Stuck at home watching Pam and Felicity solve another extraordinary overrated crime, Pandora made another cup of tea before being anally probed by her none too girted husband in the bedroom where she had slept alone for far too many years. Her anal fixation came and went like her memories. It was not complete, or she could not admit to the others her first time somewhere with Dave Devil when she taught country school kids… Pandora was Nathan’s Auntie…
The children loved Pandora especially the aboriginal children who she insisted she call indigenous in the presence of the other aboriginals and others in the politically correct neighbourhood and world she inhabited as she became conservative. A sub-Pandora, a dull sub-Pandora.
“Miss Pandora, we’ve been misbehaving, can we dance again?,” asked the children as their Dreamtime theme of a once proud mob was about to be destroyed again, if it wasn’t already. The dreams of Auntie Pandora, of a fair deal for them in the outback classroom would begin with bunny hops of emus and wallabies all with hand motions… Just like a campfire smoking ceremony but this time at school with Auntie Pandora leading the parade. Such were the dreams of children as Auntie Pandora’s dreams ended in bitterness and petty lemonwood… and a black girl on Red Planet.
Popular in her latter day neighbourhood for clogging the arteries of her husband as well as dancing with plastic shoes, she danced the days and nights away… nutty Auntie Pandora.
Why did this happen to this would be Earth child, she thought. She with once long flowing hair and a guitar, a wooden spinning wheel and her eye on the antiques of her parents, or Nathan’s grandparents, which her sister Ma Joad had always seen but would never enjoy. One piece Ma Joad kept and Auntie Pandora coveted it like the house where Ma Joad lived.
Nathan loved Pandora as he grew up. He really didn’t know the essence of a Pandora let alone a sub Pandora. She even had a photograph of him snapped in the bath at four years old which Nathan felt embarrassed about due to the state of his genitals. Pandora would not kiss him, she would give him a consoling hug every now and then but it was obvious the family was essentially cold. As for the love of men, if there was any spent in her youth… she was really for the company of women. Such was Pandora, with her bobbed haircut reminiscent of Louise Brooks in that German film Pandora’s Box from the 1920s heyday of the flapper.
Dave Devil was not the first country she had visited in terms of cock. Nathan didn’t know of her anal fixation and perhaps neither did she until she met her second husband. It had been blocked by too much time in young classrooms being petite and not foulmouthed. Pandora does not swear, except on Red Planet where she fucks, cunts, arseholes perhaps… faggots a lot and as for dyke, it’s not in her vocabulary. Pandora hated Nathan as he grew older and lazier and disgraced the family. He had opened Pandora’s Box in terms of the family and all its woes had to be placed on Nathan as if he were the new Pandora’s box, coffin shaped to be shut and then burned and forgotten. All the woes of the world would be gone having emerged and then ended. Leaving only a meagre bank account and a few belongings…
She draped her hair over his cock and shook her head as if the strokes of a brush meant everything in the world. The campfire in the desert was dying and the man thanked her for not spooning for too long.
“Fuck me dead Pandora!”
“So you really want me to?,” she said enigmatically as she danced aimlessly around the campfire like she did at school but more Nefertiti like, not really meaning it; a twist of lemon in the billy of English Breakfast tea also on her lips.
All night they made some kind of love and only the experience remained. Did she let him probe her anally? It was one for the imagination. She hoped it wouldn’t get around town or the mission that such a well-respected figure as Pandora would figure as the latest slut to be bitched about.
Her friend Pam emerged from the bushes that early morning, in shorts now, and the two women were inseparable, perhaps brushing their hair near naked together on Red Planet in front of the dresser her mother and every woman of means could admire themselves within… In a way it had been a menage a trios as two young girls sharing trusted gossip would share a man. It didn’t happen. Nor did their lesbian experience of the two girl’s platonic love for one another which carried on to the present day in a third girl, who was a total lesbian… This Nathan gathered about these three.
Nathan’s book sold four copies and Pandora told him on Red Planet what she really thought of him. He was a monster. He belonged to the monsters, she said. She would’t read his stinking book in a rocking chair fit with ball-bearings between her flaps, to use rude words.
“I wouldn’t read your book. No-one does,” she said.
And as Nathan sat there, in the mild tempest of Moon City, as the wind blew through the air catching the tress, the iron fence rattling, a scattering of leaves through the yard as Pandora’s brain fart spread across the whole town and perhaps even the state. But it was not her nature, she would forever belong to Pam or the other girl. A part of her anyway, which was something Pandora could no longer imagine or put into words.
“Oh, the disgrace of you and that man,” she said on Red Planet as the wind blew between the lines of her speech of hate. A tirade Shakespeare would have been proud of. Oh, why, why Nathan, not an aboriginal!!? Why Gosseemtoo? It was a Jedda-like tragedy…
The book now settled in Nathan’s mind as a flop by another mixed review from a mind who never gave Nathan a chance, and so Nathan felt all the chances had run out as the cancer in his head began to grow bigger. A heart attack was looming for Nathan also as he smoked and smoked too many cigarettes and puffed a little too much on the vape. Three packs listening to Auntie Pandora yap on Red Planet!
Pandora had tried marijuana once or twice and turned up stoned and asleep. Never one to bake a batch of dope cookies, she inhaled once that night around the campfire with Dave Devil. He had supplied the grog and other sundry items but suddenly the party was over as Pandora now knew her true nature and said: “I’m going home.”
This was how she spoke to Nathan after tripping over her own virago which included that his own mother spat or wanted to spit in his face. His mother thought her a bitch but then she had changed he name like she was changing a sex.
And later in Moon City, a glass of wine at the local pub across the road on Red Planet had Nathan wonder if he would be invited to give a guest lecture at the school again… His third in terms of schools and possibly his last. The headaches were beginning and they had begun with Auntie Pandora. Hopefully, they wouldn’t add up to too much. Death seemed to be really nothing.
Sadly, the lessons were now spoilt by his faggot nemeses invading the classroom just to spoil a good lesson and hang out with the misbehaving kids at the back of the class. The teacher in Moon City was the last of the chardonnay socialists, or could relate to the concept. She lamented the failure of the town to integrate and the only indigenous in the classroom was a studious Indian girl…
The teacher was a Pandora herself and intelligent and simpatico to Nathan entering the classroom. The teacher’s pet greeted Nathan at the pub by sucking his cock diplomatically as she enjoyed the smooth flesh and let the knob pop from her lips. Nathan felt welcome to discuss euthanasia and palliative care and tried to discuss foreskin philosophy among them and what he came to learn were the zealots in this field. Anyway, faggots currently sat in the back row of the classroom, and he imagined a perfecto boy queen but really it was a Pham that lay between his legs… Not to go into too much detail but they perhaps had a fling. The boy queen admitted he wanted a perfecto for his first time, as some of the unenlightened zealot Pandora’s held onto this same notion in a world Nathan feared was breeding a Fourth Reich in proportions which were enormous compared to Nathan’s shrivelled appendage. These Pandora’s were often rich and malcontent, conservative, content only with others who were not of her ilk, and destructive of men who she ultimately scorned. Did this mean she lived in a lost twilight world between true lesbianism and the love of cock? Many were just middle class, some were poor and possibly not as ignorant as the rest. Pandoras are financially comfortable above their station.
Auntie Pandora once again was uncomfortable around men especially on the subject of foreskin as she listened in to Nathan on Red Planet in that Moon City classroom. The classroom really couldn’t give a fuck. Her hatred of this stemmed from foreskin alone it would seem and that nutt side of the philosophy among the other things Nathan had apparently done. Like shit in a nappy. Maybe Nathan needed his arse wiped again and sent to hospital or borstal or whatever to be treated with large catheters and pumped full of drugs, perhaps fucked while he was drugged out… and finally killed. Yes she admitted that too.
Meanwhile Gosseemtoo watched from the cloudy sky full of cock formations and native animals as Pandora’s hated wind exchange with Nathan on Red Planet led to the aboriginal to watch Auntie Pandora reminisce and show how she was a good teacher.
“You’re no teacher Nathan,” she complained about Nathan’s so-called complaint as a wanker.
Pandora tried to get into his head just as the need for approval for Nathan’s book, which wasn’t cutting it, in terms of praise and sales, had already been further rubbed in like shit by his father who described it as the worst book he had ever read.
With only a withered cock for that day in the classroom after the pub in Moon City and only an adventure on Red Planet with a black girl and another brown girl on the way there… to think back upon… happy to tell the class…
He had picked them up on the way to Moon City and they fucked and sucked all around the BP after Nathan picked up some cigarettes and some fuel. On the way to Moon City, Nathan almost drove through a roundabout at the Moon City junction as they transported themselves to Los Angeles on Red Planet. There they visited Westwood Cemetery where they went to Natalie Wood’s grave and where the two girls and Nathan stripped and tried to masturbate as they stared at the stones and copper coins on her headstone on that dark but very moonlit night. Then they conjured the spirit of Natalie Wood!
“Natalie… Natalie… Come to us…,” said Nathan as the girls paused, their fingers ready to stroke their pussies as if they were kind of embarrassed or something to start while Nathan stood there with his erection. Her spirit erupted with many stills and moving moments from her movies from her girlhood to her death just like it were some sordid Oscar tribute or beautiful celebration of the woman she really was. Then the spirit of Natalie Wood emerged at forty years old…
“That’s not Robert Wagner’s cock,” said Natalie as she stared at Nathan. The girls had stopped masturbating if they had even started at all. Their pussy hair naturally little triangular shadows. After a short conversation, Natalie more or less just said ‘hello goodbye’ and it turned out boring. The speeches can sometimes be disappointing. No wonder she never won an Oscar.
“Where am I?,” asked Natalie and more or less disappeared after the two girls got her autograph and jumped for joy together like fans sniffing out a simple touch of their favourite movie star.
“Who else is there to visit?,” asked the brown girl and Nathan had already rubbed his glans and coronal ring across the beauty spot on her left eyebrow to wipe what she called a mole away. She thought herself ugly, but Nathan found her brown and pink hole just as he had found the brown and pink hole of the black girl. Yes, it had been a case of knob, chocolate, salmon, golden brown, foreskin and pubic hair before that final thrust – gentle as Nathan tried to be with each of the girls. Nathan couldn’t fuck for shit but mucus and spit would suffice as he left diamonds of ejaculate in their Alladin’s Caves. Just like the boy queens he loved.
“Dorothy Stratten would be a good one,” said Nathan and the three stood naked in the dark at Westwood as Galaxina emerged from the trees and bushes with her purple and gold cellophane stripped Pandora wig in place as a part of her space costume.
“It’s Galaxina!,” said the Scooby Doo gang. “What’s she going to do?”
“Well, I suggest she performs lesbian sex on you both,” said Nathan.
The girls didn’t know what would happen but Galaxina got on her knees in front of the black and brown girls who held hands with their other hand over their vaginas… kind of like a Roxy Music album cover. Well, the girls couldn’t stand it… Perhaps it was because they were on general broadband in terms of Nathan’s powers and everyone was watching. They couldn’t commit to Galaxina and recoiled from her as she was not their choice partner on this occasion.
“Why not Galaxina?,” asked Nathan.
The black girl took Galaxina’s hand to stroke the black hole of her butt but she really wanted Nathan’s cock there again on this adventure. There would be no lesbian sex tonight.
“Marilyn Monroe, she’s here,” said Nathan.
“We know, we’ve been waiting.”
“She’s in a crypt over there.”
“How high?”
“High enough for anal sex… about chest high…”
Soon they stood in front of her crypt, newly cleaned, a red rose just like Joe di Maggio would have left every week in the vase. They stood there and looked at the plaque with Nathan forever erect. The girl with the beauty spot wanted to speak…
“We have to make lurve, definitely. Can we raise her?”
Nathan’s entity entered the crypt and floated over the skeletal remains as he tried to poke it with his hard cock.
“I think she’s too far gone. Totally fucked, poor girl.”
All were downcast for a moment as the brown girl spread her legs and revealed her vagina as Nathan played knob, chocolate, salmon, golden brown, foreskin and pubic hair et cetera…
“How does that feel?”
“I feel it. It’s hard.”
“Can you feel the knob? I’ll cough to make the blood rush to the cock and dilate the glans,” said Nathan and cleared his throat which scared the girls. Nathan softly fucked as the ghost of Marilyn Monroe erupted from the crypt singing: “Happy Birthday… to you…”
“Whose birthday is it?”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“Maybe it’s because we’re all in our birthday suits?,” someone joked weakly.
“Is there a button? How would it be if there was button?”
“Just do it with a 3D or hologram phone and a barcode on the grave I reckon. That’s what they’ll do.”
And they all shrugged.
“Yes,” said the black girl as Nathan ooked into her eyes. “How do you want to do it?”
“Braced standing and facing the plaque so I can read her name,” she said.
The black girl got into position and Nathan parted her cheeks and opened them.
“What colour is it?”
“It’s hard to tell… same colour I think. Same as usual,” said Nathan about her sphincter and entered the black and pink hole into the darkness of her lubricated backdoor vagina. He thrust and thrust gently as the girl used her athletic and petite body to adjust to the right speed and tension… Nathan thought he wasn’t describing it all as if he were writing Pride and Prejudice for a woman like Pandora but it would have to do.
“And now let’s get a hamburger at the Roosevelt in Hollywood, they’re one of the ten best in the country.” … And both girls wiped the burgers from the corner of their mouths as if it were cum itself.
Is there a lesson to be learnt thought Nathan to the kids as he returned back home after teaching at the school the wonders of the sex and death and the importance of travel and knowing history. Especially where to get the best burger in Hollywood. It made for colour on Red Planet. Red Planet could do wonders for education were it harnessed.
Anyway, thought Nathan once the reminiscence of that adventure was complete, he thought of how Auntie Pandora’s now demented Earth child imagined herself and Pam under the waters of Katherine Gorge sharing the true nature of Sapphic love… just as it was meant to be; the human form of a woman who cannot break through to a man completely as her husband’s cock so wanted to do… locks of hair wet as the pussy hair beneath the shimmering waters and where mermaids dreamt of women and the destruction of men.
“If only Dean Devil had fucked me, I mean really fucked me,” she thought, it would have only been one marriage… and it would have been Pam and I, or the other girl … Yes, the black girl too, only thirteen or fourteen when she first knew her and on the verge of womanhood. Her vagina bleeding, the help and love of Red Planet, the times inside and outside of the classroom where Auntie Pandora had loved her and adored her full black cheeks and dark eyes. Yet never to touch the flesh, except for the kiss and an embrace to be treasured as they parted forever. For children of fifteen were not to be touched and Auntie Pandora would tell Nathan, when they went to the movies to see a surf flick, that child services should be called when a fifteen year old is seduced by an older woman. Such was her cross to bear Auntie Pandora. The aboriginal girl became a lesbian thanks to Auntie Pandora’s intervention and yet Auntie Pandora couldn’t really reconcile herself to that lifestyle. Outing one but not herself was her idea of a treat.
“Would you paint a watercolour for Nathan again?,” she asked Pam.
Auntie Pandora and Pam laughed as they thought about the last one, all foreskins and cock, subliminal with animals and with him standing with an overdeveloped forearm outside Bronson Cavern. The joke was on Nathan yet again just as he realised that Auntie Pandora knew the secrets of the bully enough to write a Red Planet story in retaliation to Nathan’s spewing out of the this written tale of her spiteful tirade about Nathan being a faggot or queen or whatever. Red Planet typing which sometimes didn’t turn out to be true. It was just typing. Thus, the Pandora’s Box and the hell it contained within her used against Nathan and her second husband, who sat bemusedly by as she pretended to type her short story in Nathan’s mind to give or sell to a Nazi platform on the internet. Such was Nathan’s healthy paranoia about the character assassination of him globally which was almost now complete. Or was it unhealthy paranoia?
Meanwhile Gosseemtoo sat in the sky bemused once again as the shrivelling old school teacher with old school powers cum lost Earth mother with Pandora hairdo and now an empty nest mansion, pondered her next futile game of tic tac toe on Red Planet with Nathan. She had too much time on her hands to read Nathan’s book and enough to gaslight Nathan. The feeling of anal and vaginal sex lost in a stifled orgasm which was not all consuming. Perhaps she could never really achieve one freely with a man, the constrictions of her body unable to come to terms wit her lemon-hood and the conformity of her outer neighbourhood and ego.
“Is that an emu?,” asked Gosseemtoo while the rest of Moon City laughed at their little spat along with the idea the mob perhaps once remembered they were five and ten year olds who danced with her making hand motions like a bird while also insulting aboriginal culture and intelligence at the same time. Such was the limited intelligence of the sub-Pandora.
A heckler intervened: “No, it’s a Playboy bunny… Go work in Las Vegas or go back to the Playboy mansion!”
“Get Judd to give you a refresher course!,” added another thinking anally or vaginally.
Auntie Pandora was strong and resistant, the Pandora Nathan knew made pasties from scratch from his Nana’s own recipe… Now she lied about not being in Moon City and spat hate on Red Planet from her second abode at the beachside.
The second day ended. Nathan tried to relax with a Red Planet boy queen when he went to bed as Auntie Pandora came again that night, not orgasm-like, but with her family to stab Nathan’s corpse over and over as she hoped it would eclipse her wooden amateur stage performances with another Red Planet rendition of what was Murder on the Orient Express. Once Nathan had died for destroying his family, she could have Nathan’s house for her family. But that’s another story… Pandora. Pandora. Pandora. Lemon. Lemon. Lemon.
And what do you do with lemons? You make lemonade.
“Murder my sweet lemonade tush,” said the black girl somewhere in Westwood Cemetery on Red Planet.
Cult Film Alley 