Categories
Poetry

unfair world

If only Tom would catch Jerry, diminutive, big mouth,

Rip off the head, masticate the hairy skin, the whiskers, the tail,

The meat, the innards,

Consume it all,

Boil down the bones,

Drink it,

Urinate it,

Shit it out!

We live in an unfair world!

And Tweety, piss-yellow, diminutive, big mouth,

Safe in its cage,

If only Sylvester would catch it,

Rip off the head, masticate the feathery skin, the wings, the tail,

The meat, the innards,

Consume it all,

Boil down the bones,

Drink it,

Urinate it,

Shit it out!

We live in an unfair world!

Nic Haghori

Categories
Short stories

date

          I think red, he said.

          White, she said.

          White I don’t think so, he said.

          Red gives me heart burn, she said.

          Fine white, he said. And bloody fish.

          Jesus Christ, she said. I’ll just have two hard-boiled eggs.

—————— Cut ———————————-

          Did the hard-boiled egg go into the anus and the soft-boiled egg into the vagina? she said.

          I think the hard-boiled egg went into the vagina and the soft-boiled egg into the anus, he said.

           So, Marcelle escapes the sanatorium and hangs herself, she said.

          And Simone and the narrator have wild sex under the seeping corpse, he said.

Paul Kavanagh

Categories
Short stories

AFTERNOON ZENITH

Turned on the TV,

and the TV turned on me.

A dog on the screen appeared. I

sneered at how stupid the dog appeared.

Barked, “Jump, Rover – jump!”

And the dog did, jumped clear out of the TV;

turned on me, how Sodom turned on God;

and you know Sodom turned God on,

all that bored-out butt getting stuffed.

Enough to turn God’s Rod into a sly snake.

The mutt onto my Levi cuff glommed,

the day turning into a circus.

With a fist I cuffed the beast.

Grabbed a stick and beat the dog off.

Let him lick up the mess. Chased him            

back inside the tube. Where he turned

out to be the locomotive for an ad for

Gravy Train. Turned the TV off,

and the TV turned off all three rings of me – left  

on the floor, in the den, bored to death; shot

to hell one more doggone godawful afternoon.    

Willie Smith

Categories
Short stories

The Marquis de Sade for Children

The Marquis de Sade was born on the 2 June 1740. His mother and father named him Donatien Alphonse François de Sade. The Marquis de Sade was born in France and in France, boys and girls are given many names.

France is a country in Europe. Europe is the second smallest continent. Australia is the smallest continent. 

                                                *

The Marquis de Sade’s father and mother were very rich.

The de Sades lived in a very big house. The French word for very big house is château.

When the Marquis de Sade was a boy, he enjoyed horse riding. The Marquis de Sade’s father and mother had many horses, but the Marquis de Sade’s favorite horse was named Justine.

Before Justine became the Marquis de Sade’s favorite horse, Justine was mistreated and abused by a terrible man. He beat and kicked Justine, and made her work very hard and fed her very little food. Justine had a terrible life. The Marquis de Sade’s father and mother saved her and gave her a better life.   

                                                *

As with most French children, the Marquis de Sade enjoyed football. The Marquis de Sade had dreams of becoming a famous football player and playing for Paris Saint-Germain Football Club. 

                                                            *

The Marquis de Sade had a sister. Juliette was younger than the Marquis de Sade and she was very naughty.

Juliette was always getting into trouble. Juliette teased and bullied the Marquis de Sade. Juliette liked to pull her brother’s hair, she liked to put worms into his food, and pour urine into his drinking water.

Juliette smashed the local church’s windows. She stole from the church and vandalized the church pews.

When she was caught, she said the Marquis de Sade had smashed the local church’s windows. She said, he had stolen from the church and vandalized the church pews.

The Marquis de Sade was sent away to boarding school.

Juliette married the Duc de Blangis.

The Duc de Blangis was an aristocrat and very rich. An aristocrat is a part of the Royal Family. A King and Queen ruled France. 

Juliette stopped being naughty and lived with the Duc de Blangis in a château in the country.

The Marquis de Sade was very happy that his sister had married and stopped being naughty. They wrote letters and became the best of friends.

                                                *

Boarding school was lots of fun and the Marquis de Sade went home for the holidays. He read the writings of the philosopher Immanuel Kant. He also enjoyed the poetry of John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester.

                                                            *

After boarding school, the Marquis de Sade went to work in an office in Paris. Paris is the capital of France.

The Marquis de Sade went to work for a judge, the Président de Curval.

The Marquis de Sade worked hard and studied the law. When the Marquis de Sade was not working hard and studying the law, he enjoyed going to the theaters. He enjoyed coffee and croissants in cafés and restaurants. Paris is famous for its cafés and restaurants.

                                                            *

The Marquis de Sade believed in Freedom of Speech. The King and Queen of France banned Freedom of Speech. Tyrants always ban Freedom of Speech. Only in Democracies is there Freedom of Speech. Democracies are built upon the freedom of speech. Freedom of Speech allows a country and its people the benefits of Capitalism. Production, distribution, and exchange of wealth, these are very important.   

The Marquis de Sade wrote a story about Gilles de Rais and Elizabeth Báthory. It was a very naughty story.

 The King and Queen of France did not like the story, and so the Marquis de Sade was sent to the Bastille. The Bastille was a famous prison in Paris.

                                                *

The people of France won Democracy and the freedom of speech. Men and women were now free to write naughty stories.

The King and Queen of France lost their heads.

The Marquis de Sade was freed from the Bastille. The people of France pulled down the Bastille. They built beautiful houses with the bricks. Paris became the home for many writers.

 The Marquis de Sade wrote many books and grew very fat.

K. Lawrence

Categories
Short stories

Bugman

“It’s a problem,” says the bugman, “but I can solve it.”  He leans over the marble countertop and takes a closer inspection of the problem. The problem recoils. “Do you leave your windows open all night?” We shake our heads. The bugman tuts loudly. “You must have left the back door open and it sneaked in. You would be amazed how fast they can be.” The bugman swabs his brow and then pokes the problem.  It remains steadfast and taciturn. Next, he shows us his equipment. The bugman is proud of his equipment.  “This stuff was designed to kill terrorists.” (I think the bugman is exaggerating.) “It’s the best on the market.” (I believe him.) “It never fails. Made by the Government.” (I could laugh.) “They pop like popcorn.” My wife claps her hands and cheers. The problem moans. “Did you hear that?” says the bugman. “They’re obsequious and sycophantic. You could keep it as a pet.”  “No,” I say. The wife would, I know her, she would. “No,” I reiterate. “Too expensive, too much trouble,” says the bugman, “I understand.”  I nod. The problem in the cupboard moans, almost too theatrically. I need a drink. The glasses are above the problem. I point. It reaches up. “To the left,” I say.  It hands me a glass. I go to the sink and pour water into the glass. The bugman starts to whistle. The problem groans. I go into the front room. I can’t watch. I sit on the sofa and turn on television. My wife joins me. I turn up the volume and then we hold hands. The news is on, the economy is booming. I sip the water. The old man in the kitchen, wedged in the cupboard, of his own choosing, screams and screams.

Paul Kavanagh

Categories
Short stories

Ass

He’s gone too far she says, the world is in ruin and he’s away she says. I listen. Crying she collapses on the sofa. His head’s u. She stops wipes away tears and swears. I make coffee. She tells me about his plans and how he’s forsaken all the plans. I drink the coffee and listen. He’s so stubborn she says, the world is in ruin and he’s so far up his. She pauses and sips the coffee. I want to know more. She tells me. I ask her how. She tells me. Nothing is left to the imagination. I listen. Make more coffee. what do you think about that she says and I try to tell her but she stops me. I leave for home. It rains. I enter the house. My wife tries to talk to me but I ignore her. I lock myself in the small room. The spare room. Too small to be used. A room without windows but with a door that could be called a window that locks from the inside not the outside. I undress. I admire myself. I find a wart and a boil and a scar, no, two scars, three scars. The third scar being the product of the mugging. Not a mugging. I had nothing to mug. Just a beating. Two fascists. They laughed and beat me.  I sit down on the cold wooden floor and collect the left foot in the left hand and then the right hand collects the right foot. The right foot looks a lot like the left foot. They are twins. Oh, wait. No. The right foot is swollen. A car ran over it the other day. The driver called me a cunt and told me to get out of the way. My poor right foot. But still the right foot and the left foot are yes brother and sister. I run the eyes up and down the left leg. I do the same with the right leg. I touch the left knee. I do the same with the right knee. They feel the same. But they are not the same. The right has a scab. I remove part of the scab. I stop and remember why I am here. She said he achieved the desired position rather quickly. I can’t help myself. I am conceited. I pluck a hair from the left leg. Pain. I do the same to the right leg. The same pain. I am confused. I think about using the telephone and asking her for guidance. I don’t need her I tell myself.  I stand. I hold the scrotum in the left hand. I weigh the scrotum in the left hand. I release the scrotum. I hold the scrotum in the right hand. I weigh the scrotum in right hand. The scrotum weighs the same I compute.  I am illiterate at math. My mind says fourxfour is three hundred and five. It feels the same in the left hand and in the right hand. I am possessed with ambidexterity. I have always known this about I. This was not something new. That the scrotum weighs hardly anything is new to me. I always thought the scrotum would weigh the amount of a thousand bastards. Only twice have I achieved the act of bastardizing bastards. I will not talk of past loves. With the right hand I squeeze the scrotum until I cough. I find this very funny. I laugh. I hardly laugh. I release the scrotum and cup the scrotum with the left hand. I squeeze. It feels the same. I squeeze until I cough. I release the scrotum and laugh. The penis is uncircumcised. I pull back the foreskin with the left hand until it looks circumcised. The foreskin rolls back. I feel warmth within. I hold the penis in the right hand, tightly. Uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised. I enjoy this game. Uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised uncircumcised circumcised.  The penis is erect. A faint smell attracts the nose. I inhale the smell. I can smell I. I release the hard penis. I watch it wither. I balance the withered penis in the palm of the left hand. I have the urge to urinate. I think about urinating. A bead of piss appears like magic like the dove the rabbit the woman cut in half. I remove the left hand. The penis flops against the scrotum. The bead falls. It splashes on the right foot. The dreaded right foot. I will not piss. I will allow the bladder to bloat and impinge upon the thoughts. Thoughts. Fears more like. I hear her voice. She is shouting. He is a coward. He is vain. He only thinks of himself. I need to shit.  A fart informs me of this need. I turn the body and inhale the fart. For breakfast I had poached eggs. . I straighten the back. With the left hand I rub the right nipple. The scrotum tightens. With the right hand I rub the left nipple. The scrotum tightens. The penis stirs. With the right hand and with the left hand I rub the supernumerary nipple. Glandular tissue: yes. Nipple: yes. Areola fat tissue: yes. Hair patch: no. I have no hair on the chest. I have hair on the head, above the eyes, in the ears, between the nose, on the top lip, under the arms, in the armpit, on the arms, on the legs, around and on the scrotum, in and around the anus. The scrotum tightens. The penis stirs. I stop rubbing the supernumerary nipple with the right hand and with the left hand. The scrotum releases. The penis withers once more. I lift up the right arm above the head. I ran the left hand across the chest and slip it under the right armpit. I hold it there for three seconds: one two three. I remove the left hand and bring it down the right arm. I hold the left hand under the nose. I inhale. Why I am I doing? I final goodbye. You’re just like him she said. I agreed. You’re not she said. I nodded. I knew she said, you’re all the same she said. No I said. She laughed. A mocking laugh. I left. I had a plan. My wife wanted to know where I had been and I shrugged and ascended the stairs to the sound of my wife begging me to return. I open the mouth and stick out the tongue. I drag the tongue across the left hand. The left hand tastes of salt. I lift up the left arm above the head. I run the right hand across the chest and slip it under the left armpit. I hold it there for three seconds: one two three. I remove the right hand and bring it down the left arm. I hold the right hand under the nose. I inhale. The right hand smells of sweat. A foul reek. I open the mouth and stick out the tongue. I drag the tongue across the right hand. The right hand tastes of salt. I open the mouth and place the right hand into the mouth. I bite down on the right hand until the pain is too much. I release the right hand. I close the mouth and look at the bite marks on the right hand. The mouth is filled with vile spit. I collect the vile spit in the mouth into a ball of sorts and I spit. There’s a knock on the door. Come out says my wife, I need to see you says my wife. They have been talking. There something in the knocking, in the voice. I walk over to the wall where the ball of spit landed. I turn around and press the back against the wall. I feel the spit. It is cold but still wet. With the help of the lubrication, I slip down the wall. I open the legs and bring up the knees. I press vigorously into the wall with the back. The head I force down between the rising knees.  I open the mouth. The open lips go around the flaccid penis. The flaccid penis enters my mouth. I can taste urine. Empiricism stops me from biting the flaccid penis. I suck. I feel warmth within. The penis hardens. I suck. The penis grows down the throat. I choke. I fight for air. My wife bangs on the door. Come out she shouts, you stubborn bastard she shouts. I release the hard penis. I choke. Cough. Retch. What an awful thing to do. Awful. And the hard penis is covered in spit. Disgusting. Still, I feel warmth within. I see behind the eyes and in between the ears the last fuck I fucked. Beads of sweat are congregating on the brow, behind the ears, between the nose, on top lip, in the armpits, the area between the scrotum and anus, around the anus. With the left forefinger I touch the anus. I push the left forefinger through the sphincters. Open the door she shouts. I push the left forefinger through the sphincters. Police sirens fill the air.  I feel strangely good and warm within. My scrotum tightens. My penis stirs, again. My dear penis. The air around me is permeated with the smell of the shit. The smell does not remind me of the poached eggs I had for breakfast. I rub the right hand over the body and collect the beads of sweat. I spit on the right hand. The right hand is dripping in sweat and spit. It is warm. I force the right hand up into the anus. I can feel the tips of the fingers opening up the intestines.  The right arm is all the way up into the anus and is followed almost by the right shoulder. Come out she shouts. I pull out the shoulder, the right arm and while the anus is gaping, I achieve the unachievable. I inhale robustly and the head is sucked up into the anus. Ah, yes.

Larry Caomhánach

Categories
Short stories

PROG BOB

Bob bobs Patrick and Patrick stabs Steven and Steven fucks Sara and Sara swallows Dan and Dan kicks Peter and Peter anal fucks John and John rims Helen and Helen finger fucks Paris and Paris fists Tony and Judy and Tony and Judy spitroast Carl and Carl beheads Richard and Henry and Richard and Henry molest Tom and Carl and Bob and Tom and Carl and Tom molest Sara and Tracy and Helen and Mary and Sara and Helen and Mary fuck John and Peter and Saul and Mark and Henry and Richard and George and Boris and John and Peter and Saul and Mark and Henry and Richard and George and Boris laugh at nailed to the cross Jesus and Jesus (hay-SOOS) sells drugs to Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed and Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed mock the cripple Ian and the cripple Ian dreams of raping God and God (concrete and powerless) dreams of raping Sara and Sara fucks Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed and Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed all die of AIDS and AIDS dances a jig with Superman (the stinky cock!) and with Superman (the stinky cock!) smears his gaping arsehole with Vaseline peppered with  kryptonite and demands that Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed and Richard and Mark and Tom and Chris and Michael and Steve and Gareth and Ashley and David and Clive and Aubrey and David and Richard and Shelia and Hannah and Annelise and Lloyd and Bair and Ian and Paul and John and Mike and Chris and John and Paul and Jill and Don and Andy and Ranjit and Jon and Claire and Jon and Kirsten and Jonathan and Ray and Colin and Bennie and Daniel and Steven and Berry and David and Tony and Katrin and Jay and Steven and Paul and Jaswant and Simon and Andrea and Christine and Ken and Sue and Carol and Jason and Boddy and Joanne and Nancy and John and Jean-Marie and Dave and Mark and Ahmed pound the gaping arsehole smeared with Vaseline peppered with  kryptonite and the gaping seared arsehole smeared with Vaseline peppered with  kryptonite whistles a baroque tune while Bob bobs

ROBERT ZYALIFOUX 

Categories
Poetry

JOE’S ANUS

                       For The Reader’s Digest

Hi, I’m Joe’s anus.

I like to talk, but Joe doesn’t very often let me.

My idea of a good sandwich

is liverwurst on white bread

with a side order of onion rings.

I turn my nose up at vegetarians.

I only have one eye and I

constantly concentrate on keeping

it trained on my inner self.

I don’t know anything about art,

but I do like Norman Rockwell.

If I had one wish

I would be Treasurer of the United States,

or maybe Bert Parks.

My favorite sport is baseball.

I thrill to the crack of the bat

and the towering blast exploded over

the centerfield wall

and into the mezzanine

where old drunks get their pockets picked

by truant schoolboys.

Like that of the housewife, my work

is never done. I have never slept a wink

in my entire life, and yet,

I am certain I have a firm grip

on what dreams are.

Willie Smith

Categories
Short stories

family (innit)

Jenny stabs John in the arm with the knife that was supposed to have cut through the rojak salad with avocado (the brother and sister are still in the abeyance of a feral affair which has been swirling inertly for twenty months an affair that allows John to play Aunt Elizabeth the cripple and Jenny to play bare-knuckle boxer bone crusher Seth Seddon.  Aunt Elizabeth the cripple (a real aunt) and bare-knuckle boxer bone crusher Seth Seddon have a proclivity for hard drugs during their S&M sojourns. Or “sojruns” hahahahaha bare-knuckle boxer bone crusher Seth Seddon to Aunt Elizabeth the cripple with a tattooed fist lodged in a smarting leaking anus. The pain dulled with miasmic (fetid) euphoria. And there is more, the sister and brother during ah but who cares I don’t) and bacon bits covered with balsamic and lemon drippings. Seeing (cavernous mouth & bad teeth & mushy spit) and hearing (deafening & mocking) Ben laughing at John bleeding from the arm still with the knife deep in the arm that was supposed to have cut through the rojak salad with avocado and bacon bits covered with balsamic and lemon drippings Mark (Ben’s brother) picks up a corkscrew, but decides not today, there are still many bottles of wine to be opened, so instead, places the corkscrew in vicinity of the unopened wine bottles (maybe twenty four) and picks up a cold poker, the fire has yet to be lit, it is summer time, nights do get cold here in the mountains, and hits Ben over the head with the cold poker (the brothers until recently were the best of friends. The best! I mean they called themselves the “Siamese Shaggers.” They spitroasted boys and girls. They never copulated alone. It was forbidden. Mark was blown by Ben’s Wife and Ben was blown by Mark’s Wife. Oh, they were doppelganger fuckers! Tradition they called it. They were twins afterall.  But when Father expired and left all of his money to ah but who cares I don’t) and blood sprays Ben’s wife Lucy and so Lucy jumps up and lands on the back of Mark and digs her nails into his face (Lucy (a council crumpet) survived life on a council estate in an ambience of alcohol & wife beating & thievery & other kinds of lowlife stuff. Lucy has fit as a ah but who cares I don’t) seeing the nails removing skin and extracting blood from the face of Mark while he is screaming “Get her off me the cunt”, May, Mark’s wife, May grabs Mother’s favourite vase and smashes it over Lucy’s head (the vase was stolen maybe traded for opium during the Qing dynasty by a Captain in the Marines by the name of Captain Patrick Bur ah but who cares I don’t) and Lucy falls down dead, well, not dead, but looking dead, Oh if only ( she has a few tales to tell about me ah but who cares I don’t) and so Mark, screaming and swearing, bleeding and smarting from the face, tells all about Jenny and me joining a cult (we are both members of a church that is getting ready for the apocalypse ah but who cares I don’t) now shocked the whole family gets in on the fight over other secrets, many secrets, too many secrets, and I turn to Jenny and say “I told you so” and Jenny turns to me and quotes Tolstoy (clever bitch showing off) and then “it started off so well” and we laugh & drink wine & watch the fighting and then suddenly the door opens and ah but who cares I don’t.  

Joel Woodward

Categories
Short stories

C***** Orgy

Sue is supplying the venue. Sue thinks “The bed is clean the sheets are clean I have bleached everything good job girl and citrus candles yes I think citrus kills oh girl stop good idea lots of citrus candles and the room has to be the right temperature not too hot could get overly sweaty and most definitely not too cold poor Ben hahaha    naughty ah      what music should I play    I don’t want to   oh   stop    think   relax oh I have missed Ben.” Ben on the telephone said he would bring the prophylactics and the lubrication. Ben thinks “I understand why the prophylactics I am a modern man should I have mentioned no but why the lubrication for two an unloving couple I understand it but for three I mean kissing and tongues spit and juices the one I saw last night was really messy I mean they were slipping and sliding in gob and all that wet sticky stuff just get it and shut up don’t ruin it     it’s going to take me all day just to queue up and get a box of oh Christ I need to shower.”  Jenny is bringing the wine and food. Jenny thinks “I can’t go with Italian I don’t want to be bloated and I don’t want Sue to be bloated and I don’t want Ben to feel uncomfortable and not eat I would feel awful truly awful if he ran out of steam half way through it that would be a cat-cat-apocalypse oh Christ I am so scared should we wear mas-mas-mas oh what about Chinese maybe Sushi no raw fish   leakage what about chicken yes I like that and the wine oh yes    been a week   good girl they say two oh to hell with them I need my wine.” Ben phones for a lift even though it is only five fifteen.

Sue puts on stockings and then a garter belt and then crotchless panties and then the expensive ordered on line nipple exposing bra.  In a drawer she examines – organized fastidiously – dildos and anal plugs and penis rings and other wonderful, time-stretching and space-eradicating paraphernalia. Sue thinks “It’s finally going to happen     a month in the planning     and now it’s finally going to happen thank you    I hope they are going to love these    I am     oh yes   this is huge    will it fit?  the girth hummm I feel rather sexy     go to the mirror and look    yes     you look sexy     years    oh I’m so  wet.” The doorbell rings. Sue answers the door and says Hello. Jenny is red in the face and blowing – thankfully masked!  Sue takes the bag from Jenny’s laced hands and says All these do we really need all these? Jenny following says I need a glass now and there’s no way I’m leaving the apartment once we’ve started. Sue tuts but regrets the tut. Following Sue – wagging that bum – Jenny thinks “Sue smells nice      that dress wow and she is    she is wearing     she is     she is     I bet she did       I didn’t     I should    you should have        I couldn’t be bothered     I did take a shower       but     you have been sweating carrying all that    for them     chicken  sweating take it off  I will  you have been very careful   I should have picked up Chinese    I should have     she looks amazing    and              she smells wonderful    I can smell    I hope I can taste    and        I know she is wearing         and            I know she shaved       yes       Ben said he liked it shaved   and     I’m    oh    no     I need a glass of wine    oh this is a nightmare    and a cigarette    look at the high heels   Ben is going to love her tonight    what time is it    maybe I could.” The doorbell rings. While Jenny is pouring wine, Sue opens the door. Ben, smiling from ear to ear seeing Sue, waits. Hesitates. Points? Sue nods. Ben removes. Sue says You can kiss me if you want to. Ben smiling refrains and enters the apartment. They enter the kitchen.  Jenny thinks “Slow down     have they kissed yet?”   Sue thinks “That was a strange encounter     I mean     I know   He looks fine   he’s going be kissing me everywhere     soon                everywhere      I hope.” Ben takes a glass of white and thinks “God I nearly came then   that would have been bad   oh no   this is going to ruin me    ruin me.”  Sue tries the rosé. Jenny says Chicken.

Now hermitically sealed or hermetically sealed on the bed Ben comes after two pumps. Sue and Jenny are very upset with Ben. Ben says It is these things I hate them. Sue looks at Jenny and Jenny nods her head and so Sue says Well we’ve broken no rules so let’s party! Sue rides Jenny’s face and almost suffocates Jenny. Ben slips out of Jenny and slips into Sue and Sue gets a shock when she discovers that Ben has been fucking Jenny in the anus and now Sue’s mouth is full of shit. Jenny makes Sue squirt and Ben catches the wobbling balloon of Sue’s squirt in his open mouth. Sue and Jenny clap and Ben pirouettes. There is a belly rumble. Sue confesses. Ben fucks Jenny. Sue in the cold leaves, hungry. Ben and Jenny swap Sue’s squirt and Ben’s seed. Jenny returns. Sue decides to bake a cake for the celebration in the morning. Jenny screams Fuck my twat    pound my twat      hammer my twat. Ben screams Call me Paula I want to be called Paula.  Jenny looks up and sees not Paula but Richard and Harry and Tony waiting for her and James deep inside of her. Ben says I promised them after I missed the penalty that they could come over. Sue needs eggs. Richard and Harry and Tony and James play musical orifice. Paula hums a mellifluous tune with one eye open slightly. She walks to the store. Jenny is coming Yes     yes    fuck me   don’t you dare stop Paula you bi-bi-bastard    fill every hole   who are you? The man in the opened mackintosh says I was here to drop of Watchtower. Sue after picking up the eggs realizes she is standing in a long queue – the correct spacing – dressed only in the stockings and the loose garter belt and the crotchless panties and that expensive bought on line nipple exposing bra. Ben is spent and so smokes a cigarette with Alan and Carl and a girl whom refuses to give her name.  Jenny in the throes of ecstasy with two Irish window cleaners says Ben light me a cigarette. Sue in the back of a police car says I’m missing a three some you know. Please don’t talk and cover your mouth with this, says a policeman.  The bedroom door swings open and the neighbors from downstairs have come to complain but seeing Ben and the boys and Jenny and the girl with no name undress and join in on the bed. The headboard banging the bedroom wall has summoned the neighbors from upstairs who have showed up to complain but seeing the orgy in full swing decide to disrobe and join in on the fun on the bed, on the floor. Sue is placed in a cell. The telephone rings. Jenny is too busy to answer the telephone. Larry, Tim, Peter, Saul, William, Carl, Lee, Jake, Richard, Sam, Eliot, Macy, Lucy, Jane, Mary, Jean, Elizabeth, May, Wendy, Lilly, Fanny and Viv have formed a daisy chain and are dancing throughout the apartment.  Ben between licking Alan’s tip says Hello          Oh        what        yes    she lives here     yes     thank you       goodbye.” Jenny and Ben leave the orgy and go watch the television and wait for Sue.  Three policemen take turns to touch and masturbate over a coquettish Sue showing off her yoga. Jenny and Ben seeing that there is nothing watchable on the television  – news news news numbers numbers numbers – decide to return to the orgy. The policemen are thankful and offer to take Sue home in a police car. Sue is beaming with civic pride. Paula takes her first penis. Jenny removes the purple ring with the aid of two vaginas. Sue appears and is excitedly sexed and tells the orgy about the three randy policemen – front liners at least – and their truncheons. While being spitroasted by upstairs and downstairs Ben feels rain for the first time in three months. Sue and Jenny and Ben liquified and fatigued and alone decide to form a triangle and come one last time.  Sue bored but getting a second wind produces handcuffs. Jenny has rope. Ben acquiesces. Ben thinks “Lie back    relax   and allow it to happen one last    oh that hurts.”  Sue fastens the hands at the effete wrists. Jenny works on the feet at the flaccid ankles. Sue lights candles. Long thin and BLACK. Jenny washes Ben’s body with perfumed waters. Sue places flowers around Ben’s head. Sue chants. Jenny repeats.  Ben has fallen into Sue and Jenny’s trap and finds to his displease or pleasure that the bed is really an alter and that the dildo in Sue’s hand is really a big knife. Ben nods. Sue Lifts the big knife heavenward. Jenny holds a golden vessel that will collect Ben’s beating heart. Sue and Jenny sing softly a sacrificial hymn.  Ben says I am the lamb & I die for your deliverance! 

Paul Kavanagh