“untitled” (part iii: another disgusting sex scene 😔)

“I’ve seen a million penises,” Patricia informed Eric. “I’m a trained doctor, remember? I just need to examine your pelvis to see if it’s fully healed for fuck’s sake!”

“But I’ve always had male doctors,” Eric replied. “If a female doctor looks at my junk, I might, uhh..”

“Get a boner?” Patricia asked. “Who gives a fuck? I’m just gonna lower your underwear and feel around a little.”

Eric laid in bed quietly as Patricia lowered his piss-stained tighty-whities. Despite flooding his mind with unpleasant thoughts, blood raged through his veins on down to his nether regions. Patricia focused diligently on her duties while her wrist and elbows occasionally brushed up against his pathetic, throbbing erection.

The two didn’t say a word for the duration of the examination. Patricia came to the conclusion that Eric did indeed make a full recovery and then looked back at his helplessly average wang. “Do you ever wash this thing?” she asked, “Jesus Christ.”

“Uhhh….,” Eric was at a loss for words while Patricia studied his appendage. Already four sheets to the wind, Patricia removed her rubber gloves and gripped Eric’s schlong. “Sometimes after pelvic and spinal injuries,” Patricia explained, “male patients can experience ejaculatory problems.”

After two, no more than three strokes, Eric busted all over Patricia’s hand and guest bed. “Hmm,” Patricia wondered aloud as she gazed upon her jizz stained hand, “based on the lack of stimulus applied to the glans, you may experience involuntary ejaculation from here on out.”

Patricia stood up to wash her hands while Eric remained laid out in a state of post-orgasmic euphoria. After drying her hands, she wrote out a seven figure check. “I hope this covers everything,” she said as she laid the check down on Eric’s bare chest while his arms were sprawled out, “I’m sorry for hitting you with my car. But you are fully healed. You’re free to leave whenever you wish.”

Eric came to his senses, pulled up his nasty ass underwear, and proceeded to dress. Patricia went back downstairs to pour herself a stiff drink. Eric joined her minutes later.

“These last few days,” he explained, “have been some of the best days of my life.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Patricia asked. “You’ve been bed-ridden for two weeks!”

“I know, I know,” Eric replied. He then lifted up the seven figure check, ripped it up, and let the shreds fall to the floor. “But damn it, Patricia,” he continued, “I think I’m falling for you.”

“Uhhh….”

TO BE CONTINUED…

funky cold medina

You know what pisses me off?

incels?

A pervert can no longer be just a pervert. Back in my day…the 1970s (when I was about 52)…a man could walk into a peep show, take out their penis, and flip a quarter to the janitor for all their troubles.

We accepted that no woman would allow us within 40 feet of their vagina. At least not without paying for it first. And that was okay.

Now it’s an “injustice” to not get laid.

You know what’s a REAL injustice?

Madden 22

a quiet life (part I)

Is it possible to write a story that lacks conflict, heroes, or villains?

Let’s find out

****

My guts were boiling.

I climbed out of bed, dropped my pants, and evacuated my bowels. It was a good shit.

Afterwards, I shaved my balls. And ass. I climbed in the shower and measured my penis: 3.5 inches soft, 5in hard (5 1/4in from the taint).

I shoved some eggs and toast down my throat and grabbed a coffee. As I was walking out to the driveway, my neighbor confronted me.

“If you blast your radio at 2am again, I am calling the cops!” he said.

I pulled out my Glock. “Look buddy,” I replied, “you’re on my property. That means I have the right to unleash holy hell right into your skull. So don’t fuck with me!”

Then I got into my car and turned up the radio. I bounced up and down all the way to work to the sound of ‘Big Fat Funky Booty’ by the Spin Doctors on repeat.

When I arrived, I walked into the office. “Hey baby,” I said to the receptionist, “when are you gonna give me a shot at those titties?”

“I’ve already reported you to Human Resources,” she replied. “Please don’t speak to me.”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart,” I said.

I went to my desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “A little early in the morning for that, isn’t it Bill?” my boss asked.

“You know I’m never sober before 8am, Dick,” I replied.

“Damn it Bill! I should fire you but you always do your best work drunk.”

“Thanks Dick. Say, when am I getting that raise?”

“Once when we get those lawsuits settled from all the faulty products you designed, you’ll get a 20% raise.”

“Fuckin snowflakes,” I said. “A little cancer never hurt anyone.”

“I think the judge will agree,” Dick replied. “He should. We paid him enough money.”

“Thanks Dick. You’re the best.”

Dick went back to his office and I pulled up porn on my work computer. It was a productive day.

TO BE CONTINUED

my opinions are just too dangerous man

“I’m gonna slap those chilli fries right out your mouth,” Jenny, my mother, said.

“Jenny, I’m just asking you if Nicky Wallz is my father,” I replied.

“I don’t know who da fuck dis Nicky is, but he can suck my lef nut,” she said. My mother never explained how she got a Brooklyn accent.

“Ma, did you ever take in a homeless kid 30 some years ago?”

“It was da 80s, everybody was doin wacky shit then,” Jenny replied as she took a drag off her cigarette through her stoma.

I couldn’t stand to be around her when she was like this. I started to walk away.

“Where are you goin?” she asked.

“I gotta take a shit Ma!”

Later I was browsing the porno mags in Safeway when a strange woman bumped her cart into me.

“Watch it lady!” I yelled.

It was Anthrax. I haven’t seen her since I escaped from that exploding warehouse.

“Hello James,” she said.

“Anthrax”

“I just thought I should tell you that I am three months sober. I am attending AA and I am currently seeking to make amends to those I have harmed. Therefore, I apologize for drugging and kidnapping you, and putting objects up your rectum.”

I was shocked.

“Well, you are forgiven. And I am sorry for squeezing your tit and pistol whipping you unconscious,” I replied.

“I forgive you as well,” she said.

We both stood there in awkward silence. Finally I spoke up.

“Say, can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“Yes. I would like that,” Anthrax replied stoically.

We didn’t have much to say at the coffee shop. I was still hyped up on the MDMA I took earlier, so I just drank water.

“So what happened to Honda after that deadly explosion that nearly destroyed West Hollywood? Is she okay?” I asked.

“Her face was ripped off and her arms and legs were mangled beyond repair. She survived though, whisked off by the black shirt men to an undisclosed location,” Anthrax replied.

“Well that sucks. Weren’t you two close?”

“Yes. We were sisters in the crime syndicate known as TOILET: Terrorism Or the International League that Engages in Terrorism. Honda rescued me as a small child off the streets of Stockholm and trained me in the ways thievery, extortion, and deception. I owe her my life. I would do anything to find her.”

“But how did you survive that explosion?” I asked.

“I have my ways”

Anthrax continued to sip on her coffee. I took one last gulp of my water.

“Welp, care to have sex?” I asked.

“Yes. I’d like that.”