Cowgirl & the The Catwomen of Atlanta

[jack_babalon]

Cowgirl don't have what you'd call an 'indoor' voice. She's a big girl with a big ol' set of lungs and she ain't what you'd call shy. She's been barking orders at the ceiling for the last few minutes now, calling down her God above and making the upstairs neighbors feel a bit uncomfortable about it.
"rrrrRRRR-C'mon baby, C'mon! Give it to mama good!"
She's grips the top of my skull like a crystal ball and begins navigating me along the map of her buried pleasures. Her hands glide along the scalp, sending little shivers of electricty down the stubble. I find the right frequency and shift my neck between her thighs. When I feel her nails begin drilling into the side of my head I figure I got the right spot! I taste the musk of the ocean spreading, clear honey splashing the chin like waves. I can hear her yelling something but shes clamped her thighs too tight for me to hear anything but the blood roar in my head. There is a small trembling that builds up, this is the best part, riding the earthquake. This is all I ever wanted, this is what I wanted to be when I grew up!




A few minutes later and she lets me up for air.
"Heheheh- You're like a lil' rabbit down there ain't 'cha!"
I'm too busy massaging the lockjaw out of my mouth to give a proper retort. 'Sides, I never was much for pillow talk. I pull off my wrestling mask, soaked with sweat & love, reach for my smokes and light up two Camels -one for me, and one for the Cat Headed Demon Mother on the shrine next to her bed. I take a hit to get the smoke going and lay it down gently at the base of the statue. The base is layered with Saint cards from Europe, cut out pictures of models from fashion magazines all of which have been sprinkled with some kind of dried up leaves that have a vague smell of ginger & ash. Around the statue are four votive candles burning and a scotch taped black & white picture of a young Elvis hanging behind her. I nod respectfully to the shrine and the Cat Head Demon Mother retains its frozen grin: A snake tongue rolling out of a vertical gate of fangs. The light from the candles form a sheen along the statues surface. Suddenly i'm compelled to reach out with my free hand, just a quick caress to see if she feels as warm as she looks.

I'm kicked in the ribs by Cowgirl before I make contact, the shock of it snapping me out of my reverie.
"Silly Rabbit...." She giggles. I regain my composure and light up my cigarette, still not taking my eyes of the statue.
"So what's her story?" I ask
"She's my lil' Cat goddess... she watches over me"
"No shit. What like Bast or somethin'...?"
"Does this look like Ancient Egypt to you?"
"No"
"Then stop tryin' to be clever for five minutes... hell you already got me in the sack..."
"Technically you threw me into the bed..."
"Didn't hear you complainin'"
"That's because you cut off my trachea.."
"Watch it or i'll cut off a lot more than that!" She says with a wink and a smile the size of Texas. Ahhh Atlanta Women - they're all heart and madness- and they'll either make a man out of you or send you running into the arms of one!
"So uh...what's her name..." I nod to the Cat Headed Demon Goddess, who to me suspiciously looks like Kali wearing a Halloween costume.
"She don't have one. Don't need one neither"
"Well how do you pray to her..."
"You don't. You can make an offerin' though. By you some time maybe ..."
"Well who is she then?"
She smiles at me good naturedly, shaking her head with pity and muffled amusement
"You jes won't be satisfied 'til you wrap a name around it huh? Typical guy, if you can't spell it- it don't exsist- Heh" She can see the wounded confusion on my face and she takes pity on me.
"She's the Patron Saint of the Cat Women of Atlanta---"
I look at her. I look at the statue- still giving me that fucked up grin. I look back at her. "The cat women of...."
She sits up and shifts her weight against the pillows. Her breasts rise out of the horizon of the sheets, the sight of which suffocates any questions I might have had.
"You were sayin'?" she smiles. I put out my cigarette and climb across the matress towards her.
"Here Kitty,kitty,kitty,kitty..." I purr.

Comments

saint and felines

[kittenspeaks.livejournal.com]

"She's the Patron Saint of the Cat Women of Atlanta---"
*grin*
I knew we had sone somewhere.