Index

This is a sequel I started and it is the first story I ever wrote. It’s about Eddie Vedder and it starts with the first time ‘she’ ever meets him...and it ends (it doesn’t) in 2014.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/07/1.html

This is some serious smut I wrote. It’s about a guy living in a remote French castle.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/07/1.html

This is the 18th chapter of that story that started in Tivoli.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/09/18-insecure.html

This is a one take about a band that has a new singer, and they practice in the rhythm guitar player’s and his sister’s house. It is inspired by the song Black.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/10/the-new-singer.html

This is a gothic story. Of course it isn’t finish...it got too complicated. It’s about a young illustrator who stays in a cottage of a presumed haunted manor. and are there two Eddies? Edward and Jerome?
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/11/myosotis.html

Here is a one take I wrote because of a dream a good friend of mine had.
She dreamt a voice calling ‘he is here’... and she saw a big shed.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/11/the-dream-that-wasnt.html

Another non finished story....situated in my hometown Amsterdam. It has Flamish fries with mayonnaise in it.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2014/12/bike.html

Again situated in Amsterdam....decoy.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/decoy-challenge-work-in-progress.html

Some one takes. The so called ‘challenge’. Me and some other fanfic writers gave each other a challenge; a picture and maybe a short synopsis - and then we had to write a story.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/decoy-challenge-work-in-progress.html
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/challenge-beach.html
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/stray.html
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/challenge-festival.html
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/challenge-my-true-nature.html

A sequel about a nanny from the Netherlands living with a family in San Diego.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/01/nanny-in-san-diego-part-1.html

A one take about a young urban professional who ‘finds’ a young stoned tourist at the side of the street. Again this story is situated in the city of Amsterdam. Venice of the North.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/05/lost-boy.html

The sculptor.
My most favourite ‘Eddie’, who isn’t Eddie.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor.html

Chapter 21 of the nanny...in case you wondered with that story...
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/05/nanny-in-amsterdam-part-21.html

The next chapter of “The girl with no name”, chapter 6.
Which is a clifhanger, because fuck knows what’s gonna happen next.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2017/01/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-6.html

This is the last sad attempt of writing. But i just can’t get into the flow like I used to.
https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2018/02/the-pervert-part-1.html

That’s it...for now...lol

The pervert, part 2

My eyes burn. I've been sitting behind the screen too long, writing a review of some documentaries I have to watch for a work assignment. While I'm rubbing my eyes I hear a soft knocking on a window.
Frowning I get up and walk to my kitchen where the sound is coming from. I cannot see anybody, but then I hear the knocking on my front door. I peek through the small window and see a child standing in front of it. The child is holding a large bouquet of flowers.
Smart. Because I will only open my door for a child after what happened.

"Hello, miss, my uncle told me to bring you these flowers and this letter." With outstretched arms the child persuades me to take the letter.  "I really hope you will read. My uncle said I had to wait here till you read it. Please read it."

With arched brows I look at the child while I open the envelope. In it is a postcard with a donkey on it. At the back is written with crude block letters:

Please accept these flowers as a sincere apology for the behaviour of my colleague. I can assure you that he is NOT the scumbag you might think at this moment. If you could hear his side of the story you would understand. He really did not want to frighten you, and he is no creep. He is a good guy and a hard worker. But sometimes he just pushes too hard for his own good. I hope you will hear him out.

Kind regards,

Henry

"Henry is your uncle?" I ask the child.
"Yes, miss."
"What's your name?"
"Polly."
"Well, Polly. You can tell your uncle I read the letter. But maybe it's better if you give the flowers to your mom or your aunt. And tell your uncle Henry I don't want to talk to his colleague...uhm Ed."

"Okay."
"And Polly, you did really well. You're quite the messenger." I smile at her.

"Bye now." I close the door as she walks away.

~"Hear him out. Duhhh, don't think so."~

I reread the postcard.

~ "Not a creep! Ha! With his pants down and his face in my panties...not a creep?"~

==========

When I get home from doing the groceries I notice there is someone sitting at the stairs of my apartment building.
It's the creep.
Although he isn't wearing that beanie with the buttons but this time a backward cap I recognize him immediately.
I quickly turn around but he already saw me.

"Please wait!"
"Go away." I sort of run.
"Please, miss, this is gonna cost me my job if you don't give me a chance to explain."

I stop.
"Talk."
"Can I buy you a coffee?" He points at the little café just over the bridge.

Misha gives me that 'we've got some catching up to do, girl'- look, when the creep and I sit down at a table by the window.

"What can I get you?" She leans on the table giving the guy her most enchanting smile.
I must admit. He does look cute.

"How are you, baby?" Misha gives me a hug...whispers in my ear. "Da fuck, girl?"
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head.
"Cappuccino for me, please, Misha."
"Uhhh...just coffee, black."
He looks up at Misha and gives her a dimply smile. "Please."
~"Damn!"~
Misha and I seem to think the same; smiles like that should come with a warning.

"So..." I start. Looking at my hands because I hardly dare to look at him.
"Yes...hmm..."He mumbles.
"You...erm..."
"Yes...you caught me with my nose in your underwear."
I look up when I hear a laugh in his voice.
"It's hardly funny."
"No."

"Why did you say you would lose your job?" I ask, my face all earnest, trying to look into his eyes. Big, blue, baby eyes.
"Because you think I'm a pervert."

"Well, yeah!"
He rubs his face with both his hands. He breathes in and out quite loud.
"I get that..."

He leans forward and with an intense look in his eyes he continues.
"But you see...I didn't...I didn't realize those where your panties when I grabbed them."

At that moment Misha brings us our coffee.
"Here you are, darlings. And I baked brownies today. So I want you to taste them."
Grateful the perv looks up, this time a more timid smile.
"Thanks." I mumble, frowning at the guy in front of me.
With raised brows Misha looks at me and the cute creep.
"Well, enjoy." She says and walks away, giving me another look over her shoulder.
~"I'll explain."~ I mouth at her.
I'm so privileged to have such a friendly café a stone's throw away. I often sit here working on my laptop. But now I realize that because of that I don't have much privacy.
Misha, who is only slightly older than me, can be such a mom.
I shrug.
~"Oh well...it's a safe haven too in situations like this, I guess."~

The cute creep scrapes his throat.
I look back at him, and notice a strand of long brownish hair escaped his backward cap. It sort of accentuates his neck. Which is long and strong.
I feel my cheeks burn suddenly.

"So...not my panties."

He sort of pouts. Putting his bottom lip forward.
"No...I didn't realize they where your panties...just a piece of cloth."
"Why?"
"I can understand if you won't believe me, but I'm glad you want to listen."
He reaches over the table, in an attempt to touch my arm, but I lean back.
"I have nosebleeds."
With his thumb he strokes his chin.
He has a soul patch.

"Quite often..."

"Nosebleeds?"

My mind flashes back to the image of him sitting on my toilet with my panties pressed against his face.
Nosebleeds.
He drinks his coffee while I let sink in what he just said.
I notice him watching me intently again. With those eyes. Big, blue...

Nosebleeds.

"So?"
"Yes...when I strain myself, like in heavy physical labour I sometimes...well get nosebleeds."
"...quite often..." He repeats softly.
"....and you got one when..."
"Yes." He chuckles. "That chest was quite heavy."
He turns to Misha who is busying herself behind the counter. Trying to hide her curiosity.
"Those brownies are wonderful! Thank you for letting us taste them."
"You're welcome, my dear." Misha glows, then awkwardly winks at me.
"I would like to pay, please?" Blue eyes asks.
"But my nickers?" I interrupt.
He turns back at me.
"I grabbed them, not thinking, I just wanted something to stem my nosebleed.
You see? I just...well...sorry...I know what it must have looked like."

The wooden chair makes a scraping sound when he pushes it back to get up.
Misha hands him the check, and he grabs his wallet from the back of his shorts.
I now notice he is wearing long johns under his shorts. In a flower pattern.

I wave at Misha while he holds the door open for me when we leave.
He holds the bag with my groceries up.
"Don't forget them." He grins at me. That dashing smile showing incredibly cute dimples.

"So...will you call my boss?" He asks, now biting his lip and straining his brows in a puppy manner.
"Why would I."
"To report..."
"No. I never thought of that."
"Really?" He seems relieved.
"But you believe me?"
I shrug.
"Sure. But you should see a doctor. For those nosebleeds."
"I will. Thank you. My name is Eddie, by the way."
I nod. "Bye, Eddie."

I look over my shoulder when I walk back to my house.
I see him leaning against the wall of the café. He watches me, his head bent, an indefinable look upon his face.

The pervert, part 1

My aunt wrote to me that I had inherited a late 19th century empire style secretaire.
And she told me that she hired movers and they would bring it to my apartment this Friday morning.
I know I'm supposed to be grateful and all, also because it's worth a lot of money, but I've just moved into my new home and I can hardly fit my own furniture in this flat. Besides....I like space. Emptiness. Big windows and empty walls with just one item, geometric - Bauhaus.

The doorbell. They are early. I had just taken a shower and got dressed quickly when I heard the van pull up the dead end street I live. I leave my pyjamas, panties and wet towel on the floor in the bathroom, kick them in a corner. Race to the door.
"Morning, miss. We've got a chest for you." The mover says in a jovial tone of voice. "Can I have a look where you want it placed? It's quite heavy so we'll need to figure out how the get it there also. And it's really delicate too."
"Oh, but will you even be able to get it through my front door?"  I ask hopefully while I show him where I want the thing.
"Just about." The big man says when he shakes my hand. "I'm Henry. My colleague and I will have to get it up the stairway. That might be a challenge too, because the ceiling is quite low."

"Do you want coffee?"
"That would be lovely. I'll go downstairs now and help my colleague."

Nervously rubbing my hands on my jeans I go to the kitchen to prepare coffee for the men. When I open the front door again to inquire how things are going I hear a lot of panting and swearing coming from the stairway.

~"Oh my god, I should have let my aunt sell the damn thing."~ I'm thinking.

The big man, Henry, is on my floor now. Leaning on the rail and taking big shuddering breaths.
When he sees me he tries to smile comforting.

"Just taking a breath. Thing seems made of lead."

I see his hands shake...I feel guilty even though it was never my idea to move that piece of antique anyway.
"Are you sure..." I start but the man interrupts me.

"Okay. We've got more to do." Shouts at his colleague. "You ready?"

I hear a deep baritone mumble.
"Let's do this shit."
And then the heavy panting starts again making me really feel like hiding now.

When the antique colossus appears around the corner, being carried by a red faced Henry and what seems a ridiculously short colleague I flee inside my apartment...busying myself with the coffee I was making.
The orgasmic panting is driving me nuts.

"I made coffee. How do you take it?" I call.
"Oh...just a glass of water will be fine." Henry says.

"Black." The baritone says.

I see him now. He's removing the bubble wrap that is protecting the secretaire from damage.

"Black, please." He repeats.

Next to the giant Henry this man seems tiny. He is tiny.
I wonder how such a small man can be so strong when I see his sinewy arms, still shaking with the effort, while he is screwing some ornament that went loose during the hassle of getting the thing in my apartment back on. Muscled but not an ounce of fat on him.

"Do you have some Gorilla, maybe?" The tiny guy asks.
"Do I have...g...?"
"Gorilla...erm...sorry wood glue?"

"Uhhh...yes! I do. Wait." I walk to a cupboard where I, miraculously, know I have a tiny bottle of wood glue stashed.

Triumphantly I hand it to the guy and when he takes it from me our fingers touch. I hardly see his eyes from under the weird beanie with band buttons he has pulled low over his ears, but he has a nice smile.

"Thanks." He mumbles with that deep voice.
I don't know why, but I blush.

While the big man stuffs the bubble wrapping in a bag and the guy with the beanie makes small repairs to the chest I return to the kitchen to get the coffee and some glasses filled with cool tap water.

"Here is your coffee and water." I place a tray on the table and walk to the secretaire.
It's actually quite beautiful and doesn't look out of place in my room at all.

"Could you sign here....for the billing to your aunt." Henry gives me a pen and points where I have to put my signature.

"Can I use the bathroom?" The other guy asks.
"I'll be going downstairs then." The big man says while he nods at me. "Thank you for the water, miss. Good luck with the chest."
"I'll be waiting in the van, Ed!" He calls after his colleague.


Silence.

I carefully open some drawers on the secretaire. In one of them I find an envelope. It is a letter from the restorer. He writes that it is a late 19th century empire style secretaire made in Germany and it is worth...
~OMG!...I could buy a nice little car with that money...~
Distracted I open another drawer where I find a frame with a picture of me and my dad. I remember when it was taken. Shortly before his death. At my aunt's wedding. He looks so happy. We both do.
I get teary eyed and walk to the bathroom to get a tissue.

We scream at the same time.

~WTF!~

That guy is still here, sitting on my toilet with my underpants pressed against his face.
At first I'm too flabbergasted to react. But then it sinks in.
"This is fucking disgusting!" I yell.
"Oh shit shit shit! It's not what you think!" He pleads at the same time.
"Get the fuck out of my house, you PERV."
"Oh my god...sorry...so sorry...it's not what it looks like...so sorry." He repeats.

Hurriedly the guy pulls up his pants and runs past me, still holding my panties against his face.
The door slams closed after him.
I stare stupefied at the tiles in my bathroom. Slowly I come to my senses.
I pick up the heap of clothes I had left this morning when I got dressed so rapidly.
~Goddamn pervert.~
I sigh. "So stupid of me."

Index The Sculptor

I just had to return to my outburst of hormones driven creativity....but shit...this blogger is not very cooperative when it comes to organizing the chapters.
So I thought i'd make an index by hand.

Here are the chapters of The Sculptor...and it's sequel The Girl with no Name:

The Sculptor

Chapter 1: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor.html

Chapter 2: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor-part-2.html

Chapter 3: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor-part-3.html

Chapter 4: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor-part-4.html

Chapter 5: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor-part-5.html

Chapter 6: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/08/the-sculptor-part-6.html

Chapter 7: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-7.html

Chapter 8: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-8.html

Chapter 9: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-9.html

Chapter 10: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-10.html

Chapter 11: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-11.html

Chapter 12: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-12.html

Chapter 13: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/09/the-sculptor-part-13.html

Chapter 14: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/10/the-sculptor-part-14.html

Chapter 15: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/10/the-sculptor-part-15.html

Chapter 16: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/10/the-sculptor-part-16.html

Chapter 17: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/10/the-sculptor-part-17.html

Chapter 18: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/10/the-sculptor-part-18.html

Chapter 19: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/11/the-sculptor-part-19.html

Chapter 20: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/11/the-sculptor-part-20.html

Chapter 21: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2015/12/the-sculptor-part-21.html

The Girl with No Name

Chapter 1: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/01/the-girl-with-no-name.html

Chapter 2: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/01/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-2.html

Chapter 3: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/02/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-3.html

Chapter 4: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/02/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-4.html

Chapter 5: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2016/03/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-5.html

chapter 6: https://abyssriotact.blogspot.nl/2017/01/the-girl-with-no-name-chapter-6.html

...

And...pfff....well, who knows how this story will end.

Ivar and the wolf, part 3.

In my bed, curled up under the sheets but still shivering, I cannot fall asleep.

I have no idea why I let him do what he did and why it seemed a matter of course. As if it is a natural thing for me to surrender to him. Like I've always known him.
I don't know if I feel like a goddess or a cheap hoe.

I shudder and bite a piece of skin on my thumb.
I must have been daydreaming. It can't have been real.
But I feel a twitch in my womb when I think about his eyes, the whites of his eyes, and his hand, the tightness of his pants.

My cat jumps on the bed. Starts purring and flexing his paws on the duvet.

My breathing gets more even and I feel I'm slowly floating into oblivion.

My phone rings and when I try to get it from the nightstand it falls. The ringtone almost sounds angry now. Grunting I kick the duvet together with my cat to the foot section and reach for the device.

"Hullo." I mumble.

"Good morning sunshine." I hear the cheerful voice of my friend Mara.

"Hhhhh."

"Oh...alright. Let me guess. The wolf?"

"Shit, Mara?"

"Are you still in one piece?"

"Nothing happened!" I exclaim. Trying to convince myself. "He returned my car keys. That's all. He....uh...."

"Did he repair your car?" Mara asks, suspicious.

"Uhm...yes...uh...I guess...."

"You're not sure?"

"Well. I'll look later. It was dark when he brought back my keys."

"Ivar, is everything okay?"

I tell Mara that I've had this weird fantasy about the wolf, about how he entered my house, my mirror, my aura, my intimacy. And how I let him.

"But he has returned your keys?" Mara asks after some silence.

I get out of bed and walk to the table.

On the table are my car keys.

"But how did they get there?" Mara wonders.

"I don't know." I touch the car keys. The cold metal in shrill contrast with the warmth of his hands.

"Ivar?"

"Listen, Mara, it was a dream...it...."

I suddenly remember I have a spare set of my house keys in the clove compartment of my car. So that is how he got in. Yes, must have been.

"Mara?"

I tell her about my keys.

"Shall I send Paul over to get your lock changed?" Says Mara.

"No. It will be alright. Hey, Mara, let me remind you I'm picking you up tonight. Victor's party. Remember? The Marvel party? Get your Poison Ivy costume ready. I'll be at your house at 22.30 hours."

When I break the connection I feel determined to reject the idea that my downstairs neighbour got into my apartment so that he - we - could be intimate. I will check my car's clove compartment and if my house keys are not there I will politely ask them back. The guy is a hottie, not a creep. Of that I'm sure.

Giggling I get into my Marvel villain costume. I do so love these dress up parties.

Victor is an old friend from school. He was a shy boy, but during his college years he did some stuff in IT and well....he got rich. Turned into a party boy. We don't really share the same interests but he keeps inviting me to his parties. Well, I don't complain.

I put on my mask, breath in and adjust my body suit, paste a plaster on my heel - in case I get a blister - and slide in my knee high stiletto boots.

Ready to go. When I get my car keys a heat flash comes over me. I think of the Wolf and his able touch.

My car is here, I walk around it and no visible scratch or dent. As if nothing has happened. The spare keys of my house are still in the clove compartment.

But my car won't start.

Nothing.

Dead.

I mutter a curse and frustrated slam the door.

"Fuck!"

I look at the time. Mara is waiting for me.

What now.

With clenched fists I bang on his door.

"Open up. I know you're home!"

Nothing.

"Eddie, open the door, my fucking car won't start!"

Somehow I feel he's on the other side.

"Eddie?" I whisper.

"Yeah." He says after some silence.

I feel his reluctance when he opens the door.

Then his mouth seems to drop open.

He seems to gasp.

"Catwoman?" He stammers.