Homo & The Marlboro Man

“Dude, do you have to sit so Godamn close?”
“Sorry,” said Tony, scooting over towards the window.
“And why the fuck aren’t you in the back, anyway?”
Tony looked in the back seat at Floyd, Frank, and Snowy, who were already packed in like sardines. “I don’t know. I thought three in the front and three in the back was a much better fit.” –Bobble-bobble-bobble
“It’d be fine if you weren’t one of the three up front!”
“What the fuck’s your problem man?”
“Oh man,” uttered Floyd, putting his forehead in the palm of his hand.
(inhale) “Here we go.”
“Huh…huh-huh.”
Jason turned around to address the three in the back, “You wouldn’t be laughing if you were in my situation How would you feel if you were up here sitting next to a flaming queer?”
“Say WHAT???”
“Huh-huh-huh-huh. Not good.”
“Who’s a flaming queer?”
“You! You haven’t been able to keep your fuckin’ eyes off of me since we met. Winking at me and spewing derogatory remarks in my direction. What the fuck’s the deal with you? I don’t go that way.”
“Neither do I, you narcissist fuckin’ nut-job!”
“Nut? Job? An interesting choice of words. Not crazy, insane or wrong…but NUT! And job! You know why? Because you got my nuts on your brain!” Continue reading

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Another Piece Of Meat

Tony and Mahdakis sat on the front porch stoop of Tony’s female-birth-giver’s new home, enjoying a cigarette as she and her new companion, Radcliffe, scurried about inside preparing the next course for Thanksgiving dinner. Mahdakis didn’t know that’s what they were doing in there. He thought dinner was over and that perhaps they were washing up or preparing dessert. After all, the six of them had already indulged in appetizers such as ricotta stuffed mushrooms, fried zucchini, marinated mozzarella balls, and antipasto salad. Thereafter, Mahdakis and Nicki were already stuffed and barely managed to get through what they assumed was the main course, baked eggplant lasagna with an asparagus feta salad, immediately followed by a mandatory helping of freshly sliced roast beef and a side of roasted garlic and rosemary potatoes. But this was the Italian way. Mahdakis and Nicki were of the white mutt nationality and knew not of such unabashed gluttony. They also had not grasped the concept of sampling only a bite or two of this and that instead of devouring everything in front of them as rapidly as possible.

It was growing dark outside; the clocks had been turned back. Light from the television in the empty living room smacked enticingly up against the glass windows every once in a while, reminding those outside that there was a game on. Dallas was playing the Vikings. Nicki Tater and Tony’s brother, Pedro Ravioli, took a drive to get some more beer and some smokes. Pedro was clean-shaven with short black hair and was built like a Sneetch, but without the star on his round belly. “Quite a dinner ma’s rustling up in there, huh?” Tony Ravioli said. “You better have some more room in there.”

“Oh man, I don’t know about that. Hey dude, what the hell happened last Saturday night? Why was Polly crying?”

Tony shook his head in bewilderment. “Dude, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I was right outside your bedroom door with Sally, about to come you know.”

“You were; what about me?”

“Dude, I was holding Sally up by her ankles and…..”

“Spare me the visual, will ya? I think I saw anyway. She was upside down, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah! You like that move?”

“Not for me, no. But hey, if sucking on an ugly chick’s mound of meat is your thing, well then God bless. I mean, someone’s gotta do it, right? And it sure the hell ain’t gonna be me.”

“I had to finish myself off, dude. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m sorry. I………What? Where?……Where the fuck did you finish yourself off?!”

“Well I don’t know exactly; it was dark. But I guess somewhere on the couch.”

“The couch? You blew your fuckin’ load on my couch?”

“Maybe it hit the carpet instead. Like I said, it was a little dark and I couldn’t see where it went.”

“So that’s your thing? You just blow loads all over people’s houses whenever you feel like it?”

“I had to! I heard that if you’re worked up that much and don’t let yourself come, you can get blue balls or something.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale. Besides, this whole fiasco is your entire fault anyway.”

“How is it my fault?”

“Hey, you pulled me aside, after you and Sally finally arrived, and told me that Polly takes it in the ass.”

“That’s what Sally said.”

“Well guess what, she wasn’t taking it that night!”

“You tried that move on the first date?”

“I didn’t try anything, I did it! She gave me great head, so I flipped her over and shoved it in, thinking she was really going to dig this.”

“Who digs that?”

“Polly! That’s what you said! You said Polly likes getting fucked in the ass!”

“She hates getting fucked in the ass; that’s what I said.”

“No you fuckin’ didn’t, Mahdakis! You pulled me aside and said, ‘Psst; hey, Polly takes it up the ass.’”

“Right, but I didn’t say she liked it! She can’t stand it, actually!”

“That is some information I could have used!”

“Hey!” The front door opened and a middle-aged man with glasses and a balding scalp stepped outside. “It’s getting a little loud out here don’t you think fellas?”

“Sorry Radcliffe.”

“Sorry.”

“Your mother said she will be serving in about twenty minutes, okay? So be inside. Where’s your brother and Nicki?”

“I don’t know; good question.”

“Well let’s find them or your mother will have a fit.”

Radcliffe went back inside to give the television its much-desired attention, as Tony put his cigarette butt out on the cement walkway and looked away from his friend. “Where the hell is Pedro and Nicki? We need to eat soon.”

“That’s okay, man. I’m gonna pass on dessert. No offense but I’m not a sweets guy myself. Nicki said she was stuffed, too.”

“Dessert? What the fuck’s the matter with you? My birth-giver slaved all day, you can’t leave now!”

“Fine. What is for dessert anyway?”

“Homemade tiramisu and fresh cannolis I think, but that isn’t the point! Skip dessert if you want, but we’re serving the main course now!”

“Main course? What the fuck are you talking about? We just had pasta and beef!”

“I’m talking about the turkey with fennel sausage stuffing!”

“The what?”

“And the fish! We haven’t had the turkey yet. You can’t leave, motherfucker!”

“Fish?”

“With homemade bruschetta!”

“Jesus Christ. How am I supposed to eat all that?”

“Just eat a little! She worked hard all day and last night!”

“Fuck man.”

Nicki and Pedro pulled up in the car as the door to the house opened once again and Radcliffe stepped out. “Oh okay, everyone’s here; just in time. Good, now we can eat.”

“Awesome!” Pedro yelled, springing like a rocket out of the passenger’s seat. “That’s what I call timing.” As Pedro got to the porch he smiled at Mahdakis and said, “You coming in, or are you just gonna stay there looking stupid.”

Mahdakis looked at Nicki, who was still in the driver’s seat, and mouthed the words, ‘There’s more food’.

She stared helplessly back at him, wiping her nose then mouthing the words ‘Are you kidding?’

He shook his head ‘no’ and took a step towards her car.

“I have to get back home,” she finally said announced out the window. “This is my Mom’s car and she needs it back. Mahdakis, if you want a ride, come now!”

Mahdakis felt six very disapproving eyes staring at him on the porch and could not look at any of them. He took another step towards the car and simply said, “Sorry, I have to split, too.” Then picking up his pace towards the car yelled back. “Thanks for everything. Tell your birth-giver that what I did eat was the best I’ve ever had. Awesome!” He jumped in the car as Nicki quickly put it in gear, “See you tomorrow!”

Nicki made a U-turn at the end of the dead end road and sped out as if they had just robbed a bank. “Where to Mahdakis, my love?”

“Anywhere…Southpoint. I don’t care; just get me away from all this food. These people are nuts!”

“No shit man, how can people eat like that?”

“And there were only six of us. What the hell?”

“Crazy,” Nicki said sniffling and wiping her nose again.

“So what the hell took you and Pedro so long?”

“Oh, damnedest thing; I had to gobble on his cock awhile in exchange for a bag of coke and he couldn’t come. Ha-ha-ha…Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

Mahdakis looked at her face. She was smiling, probably trying to instigate him. He wasn’t going to bite. Even Nicki had more scruples than to mess around on her boyfriend right under his nose with the brother of her former boyfriend, right under his nose. “Funny,” is all he said.

“Ha-ha-ha….Ha-ha-ha-ha! Okay, Southpoint it is. Let’s see if Curly and Pumpkinhead are around since we’re driving right by.”

“Cool.”

The truth of the matter was, Nicki hadn’t been joking about the Pedro Ravioli thing, and as a matter of fact, had begun dating him behind Mahdakis’s back, so she would tell him two decades later……“Ha-ha-ha…Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

© 2016 Mark Rogers

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Paradise In Purgatory

(Vol. IV)

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To Suck or Not To Suck

Sham Rock walked up to Pumpkinhead and studied him only an inch away from his face, feeling Pumpkinhead’s face with his hands like a blind man reading brail, as if Pumpkinhead were an inanimate object or a painting being observed by an artist. “What’s the matter with you, Pumpkinhead? You look spaced out.”

“Fuckin’ high on angel dust, bro. I’m buggin’.”

“You gotta be careful messin’ around with that stuff. It’ll kill ya you know.”

“Yeah man, I can dig it,” was all Pumpkinhead could say.

“Where’s Nicki? Why didn’t she give you guys a ride?”

“She threw us out of the car after Mahdakis over here called here a fat little cocksucker.”

“What’s wrong with being a cocksucker?”

“Huh?”

“Nicki, I’m talking about. Why would she be upset with being called a cocksucker?” Sham Rock asked.

“Yeah, what’s her problem anyway?” said Rizzo. “I love it when people call me a cocksucker. Especially when it’s a complete stranger driving by and I’m standing on the side of the road with a large group of friends……Or better yet, family members.”

“Family members call you cocksucker?”

“That’s not right.”

“Oh it’s fine. They do it all the time! In fact, that’s how they address my birthday cards. ‘So, you’re one year older….Happy Birthday Cocksucker’.

Ignoring Rizzo’s sarcasm, Dakota suggested, “Maybe it was because you called her a fat cocksucker.”

“Girls don’t like being called fat,” said Kim.

“Yeah…that’s a real sticking point.”

“Cocksucker’s one thing,” Kim lectured on, “but to call a woman fat…well that’s just asking for a beating.”

Ignoring them all, Sham Rock continued, “But being called a cocksucker only means that she’s useful and well liked.”

“It’s derogatory, man.”

“Derogatory shmogatory. Isn’t sucking someone’s dick a nice thing?”

“Sure is,” Tony Ravioli said, bobbling his head. Bobble-bobble-bobble- “Why, you feel like being nice right about now?”

“You’re a wise-ass too, Tony. You and Rizzo are made for each other.”

“And it’s good for the environment,” Pumpkinhead said.

“And fun for the whole family!”

“That’s disgusting. What’s the matter with you anyway, Rizzo? And Sham, why the fuck are you asking this?”

“Contemplating a career change?”

“Shut the fuck up, Bobby. You too, Riz.” Sham Rock turned and studied Mahdakis. “And I don’t know what the hell you’re thinkin’ about over there, but I don’t like that grin on your face. Somethin’ tells me I should bust your head wide open right now.”

“But then you’ll never know.”

“Never know what?”

“What I was thinking.”

“Ah-ha! So you were thinking!”

Mahdakis took a puff off his Tijuana Small cigar. “It happens.”

“Sometimes.” –Bobble-bobble-bobble. Tony observed Mahdakis’ eyes squinting as he took the thin cigar out of his mouth. They had been together for too many years for Tony not to recognize that he was about to go into one of his lame, self-serving comedy routines. Tony also knew it a signal for him to step into sidekick mode.

Mahdakis said, “Most likely, a long time ago, it was someone whose last name was cocksucker.”

“Someone who lived in a small village…” -Bobble-bobble-bobble

“Marseille, France, perhaps.”

“…or just outside of…”

“…where she was considered a…”

“…or he…”

“…or he was considered a cheat or a liar.”

“Or someone who did the job only half way.”

“Which then of course begs to ask the question, which came first, the cock or the cocksucker?”

“The cock came first. The cock always comes first.”

Dakota broke their routine and said solemnly, “I always thought it was because they tease you by giving you oral until you’re hard and then leave, never finishing you off, or letting you fuck them. And that’s why people hate cocksuckers.”

“Oh.”

“Well sure, then there’s that.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“Mm.”

“Hey, what would life be like if we greeted each other like dogs?”

“We probably wouldn’t French kiss that much.”

“Do dogs give oral?”

“Not to other dogs.”

“So who do they give it to?”

“People.”

“People?”

“Yeah, I seen that in a movie or two once,” said Frank.

“Jesus, what a fuckin’ perv you are, man,” Polly laughed.

“How could you have seen it once if you saw it in two different movies?”

“Maybe it was the same scene.”

“Doesn’t matter. He still would’ve seen it twice.”

“What the fuck kind of movies are you renting, Frank?”

“Regular kinds.”

“Regular, my ass.”

Shake-shake-shake, (Inhale-exhale) “I got shit loads of those kinds of movies, Frank….a lot of cool imports from Germany and whatnot.” (Inhale-exhale) “Grandmas and black dudes, dominate fat chicks with submissive oriental business men, hot teens in locker rooms, gay bikers on acid, famous athletes who worship feet while masturbating, big-titted blondes with horses, midgets who eat shit,” (inhale) “you name it. I’m watching one at home right now called Anal in the Antarctic. It’s about an Eskimo love triangle.” (exhale) “If you ever wanna borrow something, just let me know.”

© 2016 Mark Rogers

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Paradise In Purgatory

(Vol. IV)

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Taking It For Face Value

Black Tom inhaled the joint and lazily looked over at Pock, the owner of a weathered crater face. “So why do they call you Pock? Is that a Texas kind of thing?”

Mahdakis and Tony were silent, eyeballing one another trying to make the best of an uncomfortable moment.

Pock spoke softly, “Nah man, it’s ’cuz a my face and whatnot.” Pock’s hand waved over his face suggestively as his eyes lowered to the ground. “You know?”

“That’s just from bad acne at one point in time. You can cure that you know.”

“Yea, how? Cut his head off?” Tony laughed.

“That wouldn’t be much fun, now would it?” Black Tom got up and walked into the bathroom. When he returned, he was holding a jar in his right hand and was mixing its contents with a wooden spoon, held in his left. “What you need, is to dab just a little of this on your face every morning and at night just before bed. It’ll do miracles.” Black Tom knelt down in front of Pock and was about to poke his face with the pointy end of a feather.

“Hey man, what duh fuck is dat, mane? Ya’ll gone fuckin’ bonkers er sumpin’? Don’t touch me wit dat crap.”

“It’s okay,” Black Tom retreated politely, “it’s just a facial concoction that rejuvenates the skin by going deep into the pours and replenishing any facial blemishes back to their original state. You’ll be a better looking guy in no time, just trust me on this one. There’s nothing in here that you don’t ingest into your body anyway, or nothing that isn’t all natural.”

“Wut duh fuck iz it, ’zactly?”

“It’s two parts strained mud water, one-part chicken blood, with a drop of vanilla extract and a sprinkle of crushed lavender pedals; about a teaspoon or more.”

“Say what?”

“Just grab a handful or two of mud and put it in a colander, spaghetti strainer or whatever, and let the water strain out into a bowl or something; maybe do this overnight because it’s gonna take a long time.”

“Okay. Where do I find sum ’dat chicken blood?”

“Just a fresh chicken from the grocery store will do. You know, before you cook it, reserve the blood in a container of some sort, but don’t let it sit around for more than a week in the fridge, or it’s no good.”

“Fresh chicken; got it.”

“And the pedals you can purchase at any florist of course. But this is the important part.” Black Tom moved in towards Pock’s face, holding the feather like a pen. “You must apply just a little bit with the tip of an authentic ostrich feather, as the ostrich is rich in particular enzymes that disperse from the feather stem when mixed with the other proper ingredients.”

“Enzymes, yeah…I heard ah doze.”

“Then apply the ointment like this.” Black Tom began touching Pock’s face lightly with the tip of the feather, and drew what felt to Pock like, imaginary lines; one under his right eye and then one on his left cheek. “This will go into your skin’s pours directly and sit festering, adding essential vitamins and minerals to the under layers. That’s it. Don’t apply any more than that. The next time you do this however, apply the ointment in two different spots.”

“Which ones?”

“Wherever you like. Just mix it up and don’t go over the same area too often. Then when you’ve done that…” Black Tom turned the feather around and began brushing Pock’s entire face with the feather end, “…give yourself a quick brushing like so. When you give it a brush like this, you are brushing any excess of those vitamins and minerals that may have not gone into your skin and spread them over your face where they won’t do much, but what little they do, will heal, and not go to waste by dripping on the floor.”

“Vitamins and Min’rals…those are good tings.”

“Yes they are, and so are ostrich feathers. That is why it is very, very, very, important that you use an authentic ostrich feather, like so, and not a fake one or any other type of feather. Do you understand?”

“Yeah…authentic.”

“Right, and since they’re hard to find, I’ll give you this one. There’s a little place down in the village here where I can get more.”

“Can you eat ’em too?”

“The feathers?”

“Ostrich. Do you eat ’em?”

“Personally I don’t eat any meat at all unless it’s between a woman’s legs, and even then I’m known to be a bit stingy. But I’ve heard that it is quite a delicacy in other countries.”

“Pussy?”

“No, Ostrich.”

© 2011, 2014 Mark Rogers

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Remember Tomorrow

“The only good thing about today is it’s still young and there’s still hope we will die before it’s over with.”
“That’s the spirit. What do you have against waking up tomorrow, anyway?”
“Tomorrow’s the reason I wanna get it over with today! Tomorrow we have to do this bullshit all over again!”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I am.”
“Oh.”
“Because tomorrow is the day we pay for our wasted yesterday.”
“Which is actually today.”
“Exactly!”
“But it hasn’t been wasted.”
“Not yet. But it will. And all we can pray for is that today–”
“Or yesterday tomorrow.”
“–stops right here before tomorrow settles in.”
“The day after tomorrow, yesterday.”
“Right.” Continue reading

Pasta Affair

After finally securing her right leg to the bedpost with a towel, Tony went to the dresser drawer, pulled out a roll of duct tape, and proceeded to cut off a seven-inch piece, “I’m tired of your mouth, already. Try this, you bitch!”
Tony walked over to the bed where Nicki was screaming, “No! No! No! Don’t! Please, No! I can’t breathe! I’ll hyper ventilate!”
“Too bad, bitch!” Tony quickly applied the tape over her mouth.
Nicki lay on the bed flailing her naked flabby body around; her left leg trying to kick him away, “Mmm! Mmm! Mm-mmmmmm!!”
The smoke alarm started going off, “Shit!” Tony quickly cuffed her left leg to the post, “I forgot about the pasta on the stove. I’ll be back!”
“Mm-mm?” she mumbled as Tony turned and ran downstairs to the smoky kitchen.

Tony returned, holding a large pot of steaming lasagna noodles, which he set down on the dresser, “I hope you like butter,” he said, taking one of the hot noodles out of the pot and dangling it in the air, allowing the hot butter to drip on her naked body.
“MMM-MMM!”
“Yeah, Mm-mm…yummy, right?”
“Mmm!”
“Okay. Okay, I won’t make you wait any longer. Here, take this,” and then Tony thrashed her several times with the hot, wet, buttery lasagna noodle on her torso.
“Mmm!!! Mmm! Mmm!!!!”
“Yeah…mm-mm. You want some more, huh?” Tony walked over to the steaming pot and yanked out another noodle in which to torture her with.
“Hmmm!”
“Yeah…..I know…You got an appetite for sausage too. I haven’t forgotten.” Tony began yanking on his penis while he whipped her with the noodle on her inner thigh and the sides of her ass, butter splashing everywhere upon impact of her body . Nicki tried to scream through the duct tape as he whipped her with more noodles, over and over again; all the while frantically masturbating.

As if all this wasn’t enough for the helpless young woman, she was to be further traumatized when five police officers came crashing through the bedroom door, as she lay on the bed with her glory wide open for all to see, and watched them tackle Tony Ravioli. “FREEZE YOU FUCKER!”
“DOWN ON THE GROUND! GET DOWN!”
“I GOT HIM, JOE. I GOT HIM! CHRIST THIS FUCKER’S HAIRY….YUCK!” the uniformed officer yelled, spitting something out of his mouth.
“GET OFF ME! WHAT THE FUCK’S GOING ON AROUND HERE?”
Officer Roy drew his weapon and pointed it at Tony, “Don’t move. You’re under arrest for kidnapping, sexual assault, stalking, endangerment, vandalism, trespassing, and all kinds of odious charges.”
“WHAT THE FUCK DOES ODIOUS MEAN?”
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you ……”

© 2011, 2014 Mark Rogers

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Easy Meat

Sometimes you can fuck a person every day of the week and never know a thing about them. Other times, you can know everything about a person except what they’re like when they’re getting off.
There’s a reason for this.
If we knew what our best friends were like behind the bedroom door, we wouldn’t be best friends with them anymore, or in the first place.

Fact is, one never knows a person inside and out until they’ve seen how that person’s insides pop out while their outsides are going in. But how can you possibly know you don’t know the person you think you know?
You can’t.
It’s that one little thing that you’ll never know. And it’s most likely for the better. As a case in point, let’s take Mahdakis and Tony; if either one had any inclination of what the other was up to when his pants were off, neither one would have an ounce of respect for the other…..and with damn good reason.

 

He was on his bed, sitting up right with a pillow between his back and the wall. Nicki subserviently, held a joint to his mouth while he inhaled a hit and blew it back out in her face.
“Asshole,” she said playfully. Then she took a hit off the joint herself and as she held it in said, “You wanna fuck before we go to this party, or what?”
“Sure. Why not? You wanna know what I was thinking though?”
“What were you thinking?” she said snuggling close to Tony Ravioli.
“I was thinking of tying you up.”
“Ha-ha…. alright, I’m into that.”
“And spraying white stuff all over your body.”
“I’m into that, too!”
“Fine. Get naked, I’ll be right back.”
As Nicki undressed, Tony made his way downstairs towards the kitchen. When he returned to the bedroom, Nicki lay completely naked on his bed, her chunky body pouring off the sides like pancake batter. Noticing the tray of food in his hand she said, “What are you going to do, eat while you fuck me?”
“Something like that. I got the munchies.”
“Well, I got something you can munch on. You don’t need all that.”
“Fine. Let’s tie your ass up to the bed rails first though.”
Nicki smiled and obliged him. She held her arms up in the air without resistance while he tied bandanas around her wrists and then the other end of the bandanas to either bedpost.
“Oooh, am I supposed to start screaming for help now? Help. Help me,” she laughed.
“Quiet you!”
“Easy! Not so tight. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“There,” he said triumphantly, “now we’re ready to munch on some meat,” he smirked as he got up and turned around to the plate of food he brought up and, with his back facing her said, “What about you? You hungry? Want some meat?”
Not sure what he had in mind, but willing to play along, she said, “Sure lay some meat on me, big boy.”
“I like mayonnaise with mine. You?”
“I like anything white and sticky,” she said, giggling nervously.
“Good,” Tony said, and quickly turned around and began hurling spoonfuls of mayonnaise at her naked torso. “Then you’ll love this, cunt! Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!”
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Cut the shit!!”
Tony threw mayonnaise at her for a minute or so as she struggled to get free from the tight bandanas, her legs flailing in the air. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Get me out of here, Tony! Now!”
“Fuck that! I wanna eat……NOW!” with that, Tony then jumped on top of her and began spreading the mayonnaise on her body with his bare hands, as if he were greasing a watermelon.
“What the….Man, you’re into some bizarre shit, motherfucker,” Nicki said, as she watched him lather her up with Hellman’s. “I hope you plan to lick it all off, now.”
“I’m gonna eat it!”
“Even better, let’s just get this ritual of yours over with. My God, this is some wacked out crap.”
Tony walked across the room and picked up the tray, which had an assortment of cold cuts on it.
“What the hell?” she yelled.
“It’s meat! Here! Have some fucking meat, bitch!” and then began whipping slices of salami, bologna, and ham at her mayonnaise-lathered body.
“Holy shit, man! What the fuck is the matter with you?!! Get me out of here! Help!”
“You said to lay it on you! Well, I’m laying it on you now, cunt!” Tony kept throwing the meat at her, which of course would stick to the mayonnaise if it landed flat enough. Some of it adhering to gravity and peeling itself off her body after a few seconds, but there was so much being thrown at her, that she was covered after only a minute.
She continued yelling, screaming, and tugging at the bandanas, but to no avail. “Anthony, this isn’t funny, or erotic! I’m afraid! Please stop!!”
“I’m afraid too,” he said, standing over by the food tray again; and lifting up his arm, he resumed to his throwing. “I’m afraid I forgot the cheese!!! HA-HA!” But the cheese wasn’t sticking so well because of the fact that her body was already covered with meat product. He needed more adherent. “Here! You need some of this!” he said, running up to her and viciously spraying her entire body with mustard.
“Stop! You fuckin’ dick! Stop!!”
“Ya like Gulden’s? Mmm. I do! It’s spicy! Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Fuckin’ asshole! You’re getting it in my hair! Stop! Stop it, Anthony!! Please!”
After running out of meat and dairy products, he jumped on top of the bed so his knees held her ankles down.”
“Ow! That hurts!”
“Good!”
“Where is this coming from? What the hell did I do?……Shit….. what the fuck?”
Tony had pulled it out of his pants and was proceeding to masturbate on top of her. “Here! This is some of the chef’s special sauce! It makes the entire meal! You’ll love it!”
While very afraid and disturbed by his entire display of madness, Nicki still couldn’t help but let out some hysterical laughter.
“Ah, so you think it’s funny, huh bitch? How funny is this?” and then he ejaculated on the only clean area of her body…….her face. “There!……….Now I’m done.”
“Thank God,” she said, lapping it away from her lips. “And what’s the matter, you too fuckin’ lazy to cut up a little lettuce and tomato?”

 

© 2012 Mark Rogers

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 Crimes Seen

(Book II)

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