1.
Have you ever seen someone so beautiful
That you wanted to die?
I could look at you forever and find
Something new every minute
That I’ve loved all the time.
2.
I was going to write you
A love song,
But then I remembered
You don’t love me back,
So I threw the paper away
And typed this instead.
3.
You won't remember my kiss
because you were asleep,
dreaming
of someone else
and not me.
But that's okay-
I dream too,
though
I don't mind admitting
it's just about you.
4.
If I went away
you could play
much better.
But that's assuming
you even care
one way or the other.
Danny lay across Mark's bed, his extra-small, blank, white T-shirt halfway up his hairless belly, his tight, low-slung black jeans slung lower with making himself comfortable, a ruffle of green boxers edging out above his belt. Mark watched him as he read his work, his eyes slipping underneath the looseleaf pages and down the boy's fatless length to the knot on the left side of his zipper, which mirrored his own, if a bit larger.
"Wow, you really must have loved...her?"
"Her?" Mark grinned until he saw a smile spread across Danny's face. "Yes, I was very much in love. Still am."
"Aww, that's sweet-"
"It's hell-"
"Yeah." Danny laid the sheets of paper between them on the New York Giants-clad comforter, then turned on his side toward Mark, his shaggy head resting on his hand.
"Because when I fall for somebody, I fall quickly and I fall hard and it's difficult for me to get back up-" Mark turned onto his side to face his friend, his poetry crumpling under him. "Do you know what I mean?"
Danny nodded. Then looked to Mark's lips. Then his neck. And his black T-shirt and white jeans. And back up. "I like that choker." He put a finger to it, pressing it into Mark's collarbone. "Is that real bone?"
"It's human teeth-"
Danny laughed.
Mark grabbed the inverted cross that hung from Danny's gold necklace. "This is pretty cool-"
Danny laughed again, going quiet as his eyes locked onto Mark's glaring irises.
Mark tightened his grasp on the cross. "You look so much like him-"
"I'm not him-"
"Good-" And he pulled Danny's face to his, their hungry lips crashing softly together.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
The New Kid
"So you are from California?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Cedarville must be a bit of a culture shock for you then?"
"It's...different."
Mrs. Wright laughed. "Okay, today, we are working on our creative writing projects. I am going to need you to pair up with someone-"
"He can be my partner," said Mark, his hand raised.
A few giggles and a couple laughs came from the other 30 students in the room.
"What?" Mark looked around the room, grinning. "Just because I'll die for my art?" He shrugged.
"All right, Mark," sighed Mrs. Wright, laughing. She looked to her new student. "Mark is your partner. He will show you what we are doing. We just started this project a month ago and they are not due for another 8 and a half weeks, so you will have enough time. Especially with Mr. Dennison's guidance-"
The class' giggling was replaced by the scratching of desks and sneakers on the hardwood floor. Mark watched as the skinniest kid he'd ever seen approached him, 3 or 4 books gathered in one arm, his other hand brushing a thick swath of shaggy blackened hair out of eyes so green they looked as if someone had soaked them in a melted crayon. He put out his hand.
"I'm Danny."
"I'm Mark. Poet, provocateur, superstar-"
"I can tell." Danny laughed, flashing a set of perfect white teeth, the canines the same length as the rest, and a pair of dimples so deep they seemed to meet somewhere in the middle of his mouth. "Mrs. Wright seems nice-"
"She is. Very nice." Mark brought his voice down to a whisper and locked his eyes on to Danny's, whose didn't waver. "Be nice to her. Her son committed suicide-"
"Oh, shit-"
"Yeah, and what's worse is he killed his little brother first-"
"Holy fuck-"
"I know. And some people say he raped his dead body-"
"What the-"
"Shhh." Mark looked around. "Just be careful what you say around her. And me too. Maury was my best friend." Mark forced his eyes to swell with impending tears that would never come.
"Dude, I'm sorry-"
Mark shook his head. "It's okay. It's just that we never saw it coming, you know-"
"I understand-"
"Cool." Mark sucked in a gigantic portion of the room's air and let it out in a sigh. "So, we've got a project here-"
"Creative writing?"
"Well-" Mark stopped, staring into Danny's eyes for another 15 seconds. "You know what? You look so much like this friend of mine that I used to have, I feel like I'm talking to him from beyond the grave-"
"Maury?"
"No. Daniel. He was my best friend-"
"How'd he die?"
"He fell asleep smoking a cigarette, with his girlfriend beside him-"
"Wow-"
"Yeah, I know." Mark put up a hand. "Okay, enough morbidity. Here's the project: submit a rough draft of a short story or a novel in progress up to ten thousand words in length by the end of April. You can work on it as much as you want, of course, but we meet twice a week here in school to go over our work with each other to get feedback and criticism and whatnot. Mrs. Wright is going to submit the five best to agents and publishers in New York and see what happens. Also, she is putting together a literary mag for the school that will feature the 20 best entries in all her classes."
"That's cool. So what are you doing, a short story or a novel?"
"Neither. I'm working on a poetry collection-"
"Huh?"
"Dude," Mark grinned as he continued looking into Danny's eyes, which hadn't moved from his or blinked in the last 30 minutes, "I don't ever fucking do what I'm told."
Danny smiled, his dimples kissing his tongue. "I like you-"
"I like you too-"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Cedarville must be a bit of a culture shock for you then?"
"It's...different."
Mrs. Wright laughed. "Okay, today, we are working on our creative writing projects. I am going to need you to pair up with someone-"
"He can be my partner," said Mark, his hand raised.
A few giggles and a couple laughs came from the other 30 students in the room.
"What?" Mark looked around the room, grinning. "Just because I'll die for my art?" He shrugged.
"All right, Mark," sighed Mrs. Wright, laughing. She looked to her new student. "Mark is your partner. He will show you what we are doing. We just started this project a month ago and they are not due for another 8 and a half weeks, so you will have enough time. Especially with Mr. Dennison's guidance-"
The class' giggling was replaced by the scratching of desks and sneakers on the hardwood floor. Mark watched as the skinniest kid he'd ever seen approached him, 3 or 4 books gathered in one arm, his other hand brushing a thick swath of shaggy blackened hair out of eyes so green they looked as if someone had soaked them in a melted crayon. He put out his hand.
"I'm Danny."
"I'm Mark. Poet, provocateur, superstar-"
"I can tell." Danny laughed, flashing a set of perfect white teeth, the canines the same length as the rest, and a pair of dimples so deep they seemed to meet somewhere in the middle of his mouth. "Mrs. Wright seems nice-"
"She is. Very nice." Mark brought his voice down to a whisper and locked his eyes on to Danny's, whose didn't waver. "Be nice to her. Her son committed suicide-"
"Oh, shit-"
"Yeah, and what's worse is he killed his little brother first-"
"Holy fuck-"
"I know. And some people say he raped his dead body-"
"What the-"
"Shhh." Mark looked around. "Just be careful what you say around her. And me too. Maury was my best friend." Mark forced his eyes to swell with impending tears that would never come.
"Dude, I'm sorry-"
Mark shook his head. "It's okay. It's just that we never saw it coming, you know-"
"I understand-"
"Cool." Mark sucked in a gigantic portion of the room's air and let it out in a sigh. "So, we've got a project here-"
"Creative writing?"
"Well-" Mark stopped, staring into Danny's eyes for another 15 seconds. "You know what? You look so much like this friend of mine that I used to have, I feel like I'm talking to him from beyond the grave-"
"Maury?"
"No. Daniel. He was my best friend-"
"How'd he die?"
"He fell asleep smoking a cigarette, with his girlfriend beside him-"
"Wow-"
"Yeah, I know." Mark put up a hand. "Okay, enough morbidity. Here's the project: submit a rough draft of a short story or a novel in progress up to ten thousand words in length by the end of April. You can work on it as much as you want, of course, but we meet twice a week here in school to go over our work with each other to get feedback and criticism and whatnot. Mrs. Wright is going to submit the five best to agents and publishers in New York and see what happens. Also, she is putting together a literary mag for the school that will feature the 20 best entries in all her classes."
"That's cool. So what are you doing, a short story or a novel?"
"Neither. I'm working on a poetry collection-"
"Huh?"
"Dude," Mark grinned as he continued looking into Danny's eyes, which hadn't moved from his or blinked in the last 30 minutes, "I don't ever fucking do what I'm told."
Danny smiled, his dimples kissing his tongue. "I like you-"
"I like you too-"
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Leader of the Pack
Mark, his body white from lack of sun, lay back on the chilled metal table, his arms stretched out to his sides, his ankles crossed.
"Fuck me like Jesus Christ," he said.
A chorus that included several "Woo Hoo's" and one "Fuck the shit out of that white boy" went up from the 20 black guys, aged anywhere from 15 to 25, standing against the wall of the science lab, which they had easily slipped into with a key from one of the gang's fathers, Cedarville's best science teacher and winner of the county's "Teacher of the Year" award three years running.
Delonte, at the far end, stepped up to the table and grabbed Mark's ankles, sliding his lean, vascular body towards him until his ass was at the table's edge. He spread Mark's legs and pushed them back until Mark's knees pressed comfortably against his collarbone. "Hold your legs back, bitch," he commanded and Mark did as he was told with a giggle. Delonte grabbed an open 40oz from one of his crew and tipped it over Mark's genitals, the frothy beer soaking Mark's hard-on and tightened scrotum, then his asshole, which he puckered in and out to sip the warm brew.
Delonte pushed his baggy jeans down to his feet without unbuckling or unsnapping them, revealing the largest penis Mark had ever seen, a long, knotty, two-toned affair that looked like a branch broken from an old, burnt oak rather than a man's dick. The black man spit in his hand and stroked his cock until it was even more erect, his pre-ejaculate mixing with his saliva, the veins along his penis glistening and as thick as fingers-
"Fuck me with that little dick of yours," said Mark.
And Delonte obliged, stepping up and pushing his massive meat into Mark's waiting hole, burying it to the base in one stroke, Mark's anus ripping bloody to accept it, his unheld breath allowing him to experience the pleasure in the pain....
Then a bump bump bump the table's legs squealing Mark's body jolting with Delonte's cumming cock he exits with a plop another steps up smaller more forceful in out in out Delonte running around the side measuring up to Mark's lips for a cleaning stuffing it into his esophagus his shriveled balls cushioning into Mark's nose the scent of iron chlorine shit the taste of his ass like heaven a few ropes more of the extra-large cock's cum splashing his vocal chords before being withdrawn replaced by the dick that just showered his rectum replaced by a smaller dick and on and on until the break of dawn heart pummping rhythms to his ears breaths quick short through his nose passing the pipe hittin' the rock a cerebral orgasm Glock round chambered cocked piercing the hole then there were two Mark gets up his ass mashing slipping through the puddle of fuck blood a warm forty 18 Cedarville Niggers' after-cum saliva the last two lay on the table at opposite ends their legs intertwined their crotches mashed their 8 and a half inchers the smallest held together by a generous hand Mark jumps onto the table squats on both of them rocking back forth back forth massaging his prostate with 17 inches his four-incher hard with the cum about to shoot over his shoulder Donte steps up mashes lips with him their lips don't feel any bigger when you kiss them no matter what they look like the two are finished Mark rolls over pulls his legs back "Eat my ass so I can cum" Donte's knees hit the tiled floor tongue out meshing with Mark's asshole Mark jerking his little dick wet with pre-cum ejaculates his eyes closed torso stiff the sound of his cum hitting just under his ear tinny bip bip bip his hole opens the cum of 20 of Cedarville's finest niggers smothering Donte's face "Woo Hoo, good times" "Huzzah!" "Look at dat shit" "Donte's a white boy" Hahahahahahahahahahaha
Mark grabbed a towel and put it to his asshole, soaking up the damage wrought by his fellow gang members. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his other hand and watched as they put on their clothes. Donte came over to him, his face finally clean, and slipped his baseball cap onto Mark's head.
"Get dressed, you crazy son of a bitch," he said.
Mark laughed as the rest of the guys turned around to look at him. He put his hands in the air and shrugged.
"Is that all you niggers got?" he said.
"Fuck me like Jesus Christ," he said.
A chorus that included several "Woo Hoo's" and one "Fuck the shit out of that white boy" went up from the 20 black guys, aged anywhere from 15 to 25, standing against the wall of the science lab, which they had easily slipped into with a key from one of the gang's fathers, Cedarville's best science teacher and winner of the county's "Teacher of the Year" award three years running.
Delonte, at the far end, stepped up to the table and grabbed Mark's ankles, sliding his lean, vascular body towards him until his ass was at the table's edge. He spread Mark's legs and pushed them back until Mark's knees pressed comfortably against his collarbone. "Hold your legs back, bitch," he commanded and Mark did as he was told with a giggle. Delonte grabbed an open 40oz from one of his crew and tipped it over Mark's genitals, the frothy beer soaking Mark's hard-on and tightened scrotum, then his asshole, which he puckered in and out to sip the warm brew.
Delonte pushed his baggy jeans down to his feet without unbuckling or unsnapping them, revealing the largest penis Mark had ever seen, a long, knotty, two-toned affair that looked like a branch broken from an old, burnt oak rather than a man's dick. The black man spit in his hand and stroked his cock until it was even more erect, his pre-ejaculate mixing with his saliva, the veins along his penis glistening and as thick as fingers-
"Fuck me with that little dick of yours," said Mark.
And Delonte obliged, stepping up and pushing his massive meat into Mark's waiting hole, burying it to the base in one stroke, Mark's anus ripping bloody to accept it, his unheld breath allowing him to experience the pleasure in the pain....
Then a bump bump bump the table's legs squealing Mark's body jolting with Delonte's cumming cock he exits with a plop another steps up smaller more forceful in out in out Delonte running around the side measuring up to Mark's lips for a cleaning stuffing it into his esophagus his shriveled balls cushioning into Mark's nose the scent of iron chlorine shit the taste of his ass like heaven a few ropes more of the extra-large cock's cum splashing his vocal chords before being withdrawn replaced by the dick that just showered his rectum replaced by a smaller dick and on and on until the break of dawn heart pummping rhythms to his ears breaths quick short through his nose passing the pipe hittin' the rock a cerebral orgasm Glock round chambered cocked piercing the hole then there were two Mark gets up his ass mashing slipping through the puddle of fuck blood a warm forty 18 Cedarville Niggers' after-cum saliva the last two lay on the table at opposite ends their legs intertwined their crotches mashed their 8 and a half inchers the smallest held together by a generous hand Mark jumps onto the table squats on both of them rocking back forth back forth massaging his prostate with 17 inches his four-incher hard with the cum about to shoot over his shoulder Donte steps up mashes lips with him their lips don't feel any bigger when you kiss them no matter what they look like the two are finished Mark rolls over pulls his legs back "Eat my ass so I can cum" Donte's knees hit the tiled floor tongue out meshing with Mark's asshole Mark jerking his little dick wet with pre-cum ejaculates his eyes closed torso stiff the sound of his cum hitting just under his ear tinny bip bip bip his hole opens the cum of 20 of Cedarville's finest niggers smothering Donte's face "Woo Hoo, good times" "Huzzah!" "Look at dat shit" "Donte's a white boy" Hahahahahahahahahahaha
Mark grabbed a towel and put it to his asshole, soaking up the damage wrought by his fellow gang members. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his other hand and watched as they put on their clothes. Donte came over to him, his face finally clean, and slipped his baseball cap onto Mark's head.
"Get dressed, you crazy son of a bitch," he said.
Mark laughed as the rest of the guys turned around to look at him. He put his hands in the air and shrugged.
"Is that all you niggers got?" he said.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Prelude (in the Key of Ghetto Major)
Yo yo yo this is how it went down
20 funky niggas and one spikey-haired clown
Cedarville all up against da wall
Lined up biggest ta small
One at a time equals two later
Ain't no room in this room for DL haters
Watch out for Dennison
When he roll up he be menacin'
Gonn' whip out his lil' white dick
Too small even for a tiny tick
What you gonn' do
When you got genitals in yo hands?
Throw 'em up, throw 'em up!
Like a muthafuckin' trophy!
You know when it come to suckin' D
Ain't none better than Marky D
He taken more than a few
Make a nigga say "Woo Hoo!"
Munchin' on cocks
Like they is Doritos
Suckin' harder than a swarm
Of AIDS-infected mosquitoes
Elbow poppin', snot gaggin'
Cock slurpin', asshole saggin'
His throat be full and quiet
But his big white booty do all the talkin'
He open his man-pussy lips
And da niggas stick they Glock in
The pipe burn hollow
Marky D in da lead
Niggas they follow
Ready fo' da Double-D
Jimmy's are fo' losers
Spit 'n blood's fo' winners
They see dat red-pink asshole
Bust all they nuts in 'im
(Everybody say)
What you gonn' do
When you got genitals in yo hands?
Throw 'em up, throw 'em up!
Like a muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
(Written by G-Dub and The Durrr
Performed by Miguel "Bottoms Ups" Francisco
Courtesy of D-Ra(i)l'd Productions, Inc.
Copyright February 2008)
20 funky niggas and one spikey-haired clown
Cedarville all up against da wall
Lined up biggest ta small
One at a time equals two later
Ain't no room in this room for DL haters
Watch out for Dennison
When he roll up he be menacin'
Gonn' whip out his lil' white dick
Too small even for a tiny tick
What you gonn' do
When you got genitals in yo hands?
Throw 'em up, throw 'em up!
Like a muthafuckin' trophy!
You know when it come to suckin' D
Ain't none better than Marky D
He taken more than a few
Make a nigga say "Woo Hoo!"
Munchin' on cocks
Like they is Doritos
Suckin' harder than a swarm
Of AIDS-infected mosquitoes
Elbow poppin', snot gaggin'
Cock slurpin', asshole saggin'
His throat be full and quiet
But his big white booty do all the talkin'
He open his man-pussy lips
And da niggas stick they Glock in
The pipe burn hollow
Marky D in da lead
Niggas they follow
Ready fo' da Double-D
Jimmy's are fo' losers
Spit 'n blood's fo' winners
They see dat red-pink asshole
Bust all they nuts in 'im
(Everybody say)
What you gonn' do
When you got genitals in yo hands?
Throw 'em up, throw 'em up!
Like a muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
A muthafuckin' trophy!
(Written by G-Dub and The Durrr
Performed by Miguel "Bottoms Ups" Francisco
Courtesy of D-Ra(i)l'd Productions, Inc.
Copyright February 2008)
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Brothers
Mark slipped the blade of his straight razor between the gun cabinet's doors, crowbarred it open, and with one gloved hand, brought down the shotgun from the top rung. He pulled two shells from the unlocked drawer below and slid them into the barrels, snapping the gun shut with a flick of his wrist. "Woo hoo, good times," he said, repocketing his blade, and took off for the second floor.
Ned Jr. was on his knees in his room, placing blocks one on top of another and knocking them down with a swipe of his skinny arm and a jabbering howl from his pursed lips that shook the bangs of his bowl cut. Mark tapped on the door with the butt of the gun, sliding it behind his back as Ned Jr. looked up.
"What's up, little man?"
"Hi-"
"Whatcha doing?"
"Playing King Kong." Ned Jr. looked down at Mark's hand. "Why are you wearing that glove?"
"My hand's cold-"
"Oh-"
"Is Maury taking good care of you?"
"I hate it when they leave me with him. He's boring-"
Mark laughed. "Tell me about it-" And he closed Ned Jr.'s bedroom door as the boy resumed being an ape. Four steps and he was inside Maury's room, the butt of the shotgun in his armpit, the open ends of the barrels on the boy's forehead. "Hi."
"What the fuck, dude?"
"You didn't say I couldn't come back-"
Maury grabbed the waistband of his jeans. "You can suck my dick, dude-"
Mark jabbed the barrels forward, two perfect red circles swelling instantly over Maury's expressionless face. "Shut the fuck up-"
"Ouch, man, that shit hurts." Maury put a hand to his forehead. "Why are you doing this?"
"You did it-"
"I didn't do nothing, man-"
"Sit there and get some paper and a pen." Mark pointed to Maury's desk with the gun. "You've got to write a letter to your stupid fucking parents, telling them why you killed yourself-"
"I won't fucking do that-"
"And Ned Jr.-"
Maury got up and sat down at his desk, pulling a pack of looseleaf paper and a pen from the top drawer. "Don't hurt my little brother-"
"Are you gonna do it or not?"
"Fuck you-"
"Dude, it doesn't have to be Shakespeare-"
"Don't hurt my little brother is all I ask-"
"Okay." Mark snorted a meatball of snot down his throat. "I'll dictate, you write. Since you're about as bright as that little retard in there-"
"You're lucky you have that fucking gun-"
"Dear Mom and Dad-"
Maury picked up the pen with a shaking hand and began writing, the first letters smearing with a tear that dropped from his eye. After he signed his name, he turned to Mark, who placed the barrels of the gun back above his nose. "Please don't-"
And Mark pulled the trigger, watching as the top of the boy's head detached itself from the rest of his body, the fragile bone dragging along with it hair, blood, brain, neurons, synapses, capillaries, and everything else that once resided just above and behind his best friend's face. The remaining parts of Maury fell sideways onto the floor, and Mark gave the ass one last good kick, then turned slowly at the noise behind him. He took a step forward and put a gloved hand over Ned Jr.'s mouth. "Have you ever been raped and murdered?" he whispered.
Ned Jr. was on his knees in his room, placing blocks one on top of another and knocking them down with a swipe of his skinny arm and a jabbering howl from his pursed lips that shook the bangs of his bowl cut. Mark tapped on the door with the butt of the gun, sliding it behind his back as Ned Jr. looked up.
"What's up, little man?"
"Hi-"
"Whatcha doing?"
"Playing King Kong." Ned Jr. looked down at Mark's hand. "Why are you wearing that glove?"
"My hand's cold-"
"Oh-"
"Is Maury taking good care of you?"
"I hate it when they leave me with him. He's boring-"
Mark laughed. "Tell me about it-" And he closed Ned Jr.'s bedroom door as the boy resumed being an ape. Four steps and he was inside Maury's room, the butt of the shotgun in his armpit, the open ends of the barrels on the boy's forehead. "Hi."
"What the fuck, dude?"
"You didn't say I couldn't come back-"
Maury grabbed the waistband of his jeans. "You can suck my dick, dude-"
Mark jabbed the barrels forward, two perfect red circles swelling instantly over Maury's expressionless face. "Shut the fuck up-"
"Ouch, man, that shit hurts." Maury put a hand to his forehead. "Why are you doing this?"
"You did it-"
"I didn't do nothing, man-"
"Sit there and get some paper and a pen." Mark pointed to Maury's desk with the gun. "You've got to write a letter to your stupid fucking parents, telling them why you killed yourself-"
"I won't fucking do that-"
"And Ned Jr.-"
Maury got up and sat down at his desk, pulling a pack of looseleaf paper and a pen from the top drawer. "Don't hurt my little brother-"
"Are you gonna do it or not?"
"Fuck you-"
"Dude, it doesn't have to be Shakespeare-"
"Don't hurt my little brother is all I ask-"
"Okay." Mark snorted a meatball of snot down his throat. "I'll dictate, you write. Since you're about as bright as that little retard in there-"
"You're lucky you have that fucking gun-"
"Dear Mom and Dad-"
Maury picked up the pen with a shaking hand and began writing, the first letters smearing with a tear that dropped from his eye. After he signed his name, he turned to Mark, who placed the barrels of the gun back above his nose. "Please don't-"
And Mark pulled the trigger, watching as the top of the boy's head detached itself from the rest of his body, the fragile bone dragging along with it hair, blood, brain, neurons, synapses, capillaries, and everything else that once resided just above and behind his best friend's face. The remaining parts of Maury fell sideways onto the floor, and Mark gave the ass one last good kick, then turned slowly at the noise behind him. He took a step forward and put a gloved hand over Ned Jr.'s mouth. "Have you ever been raped and murdered?" he whispered.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Black Holes
"What the fuck is this place, dude?" Bertha Shears' body looked as if God had fucked up royally and put mismatched halves of two different women together and plopped Bertha's head on top. From the waist up, she was straight up, the only things perverting those perfect lines two cupcake-sized breasts, half-moons stuck in orbit in front of the tiny Pluto that was her torso. Below her belt, her hips billowed out, straining against a pair of size 20 generic jeans from Lane Bryant that saw scarred meat flowing over their waistband like lava out of a volcano on Mars. "I've lived here fifteen years and never knew it was back here."
Mark put his hands on his hips and looked at Bertha, whose silhouette in the shack's doorway blocked out the sun behind. With a swivel of his neck, he took in the knotted, cracked boards, the hole in the wall behind him, the webs of hiding spiders in the corners, and the mound of dirt off to one side, a shovel firmly planted in its middle, and grinned. "It's my home away from home." He shrugged. "Actually, it's a tree house that isn't in a tree anymore."
"I thought it was your spaceship-"
"That too-"
He reached out and grabbed Bertha's wrist, pulling her to him and pushing his tongue into her mouth in one motion. Before she could kiss him back, he placed a hand on top of her head and dragged her down along the front of his body until her face was at his zipper. Another second and his pants were around his knees, his tiny erection bobbing at her lips.
Bertha reared back. "Wow, you got a small dick-"
"Shut the fuck up-"
"No, it's cute. I love it-" And she swallowed it - and his balls - in one gulp. Then spit them out, gagging. "Dude, your fuckin' pubes stink-"
"Oh, I haven't showered for a couple weeks-"
Bertha choke-gagged and spit a voluminous ball of saliva from deep in her throat between Mark's legs.
"And I gotta shit-"
She shook her head. "I don't think-" She coughed. "This floor isn't very stable-"
"You know you fucking want it-" Mark stepped out of his jeans and underwear, then locked his hands around her head and shoved his wet little dick into her open mouth, pumping her face until she was sucking him of her own volition. "Going boldy-" Before he could untangle his hands from her straight, shaggy hair, his perineum tightened, shriveling his testicles close to his pelvis and jolting his hips, then his cock, as he blasted three warm tethers of cum into Bertha's mouth.
Mark fell to his knees and fastened his mouth to Bertha's, drinking his cum from her tongue, which he swallowed for the third time that day. He pushed her onto her back and pulled on the waist of her jeans until they slid over her gelatinous hips, the zipper tearing, the button flying into his eye. "Fuck!" Blinking the sting out of his eye with fury, he grabbed her ankles and rammed her legs forward until she was on her shoulders and elbows, the folds of her chubby vagina staring up at him wide-eyed through an alien jungle of slick, matted curly springs of hair.
He rocketed to his feet, squatted over her, and licked her sticky clit with the head of his needle dick. Then loped forward, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands, until he felt her labia kissing his anus, at which he lowered himself further, hermetically sealing them together. With a forceful undulation of his abdomen, he pushed a 2 day-old turd out of his rectum-
"What the fuck?" Bertha twisted away from under him and scooted on her ass into the nearest corner, where she initiated an exploration of her brown, packed vagina. "What's your problem, dude? Why'd you do some sick shit like that?"
"Was that a pun?" Mark laughed. He ran his middle finger deep through his ass crack and flicked the results of his excavation at the crying girl in front of him.
"Jesus Christ!"
"I told you we were gonna space dock-"
"You fucking pervert." Bertha dug the last of Mark's turd from her cunt. "And with that little fucking toothpick-" She pointed. "Ha, I wouldn't've felt it anyway-"
Mark disengaged the shovel from the mound of dirt and held it high above his head, bringing it down with such force that as Bertha's skull split into uneven halves, the rest of his turd propelled from his ass and crashed into the wall behind him. He dislodged the shovel from Bertha's mouth, nose, and brain, then carefully wedged its bloody tip between two floorboards behind him, flipping one up to expose the hole he'd dug the day before. Two more boards and he dragged Bertha's cooling mass across the shack, depositing it into the shallow abyss.
Mark put his hands on his hips and looked at Bertha, whose silhouette in the shack's doorway blocked out the sun behind. With a swivel of his neck, he took in the knotted, cracked boards, the hole in the wall behind him, the webs of hiding spiders in the corners, and the mound of dirt off to one side, a shovel firmly planted in its middle, and grinned. "It's my home away from home." He shrugged. "Actually, it's a tree house that isn't in a tree anymore."
"I thought it was your spaceship-"
"That too-"
He reached out and grabbed Bertha's wrist, pulling her to him and pushing his tongue into her mouth in one motion. Before she could kiss him back, he placed a hand on top of her head and dragged her down along the front of his body until her face was at his zipper. Another second and his pants were around his knees, his tiny erection bobbing at her lips.
Bertha reared back. "Wow, you got a small dick-"
"Shut the fuck up-"
"No, it's cute. I love it-" And she swallowed it - and his balls - in one gulp. Then spit them out, gagging. "Dude, your fuckin' pubes stink-"
"Oh, I haven't showered for a couple weeks-"
Bertha choke-gagged and spit a voluminous ball of saliva from deep in her throat between Mark's legs.
"And I gotta shit-"
She shook her head. "I don't think-" She coughed. "This floor isn't very stable-"
"You know you fucking want it-" Mark stepped out of his jeans and underwear, then locked his hands around her head and shoved his wet little dick into her open mouth, pumping her face until she was sucking him of her own volition. "Going boldy-" Before he could untangle his hands from her straight, shaggy hair, his perineum tightened, shriveling his testicles close to his pelvis and jolting his hips, then his cock, as he blasted three warm tethers of cum into Bertha's mouth.
Mark fell to his knees and fastened his mouth to Bertha's, drinking his cum from her tongue, which he swallowed for the third time that day. He pushed her onto her back and pulled on the waist of her jeans until they slid over her gelatinous hips, the zipper tearing, the button flying into his eye. "Fuck!" Blinking the sting out of his eye with fury, he grabbed her ankles and rammed her legs forward until she was on her shoulders and elbows, the folds of her chubby vagina staring up at him wide-eyed through an alien jungle of slick, matted curly springs of hair.
He rocketed to his feet, squatted over her, and licked her sticky clit with the head of his needle dick. Then loped forward, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands, until he felt her labia kissing his anus, at which he lowered himself further, hermetically sealing them together. With a forceful undulation of his abdomen, he pushed a 2 day-old turd out of his rectum-
"What the fuck?" Bertha twisted away from under him and scooted on her ass into the nearest corner, where she initiated an exploration of her brown, packed vagina. "What's your problem, dude? Why'd you do some sick shit like that?"
"Was that a pun?" Mark laughed. He ran his middle finger deep through his ass crack and flicked the results of his excavation at the crying girl in front of him.
"Jesus Christ!"
"I told you we were gonna space dock-"
"You fucking pervert." Bertha dug the last of Mark's turd from her cunt. "And with that little fucking toothpick-" She pointed. "Ha, I wouldn't've felt it anyway-"
Mark disengaged the shovel from the mound of dirt and held it high above his head, bringing it down with such force that as Bertha's skull split into uneven halves, the rest of his turd propelled from his ass and crashed into the wall behind him. He dislodged the shovel from Bertha's mouth, nose, and brain, then carefully wedged its bloody tip between two floorboards behind him, flipping one up to expose the hole he'd dug the day before. Two more boards and he dragged Bertha's cooling mass across the shack, depositing it into the shallow abyss.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Aight
"Yo, what up nigger?"
"Did you just call me nigger?"
"Hey, hey, man, you can't say nigger-"
"Why not? You just called me a nigger-"
"Cause you white, you ain't no nigger-"
"What the fuck? I was just repeating what you said-"
"You can say cracker-"
"So can you-"
"Yeah, but my peeps been in slavery for 600 years-"
"I ain't enslaving nobody. As a matter of fact, I support my black brothers-" Mark clasped hands with Donte, exchanging a tight wad of five twenties for a sliver of alumimum foil folded flat several times over, which he slowly slipped into the front pocket of jeans. "So take that motherfucker. Besides, y'all like being called that-"
"Fuck you say-"
"What's the name of your gang?"
"The Cedarville Niggers-"
"All right then-"
"Man, we takin' ownership of that shit-"
"Whatever. I'm fuckin' white as a ghost and I don't like bein' called nigger-"
"Damn, motherfucker, there you go again-" Donte glanced his knuckles off the side of Mark's ribs through his leather jacket and laughed. "You a crazy motherfuckin' white boy-"
"Cracker. Get that shit right-"
Donte laughed again and ran his hand lightly over his cornrows as he looked around. He nodded towards a security guard walking their way. "You wanna smoke-"
"Sure-"
"Let's get the fuck outta here-"
Donte put a key in the door of an old burgundy Cadillac that sparkled in the twilight. "Here's my lady-" He locked the doors after Mark got in, pushed the gas pedal three times, then turned the ignition. "Purrin' like a fuckin' kitten-"
Mark laughed, watching the mall grow smaller through his tinted window as Donte pulled onto the highway. He reached into the glove box and grabbed a small box. Flipping the lid, he pulled out a plastic baggie filled with weed and rolling papers and set to crafting two of the skinniest joints ever known to mankind.
Donte jerked the car into Mark's neighborhood, sped past 20 or 30 cloned single-family homes and softly alighted onto a narrow blacktop that stretched around the back of the community's electrical power boxes. Out of sight, he jerked the key backwards and turned down the radio. "Gimme some of that shit-"
Mark handed one of the toothpicks to Donte and watched as the only 21 year-old Cedarville High lit and sucked down half of his perfectly cylindrical creation. Donte handed Mark the joint as he began choking, waving the smoke pouring from his chest out of his face. "Smoke the rest of that white boy's dick, will you?"
Mark grinned and obliged his friend, burning his lungs and fingertips with the rest of the twig. He stubbed the remaining millimeter in the ashtray and exhaled, the veins in his forehead straining with the force of his gagging. He picked up the other string of a joint and handed it to Donte. "Here-"
Another two drags between them and several thousand coughs and they lay back against their leather headrests. "Is is it true what they say about you," said Donte.
"What's that?"
"That you're a faggot?"
"Who says that?"
"People-"
"That's funny. They say you're on the DL-"
Donte laughed. He punched Mark's knee. "Man, I got nothin' 'gainst faggots." He coughed. "You know Larry-"
"Yeah-"
"I let him suck my dick before-"
"Really? Why?"
"Motherfucker owed me three hundred dollars. But he only had two hundred. So I said, 'Suck my dick and you ain't gotta worry 'bout the other hundred.' I was just kiddin'. Next thing I know, nigger on his knees with my dick in his mouth-"
Mark laughed. "What the fuck?"
"Best head I ever got-" Donte turned his bloodshot eyes to Mark and shifted in his seat.
"Ha-" Mark closed his eyes, giggling.
And Donte's lips brushed against his, the man's large knotty hand guiding Mark's to his crotch-
"Did you just call me nigger?"
"Hey, hey, man, you can't say nigger-"
"Why not? You just called me a nigger-"
"Cause you white, you ain't no nigger-"
"What the fuck? I was just repeating what you said-"
"You can say cracker-"
"So can you-"
"Yeah, but my peeps been in slavery for 600 years-"
"I ain't enslaving nobody. As a matter of fact, I support my black brothers-" Mark clasped hands with Donte, exchanging a tight wad of five twenties for a sliver of alumimum foil folded flat several times over, which he slowly slipped into the front pocket of jeans. "So take that motherfucker. Besides, y'all like being called that-"
"Fuck you say-"
"What's the name of your gang?"
"The Cedarville Niggers-"
"All right then-"
"Man, we takin' ownership of that shit-"
"Whatever. I'm fuckin' white as a ghost and I don't like bein' called nigger-"
"Damn, motherfucker, there you go again-" Donte glanced his knuckles off the side of Mark's ribs through his leather jacket and laughed. "You a crazy motherfuckin' white boy-"
"Cracker. Get that shit right-"
Donte laughed again and ran his hand lightly over his cornrows as he looked around. He nodded towards a security guard walking their way. "You wanna smoke-"
"Sure-"
"Let's get the fuck outta here-"
Donte put a key in the door of an old burgundy Cadillac that sparkled in the twilight. "Here's my lady-" He locked the doors after Mark got in, pushed the gas pedal three times, then turned the ignition. "Purrin' like a fuckin' kitten-"
Mark laughed, watching the mall grow smaller through his tinted window as Donte pulled onto the highway. He reached into the glove box and grabbed a small box. Flipping the lid, he pulled out a plastic baggie filled with weed and rolling papers and set to crafting two of the skinniest joints ever known to mankind.
Donte jerked the car into Mark's neighborhood, sped past 20 or 30 cloned single-family homes and softly alighted onto a narrow blacktop that stretched around the back of the community's electrical power boxes. Out of sight, he jerked the key backwards and turned down the radio. "Gimme some of that shit-"
Mark handed one of the toothpicks to Donte and watched as the only 21 year-old Cedarville High lit and sucked down half of his perfectly cylindrical creation. Donte handed Mark the joint as he began choking, waving the smoke pouring from his chest out of his face. "Smoke the rest of that white boy's dick, will you?"
Mark grinned and obliged his friend, burning his lungs and fingertips with the rest of the twig. He stubbed the remaining millimeter in the ashtray and exhaled, the veins in his forehead straining with the force of his gagging. He picked up the other string of a joint and handed it to Donte. "Here-"
Another two drags between them and several thousand coughs and they lay back against their leather headrests. "Is is it true what they say about you," said Donte.
"What's that?"
"That you're a faggot?"
"Who says that?"
"People-"
"That's funny. They say you're on the DL-"
Donte laughed. He punched Mark's knee. "Man, I got nothin' 'gainst faggots." He coughed. "You know Larry-"
"Yeah-"
"I let him suck my dick before-"
"Really? Why?"
"Motherfucker owed me three hundred dollars. But he only had two hundred. So I said, 'Suck my dick and you ain't gotta worry 'bout the other hundred.' I was just kiddin'. Next thing I know, nigger on his knees with my dick in his mouth-"
Mark laughed. "What the fuck?"
"Best head I ever got-" Donte turned his bloodshot eyes to Mark and shifted in his seat.
"Ha-" Mark closed his eyes, giggling.
And Donte's lips brushed against his, the man's large knotty hand guiding Mark's to his crotch-
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