Cold Room (Ali with a Large Member)

"This thing a member? Nae marry-come-up! 'Tis a grand pumpkin, the choicest of prize turnips!"

"Ten seconds," announced the time keeper.

"Commandeering!"

"Point against cavalry!"

"Whimsical!"

She turned to look Ali and added a pause for good measure, "I will put it in the lottery! Assuredly 'twould be no bigger prize for you to win!"

"Time!" A round of shouts and thunderous clapping met the pronouncement.

"She looked at the dumbfounded Ali and told him, "Such, my dear simple sir, is what you might have said, had you equal wit to your girth. But, O most lamentable women who upon expecting the whole of the world and the stars above, only receive an atom of the things that give power to our excitations that should come from your lips. To serve me all the pleasantries I quote before this noble audience who witnessed my triumph. . .e'en so you are never to speak of it again, know that the greater of your sex organs does not lie in your pants, 'tis should be what resides between your ears and sadly sir you have only the air you breathe. And now bested by a woman, of your other you shall never breathe another word."

"She gracefully pushed her stool back under the bar and walked to her lover and embraced him. Ali watched quietly taking off his apron and folding it up to leave on the bar. She twirled again and bowed, as the women led another loud round of applause as the two lovers left the bar, arm in arm.

I turned back to the couch and Susan let out a burst of claps. "Love it, way to go girl!"

"Feeling better yet I see."

"Yes, nothing like a little shit to get the blood boiling."

"Good to hear." I walked to over to the pile by the front door and grabbed out for two more logs for the wood stove. The fire bathed the whole living room in an orange light, over Susan's shoulder, out the picture window I could see the last of the sun's light fade from the sky across the lake.

"These logs should last us into the wee hours of the night. The cabin is finally starting to heat up. In an hour or so, your bedroom and clothes will be warm enough for you."

Susan looked up at me, "If you want to ask me your question, you still owe me a story."

"Hmm, I have warmed you with a little tale of lust and then made your blood boil with a lost bet, perhaps I should finish up with something to warm up your heart."

"Does it involve more big cocks?"

"Well one."

"Not that bastard Ali again."

"Well yes, he deserves a second chance, perhaps even a chance at love. After all you should always let a joyous start guide you."

"Alright, but if I don't like it, I am reneging on my promise."

"Alright."

"Ali was done for, he shrank away, leaving through the back entrance and he sat contemplating his fate. Never had a woman talked to him like this. Never had he been turned down in such a way. And so his thoughts went all night through anger, grief and hate until they sharply focused on him. The setting moon fell bright orange and large against the horizon and for the first time in his life, he felt small. The dawn was coming and he was done for words, so he sat in silence breathing in the smell of dew on flowers waiting to greet the morning sun.

"Ali thought of his mother, the perfumery and of the flowers, losing himself in their scents, he felt something that he had not felt in a while. It was a gentle feeling at first, no more than the flame of a candle, it grew and grew until he realized what it was, he was embracing happiness. He stood up and told himself that it was time to go home, time to make others feel as good as he felt in that moment. Along the walk home, he thought of one more thing, he would take a vow of silence to honour his bet. He would only use twenty words for the rest of his life, none of them to do with his heavy burden. Nineteen words he knew right away but save the twentieth word, a word he kept to himself. A word that he was not ready to speak.

"His mother, seeing the change in him, took him in and taught him everything that she knew and kept her husband at bay. In silence he sat in the courtyard underneath the trellis of roses. He sample every flower that was on offer, and recorded every sensation, every reaction. Soon he became as well known as his mother, the quiet studious doctor of scent and went to serve in the court of the King.

"Seeing his King furious at the betrayal of his King, he tried everything to soothe his anger but in the end there was one thing he could not wash away, the King's lack of trust in women. After beheading most of the unwed women in the Kingdom, the fate fell to the woman of his desire and her sister Scheherazade.

"After the palace guards took them to the King's chamber, Scheherazade's sister came to him, "Tonight my sister marries the King and in the morning she will lose her head, then the next night it will be my turn."

"He looked at her and asked her to marry him. It was the one word he had held out using for so long. Never dreaming it was possible, never dreaming of these circumstances.

"But it was too late and the woman sobbed, "If only you had proposed sooner, I could have avoided this fate, but Ali with my sister near dead, I cannot enter into marriage under such horrible circumstances. Her fate will be mine, I cannot live without her, and her stories. We have spent every night together since I was just a child. How can I sleep? How can I dream? I shall never know happiness again in what is left of my life."

"Ali pulled her close and held her until he too was crying. There was nothing that could be done about it or was there? Ali stood up and reached for the book of recipes that her mother left to him. In the back, hidden away was a concoction so powerful, that his mother had only used it once and she would never discuss what had happened, except to explain that it was never to be made by him. He grabbed her hand and a basket and they picked the most potent blossoms from the King's own gardens. The elixir was finished and the sister delivered as a wedding gift in the most expensive Egyptian glass bottle she could find with a note tucked under a red ribbon.

"To stimulate the circulation and euphoria of the man nearest to you when you put this on. Use sparingly, with love, your sister. And Scheherazade did use it, every night for a thousand and one days and a thousand and one stories until the King, fully disarmed and once again ready to trust again, renounced his pledge to behead his bride.

"Ali was then free to marry his love and on their wedding night, they both shared more joy than any storyteller could have imagined."

"Mmmm" I couldn't really tell if that meant Susan was asleep or not, I gently touched the back of my hand to her forehead and she was no longer ice cold. I pulled them blanket up around her shoulders, fed the fire and pulled the duvet off the bed and on to the floor. The moon had long since set and I sat listening to the sounds of the night. Perhaps in the morning, I would get the answer to my question.

The End