How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) š
Book online Ā«How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) šĀ». Author Sullivan, Michel
Anyway, I saw that dog gettinā knocked around by one of his kids -- this nasty little fuck named George -- anā it bit him. I laughed when I saw it; I mean, the little fuck deserved it. But when his asshole father found out what happened, he pulled out a pistol anā shot the dog as it cowered in a corner. Then after he dropped us off at the bus station the next morninā, he went off to get another one.
I asked my mom why heād be allowed to do that, anā she snapped, āWhat the fuck do you care? We got our own shit to worry about.ā
I used to have nightmares about that dog. Till I finally caught on to what my mom was talkinā about anā started actinā on it. Right about the time my mom decided she wanted to change her life. Too late for that, for me, though. But then I met Connie, anā sheās the one who brought me back to humanity. For a little while, anyway.
I met her at this rave downtown. I was the promoterās main connection for āXā -- ecstasy for those who aināt payinā attention -- anā I was sellinā off some extra tabs for a nice little profit in the mosh pit. I never did that crap, myself; it was too much fun watchinā all the neon glow sticks anā pacifiers swirlinā in the darkness. Lots of slim sweaty boys anā slick hot girls twistinā āround anā glidinā into each other while some overpaid DJ dropped tunes. That promoter was a cheap bastard; he never had live bands. Besides, if I had gotten wasted it wouldāve been way too easy to get into the rhythm of the night, anā Iād probably have wound up givinā the crap away to keep the joy goinā. Anā I mightāve missed seeinā her. Seeinā Connie standinā stock still in the middle of all those fuckinā gorgeous guys anā girls. No glow stick. No pacifier. Just a bottle of water anā little smile on her face as she watched āem dance. God, she looked hot.
I swung over to her, but she saw me cominā anā raised a finger at me. āNot for me, buddy; I gotta work, tomorrow.ā
āWasnāt gonna offer,ā I said -- even though I really was, as a way of gettinā tā talk with her. āJust wanted to ask you to dance.ā
She looked at me, real tight. āYouāre straight.ā
āIn every way.ā
āI meant youāre not flying.ā
āAnā I meant in every way.ā
She looked me over anā nodded. I aināt gonna be fake anā modest, here; I knew I looked good. I wasnāt as built up as I am now, but I was done up okay. Anā I could see from her eyes she saw me as a one-nighter, someone over for a quickie. Which was fine with me.
So we danced anā did the bullshit thing. She was workinā on a cheap-assed indie flick in Venice, some soft-porn thing for the European video market. I got the hint that sheād watched some of the shootinā anā got horny from it. I told her I was open to doinā somethinā like that. She told me the pay sucked. I told her I was workinā at beinā a contractor, do roofinā repair anā shit. Which was bull anā she knew it, but she didnāt give a fuck. She took me home to her place anā we found out just how perfect we were for each other, that night. Holy shit, did we find out. She had to go to work with maybe two hours sleep, but she went purrinā, lemme tell ya.
I moved in with her two weeks later, anā we got married two months after that. Anā for three years, it was cool. Shit, it was perfect. She got herself out of the soft-porn crap anā into some pretty damn good indie flicks. āThings thatāre being made by the mini-majors,ā as she put it. Anā me, I got into the paintinā gig, doinā houses anā small buildinās anā workinā on sets when Connie referred me. Anā we fucked every night anā loved it. Loved it till I got busted for doinā a buddy a favor.
Guy named Terrence, who asked me to cart a couple bags of coke to a friend of his. Iād done it before, so I figured no big deal. Only Terrenceād been busted anā was workinā the cops to cut down on his time inside, anā he was turninā over anybody anā everybody heād ever worked with, me included. So I got grabbed with two kilos of coke in my backpack anā was handed a sentence of eight to twenty for possession with intent to distribute. The asshole. I made sure word got into his mini-security facility that he was a skunk. I hear his time inside was made wonderful by those who could do it to him, anytime.
Shit, fuckinā Terrence. Thereās another asswipe Iād like to take care of. Not like I was gonna do with this bet; that fuck was too fuckinā skanky for me to even think about it.
Anā donāt start thinkinā Iām a racist. Me not wantinā to fuck Terrenceās got nothinā to do with his color; itās got to do with the fact that heās an ugly fuck anā had some kind of prejudice against bathinā moreān once a year. I donāt care what race a guy is, so long as he looks decent anā keeps himself clean. Anā such.
I mean, I once wondered what itād be like to do my thing with a famous black actor, youād know him I said his name, if he wound up inside. He looked like heād be fun anā frisky. Not that Iād even really thought of tryinā tā connect with him on the outside
Comments (0)