Joey Cloudy online

TRAMP: This is How the World Ends

“This Is The End… My beautiful friend, the end…”

In the end everybody dies, nobody gets out of this alive”

-The Lizard King

Mona was dressed in a long loose loose-fitting black cotton blend skirt that stopped somewhere between where her calves ended and her ankles began. The oversized black Beowulf T-shirt belonged to Nathan. She pulled on her favorite combat boots with steel toes on the outside, capping the toe in silver. Her gear was sitting in a neat pile near the door, ready to go whenever Carlton arrived to pick her up. For the last three years, three nights a week, Carlton had dutifully driven Mona down to Deep Ellum to sell her jewelry. Normally, she could convince him to do it with just the insinuation of a blow job.

However, ever since she had started hanging out with Aaron, all of the white guys that she had strung along effortlessly for years now, with a hand job, letting them go down on her, or infrequently giving a little head, no longer answered their phones when they saw Nathan’s number, the tattoo shops or a payphones number on their caller ID. Most now deleted her messages from their answering machines without even bothering to listen to them or call her back. Everyone of them refused to eat her out anymore. Her control over them weakened now to the point that she could only get the few who would even answer the phone when she called to do anything for her, drive to Deep Ellum, or pick up supplies if she submitted to their myriad of atypical sexual fetishes. Once they met Aaron, most didn’t want to have anything to do with her any longer.

One look at his black ass and they could no longer maintain the fantasy that she was just friends with this guy. There was no way that she could keep a guy like Aaron around by letting him go down on her or the occasional blow job. Mona was fucking her little pet nigger poet. That much was obvious. Most white boys would never go near any white woman who ever fucked a black man, not if they knew about anything it. But this they would never tell her. They couldn’t even say it, consciously, to themselves. They simply lost all desire to be with her without ever thinking about why.

After Reverend Chucky Streaker of the church of the unenlightened sub-idiot had driven Mona to Richardson to pick up jewelry-making supplies, wire, clasp, hematite, and a variety of semiprecious stones, they stopped by his place to smoke a joint. She was forced to let him fuck her tits. This favorite thing to do on the rare occasions that he was with a girl. Chucky had been sliding his cock into her cleavage since he first met Mona ten years ago. She realized before they even got started that he wasn’t going to be satisfied with ejaculating all over her breast as usual. He fucked her face as if it were a crack whore’s worn-out vagina for a long while as he played with her pussy with his callused, spit-slickened fingers. When he was tired of this, he flipped her over onto her belly, raised her hips up until she was on her knees with her ass in the air, before he quickly shoved his prick into the dampened cleft between her thighs.

When Chucky dropped her off at her apartment, she was still sore from when he had chaffed her cleavage titty fucking her, and she was not looking forward to having to deal with Nathan, who was horny as hell after gaming all week. Drunk on an excellent bourbon, he insisted on fucking her while in character as his favorite Dungeons and Dragons character, Seamus C. Hennessey, a Scottish Werecat master assassin, while pretending she was a fifteen-year-old boy wizard named Hunter Villion. He’d fucked her hard throughout the long day before Carlton arrived to drive her to the Deep Ellum.

Carlton knocked at the door of the apartment. Mona slipped on her Doc Martin sandals, picked up her gear, and headed out the door. It took her two trips to get her things loaded into the back of the car because Carlton didn’t help her carry anything. After she answered the door, he immediately headed down the darkened sidewalk towards the parking lot just around the corner from the apartment. The first words out of his mouth after she climbed into the car were

You’re fucking me tonight, or this car is not moving. No hand job, no blowjob, or any of your usual bullshit jobs. You can either climb in the back and fuck or get your shit and get the fuck out of my car. Mona considered her options for a moment, sighed with resignation as she climbed into the familiar rear compartment of his five-year-old white Ford Bronco. Nathan was probably at his computer watching the little Mermaid masturbating again, she thought as she sucked on the head of Carlton’s cock.

Once she got him stiff, he tore into her, fucking her hard and cumming so fast he barely had time to yank it out of her aching hole in time to spray his white sticky seed all over her pale belly. As soon as he finished on her, he wiped his dick off on the hem of her long black skirt, zipped up his pants, then returned to the driver’s seat, started the car, and drove her to her spot in front of the tattoo shop without speaking.

Once they arrived on the strip, he stopped the car, refusing to even look at her. Mona knew Carlton wasn’t going to help her to get her stuff out of the back of the car. Usually, he helped her get her things out before he found a parking space, then he would return on foot with food and drink from Café Brazil. Then he would sit by her like a faithful dog in his self-appointed role of security until she sent him to fetch more coffee or food. If she met someone she would rather hook up with later, then she would send him on his way, often with her gear stored in the back of his SUV. On several occasions, she had simply left him there with her stuff while she snuck off in order to get high or for a quickie with someone she actually enjoyed having sex with. After she removed the last of her supplies from his car, she closed the rear hatch, and he drove off without looking back. Carlton wasn’t coming back, so she was going to have to take a cab home tonight.

Her jaw still ached from sucking so much dick, and her cunt was a little tender. Every one of these guys was giving her an array of hardcore, marathon, revenge fucks. What she didn’t understand was why she couldn’t control them any longer. She was beginning to wonder if she ever had. Of course, she had before, many of them like Chucky and Carlton for years, ever since she was a kid.

She had been raped several times, the first time by a neighbor when she was only eight years old. By the time she was eleven, her mother’s older brother, Uncle Pete, had taken too much of a liking to her and was slipping his skinny little pecker into her whenever he could. After her parents divorced and he moved in with them because her mother thought they would be safer with a man in the house. Mona left home at thirteen when her mother’s ex-boyfriend started raping her and telling her she was his girlfriend after he finished inside of her. Mona told her mom what had happened, hoping she would get rid of him or at least keep him off of her. But the old lady only told her.

It’s about time you found out what the world is really like. Besides, you’re old enough to handle your own men. Mona’s mother read her diary, then took her to a psychiatrist to have her institutionalized, but when Mona realized what she was planning, she left home and hitched to Dallas, where she’s lived by her wits ever since.

To say that Mona’s childhood had been a marathon horror show would be a gargantuan understatement. Too young to work legally, she resorted to making her living on her back. Mona never considered herself a prostitute because she never had vaginal intercourse for money; she only sucked their cocks for cash, which was different. Despite this little rationalization, the fact remained that she survived most of her life by screwing a large number of middle-aged men for a variety of reasons; sometimes a hand job in exchange for dinner at Café Brazil, a blowjob for a drug dealer, the occasional fuck for a place to crash for the night. She avoided intercourse whenever possible by giving head for crack, or whatever she needed at the moment.

She understood the limitations of civility. The true nature of power, that those with it use it as they see fit without regard for justice or mercy. It was ridiculously simple; there were the people who had power and the people who didn’t. She understood that there was no way to tell if a man was good or evil, kind or sadistic, honorable or roguish. It had absolutely nothing to do with wealth, race, class, or religion. She’d been gang raped by middle-class white suburban Christian boys and protected from skinheads by black gang bangers from the Southside’s Bon-Ton housing projects. Preachers working at the youth crisis center had squeezed her teenage tits, and Mexican truckers had fed her and watched over her while she slept in their rigs as if she were their own daughter.

It was impossible to tell who was good and who was evil in the world but she had learned early that being an attractive young female could be a commodity at least her mouth and vagina were commoditys like pork bellies, junk bonds or crude oil like the gold standard a woman’s vagina combined with her appearance was a marketable commodity as real as the deutschemark, the yen, or the euro. Of course, youth is a limited commodity, a vaginas allure a fickle thing, and a pretty face a tenuous asset. Still, it was a power; it was all the power she had. She imagined it was all the power that she would ever need.

Men were completely unpredictable; the wealthiest, most urbane ones were often enough the first to attack the moment you were alone, while the roughest, poorest of them were often the gentlest of lovers. Maybe pussy power wasn’t the kind of power that she wanted, but it was all that she had at her immediate disposal. After all, what is girl power but a nice way of saying, twat power, cunt power, cooze power. Yeah, right on!

Maybe it would sound better if you said it in French, La puissance vagin? It was a kind of power to have a six foot tall, two hundred and eighty-seven pound man get down on his knees to lick your pussy, while forbidding him to even jack off. After she came in his mouth after riding his face like a ride at Wet ‘ N Wild, soaking his lips, teeth, chin, and nostrils, his eyelids, and forehead, she would send him home. And he would feel grateful for having been given the privilege of sniffing around her cunt. It meant that she was in control of that man. The more stuff she could get a guy to do for her without having to fuck him, the stronger she felt.

When she could get a man to go down on her until she got off and then leave without ever having to concern herself with his erection, she felt powerful. Fuck’em, she laughed, let him go home and jack off dreaming about licking her pussy. Hell, for all she cared, they could all go suck their own dicks. For a while, the image of these horny losers sitting around naked, leaning over their potbellies, balding skull bent awkwardly over their crotches, mouths agape, and straining to suck their own stumpy peckers was a source of great personal amusement.

Tonight, things were different. Whenever she told one of these guys no sex, they just looked at her as if she were insane before they whipped out their hard-ons without ceremony, mounted her, and fucked her cruelly. She wasn’t laughing anymore. Nothing in her horoscope, Rob Brensky Freewill Astrology had put online, had warned her about anything like this; she wondered if something was wrong with the alignment of the planets or if the stars themselves had conspired to bring her to ruin. Although she would never have put it so crudely, her pussy and the alignment of the planets ruled her world.

Sitting on her folding chair behind her jewelry, contemplating her recent bad luck, Mona decided to walk to Café Brazil. One of the new girls at the tattoo shop volunteered to watch her table while she went for coffee. As she mulled over her current dilemma, unable to quite grasp what was happening. Lost in thought, she bumped into Damian. Damian looked like a burned-out cross between Jim Morrison and Iggy Pop, cute in a dead head burning man American gypsy sort of way. He traveled around the country, going to trip out festivals held in the middle of the desert. Mona immediately asked if he had a ride or if there was any way that he could help her get a ride home tonight. He didn’t own a car, but he did have a friend with a car. As they walked east on Ellum towards Cafe Brazil, he agreed to give her a ride home after she was finished for the evening. Damian told her his pack was at Insomnia, where he was crashing on the roof for the night. After they left the café, Mona sipped her snicker doodle coffee as they walked back down the streets of Deep Ellum towards her spot in front of the tattoo shop.

Damian suggested that they detour to smoke a joint before she went back to work. She followed him into Insomnia up the back stairs, behind the counter, up the stairs to the roof of the coffee shop. As they smoked out, she got into him as he talked excitedly about the meaning of life on the acid. Mona needed to make sure he didn’t leave without giving her a ride home tonight, so there was no question that she was going to suck it. She got down on her knees and hauled his ten inches out and worshipped this great big cock as if it were made of spirit. Mona gripped the shaft with both hands, folded around it as if she were in prayer, and she squeezed and pumped as hard as she could with her small hands, but it was too thick; her tiny hands couldn’t get a very good grip.

Mona looked up as the stars crowned his dirty blonde skull as she stroked and sucked and slobbered her prayers to his prick, she spun into his world. She wasn’t sure which was more uncomfortable, the pain in the back of her jaw as she tried to get her small mouth around the head that made her think that she was about to dislocate it when she felt something pop a ligament or a tendon, maybe she wasn’t sure, maybe she had torn a muscle. The pain ripped through her neck down her spine and seemed to be radiating throughout her entire body. If things were slow tonight, she might not even make enough cash to cover the cab ride home.

Mona didn’t want to have to blow some strange cabbie or any of the ones she had blown before who weren’t so strange. It never occurred to Mona that this was the first time she had seen Damian since she had introduced him to Aaron a few weeks ago at the reading. It should have come as no surprise when she felt his hand around her throat. Damian shoved her until she fell flat onto her back on his open sleeping bag, spread out on the gravel-covered roof.

With his free hand, he yanked up her dress and, without any preliminaries, rammed all ten inches of saliva-coated cock home. Mona was in so much pain that she nearly threw up. She tried to scream, but he was on top of her, his hand still around her throat so tight she could barely breathe. Nothing more than a whisper came out of her mouth as she whimpered futilely beneath him. He continued indifferent to her suffering, unmoved by her tears, only thrusting into her harder with more savagery. It wasn’t just that it was too long for her tiny cunt, but it was also too thick with its two and a half inch girth. She knew that on acid, he would not cum for a long time. Impaled, here she was trapped. There was nothing she could do now as he slammed his pelvis into her harder, with each depth-defying stroke.

It felt more like a beating than a fucking. She hadn’t had it this bad since her mother’s boyfriend first started tearing into her when she was barely thirteen. She could not speak, even though now he had grabbed her behind her knees and forced her legs up until her knees were on the ground on either side of her head, and he went deeper still. She could feel him inside of her, slamming against her insides. It hurt so much she wanted him to just hurry up and cum, but he couldn’t.

She wanted to tell him that it hurt. She wanted to tell him to stop, but the words would not come. What seemed to her like hours later, when he did finally come, he pulled his cock out of her raw, aching cunt, sat on her chest, grabbed a handful of her hair, and finished in her mouth fucking her face brutally. Jamming his hard-on as deep as he could down her gagging throat. Pounding his pelvic bone against her face so hard as he hammered his dick down her gullet that he bloodied her nose and top lip.

The hot bile surging up out of her guts combined with the spasming contractions of her vomiting throat did it for him, and finally, he ejaculated hot, thick, and heavy salvos of semen down her throat. The vomit, sperm, and mucus were coming out of her nose by now. He looked at her, finally satisfied, his contempt no longer masked, and smiled as it ran down over her top lip, thick and slimy as he pulled his dick, still slick with vomit, snot, and cum, out of her mouth. Damian stood up, put his dope fueled erection back into his jeans, and disappeared down the stairwell. He was finished with her. Mona managed to roll onto her side and curl up into the fetal position. She retched again, but this time the majority of it came out of her mouth. She watched mutely as Damian left.

She lay there alone on the deserted roof listening to the cacophony of voices, music, and cars floating up over the rooftops into the night air. After a while, she managed to stumble down the stairs to the bathroom, where she washed off in the sink. She cleaned the vomit, cum, and blood from her mouth, face, and hair, then she dabbed her raw crotch with a handful of wet paper towels and palms full of the cold water that she cupped in her hands. She hadn’t been this sore in ten years, not since the night she got in the car with the five high school football players from Mesquite, back when she was still living on the streets sucking cock for rocks. They beat her unconscious, then took turns raping her in the back seat of the car.

Jester was still behind the counter, hovering over the stale pastries under the tubes of fluorescing lights in the glass display next to the cash register. He busied himself chatting up a pair of high school chicks dressed in full punk rock regalia so new you could still see where the price tags had been attached this morning before they purchased their outfits at the mall. Mona, on wobbly legs, walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of bottomless coffee. Jester comped her the coffee as usual, and she left walking slowly westward towards downtown, back to her spot in front of the tattoo shop. A few hours later, having earned just enough money to pay her carfare home, she closed down for the night. Tommy, the tattoo shop owner, took her card table, folding chair, lights, and extension cords to a storage room in the back of the shop and called a cowboy cab for her.

When the taxi arrived, she realized that if she went home, she was going to have to fuck Nathan’s fat ass all night. He was drinking again, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to get out of it, not with him being so possessive lately and still having a place to stay. They were supposed to have an open relationship, but Nathan was too lazy to seek out other lovers. And he would have a difficult time locating a girl to share his peculiar brand of kink. Right now, she wished he would just find someone else to fuck, so she could get some sleep. There wasn’t enough money to check into a motel for the night. Besides, she didn’t have any identification, and she looked like she was thirteen, even though she was twenty-three. As the cabbie pulled onto Central Expressway, merging with the light northbound traffic, she changed her mind about going home.

She didn’t have any female friends, but she had become close with Aaron. Mona felt certain that if she went to his place, he wouldn’t mind if she crashed there for the night. After all, he lived with two gorgeous women, neither of whom helped him pay the rent or whom he had ever fucked. He was the kind of guy who was happy to be able to help out a friend with a vagina in need. Right now, that’s what she really needed, a friend. She asked the driver to stop at the next gas station so she could call Aaron; it would be a waste of money going over there if he wasn’t home. The Ethiopian cabbie took a quick look at her in the rear-view mirror, then passed her his cell phone. Mona muttered thanks as she dialed Aarons, silently praying that someone was home.

“Press the large white button on top, in the center, to turn it on, then press the green send button on the left after you have dialed your number.” Mona had never used a cell phone before. Aaron answered the phone after she started leaving a message on his machine.

Hey, sorry I didn’t pick up right away. I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, so I assumed it was some horny asshole calling for one of my roomies.

Can I come over?

Sure, I’m not doing anything, just working on some paintings.

ok. Mona gave the driver his phone and Aaron’s address. It was five miles closer than her apartment. Aaron heard a soft knock at the door less than ten minutes after he hung up the phone.

Damn, you must have been right around the corner when you called. Mona rushed into the apartment, throwing her arms around Aaron and hugging him hard. He hugged her too, more than just a little confused at such a warm greeting. They both tended to be rather aloof; most of their more gregarious associates mistook their reserved demeanor as their being somewhat sullen. This was the first time she had ever hugged him; neither of them considered it odd that they’d been having sex for over a year, but she’d never just given him a hug out of the blue. Aaron was glad she was in a good mood tonight. He’d been horny as hell all day, and her timing, coming over tonight, was perfect as far as he was concerned. It meant that he wouldn’t have to go out looking for someone to have sex with tonight.

I ordered pizza from Brothers; it should be here in less than half an hour. Do you want something to drink, coffee, soda, or juice, or something hard? Aaron picked up her art bin and her thick black leather case that held her jewelry in it display case from the ground just outside the door and set them down inside by the front door next to his desk before he closed the door. Mona followed him into the kitchen and finally said

Coffee sounds nice. Aaron turned on the electric grinder, the beans already in it, and after a minute or so of the whining sound of the electric motor and the grinding sound of coffee beans being crushed to a powder, he removed the amber colored plastic top and emptied the fresh ground coffee into the coffee maker. The kitchen air now filled with the aroma of exotic coffee beans.

There are tortilla chips and a bowl of picante on the table. He poured himself another frozen margarita from the pitcher he kept in the freezer, it could never freeze completely because he always made his margaritas with Everclear instead of tequila. Since he had no classes, Aaron had spent the entire day painting. He had gotten into the habit of drinking Everclear margaritas and smoking weed while he painted. Plus, he had been eating the magic mushrooms that his stripper roommate Ashlee, had given him after he had tripped with her and Vanessa last night. He hadn’t slept for two days, and he had been going at it painting since early this morning; it was now approaching midnight.

This is How the World Ends

“It’s hard to believe that there’s nobody out there It’s hard to believe that I’m all alone At least I have her love The city, she loves me Lonely as I am together we cry”

-The Red-Hot Chili Peppers

“This Is The End… My beautiful friend, the end…”

In the end everybody dies, nobody gets out of this alive”

-The Lizard King

Aaron wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely high; his speech wasn’t slurred, and because he drank slowly and ate small mushrooms regularly 4 hour intervals while he painted. He appeared to be perfectly normal in his outward appearance. Aaron hadn’t seen Mona since they had gone to Insomnia on Tuesday. They had spent the night silently screwing on her black futon while her fiancé snored loudly upstairs. After Nathan left for school the next morning, they spent the rest of the morning fucking noiselessly. They were both quite little fuckers.

Mona stood by the drafting table, the size of a twin-sized bed set up in the area between the living room and the kitchen, where in any traditional home a dining room table would be, looking at the new paintings that Aaron had been working on. These were part of a series he had been working on infrequently for some time now, reinterpreting the tarot major arcana. The paintings were on large sheets of watercolor paper, painted in psychedelic colors. He had been working on several of the ones she had posed for; twelve was her tied to a Capitol T-shaped cross with two anacondas entwined around her body, naked except for a golden crown, one serpent’s tail penetrating her vagina, and the other’s tail apparently was inserted into her anus as a third snake coiled at her feet looked on.

Thirteen showed the two of them nude mid coitus while a pagan priest stood over them, eight was a portrait of her standing on an island surrounded by black water with a human skull, a golden chalice, a dagger, an hourglass, and three candles on the ground surrounding the objects surrounding her on the sand at her feet. Five was another nude of her in the middle of a golden serpent eating its own tail she was being double penetrated by an angel and figure with the head of an eagle and the body of a man, while she sucked the cock of a pale skinned pot bellied figure with a bulls head and jacked off the gargantuan appendage of a figure with a lion’s head and a man’s body. Two was just the two of them again, as children pre-puberty making love in the middle of the rune for the sun.

Seventeen was her on her hands and knees, facing the viewer while death took her from behind. Fourteen was Aaron as a jade-skinned, winged demon standing majestically on a pedestal with her and a boy she didn’t recognize in black rubber gear, complete with red rubber bondage balls in their mouths, gagging them both, shackled to the obsidian pillar by leashes chained around their necks. Sixteen was a black woman flying over a graveyard with a bat’s leathery wings, blowing a trumpet with a firebrand in her other hand as Aaron arose from a crypt in the foreground beneath her, along with skeletons and the dead in various states of decay.

Mona wondered if Aaron had made love to all of the other girls and boys who modeled for him. She finally decided that he probably did. She found the idea of him with all of the others in the paintings arousing. She liked Aaron’s paintings; his style was something between Japanese woodblock prints and Edward Munch. It was highly stylized and deceptively primitive. His images seemed ancient, his symbols were simultaneously archaic and profoundly personal. The overall effect created a dark, menacing atmosphere despite the bright colors of his rather impressionistic palate, like Geiger, the one word that could acutely describe his paintings was disturbing.

It was nice to be here with him, free of the pressures of her world. She always felt safe with him. She was glad that he was home tonight. Mona felt as if she could relax in her friend’s apartment; the insanity of her day seemed light-years away. It was nice to be here in the home of someone she actually cared for deeply. She realized that her feelings for him had deepened, but still she didn’t know what to do next. She was never going to leave Nathan for Aaron, but a part of her wanted to believe that he would always be a part of her life. She felt as if she would always be close to Aaron, and she intuited that he felt the same way about her.

You want to burn one before the food gets here?

Sure. They walked over to the long cobalt blue sofa with chrome legs and trim on the sides and back of the frame and sat down with their drinks. There were several half-smoked blunts in the large flesh flesh-pink glazed ceramic zodiac ash tray, and a wooden cigar box was open next to it with a fresh blunt and several dozen joints rolled and stacked neatly in it next to a large plastic bag with the remainder of the weed in it.

Help yourself, baby girl, I gotta light another incense. Aaron lit one of the sticks of sage she had given him a few weeks ago then sat down next to her as she puffed on one of the joints Kelley had rolled last night while they were all tripping on ‘shrooms, each one was perfect as if it had been rolled by a machine but Mona knew that she had done it by hand, Kelley was sort of amazing in that way. The blunts meant that either his cousin Robbie or his younger brother Ernest had come by because Aaron never rolled blunts; he considered it a waste of good weed, which is why he generally preferred to smoke out of his dugout pipe. She smiled at how much she knew about him, while another part of her was becoming alarmed at the possibility that she might be allowing herself to fall for him. Impossible. She laughed at herself.

Neither one of us is stupid enough to take the other too seriously.

We’re just friends.

What’s the matter, kid? You look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet. He took a hit on the weed and waited for her to answer. It always took her a long time to verbalize. He was the same way when he was younger, so he was patient and waited for her to find her words.

I’ve just had a really long fucked up day. I guess…I’m just…I’m exhausted. Can I sleep here tonight? Will your roommates be ok with that?

Yeah, you can stay the night. Ashlee and Vanessa are both out for the evening, and I don’t expect to see either of them before the weekend’s over.

Good, I’m glad we’ll be alone for a change. Mona had never stayed the night at Aaron’s before; she had always promised Nathan that she would call him to come and pick her up after they were finished studying or painting. I have to call Nathan, so he won’t worry, and tell him I won’t be in tonight. She picked up the white cordless phone from the cradle on the bar and walked through the bedroom into the bathroom to call home.

Nathanial was pissed, but he still agreed to pick her up in the morning. When she came back from the bathroom, the pizza was on the coffee table instead of the stash box and ashtray. Aaron had put a movie in the VCR and was waiting for her before he started it. It was ‘the city of lost children’, she had never seen this one before, it was a delightfully bizarre film, and she found it a pleasant distraction as they ate. Mona’s jaw still ached, her throat was raw, and her pussy was so sore that it hurt to walk, but the weed made her not care. She finished eating, then stretched herself out on the long blue sofa, resting her head in Aaron’s warm lap. He seemed empathic as he reached down and gently massaged her jaw. They smoked the good weed, enjoying each other’s presence in the flickering light of the television screen. After the movie, they went into the bedroom, undressed, and climbed into his bed. Aaron began to rub her down with baby oil as she lay prone on the sofa sleeper that he had pulled out so they could both sleep on its bed. She was feeling a lot better than she had when she first arrived. When he tried to touch her between her legs, she closed them without explanation.

What’s the matter? Are you on your period?

No! Mona hissed through gritted teeth as she rolled over onto her back, still beneath him. I’m not on my fucking period! Everything that had happened today erupted out of her as she spat her rage at Aaron. The venom in her verbal tirade caught him entirely off guard.

Hey, what’s wrong, Mona?

I’ll tell you what’s wrong! She laughed humorlessly now, nearly hysterical as the anger seethed up in her. Every guy I’ve seen today has wanted me to get him off before he would do anything for me! First, I had to get Chucky under control after he gave me a ride to get supplies this morning. Then, as soon as I walk in the door, Nathan jumps on me, and because he’s been drinking, it takes forever for him to finish. Then Carlton refused to give me a ride downtown, and even after I got him under control, he just ditched me down there. Barely slowed the car down long enough for me to get out, then he drove off and left me stranded down there with no money for cab fare and no ride. Then I bumped into Damian and he promised he’d give me a ride, and it was a fucking ride, alright. It’s been a disaster, is what it was. I barely made enough money to pay the cabbie, and I only came over here to get some sleep.

Aaron had met all of those guys at the poetry readings or when they came by Nat’s apartment, and they were all some iteration of dork, geek, or nerd except Damian, who was a bit perma-fried from dosing on too much acid for too long. He was one of those neo hippy types, but Aaron at least liked him. He seemed more like himself than the other panty sniffing little pussies she kept on a string. He grasped that she must have had to have fucked them all at one time or another, but he didn’t care. He liked her because she liked to suck his dick, and she was kinda cute in a Juliet Lewis white trash sorta way. Her large eyes looked innocent, and he got off looking down into them while she had a mouth full of his dick. It was sick, but he didn’t give a fuck, she looked like a little girl then. Aaron understood but didn’t care as he asked rhetorically.

Are you mad at me about something?

No. She sighed.

Then why can’t we have sex?

How would you like it if some asshole put ten inches of cock into you and just rammed it home!?! Aaron wearied of trying to seduce Mona. Right now, he didn’t give a flying fuck about how sore her pussy was, or that Damian had raped her, or that her jaw was sore because it had been damned near dislocated by the thickness of the cocks she had to suck on all day. The only thing he cared about at this moment was getting off. He looked at the nude body of the girl lying beneath his naked body. He had been caressing her aching jaw and rubbing baby oil on her back, massaging her for the last half hour, and all he was thinking about was going up inside of her. Mona looked into his eyes with her eyes full of fear saw there was no way this was going to end until he fucked her. She was too tired to fight, so long as he didn’t try to fuck her up the ass again, she didn’t care. She was numb now, the pot had pulled her out of phase, her pelvis ached, her vulva was raw, and her labia were bruised. Aaron finished rubbing down her front as she lay there smoking the joint, trying to get as high as possible before it started. Previously, she had enjoyed their lovemaking, but everything had been going wrong all day. Mona felt powerless to control the men in her life the way she had been controlling them for years. She didn’t understand why. What had happened to them? Suddenly, they were all treating her as if she were nothing but some stupid, useless whore.

Please, let me sleep tonight, and I promise I’ll get you off in the morning before Nathan comes to pick me up. Aaron looked at her coldly without a molecule of compassion in his bright brown eyes.

Listen, baby, I am sorry, truly sorry, that you’re having so much trouble keeping your geek squad “under control” these days. On any other day, at any other time, I might even let you have it your way, but not tonight. Tonight I’m fucking yo’ goofy ass and that’s all that there is to it. If I go to sleep, which I doubt, I’m gonna bust a nut in your mouth before your fiancé brings his punk ass over here in the morning, so that dick sucker by proxy can have a little taste too. You can start screaming now if you want, or try to get away or put up a fight. I like to fight. But, make no mistake, you can’t play me the way you play the rest of them fools, so it’s up to you. You want to do it the easy way, or we can try the other. Mona looked at his lean, muscular brown body straddling her pale thighs; his erection stood out menacingly in front of him as she spread her legs.

It’s really sore down there, so take it easy this time, please. Ignoring her sobbing, Aaron slammed his cock into her in one long, merciless stroke. She orgasmed as he ruthlessly tore into her tenderized sex fucking her brutally all night.

The ringing phone woke him in the morning. Aaron knew before he answered that it was Nat calling for Mona. Yeah, just a sec, she’s still asleep, hang on a minute. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her firmly as he called her name, telling her to wake up and answer the phone. When Mona finally awakened, blinking groggily eyes unfocused, she rolled over facing him. He handed her the phone. Aaron climbed out of the bed, headed to the kitchen to get a drink of the hair of the dog. She said that

Nathan will be here in about an hour. Come on, let’s get a shower. She took Aaron by the hand and led him into the bathroom. They showered together, taking turns soaping each other’s bodies with the white bar of Ivory. Why didn’t she hate him for what he did to her last night? She knew that he could be a real nasty son of a bitch at times. He had no pretenses; he was without self-delusion, unlike the rest of the guys that she knew. Mona couldn’t fool him; he knew exactly what she was, and he desired her anyway. She liked him more than she ever had anyone other than herself. They stepped out of the shower, stood next to the tub in front of the toilet, facing each other in the small bathroom without speaking, and they began drying each other with the plush, deep blue, terrycloth towels before they dressed in the same clothes they had been wearing last night. Mona squeezed out a dab of toothpaste onto the end of her index finger, then began to brush her teeth with her fingertip.

Aaron stood beside her, looking at their distorted reflection in the large steam-covered mirror over the sink before grabbing his toothbrush and brushing his own teeth as well. He realized that last night was the first time that she had ever stayed the night at his place. The coffee maker was set on a timer to begin brewing the coffee an hour before Aaron usually woke up and began to get ready for work. Mona exited the bathroom to see if there was anything to snack on for breakfast in the kitchen there was plenty of food in the fridge but there was nothing that she wanted to eat so she decided that breakfast could wait she poured herself a cup then sat on the couch drinking her coffee listening to Nirvana’s ‘Pretty Hate Machine’ on the gigantic stereo speakers as they waited for her fiancé’s arrival.

Aaron sat on the sofa beside her, drinking the slushy remains of the margarita he’d poured himself before they showered.

About last night, you know that…

Shut up, Aaron. You’re the asshole when you’re drunk, deal with it.

Yeah, but it’s got nothing to do with being drunk. Mona scooted over on the sofa until they were shoulder to shoulder. You know what I don’t understand about you? Why do you put up with me? She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

I’ve always liked you. You remember the picture I showed you once of my mom?

The one where she’s holding you and Nina when you’re both just babies.

I’ll tell you a secret. You’re the only person other than my mom who can tell us apart when we were kids. It’s because you really look at everything. She set her cup down on the end table. Mona leaned against him until her head rested on his shoulder. I know what guys are like. She unzipped his paint-splattered kakis. I like having you in my life. Sometimes it’s worth it for me to do you, she pulled his hardening cock out, to keep you around. Aaron smiled the way you do when a kitten shows you its little claws.

You’re so cool, you look like that actress in the Bergman film ‘Summer with Monica’. Do you know the movie?

I’ve never seen a Bergman movie.

Film. Pity. Easing herself down onto the carpet, she crawled on her knees until she was between Aaron’s legs. He slid his hips forward until his ass was on the edge of the sofa as Mona wrapped her lips firmly around the head and began to blow him. Aaron slouched back on the sofa and watched her go to work, enjoying the voyeuristic thrill as her head bobbed slowly up and down over the half of the shaft that she didn’t have her hand wrapped around. She kept her eyes open, looking up into his eyes the entire time. Aaron felt his heart rate quickening as he got into the image of her with her mouth softly sucking him into her, but he knew he would have to hurry to finish before her old man got here.

Shit, girl, I ain’t never gonna cum like that. He put his hand around her hand on his shaft and squeezed so hard it hurt her fingers. Then he began to guide her strokes with his hand over hers while she kept the cock head in her mouth, tickling the prick lips with flicks of her tongue. Here it comes, little girl. He growled as he ejaculated into her mouth. She swallowed, making an obscene wet slurping noise, trying not to let any escape her mouth as Nathan knocked at the door. She continued sucking, taking the length into her mouth.

Just a minute! Aaron shouted. I’m coming. Mona wiped the little bit of spit mixed with semen that had run out of one corner of her mouth back into her mouth with her finger tips and then cleaned her fingers with her tongue. She squeezed the shaft and stroked it a little more until a small translucent pearl of semen was perched on the bright pink lips of his penis. She looked up at him as she smeared the last drop on like lip gloss before she got up off her knees and walked across the living room towards the door. Aaron sat up, shoved his dick back into his pants, and zipped up his trousers before he lit another Newport 100. Then fired up a joint as Mona opened the door for her fiancé. Nat greeted Mona with a long kiss, swabbing the depths of her mouth with his tongue as if this was somehow proof that she was actually his woman before he entered Aaron’s apartment.

Aaron sat leaning back, relaxed on the couch, his long legs spread wide, the thick bulge of his cock hanging heavy, prominent in the crotch of the thin fabric of the kakis. He exhaled a long, blue-gray plume of weed smoke as he passed Nat the joint. Aaron observed him with a calculated ease as Nat puffed on the doobie. Mona stood behind Nathan, mischievously peeking over his shoulder at Aaron. That is one twisted, sick little slut.

Are you still coming by tonight? She asked as she headed out the door.

Sure, I’ll give you a call later this evening. Nat handed the doobie back to Aaron, then turned and picked up Mona’s gear sitting on the floor by the desk as he followed her out the door. Aaron got up, closed the door, and turned the deadbolt after they left his apartment. Alone with his thoughts, he continued to puff on the joint occasionally as he sat back down on the sofa smoking his morning square. If my old lady treated me the way she treats him, I’d pull a fucking OJ on her skanky ass. Aaron removed the unregistered twenty-two caliber pistol from his right front pocket and set it down on the coffee table by his stash box, before he got up and returned to his painting.

-about the author JD Cloudy’s poetry has disappeared in the literary journals: Fatfizz, Mad Swirl, Texas Beat Anthology, Danse Macabre, Du Jour, and Death List Five. He has won no literary awards, entered no slam competitions, and never completed college. He lives to write in Dallas, TX.