SUPERNOVA

Chapter One

“Shit!” 

Yup, you guessed it, I’m sitting here with my hands covered in human fecal matter. 

Oh, and I’d like to imagine that this moment would be better if it was my own. At least then I could come up with some temporary excuse to explain the absolute craziness of this extremely low point in my life. Like the stomach flu, some food poisoning, or hell even some rare fucked up crazy exotic virus that could cause me to end up elbows deep in human excrement and feign some pathetic strand of my dignity. Sadly, I will never be so damn lucky. No, I have coated in alcohol-infused waste of my soon-to-be ex’s now-vacated bowels. Which can only be described at this point, as hot acidic booty juice. 

That’s the best way to describe how my life has been up until this point a big flaming ball of shit. I know it’s expected of me to think back on all the things that lead up to this point and realize that I somehow contributed to the demise of my self-respect and confidence by ignoring the red flags that would have steered me clear of this exact moment. But every time I did it only reminded me that I traded in some of the more care-free mildly adventurous points in my life full of hope and starry-eyed ambition. Only to be covered in the fecal excretion of my drunken lover. 

But hey it could always be worst, and I wouldn’t be me if I were to play it safe and not become a complete head case and dive whole-heartedly into the completely wrong relationship for me. My track record as a sucker for love wouldn’t be complete without an emotional turning point that left me with some type of mental-emotional scaring. But this one was most definitely in the hall of fame for traumatic relationships. Believe me , a lifetime supply of psychotic meds couldn’t turn this train wreck of a situation into a fucking pile of glittery rainbow-coated unicorn fluff. If my life was a flavor, I imagine that right now it would taste like spoiled cabbage and regret. I could pretend that this kind of mess doesn’t happen to me often and I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But to be honest, I’m the living embodiment of Murphy’s law. My whole damn existence is solely set in motion based on the fact that what can go wrong will in fact, abso-fucking-loutely go wrong. At this, particular; moment in my life it is having to drag my inebriated boyfriend out of my best friends Halloween themed costume sendoff party for her big move to the west coast to take on her dream job. 

All while being cursed out by captain shitty pants himself who is coincidentally dressed in a giant shit emoji costume. I tell you I couldn’t make this mess up. Who is now in a vulgar mood all because I’m making him leave early so no one else realizes his party foul? I finally get him up and out of the bar away from everyone without too many witnesses to the event. Only to have him stumble over his self a block away from where my car is parked and turn my mildly embarrassing retreat into a full-on shit show. But of course, it doesn’t end there, because he is far too intoxicated to regain his footing it causes me to reach down and pull him up only to get covered in his shit. 

I hang my head defeatedly and slide down to the ground beside him forcing back the tears that no doubt will soon fall as he continues to rant and yell at me, and I woefully question how my life could have ever gotten so catatonic, I close my eyes defeatedly and start saying a silent prayer that I can somehow make this fucked up night finally come to an end. 

I retreat into the fortress of my mind as I often do these days. The sound of heavy steps echoing across the pavement pull me back to reality if not only from the fear of being discovered in this weak estate. I again try desperately to pull his now unconscious body off the ground. Of course, he chooses this exact moment to finally pass out. Just as I finally get him partially up, he drops back down to the ground with a thud and I go flying backward and collide with what feels like a brick wall or a sturdy tree. My body is suddenly catapulted toward the ground I wince bracing for impact with hard concrete. It's only after a deep velvety voice caresses my ear canals, that I open my eyes I comprehend that I haven’t hit the ground. 

I become increasingly aware of the warmth of huge muscular hands around my waist just below my breast. The smooth velvety warm caramel skin clung to seductive massive curves of muscle, trailing up to broad full shoulders Outlined in what appeared to be intricate golden tattoo ink in hieroglyphic patterns some I recognized like the Ankh the Egyptian representation of life on his rose gold armored gauntlets, others were completely unrecognizable to me with their intricate curves. 

My eyes slowly traced his tattoos the odd tribal patterns leading from his wrist up to his forearm up his biceps disappearing beneath his armor. Each new glimpse of his body sending my pulse through the roof. I could barely breathe with the way he was holding me so close to his chest. As I looked up at the face of my rescuer, I was completely dumbstruck. Not only was I covered in shit, but of all the days I get saved, it happens to be from falling on my shit-covered ass by a living personification of my best collective fantasies in living form. 

The man could only be described as, a seven-foot-tall, Adonis with seductive warm caramel-coated skin wrapped over massive planes of muscles that would make a full-blown nun sigh. I continued to size him up, I catch a glimpse of his long flowing dreadlocks dangling ever so teasingly above his pectorals covered in black and rose gold armor. Painfully preventing me from getting a glimpse of what would no doubt be the most heavenly chest I’ve witnessed on a man like this up close. 

My eyes climb his body further secretly caressing him with my thoughts along the way, my private viewing of his arousing form only further revealing strong broad shoulders. For some reason, I imagine straddling and ridding his face midway between seeing his thick sturdy neck and think to myself ‘well, he could handle it. And then I see his goatee lord there’s something about the sight of a man with facial hair that just makes my knees buckle. Why the fuck does he have to have a goatee to go with all this juicy man meat? I am damn near between running away and proposing when I finally see his almond-shaped eyes and the most intense honey-coated color eyes I’d ever seen. Half of his chest-length dreads were pulled back in a half ponytail, leaving the rest of his locks to rest peacefully on his shoulders. 

How the fuck can this be my life right now seriously. Possibly the finest man I’ve ever seen in life outside of I*******m male models just so happens to be walking the streets as I am just barely escaping one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. To top it all off he’s holding me like a delicate flower that he can’t wait to peel the petals from and, I am covered in the excrement of my current boyfriend.

Which, I’m positive with the way he’s holding me, he’s now covered himself with. Saying a silent prayer that he doesn’t smell the evidence and realize, first off that I’m completely covered in it, second that he is now covered in it as well, third that he doesn’t think that it's of my own making, and fourth, that he doesn’t notice the large man-sized emoji turd; covered in what is no doubt the very cause of the offensive odor. 

I quickly pull myself free of his grasp trying to do some mild damage control before he realizes what he’s walked into exactly. The second I pull free he’s sniffing the air almost instantly. I quickly step to my left in a feeble attempt to prevent him from seeing the cause of all this mess. Which would have worked normally, had he not been a full foot taller than me. “So, thank you so much for keeping me from bashing my skull just now. A concussion was most definitely not needed right now.” I said trying to quickly distract him from coming to the inevitable realization of the situation. 

He immediately glanced over my shoulder at what I was trying to hide. It felt like he was a stressed-out parent who happened to stumble upon a disobedient child’s mess. Now that we weren’t standing so close; I could see he was dressed in what seemed to be an alien warrior costume made up completely of some type of rose gold armor with matching gauntlets, spartan style armor vest, and black and rose gold futuristic combat pants and boots with straps that had some cool light effects that made it look like they were glowing. He even had a mask that looked like a cross between a clear high-tech face shield that was attached to a long air tube that connected to a sleek long oddly shaped canister pack thing on his back. That I could only assume was to represent an oxygen tank for the mask. His costume was impressive. The markings on his skin from the neck down seemed to disappear beneath the costume, leading me to assume he had gone all out to have a massive gold-inked Egyptian-themed henna tattoo drawn on the entire upper half of his body not just his arms. 

He looked like he walked off the set of some expensive sci-fi blockbuster, but it wasn’t remotely familiar. I was infatuated with all things sci-fi and he looked like nothing I had ever seen before. As I made a personal note to do some heavy-duty research on my new potential fantasy obsession. He tilted his head eyeing me curiously like a cat cornering a mouse. 

I could only imagine that my now ruined Akasha costume was a wreck and god did I smell like death. My black skirt splattered on the end with shit, a medium-size splatter pattern across my stomach waist, and chest and I didn’t even want to imagine what my hair and crown looked like. I did a quick check to make sure my metal bustier had been still securely strapped in place, only to get a smear of feces on my hand. I sighed heavily in defeat I honestly haven’t the slightest idea as to how I haven’t puked yet. “So…I like your costume,” I say continuing to make small talk which at this point has made things increasingly more awkward. He just leans his head toward the right attempting to see more clearly behind my back, allowing his hair to move slightly back from his face permitting me to see another golden inked tattoo on the left side of his neck that resembled a sideways Pisces symbol. With two arched curves and a straight line like a strange H wavy lines extending from the top half of the horoscope symbol leading up into his hairline on the back of his neck. It started to protrude a warm golden light it was like looking at a small amber starting to grow into a flame. The glowing looked just like the straps on his armor. “Wow, that’s amazing how did you get your tattoo on your neck to glow.” 

For some reason what I said must have shocked him because his hand shot up to his neck. He pulled his hand toward his face, from this distance it looked like the symbol had briefly transferred to his hand then disappeared. He then returned his hand to his neck as if he were covering an open wound. He quickly turned his head to face me. The look of pure shock in his eyes sent an instinctive surge of panic through me. ‘Now What?’ I thought to myself. ‘First the attack of the walking porter potty now I get to watch my fantasy guy go on a bad trip.’ 

“What does that mean?” a voice thick, strong, and smoother than pure silk reached out and caressed my ears. ‘Damn and I didn’t think this man could get any sexier.’ His thick baritone voice was like hearing Vin Diesel on a surround sound speaker system on repeat lord I would love to feel the vibrations from his voice echo through my body. Then I looked at those full juicy lips that delicious aphrodisiac of a voice came out of and instantly got drawn back into my fantasy of riding his face I was enthralled with the idea of his lips placing warm sloppy kisses to my drenched core as his tongue slicked through the folds of my pussy until he reached my throbbing bud flicking his tongue mercilessly across my pulsating clit and then he lets out the sexiest primal roar as that rough honey voice of his sends me over the edge he repeats his question instantly ripping me from my most intense fantasy yet. Oh yeah, I and my butterfly vibrator were undeniably going to have a good time when