life of me remember.
“You about done back there,” I say over my shoulder.
Carrie pauses and says, “Waiting on you, fuckhead.” Then she resumes.
As soon as she dives back in, I feel pressure. It’s not external, but something deep inside. A rumble from within, like the demons I’ve been carrying with me have decided to wake up and make some noise. What I first thought was guilt and anxiety has turned to something more.
“Um…”
No one says a thing but Mongo grabs one of the cameras off a tripod. He moves to the wall like he’s getting out of the way. This should strike me as strange but I’m more concerned with the build up of pressure very quickly making its way from my innards toward my outards. Is that a word, outards? Fuck it, I don’t know and I don’t care. Something big is about to go down.
“Uh… Carrie?”
She halts her trombone playing and says, “What, are you finally going to cum so I can stop this?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to put this, but something’s coming, alright.”
Despite how much I hate this woman right now, there are still some things I would not consider doing to her, out of anger or spite or revenge or whatever. Things I would not do to any human being, because they’re just not right. Like farting in someone’s face. I would not do that on purpose because it’s just not kosher. And yes, I realize how hypocritical that sounds considering my recent history. I’m complicated, what can I say?
But I’m being completely truthful when I say I don’t fart in Carrie’s face on purpose. It really is an accident. She doesn’t see it that way.
“OH, YOU DICK!”
She jumps off the bed and wipes at her face, but I’m already past her and headed for the bathroom. Something dire is happening to me at this moment and I have very little time left. I race for the toilet and jump on the seat, ready to expel whatever it is that’s trying to blast forth from me, but Mongo is there, waiting in the bathroom.
“Dude, get the fuck out of here! I’m about to explode.”
“No, hold it in,” he says. “Bitch, get in here!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? My colon is about to burst here. Get the fuck out before I – ”
I don’t get further than that. Mongo smacks me in the chin with the back of his hand and I nearly careen off the stool. When I right myself, he’s in my face, pressing the blade of his huge hunting knife against my cheek.
“You are homosexual, show me ass control. Hold it in or I will make you wish you had.”
He turns to the door and yells, incredibly loud and right in my ear, “BITCH, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!”
Carrie appears in the doorway with a look of repulsion on her face.
“You prick, you splattered me.”
She’s wiping at her chin and I notice, amid the remaining stars in my field of vision from Mongo’s blow, three brownish dots on her forehead. I’m a little dazed and trying real hard to keep from shitting my brains out lest Mongo gut me like a fish, but I realize what those brown dots are. I don’t know what else to say other than a weak, “Sorry.”
Mongo points at me and says to Carrie, “Back on knees, whore. Time for blumpkin .”
•
A few minutes later, I’ve regained my bearings. During the time in between, Carrie assumed the position, took me into her mouth, and we both waited for Mongo to get the camera ready. When he pointed at us, Carrie began sucking and I let the floodgates open.
This is the blumpkin . Who the fuck comes up with this shit?
Like I said, it takes me a couple minutes, but I feel a little better, especially after I’ve filled the toilet with some of the most noxious stuff that’s ever come out of me. I wonder if I’m coming down with the stomach flu or something, then it hits me.
“Hey, Mongo, what was that pill you gave me back in the car?”
Mongo pushes a button on the camera, I’m assuming the pause button, and says, “Pill was Viagra. Drink was fast-acting laxative.” He
“You about done back there,” I say over my shoulder.
Carrie pauses and says, “Waiting on you, fuckhead.” Then she resumes.
As soon as she dives back in, I feel pressure. It’s not external, but something deep inside. A rumble from within, like the demons I’ve been carrying with me have decided to wake up and make some noise. What I first thought was guilt and anxiety has turned to something more.
“Um…”
No one says a thing but Mongo grabs one of the cameras off a tripod. He moves to the wall like he’s getting out of the way. This should strike me as strange but I’m more concerned with the build up of pressure very quickly making its way from my innards toward my outards. Is that a word, outards? Fuck it, I don’t know and I don’t care. Something big is about to go down.
“Uh… Carrie?”
She halts her trombone playing and says, “What, are you finally going to cum so I can stop this?”
“Well, I’m not sure how to put this, but something’s coming, alright.”
Despite how much I hate this woman right now, there are still some things I would not consider doing to her, out of anger or spite or revenge or whatever. Things I would not do to any human being, because they’re just not right. Like farting in someone’s face. I would not do that on purpose because it’s just not kosher. And yes, I realize how hypocritical that sounds considering my recent history. I’m complicated, what can I say?
But I’m being completely truthful when I say I don’t fart in Carrie’s face on purpose. It really is an accident. She doesn’t see it that way.
“OH, YOU DICK!”
She jumps off the bed and wipes at her face, but I’m already past her and headed for the bathroom. Something dire is happening to me at this moment and I have very little time left. I race for the toilet and jump on the seat, ready to expel whatever it is that’s trying to blast forth from me, but Mongo is there, waiting in the bathroom.
“Dude, get the fuck out of here! I’m about to explode.”
“No, hold it in,” he says. “Bitch, get in here!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? My colon is about to burst here. Get the fuck out before I – ”
I don’t get further than that. Mongo smacks me in the chin with the back of his hand and I nearly careen off the stool. When I right myself, he’s in my face, pressing the blade of his huge hunting knife against my cheek.
“You are homosexual, show me ass control. Hold it in or I will make you wish you had.”
He turns to the door and yells, incredibly loud and right in my ear, “BITCH, GET THE FUCK IN HERE!”
Carrie appears in the doorway with a look of repulsion on her face.
“You prick, you splattered me.”
She’s wiping at her chin and I notice, amid the remaining stars in my field of vision from Mongo’s blow, three brownish dots on her forehead. I’m a little dazed and trying real hard to keep from shitting my brains out lest Mongo gut me like a fish, but I realize what those brown dots are. I don’t know what else to say other than a weak, “Sorry.”
Mongo points at me and says to Carrie, “Back on knees, whore. Time for blumpkin .”
•
A few minutes later, I’ve regained my bearings. During the time in between, Carrie assumed the position, took me into her mouth, and we both waited for Mongo to get the camera ready. When he pointed at us, Carrie began sucking and I let the floodgates open.
This is the blumpkin . Who the fuck comes up with this shit?
Like I said, it takes me a couple minutes, but I feel a little better, especially after I’ve filled the toilet with some of the most noxious stuff that’s ever come out of me. I wonder if I’m coming down with the stomach flu or something, then it hits me.
“Hey, Mongo, what was that pill you gave me back in the car?”
Mongo pushes a button on the camera, I’m assuming the pause button, and says, “Pill was Viagra. Drink was fast-acting laxative.” He
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