Thursday, October 16, 2008

Monster Sex

R u there?

Even though he always txts the same thing to me, he pretends not to know what I'm talking about. There?

Fancy a bj from a girl in glasses?

what's special about a girl in glasses?

you can imagine i'm a kinky geek goddess

there is that

should I come?

If you can come for a few minutes.

I go up to my room, brush my hair. I slip a sharp-edged condom into my bra--foil wrapper.

Max is in the same room as me, writing. I pat his blonde hair. "I'm going for a walk."

"Oh?" he says, looking up.

"Is Jesus your friend?" says J. from the floor.

"No," I say. I go out.

My breast buzzes.


I txt back, coming.

I regret it a little. Mr. Six would have let him wait. Mr. Six would have made him think he wasn't coming. Then, only when he was at the very top of the stairs with Rufus inside thinking he would never come: Knock knock.

Halfway down the street I start hiccuping.

Rufus is sitting with his knees on the sofa, waiting. hic! excitement. he looks out the window, anxious. hic! Must stop--isn't sexy. hic!

I hold my breath.

"God fucking dammit!" I yell.


Rufus is panicking, both hands over his mouth. Giggles.

Scream. Yell: reset. Someone come up from behind and yell, "Boo!"


Half a street away, I hold my breath again. This has got to stop.

Rufus opens the door. Mr. Six holds up a bottle of Orange Crush. Nervous, Rufus shows him in, trying not to hiccup, fails. Mr. Six says "Aww, here," gives him a drink. Rufus gulps it down, swallows the hiccups, gasps.

Mr. Six is drinking too, laughing at him.

"Shut up," says Rufus, kisses him.


Hold breath again. Moment passes in which I imagine my diaphragm erupting. Somehow it calms. I don't feel calm.

Cross the street. Headlights.

Peering in the dark--which door? Up the creaky creaky stairs. I leave the door open, on the bottom, even though it is also open at the top. Anyone could get in. Robbers.

Last time he was watching TV. This time he is already standing. Big shape--comes to me. We make out. He finds my chiffon skirt, perhaps he'll pull it up--I want to be bare-assed to anyone looking up the stairs from the street.

The french kissing ends. He looks back to the sofa. He wants to sit down. No, he's turning off the TV. "It's dark," I say. He reaches to turn on a lamp, but instead AC goes silent.

Uh-oh, I think, as he takes my hand in his large, dry palm. It's so dark there's nothing to see, only touch, and I know how my mind will people the dark with shapes. He's ahead of me, opens the door. I remember the first time, party outside, he pulled me in the same way. "I wish we had done it when we weren't drunk", I had told him then.

All dark, just shapes. In the dark he will not have a face, just a blank hole. "Wait," I say, laughing a little, "let me take off my sandals."

First time we did this, my grandmother had been dead. My father had called and told me the week before. His room is a wreck: clothes, boxes, a hatrack. But only in the daylight. Now just big lurking shapes.

Last time, I had realized that he could have been anything. I couldn't see anything but black, I only knew he was there from his mouth on my pussy. He could have been doing anything else without me seeing. He could have switched his body entirely, changed to a wolf, silently swelled to fill the whole room...

He pulls me down onto the bed. Swell of his belly. Perhaps pressing my hand to it will make it cave in, the sides will clamp down on my hands, cutting them off. Teeth, blood, scream. His mouth is a warm wet hole on mine, probing tongue. He lifts my thigh, I realize something about myself.

"I'm so wet," I say.

"You are." He closes my legs, lays a hand on my knee.

"Aren't you going to put them in?"

"I will," he says.

His fingers slip in easily, without a hint of the pain that usually threads the sides of my cunt hole. All the while we kiss, his tongue encircling mine, his mouth wet, covering my chin. My hands in his hair are wet, his neck is slippery. Only touch, can't see a thing. Perhaps in the throes of it his head will detach from his body, big drops of yellow ooze, and I won't realize it until I reach for his body and realize that it's somewhere else, that he's nibbling the back of my ear while his chest is still in front of me. I put my hand in the crook of his neck so I can feel it in case he decides to detach. Tongue. I bit the tip and realize his whole tongue is extended out of his mouth, the length of it.

He's doing it, I think, he's doing it now. He pulls my hand down--feel my cock. "Can we turn on a light?" I ask. "Want to see what I'm doing."

"All right," he says. As wet as its made me, my libido won't take much more of this, soon I'll start to freak out.

The light is on in a moment. He is wearing a t-shirt, bare legged, his broad face. He's grinning. Human. I sigh with relief and we kiss--he lays back, pushing my head down towards his crotch. Blowjob.

I look up and realize the mirror on the wall, we're exactly even. I can watch myself give him a blowjob. I smile at myself, like that girl with the website--will I tear with love? (link) My face takes on the same elongated shape as hers.

Good sloppy blowjob. Sloppy seconds. even thirds (link. make it exact). my hair makes a webbing around my face, sticking to everything. My own hair in the blowjob.

The bed begins to squeak--our combined weight is rocking the whole thing.

I can't come. "Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!" Rufus barks as he thrusts into Mr. Six's arsehole over and over again.

Smell of fruit. Did he fart? Pause half a beat. Thrust, thrust, thrust...

My hips are killing me, stretched to accommodate his bulk. Why must they ache? I stretch my legs up--pilates--he goes wild. Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrust. What is that, oh god, my ass, his hand, no, it's his balls, with every thrust his balls are swinging and hitting me square in the pink pucker-up of my ass.

"Ohohohoh," I say.

His cock slips out, he lets it go, it brushes the lip of my pussy and he thrusts it right back in again. Press. I glance up and see him with his head up, his eyes shut tight, holding.

Oh, I think, this must be it.


For a second I'm afraid he's going to collapse on me. His head drops, then he kisses my breast. Smiles, eyes nearly closing. The he pulls himself up, goes out into the hall still naked. I catch a glimpse of the condom hanging halfway off his dick, full of sperm.

I lay on the bed where he left me. My skirt is around my waist, one leg drawn up, falling against one another. No orgasm. Unhappy? No.

Mr. Six laughs. He tilts a bottle of orange crush and drinks and drinks until his belly is round and hard--belches. He caresses the curve of it and that's all, what a thousand licks had not been able to put into me is lit up. My legs begin to stir--another round?

The BHM is back. He turns off the light, gets in bed with me. We tangle up together, belly bulge against mine. Might collapse. I think he can eat me, now.

"Hi," I say, in between kisses.

"Mm," he says.


◆ Confused as to who the heck it is that I'm writing about? Check out the Who's Who of Stuffies.

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