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“Oh yeah…”
“Agh fuck! So…good.”
“To think that we met on the inter-”
“Shut the fuck up or mew!” a backhand: my powdered cheek, Kevin’s disgruntled paw (wedding ring removed).
“Mew…”
“…fuck…”
“…mew,” I shut my eyes, gazing into the euphoria washing over my body and no longer conscious of the mew-metronome keeping time under Kevin’s grunting thrusts. Minutes pass, slaps of flesh filling in for the clock’s tick. My cascading ecstasy surges like the sea, hurling everything I’ve ever known into new territory; new shores, a new world.
“…mew.”
“Do you like being fucked by a Republican man?”
“…m-meow…”
“Here.”
“…ohhh…”
“Look at my muscles.”
“…ohhh…”
“Look at all of this goddamn muscle,” another slap from Kevin forces my eyes open. But I cannot see Kevin; Kevin is no longer here. Awash in my own emerald seas of pleasure, I find an island. And on the island, I find him. He steps towards me and I plop to my knees like fallen water. I need not get up: he comes over me and gently takes me right there on the beach; so unlike Kevin.
He is the one I feel. His pale moonish belly ripples in the motion of slapping against my firmer, darker body. He kisses me from neck to earlobe. He draws me in close, panting and looking at me with those eyes that kind of do this o_O and whispers, “If you were feathered I’d photograph you.”
I shut my eyes and instead of stars I see a particolored flurry of wings in flight and I cum violently, feeling like a girl stinking beneath sweat-laden sheets, dissolving into tears. Always too soon, he fades away again: the island oasis disperses and the ocean drains and the world rearranges itself around me, placing Kevin back where he was before. It must be near noon. If it’s noon in America, what day of the week is it in Australia? If only the sea would carry me…
Kevin finally climaxes, and the fear returns. In a stupor of crablike movement I shimmy up and over for the rag. I find a soft spot but don’t wipe off. Everything will be alright, I tell myself. Just do as he says.
“The fuck you stalling for? Wipe.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wipe off and toss the rag to him. He'll demand a drink now. Always.
“Whisky, Hell.”
“My name is Hal…”
“Whisky. Hell.”
“My name is-”
And Kevin jumps to me, knocking me down. Grabbing my hair he slams my head into the hardwood floor. I scream but hear only shattering glass. A warmth comes over my forehead: I must be bleeding now. Kevin spits on my blood and hits me again. He clutches my throat and chokes me. I shut my eyes. The ocean returns but is now colorless; and I am drowning. The pain from each successive blow to my head numbs into unreality. I believe in God I believe in God I believe in God I believe in
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