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By Raziel Moore
Invisible Lines (Novella)

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© 2002 by Alan

Jason's cock was up before him again that morning.  Stiff and urgent, it lay flat on his stomach looking up at him like a pet in need of caressing.  He rose and felt gravity pull it, causing a healthy bounce and sway as he walked across the floor.  Jason grabbed his shaft and felt shockwaves of lust run through him.  He put on an oversized T-shirt, but it only accented his arousal.  The feeling of the shirt against his cockhead nearly made him swoon.  He passed by his mirror, and looked at himself, lifting up the shirt.  It was unwaveringly hard.  It had been awhile since he last had sex, and with his girlfriend visiting her mother, he knew they wouldn't be getting together for at least two more days.

He had left the heat on that night, and the apartment had a cocoon feeling about it.  Jason decided to stay without shorts for awhile.  It felt good.

He went to his kitchenette to fix coffee.  God, there was no sign of his member receding.  Not without the right kind of encouragement.

He sat on a kitchen chair, feeling his bare butt against the plastic of the seat.  He parted his legs and squeezed his muscles feeling his cock bob.

He gripped himself, and began to stroke, feeling the heavy balls bounce.  Jason stretched his legs.  It felt incredible.  This might be the best one yet, he thought as he spread his legs, staring forward across the room.  He saw his reflection on the screen of the small TV in the kitchen.  It excited him further.  He stroked and squeezed, leaning back.  He pulled up his shirt, and flicked a nipple.  Getting close ...  He felt all his muscles tense, and then release.  The flash of a big come roared through him.  He extended his legs, and shot a full, hot stream across the kitchen.  Then another as the heat made him dizzy.  Another followed.  Three good shots.  Then Jason slumped, breathing heavily.

"God," he exclaimed, "Man, what a come!"

He slumped in his chair looking at the series of shimmering trails across his kitchen floor.  He grabbed a towel and went to his hands and knees, to clean them up.  He felt himself swing as he wiped, and opened his legs a bit, to accommodate the swinging.

It was hot in the apartment, now, and Jason turned down the thermostat.  He poured a cup of coffee, turned on the TV, and sat watching the morning news.  Local news.  Same old stuff.  Litanies of serial murders, cats in trees, bomb threats and cancer cures.  All given the same weight.  Mary Kay Branson, local talking head was wrapping the morning segment.  Her co-anchor Steve Fisk, sat hands folded grinning.  She finished with a church bazaar, and then gave a warning to viewers about the next segment.

"It's pretty intense, younger views should be sent away."

"A man masturbated to completion this morning.  These pictures ..."

And there he was.  Jason.  Fully extended, one hand pulling at his nipple, the other hand working his cock in a frenzy of desire, right there in the screen.

"Holy Fuckin' shit!"

Jason jumped up and pulled his t-shirt down, eyes glued to the screen.  The camera cut back to the newsroom.

"That was quite a shot, there, Mary," said Steve, "and I could watch it again.  Mary shook her head vigorously.

"That guy was really equipped for the task," she said with grand enthusiasm. "Other news.."

He turned the TV off.

Jason ran to his bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats and shoes.  He peered out, first the bedroom window, then ran back to the kitchen window, looking around his yard and driveway.  Nothing.

Outside, he checked for footprints, tire marks.  Nothing.

He ran back inside, and and closed his drapes.  His breathing was ragged.  Names and images ran through his mind.  Everyone he knew probably saw that.  The possibilities passed through him, each acknowledgment causing him to shudder.  Buddies at work.  Old girl friends.  His Pastor.  His Boss.

Mom ...

Jason slumped in his chair wondering what to do next.  He turned the TV back on.  There he was, yet again, heated and spurting, this time, in ultra-slow motion.  Modern technology was a demon to him today, as very little of the resolution was blurred.  At his crescendo, his hair swept back from his face, and although blurred, he knew someone would recognize him.

"God, he's really gettin' it," said Mary, at a near whisper.

"Right you are, Mary, and look at that stream ...  it must be at least two feet.  He really ought to get out more.," quipped Steve.

"He should get over to my house," replied Mary, cheerfully.

Then, they both laughed.

Jason called the station.  The line was busy.  Goddammit, he thought.

Well, shit.  It was his day off, so he could dodge coworkers ...  for now.

He looked at the screen.  There was a woman, quite large, leaning forward on her knees, legs spread, and hands underneath, working a dildo in and out of herself.  Her head was turned sideways, and she was wearing a jean skirt, and white tennis shoes.  She looked to be older, about 55 or so.  Then, she turned onto her back, and with one shaking hand, kneaded at her nipples pulling them taut, and moving her hips as she touched the vibrator to herself.

Jason watched getting erect again, almost forgetting about his dilemma.  She spread her legs wide, and shuddered violently as she came.  One shoe slipped off her foot as her legs flopped down and open.  She breathed heavily.

"And this little lady, had no problem getting herself off, as this footage shows ..."

Jesus Christ, what's happening, thought Jason, clutching at himself.

He stood, and again checked the windows and doors.

The phone rang.  Jason answered, shaking.  Could be anyone ...


"Jason, it's your mother."

"Mom ..."

"How are you, Jason? Are you busy? Don't answer..."

"Mom, I don't know how ..."

"Well, it was a very interesting bridge club today ..."

"Mom, I'm sorry."

"Sadie, my best friend of 30 years had to leave the room.  I was so embarrrassed.  We were just playing cards, and suddenly, there you were on TV like a chimp at the zoo.  I don't know whether to move, or kill myself."

"Mom, don't kill yourself."

"This is very disturbing.  Who put you up to that? Jesus Christ, what were you thinking? I'll never be able to look Sadie in the face again.  I had to turn off the TV.  The other bridge players left quietly.  Like something had died in the room.  I have snack food untouched all over the place."

Jason looked at the screen again.  The woman was on her knees facing the screen, now, moving her huge breasts back and forth, while she reached down between her legs, moving her fingers.  The dildo was at her knee.


"Yes, Jason, the public-player-of-self?"

"Mom.  What was Sadie wearing?"

"One of those jean skirts and white tennis shoes.  Why? You planning an afternoon show?"

"No Mom ...  I didn't plan the first one, I don't know what happened ...  maybe they were peeking in my window ..."

"Who does these things? Jason.  I have to go.  First, I'm planning on a heart attack, and then, I'll probably move to Brazil.  After that, who knows.  Goodbye, Jason."

"Mom, don't move to Brazil."

But, she had hung up.

Jason sat in his apartment, afraid to go out.  If I just stay at home, he thought, maybe this thing'll die down on it's own.  He crept to the window and peeked around the blinds.  Still nothing.  Nor any sign of anyone having been there.  Outside, the day looked bright and promising.  Leaves swirled gently, and bird nests could be seen in the branches amongst the buds of the Spring blossoms.  Kids were walking to school past his apartment building.  A group of young girls walked huddled together, then exploded in delirious laughter, their faces reddened, clutching each other.  Jason jerked back from the window.

The news was over, and Jason breathed a sigh of relief.  The morning programming had begun.  Jason decided to make popcorn and settle in.  Maybe the story will just dissipate like do many crashes and fires that are reported, then set aside.

Jenny Jones was on.

"Today on Jenny Jones ...  I'm addicted to the Masturbating Man ..."

Jason turned the set back off.  He stared at the screen and decided to face the world.  He couldn't stay inside forever.  He got dressed and went out, jamming his hand in his pockets and walked head down avoiding eye contact.  People went about their routines all around him.  No one said anything.

No one noticed.  Just another dark-haired dude in jeans strolling down the street.  He relaxed.  After all, he rationalized, my face was partially covered, blurred, and he chuckled, maybe no one really noticed his face.

He decided to get some groceries, after all.

The store was busy.  Jason wandered around getting sundries and a can of Spaghetti O's for dinner.  As he reached for the can, a woman walked up to him.  She was middle-aged, and neatly dressed in a deep blue business suit, and matching, low-heeled shoes.  Her hair was in a bun, and she wore thick framed glasses.

"Excuse me ..."


"I hope I'm not bothering you, but I'd really like your autograph."


"Aren't you the guy ...  I mean ...  you know ...  I won't say anything to anyone ...  but you were wonderful.  Could you ...?"

She held out a pen to him.

"Oh ...  yeah ...  sure ..."

He fumbled for a pen knowing he didn't have one.

"Here." She reached into her purse, and handed him a pen.

"Write, ‘to Claire, who is in my fantasies' ..."

Jason wrote the inscription, then thinking better, signed a different name than his own.  She took the pen, and reached under her skirt running it between her legs, then handed it back to him.

"This is for you, baby," she said in a whisper.  She then turned, and left.

Outside, except for a couple of shrieking girls, Jason was unrecognized.  He returned home, to a blinking message machine.  The lights seemed brighter, more insistent.

"Beep ...  Jason dude ...  Mr.  Spooge ...  way to go, dude ..."

"Beep ...  Hey, Jason, it's Barb ...  uh, we are like so through, okay ...  see ya ...  bye."

"Beep ...  Jason, call your mother.  I'm moving to Brazil ..."

"Beep ...  Jason, this is KBZQ, give us a call."

Damn! Jason called the station.

"This is Jason.  You called me ...  and how the hell!!?"

He could hear a lot of scuffling on the other end, then a voice.

"Hi, Jason, this is Carl Thomas, producer."

"How'd you guys get me? I can't believe this ...  what gives you the right ...  God ...  you have any idea ...  I oughta ..."

Jason was stammering.

"Look, Jason.  you sound upset ...  but you can't believe it down here.  The phones haven't stopped ringing.  We've had to hire two additional people to work the switchboards ...  it's nuts.  Anyway, what I wanted to ask is, are you agented?

"What? What!"

"Who's handling you? The reason I ask is we'd be more than happy to show your face more clearly, if we knew we could ...  maybe create a show around you ..."

Jason nearly fell out.

"Are you CRAZY!!!? I should be suing you!!!!"

"Look, I can feel you're a bit ...  uhhh, concerned ...  so I'll let you think about it a little bit more ...  I have your number, okay?"

"No ...  no it's NOT okay ...  you are ruining my life ...  don't call me again, okay? ...  I'm getting an attorney ..."

Jason hung up and looked around his apartment.  With the drapes closed it looked dark.  His now-famous towel was still on the table.

The phone rang again.  Man, thought Jason, who else? He reluctantly answered.


"It's Sadie.  You probably won't remember me.  I'm a friend of your mother's.  We play, or I should say, played bridge together."

"Sadie? Uh, yeah ...  I know who you are ..."

Jason could feel himself getting aroused.  The replay of Sadie's gyrations was tickling his member.

"Well, that's good ...  Look, Jason, we gotta get together.  I gotta talk to you.  I'm your mother's best friend and she's crazy with concern ..."

"I dunno," said Jason, "I don't want people to know where I live."

"Okay, how about Moe's Coffee shop around the block from your place?"

"That sounds better."

"Okay, honey, I'll see you there."

Jason threw on a jacket and headed over to Moe's.  On the way, he was stopped by a guy in crew cut, bare-chested, wearing tight jeans.  After convincing him that he wasn't the guy, and turning down a free drink, he continued to Moe's.  He saw Sadie sitting at a booth, both hands on her coffee cup, looking down.  A menu was on the table, and she was staring at it.  He touched himself briefly to rearrange his cock.

"Hi, Sadie."

She looked up and smiled.  She was wearing the same outfit.

"You have quite the memory, honey." You were quite young when your mother and I were first friends."

"Oh that's not how I remember you," Jason said in a rush of unedited speech, "I saw you this morning on TV."

As soon as he said it, he thought, shit, I can't believe I said that.

"TV?" When? No one's talked to me? You saw me on TV?"

"Wellll ..."

He laid out the whole scenario.  Sadie's face got ashen.  She started to slump in her seat.

"Are you sure it was me? What did this woman have on?"

"Jean skirt, white tennis shoes, I think the blouse, was white, but I remember the ...  thing ...  the vibrator was black ..."

Mabel's head nearly hit the table.  She sat upright and looked desperately around the room.  No one seemed to pay them any mind.  She knew she couldn't make a fuss.  That would draw attention.  She decided to sit.  She pulled up the collar of her blouse, and set the menu up as a partial barrier.

"How did they do that? I mean, Jesus, did they crawl around under my window ...  my God, Jason, I was exposed ...  I mean really exposed!!!"

She put both hands to either side of her head.

"That explains the free ride ..."


"I got a cab ride this morning, and the driver smiled at me the whole trip, and when I handed him the money he said, ‘thanks, but you keep it.  It is my gift to you.' I didn't know what he was talking about until now ...  shit."

Jason patted her hand.

"I don't think that many people saw you ...  you weren't on as long as me ...  I made Jenny Jones that same morning ..."

They sat silently looking at each other.  Jason broke the silence, while Mabel bit her lip and shifted nervously in her seat.

"Mom's thinking of moving to Brazil."

"Yeah, she told me.  I told her to think it through ...  anyway ...  uhhh ...  Jason, there's something I gotta talk to you about."


"Your little performance this morning ...  was interesting ..."

"I got the impression that you liked it."

"it was ...  pleasing ...  you could say that I was affected ...  Now, I know I'm in deep water, here, but did you ...  I mean, see ...  that is, like seeing me?"

Jason nodded quietly.  She put her hand on top of his.

They sat quietly.  Sadie ran her finger up and down the back of Jason's hand.  He felt the touch all the way to his cock, which was going crazy.  He opened his legs, and felt his foot touch her foot.  Her legs were open as well.  She stepped out of a sneaker and touched his leg with her barefoot.

"Uhhh ...  Jason.  I have to be honest.  Sometimes I need the feel of a man, and after seeing you on TV ...  and since you've seen me ...  maybe we should explore this together ...  Did you really ...  really get aroused seeing me?"

"Yes, Sadie, yes I did ...  you have a great body ..."

"Jason, I'm an old woman.  I play bridge."

The waitress came back to the table.

"Are you ready to order? Our tossed salads are really good."

Jason looked up at her.  She smiled weakly, showing a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.  She flipped a few pages on her notepad, and handed it him, with a pen.

"I know I could get fired for this, but you both are so hot.  Could you sign this for me?"


He signed her book and handed it to the astonished Sadie, who signed also, while watching Jason.

"Thanks you, guys.  Let me know if you need anything ...  anything at all ..."

She walked away with a definite swish.

"Anyway," Jason continued, touching Mabel's hand, "I'd like to explore this further, too."

She smiled.

"Let's go.  Help me with my coat."

Jason nodded holding her coat as she slipped past him, brushing him forcefully.  Her breathing was heavy and sounded labored.  As she ran her hand down inside her sleeve, she reached down and felt Jason's hard cock.  She gave it a quick squeeze.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she said, looking over her shoulder at him, "I can't believe this is happening.  All of this ..."

They decided to go to Sadie's place.  Inside, they stripped each other, grappling all the way to the bedroom.  Sadie's large body was hot against Jason's skin.  His cock was pounding with each heartbeat.

Mabel was a very ardent lover.  Hot, heavy and resilient.  She gave herself over to Jason completely, and he delighted in her every curve and contour.  His mouth was a perfect fit over her sex, and she drew her legs back, holding them as he flicked his tongue at her slit.  He rose from her, pussy, and his famous dick eased into her famous snatch.  She relished the feel of him.  Her first orgasm was quick, then came another one, long and shuddering, as he pumped her hotly.  Jason came big, too, shooting deep inside her as she held onto his butt cheeks.  Finished, they laid atop, then beside each other.

"Well," Sadie said, "that was certainly what the doctor ordered."

She turned to face him hand on her cheek.

"So, how do we do this? How do we handle this thing, anyway?"

"I dunno.  What about my mom?"

"She'll get over it.  But, what about you and I? Can we get together from time to time?"

"Sure.  But, I guess we'll have to lay low until this thing passes."

"I could do that," said Sadie moving her body into his, grasping his cock.

Then, she stopped.

"Oh, my God ...  what time is it?"

"About 2:03."

"'Young and the Restless' ...  it's on right now ...  I never miss this one.  Jason, honey, hand me the remote.  It's on your side of the bed."

They laid in bed, and Mabel turned on the TV, settling against him.  Jason sighed, not quite ready for an afternoon of soaps, but decided maybe some other people's problems might be fun for a change.

"We interrupt the 'Young and the Restless,' for this special bulletin ..."

There were Mary and Steve, smiling.

"Speaking of restless, this couple seems to be pretty restless ..."

There on the screen were Sadie and Jason deep in heat.

"You're right, Mary," said Steve. "Our Jack seems to have found his Jill.  More on this and other news, tonight at eleven."

© April, 2002 by Alan  All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or distributed without written permission from the author.

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