Outlet

I’m not getting any and some people are too damn self reliant. So I present to you…

Midwinter Night’s Sleaze

I sighed and closed the internet browser, another slow night for the rectal rangers. It just wasn’t quite the sphincter-clenching good fun it had been in high school. My roommate was out somewhere doing God knows what, or who. I shuffled to my closet to turn on my TV and fell on the bed with a grunt.

But then, suddenly there came a knock on the door. I wondered if I should answer it as it was probably one my roommate’s numerous consorts but the Angel episode showing tonight was a rerun and it promised to be slow going on the trashy romance novella I had been working on. One of my magical realism pet projects and by magical realism I mean of course man-wands and fairy cunts.

I pulled myself up off the bed and scratched my beard, opening the door. And who should I find standing there but an ill-groomed Communist, in his hand a bottle of crystal clear aquar diente. Suddenly what had promised to be a drab night started to look up.

“The little vixen in the triple at the end of the hall would very much like if you came and sampled some of my fine Columbian liquor” said the poorly shaven Marxist, germs no doubt seething underneath the long nails of his unwashed hands. I grunted my ascent but then grabbed a handful of his stained unwashed t-shirt in my fist and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind.

He stood on my cruddy blue-red-purple-gray carpet looking like a forlorn little boy in his plaid undershorts and his bottle still expectantly in his hand. As I delicately took the bottle and placed it on one of the desks, I cupped my hand around the somewhat crusty crotch of those shorts and a wild appetite for his unclean little body suddenly shot fire through my loins.

There was already a hole in the shirt and I stuck two fingers through it and ripped it, listening to the satisfying noise it made as it left my new plaything with nothing but a few shreds of torn fabric draped over his pale hairy paunch and stooped shoulders.

I ran my finger along his collar bone then went to take a sip of his Columbian fire water, offering him the bottle with a gossamer trail of my spittle. As I watched in satisfaction his little pink tip of tongue licked up my saliva before taking a healthy swig of alcohol.

I grabbed his hand and led him to the bed where I sat, as he remained standing in front of me. By then a sizable erection was pushing seam of my pyjamas and I grinned up coyly at the hairy little ape man. I lifted my ass off the bed and wiggled my shorts down to my knees, allowing my erection to unfurl like a banner announcing to my companion my desire for his flesh.

He looked on with some amazement, clearly having never seen a prick as regal and hearty as mine. I gestured to It grandly with one hand and being the succinct type, carefully enunciated the words “blow me.”

To be continued...