future.
Nevertheless she hadn´t said anything important yet, other than ger'so'vel (be my guest), when she handed him what ever he needed each time.
-What was the important subject you had to inform me about, mamma. Please be quick about it, Jon says showing no more interest in other people´s
affairs, than he ever did. What was more important than his own future- planning, but when he looks into his mother´s eyes he´s only able to see deep sorrow.
Large tears are running down her beautifully shaped nose from her a little squint-eyed eyelids.
He realises that in reality his mum´s a little
beauty-queen, who´s obviously been in a horrid marriage with a real thug called Jon Jonsson senior, who´d treated her just like she were just a rag
or a bondwoman. But the son had never speculated anything about it; she just being his mum and of course his father´s words are laws in their home.
When he was younger and before he´d encountered with the Beings he and his mamma had often had intermittent talks.
She´d told him that before she´d met his pabbi (dad) in the Cross in Njardvik, which had been the most popular meeting-place for the young people in those days, she´d made plans of going to the medical school at the university in the succession of
finishing the Menntaskoli in Reykjavik (junior-college), where she was on
her third year of four. Weekdays she was living with her cousin in
Reykjavik, but came south to Keflavik (50 km.) with the bus every weekend and holidays. Sometimes she went along with her friends supposedly dancing in the Cross, where she might meet her future lover the girls used to giggle about.
In those days it wasn´t believed to be OK if an eighteen year old girl was seen with an older man.
The Cross, as it was called was a large barrack with corrugated iron, which the US Red Cross had built intended for the recreation of the garrison on
Keflavik Airport during WW ll around 1942. The barrack was located on a site in the village of Njarðvík, which lies close to the town of Keflavik
and where there were living a few big land-owners. The Americans named the barrack Red Cross Recreation Hall.
Not any Icelanders were allowed to enjoy the recreation or dances there, except perhabs it´s Icelandic staff and ladies who were invited by the American soldiers.
After the war some administrators of the Ungmennafelag of Njardvik (youth club) and the
Kvenfelag (women´s organisation) wanted to buy the barrack for their own place for entertainment. Magnus Olafsson, Mangi in the Shed, who was quite a wealthy farmer and the owner of a large boat for fishing, volunteered to lend them 30,000 Icelandic kroner for the purchase.
Back then it was more money than most people made in their lifetime.
When the Cross had changed its nationality it became a frequent recreation hall of people from Keflavik, Njardvik and other places.
All kinds of recreations took place there, e.g. children got a chance to walk around a christmas- tree, but most famous were the weekend dances sought by people from all over, if not for dancing, then for watching and listening to popular bands, like the KK-sixtet in the fifties or Hljomar (sounds), the first Icelandic pop-group or the Icelandic version of the Beatles, who became famous performing there in the sixties.
The accordion-evenings were also popular.
-But that was just what happened in my case, my dear Jon, mamma told him looking in his eyes with her tear-swollen eyes, he recalls, just the way she´s doing right now.
-Where we the girls were sitting so very well mannered at tables or on benches by the walls, waiting and hoping that some young man who was looking for a dance partner would notice you and ask for a dance, I noticed this very handsome man, who obviously had noticed me as well.
I became quite excited, where I watched him walking toward me.
I remember, that my friend Sossa who was sitting by my side pinched me asking me quietly between her clenched teeth, whether I was really going to dance with this grown-up who was heading toward me.
-Do you really think I want to sit here as a doll all night, I replied and didn´t mind a bit about the age-difference.
I came there to dance didn´t I?
-Does the miss want to dance? He asked me with this real manly voice like it was coming from underground, and I became real bewitched and followed him out on the tiled dance-floor, where a few pairs were dancing the beat.
We were still together, when the soft-dance came at the end of the evening and couldn´t keep apart from each other from then on.
Eventhough many people tried to separate us, both my girlfriends and parents, who weren´t quite
pleased when I gave birth to you nine months later and I´d quit school. They kept on telling me that I deserved better than a laborer working at the Labor Shop up on the NATO-base.
That´s no place for a young healthy man like Jon is, but it´s rather a resting-place for old men.
-But it doesn´t really bother me, because I don´t believe that becoming a doctor would have given me any more pleasure than you have done, you darling
little boy, she´d told him when he was about ten years of age and then she´d embraced and kissed him. Then Jon did something he hadn´t done since he was a little boy and was telling his mum how much he loved her and telling her how they should kick
dad outside one of the many times when he´d been mean to his mother calling her names and beating her and getting drunker every year, and Jon would end his promises with: He would marry her and take care of her.
-What´s wrong my dear mamma, he asks putting an arm warmly around her and drying her eyelids.
-Your dad´s left us, she tells him sensitively.
-Where did he go, he asks running his eyes around the kitchen, but isn´t able to see his father anywhere, in spite of his custom of sitting in one corner with his newspaper this time every Saturday.
-I really don´t know where, my dear Jon, his mother sobs, but he told me he´d found a younger woman who is more compliant in bed, not being as
frigid as I´m supposed to be, he tells her son before she loses all control of herself. What have I done to deserve this, she moans. Jon finds awkward the situation and allotment his mother has bestowed upon him, but really is angry with his father for this creation.
She´s sobbing horribly on his shoulder and he can´t tolerate it. To comfort others isn´t really his strongest side.
Jon has never been in such an unbearable
situation before, but he knows he has to find some resolution to get rid of his mum, for he has a much more important matter to attend to. He pats her on the back and rubs it the same way he did to the neighbour´s dog, so many years ago that he´s hardly able to recall it.
-So, so, mamma dear he tries his best comforting this heart broken woman who´d given tormented birth to him almost twenty years before.
She´d become a mother even younger than he was now.
He had not even made use of the two chances he´d had to be of use to the weaker sex and thus losing his
virginity. The first time he´d reluctantly attended an outdoor-festival with the son of an uncle.
But in some degree he´d wanted to witness these
so-called outdoor-festivals which seemed to overturn everything related to entertainment and he´d read so much about in the newspapers. "On my seventeenth year I and my father´s cousin, Grimur took the bus to Husafell (house-ridge).
My parents had emphasized strongly, that I went on this trip with my poor relative, who´d recently lost his mother.
Pabbi (dad) even promised to give me a considerable amount of money, along with
the alcohol. Having arrived on the festival it became visible, that Grimur wasn´t the sort of person who bothered spending time on me his dull relative, who was not in the least used to enjoying himself with other people, nor had I ever tried alcohol.
Quite soon I just had the company of myself in our tent after I´d promised Grimur to keep a close watch on it, while he left me supposedly to find us a couple of girls along with our two bottles we´d smuggled in through the gate.
When the sun had gone down and I´d been waiting for my cousin for quite a while I started to get restless waiting in the tent with nothing to do, I
surprised myself being bold enough to stick my head out side of the tent. This first Friday-evening in August was especially still and beautiful.
I decided to step outside to explore a bit what it really was that made this weekend (the tradesmen´s) so spectacular.
I had just left our yellow two-men tent, when four quite pissed earthly femine beings came right to me, where I was innocently standing giving the dark mountain-fingers who stood so high into the starry silk-sky an eye.
I didn´t remember having before seen such a sight as those freely girls who were coming toward me and my little friend was feeling somewhat not so
freely in the pants and had begun to puff out in my checkered panties. -Where have you been until now beautiful prince of my dreams, giggled the one whom I believed to be leading this group of high spirited girls.
They encircled me thus holding me still.
-Have a drink you pretty boy, said the shortest and stoutest one thrusting a cokebottle to my lips and before long she had gagged the neck in between
the lips of an innocent teenager, who never had drunk anything stronger, than egils-pilsner (light-ale). I shook myself and made a wry face when the strongly blended liquid coursed freely down my throat.
While I was pulling myself together again
unconspicously I could hear the girls whisper and giggle, where they were standing by my side. The leading girl who´s name was Frida (pretty) came towards me taking a hold of my neck and with her angel´s face close to mine she told me shamelessly what they´d been giggling about.
-We are going to fuck you, you pretty boy! Do you mind? She smacked her moistured lips on my dry and inexperienced ones. I could feel how her
tongue gagged itself between my teeth searching for mine. I felt the stinking smell of alcohol from her and I felt nausea tasting her to begin with, but before long I started to enjoy what this pretty girl was doing to me and I felt delightful creeps when she began fondling my sexual organs, which to my disappointment had returned to their usual size. We´ll make it big again, she said reassuringly, where´s your tent, she moaned between tight lips.
-There I told her trying to point in an awkward posture, but it´s only made for two people.
-It will do the girls told me simultaneously and then they dragged me along.
Soon when we were lying stripped naked in one bundle they were over me with one attention.
They licked and rubbed me allover with great eagerness using all their sex appeal aiming to get it up, but all in vain, for He only became a little smaller.
-What a lousy stud you are, Frida giggled with a giggling response from her friends.
I just closed my eyes and blushed allover and congratulated myself on the darkness, which made it impossible to see how bashful I had become.
-This has never happened to me before I tried to defend myself trying to look OK, when I could hear and sense, that my guests had put on their clothes and were leaving the tent.
It wasn´t until Monday-morning, when Grimur had returned after his weekend´s adventures, that I had guts to go outside and then only to take
down my last days and nights´ resting place. -Wasn´t your week-end just out of this world like mine was, my cousin asked joyfully at the same time he put down the tent-pegs into a brown linen bag.
-Yes, really great, I acceded with pretended happiness while I looked miserably around certain that everybody would be looking at me.
Sitting in the bus on the road home Grimur kept on bracking about how many girls he´d layed over the lengthy weekend, making me almost insane compelled to listen and wishing I could disappear all together.
-Won´t you come along to the Westman-Islands next year, Jon, my cousin asked when we came back to Keflavik. They tell me that the local girls are
really something else."
-Is it actually so bad to be rid of this boring decrepit man, he tries his best laughing encouragingly to his mum. The son´s meagre gestures are rather for the worse, when she hears what he has to say.
When the sob´s gotten worse and her tears have gone through his shirt and wetted his shoulder he decides to carry her into her bed, where she´ll be able to cry her heart out and drown her sorrows.
But when he picks her up and tries to carry to her bedroom, he discovers how weak he´s become, so weak actually that he doesn´t see how he´ll be able to carry her this short distance.
Jon Jonsson who hasn´t really moved or exerted himself for a number of years, excluding his heathertrips on Thursdays, discovers that he´s about to fall...
When he has at last managed to put his broken-hearted mother under her bed-sheets and she´s fallen asleep, he somehow automatically recalls the reason he took part in a festival in the Westman-Islands, when he´d recently become eighteen years of age.
He´d quite a negative attitude towards girls
after his disaster in Husafell and had decided never to go to such festivals of sex-orgies again. But as time went by and the memory of his own poor performance became weaker the feeling of pure revengefulness towards girls as a species took over his mind because of the four girls that had
humiliated him. He was going to show all girls what he really was capable of.
One Thursday-evening in the ruins by Big Lake he carefully tried to open some discussion about sex-life, but because physical contact had become quite alien to the Beings; breeding isn´t necessary for them , because they´ve acchieved immortality, except in special exceptions to the rule, when a new Being gets created through a scheme they controlled with their
minds, he discovered that they knew nothing about human sexlife. But luckily their eldest remembered having faced a similar problem a very long time ago, when it was a young, inexperienced mail species.
It had solved the problem with an altered attitude and relaxation, which it found very important.
Jon was quite disappointed when he came back home that evening having realised that there wasn´t any magical solution to his problem.
Later when he was lieing under his bedsheets he started experiensing with his penis; wanted to find the best method to control the erection.
With his eyes closed he concentrated his mind on this remarkable organ; tensioning and relaxing, but all in vain.
His penis wouldn´t go up. Then he got the idea to fetch some manly magazines in Jon senior´s bedroom- table.
And to his great relief a little tension started in his little one, when Jon began turning with half a mind, but soon with growing interest and anticipation pages with photos of stripped naked and sexy women.
He´d never known how the naked breasts in all sizes, the triangle between the thighs or the convexed back-side could make his penis so stiff, that he feared it would explode.
His breathing became faster when Jon put a hand
around his swollen dick and began running it up and down, faster and faster until there was an explosion. He liked it how this white viscid liquid came out of his urinary organ and splashed both on his sheet and down his thin thigh.
Jon really wished he knew more about his penis and the magic that lay behind this peculiar enlargening.
He soon discovered the secret.
By much irritation the hormones awake, send a message to the brain, which opens the flood-gates for the blood which then streams into the penis, which
swells and enlargens, thus making it ready to penetrate into the woman´s vagina, he read in a book about the body of men and women he´d found in his
father´s night-table. -If I´d be able to control the bloodflow I could do
real harm to women, ran through his vengeful mind. Everything went according to his will, except for one disturbance he hadn´t taken into account.
"When I arrive to the festival in the Westman-Islands (Thjodhatidin i Eyjum) along with my cousin Grimur I intend to do something rememberable, because I do not want to be his inferior womanizing. This time my parents aren´t as eager to send me with Grimur who they believe to have overcome his mother´s death.
After some struggle and nagging and begging I´m able to get a little money for my travelling, so small that I just have enough to pay for
the ferry (Herjolfur) and my admission-fee. Because I don´t have any alcohol, don´t reckon I need it to reach my goal, I do my cousin a favor and
hide two bottles of aqua-vitae, because Grimur is really going to have fun this weekend by becoming very drunk and jolly. Just as before in Husafell he disappears from our tent on Friday-night and therefore I know I´ll have the tent for myself and my conduct without
disturbance. The weather is quite boring, rain and gusty wind just like nowhere else but on this southest part of Iceland, but I don´t mind it at all.
I´m going to follow my plan utterly.
As expected my mum had put my old yankee-capote on the bottom of my old sportbag, which had gathered dust inside a closet since my school-days.
In spite of nagging refusal from me who remembered that I didn´t use the capote last year in Husafell, she had the last word.
-It isn´t so large that it couldn´t be folded right here, she decided and put it carefully folded on the bottom.
I send my mum warm thoughts when I notice a whole lot of teenagers who remind me of drowned rats in their thin and blowy cloaks.
Standing on the dance-floor in a hollow down under a mountain slope, my eyes wander around.
The water-soaked audience dawdle standing either in the hollow beside me or in the slope behind me and we´re all following singer/guitarist Labbi in the Mooners a popular band from Selfoss, singing
a Beatles´ song from under the tent that is over the stage. I notice a pretty lass behind me where she´s staring yearning at my capote, herself being so terribly cold in the fatigue.
In my opinion she´s an excellent victim for my experiment and therefore I move closer to her and strech out my capote inviting her to take shelter.
She notices my gesture instantly and moves her soaked body close to my dry one.
I´m able to feel her trembling when I close the capote.
Together we watch the band playing one song after another and amongst them was The Mooners´ version of Singing in the Rain.
I sense how the cold-trembling in her disappears subsequently and then she introduces herself as Fjola from Reykjavik.
And where she´s standing infront of me with her tight backside so very close to my most secret part I wrap her even tighter with my capote, until I sense how my penis starts to swell a little.
The girl obviously realising what is going on down there touches and fondles with her fingers the spot in
my jeans, where my swolling penis is trying its best to expose itself. I start to joggle against them fingers of hers which subsequently take softly around my genitals, thus implying something cozy to look forward to.
Then she turns her head with her closed eyes and our lips and mouths get glued together in this real fine french kiss, which becomes ever more passionate.
When the last tones of the last soft song come flowing over the island (Heimaey) the excited lovers start running towards their tents, where a
great night will supposedly be finalised with the one and only finishing stroke. I assist the girl undressing in the very tight facilities of cousin Grimur´s two-men tent.
I have already turned quite excited, where
I´m on my knees between her legs pulling her soaking wet jeans down her beautifully shaped long legs and then her panties. In the gloomy light of the travelling-lamp, which I´d remembered to take along I notice the perfect
black triangle such as those I´d seen so often in my father´s Penthouse-magazines. It happens to be too much for me seeing it live and
subsequently despite of all my exercises and preparing I lose all control of the body´s bloodflow. To my dismay I sense how my penis starts raging in the shorts.
In a sudden rush my veins empty themselves into my hyperactive member thus bursting my zipper.
The veins of this giant cock, which is exposing itself are close to bursting.
The girl screams in her fright, pushes herself from under me and naked below the waist she runs outside into the rainy night.
Behind I sit alone in the tent biting my nails because of this fatal timing of the flesh´s erection.
I had not planned to start the super-erection before I´d come inside her little pussy.
Blinded by my naivity and vengfulness I had intended to have some kind of revenge because
of the girls in Husafell last year by harming as many girls I possibly could in this disgusting way. My life was unbearable the rest of the week-end, because of the merciless teasing I received from the boys at the festival and the unpleasing look from the other sex.
I won´t ever return to those islands."