Carnal Satisfaction
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In a small remote town, not to far away from a desert beseeched in scorching sands and peculiar lizards that you could get a rather exhilarating experience if licked quite furiously.

Jomar, a man born into a highly religious family, was forever forcefully sworn into abstinence by their families command. After marriage, he was still bound to such a contract. Never to taste the sweet embrace of the one he may find to love. He wasn't even allowed to preform any sort of carnal sexual fantasy or technique ever conceived when he was alone.

The sun shone through a set of sun-bleached blinds, in a terribly constructed house. It was falling apart. Cracks and peeling flakes of earth dotted about the rooms, a rather large opening formed near the kitchen, allowing a family of mice to settle in. Mud wasn't exactly the best material to be making a darn house out of, but rain hardly fell in this dry arid region. So, no fear was given of the towering two floored house that may of melted all around Jomar, drowning them both in their sleep if rain did decide to rear its insidious face.

Squinting eyes greeted the new mourn. Groaning and sluggish undead like movement, hauled itself out of the bed, while trying not to rouse a sleeping spouse. For, swift death and hollow screams shall billow forth, if the slumbering wife figure was to rouse. Or so he'd imagine.

His wife wasn't the most loving really. Probably to do with something concerning a certain practice. It's no wonder she hasn't left him already and moved on to new heights of delight. Even though, that gardener that attends to the cactuses out the front of the house seems to dive in and out of windows quite a lot, whenever he sees him coming back.

Chunks of dirt were kicked up or even stuck to the souls of his feet as he cumbersomely walked in a half dazed delirium, down the stairs to the kitchen. He nearly lost his footing as a large chunk of mud had dislodged from the stair case and rolled rather loudly down the rest, ending in a thunk against the wall. Not much notice was taken has he shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed a hold of the ice chest's handle. (an ingenious invention to say the least. Small little creatures that resemble trolls with pale blue skin that breath snow, held in a convenient cage made of solid bronze and a easy slide out cleaning tray.)

Jomar winched out a icy wooden crate by a cold rope strap caked in frost, and carelessly dumped it on his mud laden table. The little trolls barked obscene words of anger in their frost bitten tongue, at the unanimous face of Jomar who slammed the ice chest closed. He then went outside squinting in the sunlight, walking over to an old rubbish looking shed that may as well have looked identical to his house. He bent back the wooden doors, creaking rather loudly from the rusted hinges and strode on in, collected a wooden bucket ridden with holes, with tiredness still resting in his eyes, he knelt down. mad howls of goats began has he tried to milk, but to no avail. A thick, hairy skull with two curvy horns ploughed its way across a surprise stricken face, kicking and running off into the back of the shed then suddenly retreating to tears, kneeling upon some straw.
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