Tag: oral sex

  • To Suck or Not To Suck

    Sham Rock walked up to Pumpkinhead and studied him only an inch away from his face, feeling Pumpkinhead’s face with his hands like a blind man reading brail, as if Pumpkinhead were an inanimate object or a painting being observed by an artist. “What’s the matter with you, Pumpkinhead? You look spaced out.”

    “Fuckin’ high on angel dust, bro. I’m buggin’.”

    “You gotta be careful messin’ around with that stuff. It’ll kill ya you know.”

    “Yeah man, I can dig it,” was all Pumpkinhead could say.

    “Where’s Nicki? Why didn’t she give you guys a ride?”

    “She threw us out of the car after Mahdakis over here called here a fat little cocksucker.”

    “What’s wrong with being a cocksucker?”

    “Huh?”

    “Nicki, I’m talking about. Why would she be upset with being called a cocksucker?” Sham Rock asked.

    “Yeah, what’s her problem anyway?” said Rizzo. “I love it when people call me a cocksucker. Especially when it’s a complete stranger driving by and I’m standing on the side of the road with a large group of friends……Or better yet, family members.”

    “Family members call you cocksucker?”

    “That’s not right.”

    “Oh it’s fine. They do it all the time! In fact, that’s how they address my birthday cards. ‘So, you’re one year older….Happy Birthday Cocksucker’.

    Ignoring Rizzo’s sarcasm, Dakota suggested, “Maybe it was because you called her a fat cocksucker.”

    “Girls don’t like being called fat,” said Kim.

    “Yeah…that’s a real sticking point.”

    “Cocksucker’s one thing,” Kim lectured on, “but to call a woman fat…well that’s just asking for a beating.”

    Ignoring them all, Sham Rock continued, “But being called a cocksucker only means that she’s useful and well liked.”

    “It’s derogatory, man.”

    “Derogatory shmogatory. Isn’t sucking someone’s dick a nice thing?”

    “Sure is,” Tony Ravioli said, bobbling his head. Bobble-bobble-bobble- “Why, you feel like being nice right about now?”

    “You’re a wise-ass too, Tony. You and Rizzo are made for each other.”

    “And it’s good for the environment,” Pumpkinhead said.

    “And fun for the whole family!”

    “That’s disgusting. What’s the matter with you anyway, Rizzo? And Sham, why the fuck are you asking this?”

    “Contemplating a career change?”

    “Shut the fuck up, Bobby. You too, Riz.” Sham Rock turned and studied Mahdakis. “And I don’t know what the hell you’re thinkin’ about over there, but I don’t like that grin on your face. Somethin’ tells me I should bust your head wide open right now.”

    “But then you’ll never know.”

    “Never know what?”

    “What I was thinking.”

    “Ah-ha! So you were thinking!”

    Mahdakis took a puff off his Tijuana Small cigar. “It happens.”

    “Sometimes.” –Bobble-bobble-bobble. Tony observed Mahdakis’ eyes squinting as he took the thin cigar out of his mouth. They had been together for too many years for Tony not to recognize that he was about to go into one of his lame, self-serving comedy routines. Tony also knew it a signal for him to step into sidekick mode.

    Mahdakis said, “Most likely, a long time ago, it was someone whose last name was cocksucker.”

    “Someone who lived in a small village…” -Bobble-bobble-bobble

    “Marseille, France, perhaps.”

    “…or just outside of…”

    “…where she was considered a…”

    “…or he…”

    “…or he was considered a cheat or a liar.”

    “Or someone who did the job only half way.”

    “Which then of course begs to ask the question, which came first, the cock or the cocksucker?”

    “The cock came first. The cock always comes first.”

    Dakota broke their routine and said solemnly, “I always thought it was because they tease you by giving you oral until you’re hard and then leave, never finishing you off, or letting you fuck them. And that’s why people hate cocksuckers.”

    “Oh.”

    “Well sure, then there’s that.”

    “Makes sense to me.”

    “Mm.”

    “Hey, what would life be like if we greeted each other like dogs?”

    “We probably wouldn’t French kiss that much.”

    “Do dogs give oral?”

    “Not to other dogs.”

    “So who do they give it to?”

    “People.”

    “People?”

    “Yeah, I seen that in a movie or two once,” said Frank.

    “Jesus, what a fuckin’ perv you are, man,” Polly laughed.

    “How could you have seen it once if you saw it in two different movies?”

    “Maybe it was the same scene.”

    “Doesn’t matter. He still would’ve seen it twice.”

    “What the fuck kind of movies are you renting, Frank?”

    “Regular kinds.”

    “Regular, my ass.”

    Shake-shake-shake, (Inhale-exhale) “I got shit loads of those kinds of movies, Frank….a lot of cool imports from Germany and whatnot.” (Inhale-exhale) “Grandmas and black dudes, dominate fat chicks with submissive oriental business men, hot teens in locker rooms, gay bikers on acid, famous athletes who worship feet while masturbating, big-titted blondes with horses, midgets who eat shit,” (inhale) “you name it. I’m watching one at home right now called Anal in the Antarctic. It’s about an Eskimo love triangle.” (exhale) “If you ever wanna borrow something, just let me know.”

    © 2016 Mark Rogers

    Book Cover for Paradise in Purgatory
    Paradise In Purgatory (Book IV)

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  • Taking It For Face Value

     

    Black Tom inhaled the joint and lazily looked over at Pock, the owner of a weathered crater face. “So why do they call you Pock? Is that a Texas kind of thing?”

    Mahdakis and Tony were silent, eyeballing one another trying to make the best of an uncomfortable moment.

    Pock spoke softly, “Nah man, it’s ’cuz a my face and whatnot.” Pock’s hand waved over his face suggestively as his eyes lowered to the ground. “You know?”

    “That’s just from bad acne at one point in time. You can cure that you know.”

    “Yea, how? Cut his head off?” Tony laughed.

    “That wouldn’t be much fun, now would it?” Black Tom got up and walked into the bathroom. When he returned, he was holding a jar in his right hand and was mixing its contents with a wooden spoon, held in his left. “What you need, is to dab just a little of this on your face every morning and at night just before bed. It’ll do miracles.” Black Tom knelt down in front of Pock and was about to poke his face with the pointy end of a feather.

    “Hey man, what duh fuck is dat, mane? Ya’ll gone fuckin’ bonkers er sumpin’? Don’t touch me wit dat crap.”

    “It’s okay,” Black Tom retreated politely, “it’s just a facial concoction that rejuvenates the skin by going deep into the pores and replenishing any facial blemishes back to their original state. You’ll be a better looking guy in no time, just trust me on this one. There’s nothing in here that you don’t ingest into your body anyway, or nothing that isn’t all natural.”

    “Wut duh fuck iz it, ’zactly?”

    “It’s two parts strained mud water, one-part chicken blood, with a drop of vanilla extract and a sprinkle of crushed lavender pedals; about a teaspoon or more.”

    “Say what?”

    “Just grab a handful or two of mud and put it in a colander, spaghetti strainer or whatever, and let the water strain out into a bowl or something; maybe do this overnight because it’s gonna take a long time.”

    “Okay. Where do I find sum ’dat chicken blood?”

    “Just a fresh chicken from the grocery store will do. You know, before you cook it, reserve the blood in a container of some sort, but don’t let it sit around for more than a week in the fridge, or it’s no good.”

    “Fresh chicken; got it.”

    “And the pedals you can purchase at any florist of course. But this is the important part.” Black Tom moved in towards Pock’s face, holding the feather like a pen. “You must apply just a little bit with the tip of an authentic ostrich feather, as the ostrich is rich in particular enzymes that disperse from the feather stem when mixed with the other proper ingredients.”

    “Enzymes, yeah…I heard ah doze.”

    “Then apply the ointment like this.” Black Tom began touching Pock’s face lightly with the tip of the feather, and drew what felt to Pock like, imaginary lines; one under his right eye and then one on his left cheek. “This will go into your skin’s pours directly and sit festering, adding essential vitamins and minerals to the under layers. That’s it. Don’t apply any more than that. The next time you do this however, apply the ointment in two different spots.”

    “Which ones?”

    “Wherever you like. Just mix it up and don’t go over the same area too often. Then when you’ve done that…” Black Tom turned the feather around and began brushing Pock’s entire face with the feather end, “…give yourself a quick brushing like so. When you give it a brush like this, you are brushing any excess of those vitamins and minerals that may have not gone into your skin and spread them over your face where they won’t do much, but what little they do, will heal, and not go to waste by dripping on the floor.”

    “Vitamins and Min’rals…those are good tings.”

    “Yes they are, and so are ostrich feathers. That is why it is very, very, very, important that you use an authentic ostrich feather, like so, and not a fake one or any other type of feather. Do you understand?”

    “Yeah…authentic.”

    “Right, and since they’re hard to find, I’ll give you this one. There’s a little place down in the village here where I can get more.”

    “Can you eat ’em too?”

    “The feathers?”

    “Ostrich. Do you eat ’em?”

    “Personally I don’t eat any meat at all unless it’s between a woman’s legs, and even then I’m known to be a bit stingy. But I’ve heard that it is quite a delicacy in other countries.”

    “Pussy?”

    “No, Ostrich.”

    © 2013, 2014 Mark Rogers

    Front Cover for Benevolence & Betrayal (book 3)
    Benevolence & Betrayal
    (Book III)
    Front Cover for In Case You Were Too Stoned to remember cover
    In Case You Were Too Stoned
    (A Retrospective)

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

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