Wednesday, 19 July 2017

Arsehole Paradise: Loving It Up

"Want to come in for a bit?" her arsehole says.

I know I'm a fool for rushing in, but I'm in love. Yeah, I know, what the fuck? It's true though. And you know why? No sense of disgust whatsoever. It's like this germophobia never even existed. And so here I am. At her place, spread out on the Queen Size, smooching Amber's rim. Yes, not just fingering it. Not just prepping it for you know what. I'm French-kissing it like it's an actual mouth. There's no difference anymore. Oh, how I yearn for those lips to suck me up, let that hole engulf me and send me right into her very core. Her Hello-Kitty sisters cannot help but gape at my secret confession. I'm really going out of my way here. For starters, birds usually come to mine.

The purple, frilled ring pulsates, beckoning me to enter like it's the most natural thing to do. It makes so much sense though. I mean what are we waiting for? I've already caressed every inch of her pure skin, fucked every gorgeous hole. What's better than when two become one?

My tongue sinks into her canal. The abyss latches on and reels me in. I turn into jello as I thrash-dive into the pink sewers. Fuck, I forgot to take a deep breath. It's O.K. The momentary alarm about choking brushed away by the fine fur of the entry passage. One gasp and I'm breathing again, like a reborn. I'm all in. So incredibly intimate. The muffled sound of a chuckle makes the tunnel quiver. I guess all that slithering must tickle my baby.

Behind the flimsy, translucent arched walls a marvellous aquatic cosmos of forever-changing shapes and colours. Temporarily blocking out the solar rays of the red pearl, massive, spongy bodies waltz by, their droopy almond peepers wide open. One whips out his suckers to glue himself onto my window. What an inquisitive and friendly fella. We've only got a few moments before the strong galactic current rips him away again. Blowing kisses at me, swaying his massive dome-head from side to side. That's all he does. And then he's gone. Tender tentacles waving goodbye. Like giving up a kite to the wind, I'm crushed. But no time to mourn because this ride ain't stopping. So rapid and tortuous it goes on. And on. No idea how much time passes before my eyes catch the smudged ridges of mountains.

"Hey, sweety! Where are you taking me?" I say, each word only becoming audible when the speech bubbles burst. One after the other and in a completely random order and pitch, producing the most bizarre gobbledygook.

This is an awfully long trip, and I start to worry about finding my way back. What if she's a nutter after all? Nah, not her. She'll guide me. She has to. I mean, I'm the one stuck up her bottom! But how would she know I want out? We didn't agree on a safety word.

"You're counterdependent" Dr. Strucks, my analyst used to say.

She's right. Still a fucking control freak! But no more! I trust her. She's in the driver's seat now.

We arrive at the base of the pearlescent giant. Like music a stream of glitter trickles down its slippery slope. Strings of guts tie me into a neat little package. Maybe a bit too tight. I'm no sardine you know. Mustn't grumble though. Safety's got to come first. Don't fancy myself falling off this ride. And then with a jolt, it's lift-off. I say lift-off because it's almost a vertical climb and my belt's quickly cutting into my flesh. The mechanical rattle of this contraption seems out of place. And what's with the white noise? Where's it coming from? Maybe those nebulous ponds? Teeming with caramels, chocolates and cotton candies, a great swarm approaches, extending the reach of its gaseous abode. So greedy and hard do they peck at the flimsy screen. Sorry, guys. Got no fodder. But they're not here to feed. Hundreds of silver foil wrappers frantically point towards the noisy peak. I don't get it until we stop at the very top. That's where I join the others.

A circle of sad and ugly-looking bundles of jelly turds. Whincing and whining at the lagoon that lies beneath. The electric hiss, unbearable. How pathetic! I'm calm. Unfazed. Probably because I'm the oldest of the lot. The most mature, and confident. In my 20s this would have killed me. I'm in my 40s now, and immune. So what if she's seeing other guys? How does that affect what we have? I fuck around, and that's that. We've got love, man! That's the only thing that matters! Damn, if only I had told her earlier. How I wish to be shat out right now so I can tell her. And with that, right on cue, she sets the whirlpool in motion. I guess my darling's heard me alright, and one by one she drops her lovers into the turquoise vortex. From my front-row seat I witness every splash and sizzle. Some sort of acid, judging from the foul puffs of smoke. What a sacrifice! Much more powerful than just deleting your profile on Tinder or Badoo. She didn't have to do all that.

"I love you!" I cry, and then I fall.

Written by Dom Ritter & T. Lewis

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