Sense & Nonsensibility (VI) Encounters In The Forest Of The Broken Noses
Episode VI: Encounters In The Forest Of The Broken Noses
Charlotte ran and ran followed by the angry mob that after a sleepless night spent searching for her felt at that point ready to lynch anybody . The woods were thick with tall trees hidden in the morning mist and that were really difficult to see. Her pursuers zigzagged through them as well and fast as they could but one after another began to bump into the trunks and smash their faces. Very soon the forest ground was littered with unconscious villagers with broken noses and Charlotte found herself running alone. She had the advantage of practice because her hobby was running naked through the forest with her eyes closed. She knew the trees never would hurt her because they were her friends. In spite of the trees friendliness she got completely lost and trees couldn’t give her directions. She tried to make small chat with a with an old oak and although he was good listener he didn’t speak too much.
She walked through the misty forest wearing an oversized dirty shirt that she had snatched from Vladimir’s laundry basket but both her and the shirt were in a sorry state after the chase through the woods. Her hair was entangled with leafs and branches one of them with a cuckoo nest still on it. Walking around covered with mud and sweat she looked like a rape victim, which unfortunately, she thought, was not the case. She wanted to go back to Vladimir’s hideout or he would surely starve to death, or worse, he might get out by his own means and leave. But to rescue him first Charlotte had to find out where she was.
She walked through the woods all day and it was already early evening when she sighted a road. She followed the road and not one hour had passed when she saw the most peculiar thing she had ever witnessed. In the distance she spotted two riders coming in her direction. One of them was tall and had a beard almost as long as himself. The other was fat and round. Seen from the distance they looked like Don Quixote and Sancho although she couldn’t see that because she hadn’t read the book. The riders neared and she had to repress her laughter because seen from closer they looked totally hilarious. They stopped in front of Charlotte and the fat round man removed the red scarf that hide his face revealing a exceptionally comical shiny pig snout.
‘ Tell me young lady…’ started the pig man, who was of course count Malamilk
When Charlotte saw the piggy-nosed man beginning to talk she could hold no longer and bursted into laughter and urinated herself. The riders were perplexed. A woman with wild dirty hair and covered in mud coming from out the forest to urinate in front of them. Where those the manners of English ladies, they wondered.
‘ What is this? Why is this woman laughing? I think she is crazy. ‘ said father Vladivicious
‘ Those might be an English form of greeting. Some sort of local peasant tradition to welcome foreigners.’ said the count to the priest, and then addressing Charlotte that was suffering a hysterical fit on the ground he asked ‘ Listen Lady, we are foreigner from a faraway land and we are looking for a friend of ours, also a foreigner. Maybe you have heard of him? His name is Vladimir but he is known as Dick Turnip in this lands. Do you know him?’
The mention of Vladimir’s name stopped her hilarity in it tracks. The man with the golden nose could be no other than the jealous count of Vladimir’s story and it was unlikely they were here to deliver him a lottery prize. She would have to do again what she did best, she had to lie.
‘ No. I don’t know the man you just mentioned sir. In fact I don’t even know the name you mentioned. I am just the poor innocent daughter of an innocent local landowner who grows innocent potatoes. ‘ she said in a passable rendition of innocence.
The tallest man smiled and looking into her eyes asked ‘ Is that a fact young lady?’
‘ Oh yes sir ‘ she said staring at the ground not daring to return his gaze while playfully scratching the earth with his left toe.
‘ Then you will have to explain me why I dreamt of you last night. You were in a house in this woods, talking to the very man we are looking for. And why you are you wearing a shirt with the name Vladimir Andreassi embroidered on it? Catch her, you idiot! ‘ yelled the priest
Charlotte had tried to run away but the men on their horses were certainly faster and more in number. They tied her and put her inside a sack on the back of the priest horse, because the count’s horse certainly couldn’t take any extra weight without faltering. They checked in a nearby inn but the owner wanted them to pay six shillings more for an extra bed for the screaming sack, so they throw her into the well and only had to pay a storage fee. They left her there, in the dark bottom of the well with water to her breasts and the only company of frogs that turned out to be quite tasty later. Now Charlotte was locked in the dark inside a well while Vladimir was locked in the dark in a closet. The intermingling of their destinies was inevitable, they were made one for another, she thought while beheading a frog with her teeth.
At that very moment Vladimir was chewing some papers inside the closet. He had spent the day there and had begun to lose hope of ever being rescued. He thought that it was a suitable tragic final for his sinful life: to be found dead inside a closet with his bones scattered among other discarded objects. The darkness and lack oxygen had begun to play tricks with his mind and once he had thought to see the face of his brother in the dark but had turned out to be just a missing sock he had lost weeks ago. The evening light had died and now he was in complete darkness ripping the most palatable pages of a magazine for his dinner when he heard steps on the room outside.
‘ Vladimir? Are you at home?’ said a female voice.
He recognized that voice instantly in spite of not having heard its sensuous timbre in five years. It was countess Velma Malamilk and when she unlocked the closet door she was already naked and motioning him to the bed.
He kissed her on the velvety crimson lips that were glossy and rich while his strong hands caressed the smooth curvy surface of her voluptuous body leaving a track of fire sinking into her pale skin. He lasciviousness grabbed her breasts that were like pomegranates the size of watermelons and squeezed them as if expecting to obtain some juice to extinguish his burning desire. Her lustrous starved mouth restlessly wandered the rocky landscape of his chiseled torso and powerful limbs until it found his proud bloated member and swallowed it with voracity. When finally his powerful spear pierced her she screamed in an orgiastic rapture of pleasure that propelled her eyeballs across the room and they have to stop for a minute to look for them. They made love furiously until the bed caught fire and then they kept making love with renewed vigor on the carbonized blackened bed frame. Their naked bodies were covered with cinder and sweat but they didn’t stop until she banged her head against a beam and the roof collapsed.
After hours of passionate lovemaking they rested, their exhausted bodies laying on the ruins of the house. When they finally recovered their ability to speak Vera informed Vladimir about the arrival to England of her husband in the company of the mad priest. She told him they would leave that same day and sail to America where the wide open spaces would allow her to scream even louder every time they made love. She told him about her intention of buying a big ranch in the Wild West where they would raise stallions and watch them copulate to get more excited to make love every evening under the starry sky and later again in bed and before breakfast, and during breakfast. And after breakfast. He would have to do all the heavy lifting of course, because she had to rest from all that lovemaking. Vladimir was too busy trying to catch his breath to listen to her ramblings, but then she said something that caught his attention. She told him about how a few days ago an old peasant woman had approached her on the streets of Budapest on her way to a fund-raising for a charitable Christian organization. Her first though had been that the woman was a beggar but just when she was about to hit her with her umbrella the woman had placed a letter on her hand and ran. The letter was addressed: Vladimir Andreassi
‘ Did you open it? ‘ asked him candidly.
‘ Of course I did silly! I don’t think an stinky octogenarian beggar is your type, but if it was a woman’s letter I certainly wanted to know. This belongs to me now.’ said her squeezing his penis, softly but with determination.
‘ Well, what did the letter said? You said it was addressed to me. By who? ‘
‘ Oh, sorry l forgot ‘ she said giggling and squeezing harder.
‘ What? Where is the letter? Did you bring it with you? ‘ he asked.
‘ Yes, I did, silly, it was in my purse, but I slept last night at nearby inn and I might have forgotten it there. I was so excited to see you after such a log separation that it might have slipped my mind’ she replied while feeling his member for life signals.
‘ Don’t you even remember what it was about? Do you know who sent it? ‘ he asked
‘ I don’t know sweetheart… I began to read and it was really boring. I saw that it wasn’t woman’s callygraphy and put it back inside the envelope because I began to feel that I was invading your privacy. I remember one thing though. ‘ said her.
‘ What?’ asked him clenching his fist.
‘ The P.S. said Remember, your brother Janos Andreassi will never forget you’
To be continued…
What the hell! What astonishing revelations about Vladimir’s brother contains the mysterious letter? Will Vladimir ever recover the letter and find out what is going on? Will poor captive Charlotte evade his perfidious captors just to end up married to a horse? Will the ravenous sexual appetite of the countess ever be satisfied? We hope not because is fun to write about big tits.