nosferatu’s nectar. She had some coke on her person. We were quite fucked-up. She looked splendid without her clothes: oh-so-very-pale skin, not ravished by the sun. She said she hated the sun. Her skin was so smooth, couldn’t fathom it was real. She had dyed her pubic hair purple as well. I went down on her; she had an odd taste I could not place – not bad, just peculiar. She said come on baby fuck me. Bauhaus was on the stereo, “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” – how quaint, how perfect. She reached to take my hands in hers as we fucked, her legs spread out, breasts flat on her chest, nipples pinkish-brown. I kneeled by the side of the bed, taking her; she sat up some, nipples now erect, lips smeared in black, eyes Egyptian, purple hair tangled everywhere across her face amp;shoulders. I wanted to change positions. I turned her over. She asked if I was going to sodomize her. I said I didn’t have any plans but I would if she wanted me to. She said that’s the only way I can really get off. I spread her cheeks, looked, saw this was no virgin flower bud here, it opened so easily, the width of it, so I slipped in, using the lubricants from her cunt, and she cried OH YES and reached down to whack-off her clit, coming instantly. After fifteen minutes of this, she must have read my mind, she knew I was going to shoot soon, she said don’t come in me baby I want to suck you off. I lay on the purple bed and she took me in her mouth, cock dirty, and I thought this girl is really kinky. After I burst in her mouth, she told me she liked all the tastes mixed together: her pussy amp;ass, my sperm. She put her head on my chest, said she liked me a lot. She was stroking my dick and it got hard again. She got on top, slipping me back into her ass this way. I looked up, grabbing her tits, saw the joy on her face, sex amp;acid, finding this all so strange. I knew I’d have to keep seeing her. When I went to the bathroom to take a piss, she followed me, knelt before the toilet, looked up with her make-up-smeared eyes. She wanted me to piss in her mouth. She opened her mouth wide to prove it, tongue pink and long. She held it open as my urine splashed off that tongue, some going down her throat, some dribbling off her chin, down her chest, onto the linoleum floor. She wiped her mouth, made an ummmmn sound, smiling at me. She stood, tried to kiss me. I turned away. She smiled amp;said they were all like that – stick all sorts of shit into her mouth to eat but they didn’t want to taste it themselves. I grabbed her then, pushed her against the wall, and kissed her, tasting what she had to offer. This excited me. I threw her on the bathroom floor, hard. She told me yes, told me to be rough. I lifted her legs, found her asshole, and went in for the third time that night. I slapped her. I pulled at her hair. She scratched my body in many places. I shoved my cock, coated with her ass, down her gullet, so deep she nearly gagged and I told her to take it take it take it coming coming coming.
We went to sleep after that.
She made breakfast. She looked different, but still pretty: like a doll. Like something that could shatter with ease. We went to the park later. She wore all white: white skirt, white blouse, white sweater, white wide- brimmed hat amp;shoes. She said do I look like a sacrifice? We held hands like new lovers do, kissed a lot. She told me she didn’t want this to be a one-night stand. I didn’t either. She let me read her poetry: images of cemeteries amp;dead horses. Weeks became more weeks.
She said she loved me. She called me baby and dear a lot. She worked at a bookstore, selling volumes she said one day she might write herself. Somewhere along there, we got engaged. We were dropping plenty of acid, three times a week, and doing a copiousness of coke. She also liked to drink Southern Comfort. Our sex got more and more violent. Once I banged her head against the wall so hard, blood seeped from her nose. I licked it away. We would spend hours, in a drugged haze, connected by cock amp;ass. I would fuck her that way all night, into the morning, coming seven, eight, nine times until I had nothing left in my balls to give. But her ass wanted more. She had a thick dildo, and I’d assfuck her with that as she sat on my face, allowing that stranger, her pussy, to juice itself into my mouth. We would go for drives, we would stop at certain points because she wanted to give me head. Then she wanted my piss.
I was feeling more amp;more – filthy, a miscreant outside the halls of Eros. Once, she was writing a poem, sitting at her desk, naked, and she turned to me and said are we really as bad as we think we are? have we strayed from the Garden of Eden?
I said yes, we have taken up camp far from the garden, made our home in the naughty yard. She laughed amp;said I can’t wait until we get married.
Cynthia says fuck me harder and I think about marriage more and wonder if I ever loved Beth. I told her I did, mostly to please her. I turn Cynthia over on her back, Beth in the head, placing Cynthia’s legs on my shoulders, going back into her ass which is not unlike Beth’s ass after all, Beth the anal-fuck goddess of this vile state we call the land of coitus. I push Cynthia up, her feet near her ears; she looks at me with wide eyes as I drive like Mad Max deeper into her colon; she gasps, says it hurts a little; I ask if she wants me to stop and she says no and I go even harder, wanting to hurt her, I think, knowing I would not have stopped even if she said yes. Cynthia, Cynthia, I say her name, but I still have Beth on my brain, I can see her so clearly, alive: I can see those times when I would jack-off on her tongue; she’d lie there, mouth open to receive, the head of my cock at tongue’s tip, jism slowly seeping thickly. She would draw it in, suck on it, make some of it flow out, come-bubbles on her puckered lips like a European porno. Sometimes, giving me a blow, she’d spit my seed on her palm, rub it all over my cock, making me more sticky, and give me suck again, doing the same with the second load.
Beth, Beth, my decadent nymph, what the fuck happened to you! Where have I buried you at last? Have I forgotten already, so soon? Am I this insensitive to the intricacies of life? No no – I don’t want to think of Beth and our eight months in iniquitous bliss. I was a different human then, not the one I am now: here in the apartment with Kathy amp;Cynthia. I have to converge on Cynthia, but the more I try, the more I see Beth. I feel wanting for who I was; I feel excitement for who I was, and I know that I am with Beth now, and I come, I come into Cynthia’s intestines, and she grabs onto me, acting like maybe she’s have an orgasm too, and we lay like that for a bit, finally letting go, her legs on the bed now, I to her side, wishing for a cigarette or a drink, thinking of all the couplings I have had this night, the memories amp;history of my life with sex, in this far corner of the naughty yard.
I tell Cynthia that I can’t sleep here and she says she knows. She wants a kiss. I kiss. I gather my clothes and return to Kathy’s room, wondering if I’ll get aroused again, wake her, have her, top off this bizarre evening. She’s still quite asleep. I lay next to her. She goes mmmmmnnnnn and I wonder about her continuing dreams. I move to hold her, feeling grimy, Cynthia all over me, the haunting of Beth’s revenant all over me. I fall asleep, just a little, that strange place of half-sleep, having a half-sleep halam where in a car with Kathy amp;Cynthia, Cyn is driving, and then Kath is driving, she’s saying my new name is Forget-Me-Soon, your little Forget-me- Soon. They are dropping me off somewhere. They wave as they leave me in this somewhere; their car gets smaller, smaller, smaller, smaller, smaller, smaller, smaller, smaller, and then is no more. I wake, feeling chilled, knowing it was just a half-dream and I have not been abandoned to be alone on the wrong side of the garden. Kathy has turned, her face in my chest, curled in fetal position, her breath warm, a Kathy-breath. I look at her computer, still on, the document of a marine biology paper still on the lit screen. Is daylight soon? I look out the window, see the corner of the moon, a moon that was in full view just a few hours ago. The moon. What had Isabelle asked me? About Beth? I said the moon. The moon amp;Beth. Somewhere in that relationship, the engagement was broken off, and we were enemies, the sort of thing that happens to me often, and there were those few months when we did not see or speak, until that party, that night of the party, at a house in the suburbs; how we both got there I don’t know but we were, it was a big party, and when I first looked at her I didt think this was Beth, this was just a girl who kind of looked like Beth, this Beth who was not Beth but had short hair, and it was black, real short, like a bos, and she didt have the primordial black lipstick so appurtenant to the look of Beth – red lips now; and she wore a tight tight tight dark blue dress and high heels and she moved my way, slinked my way, smiling a little, saying hello Mike in a Beth voice and I knew then it was Beth. I stared at the long gold earrings she wore, for she’d never had earrings when I knew her, when she almost became a wife. She was sex. She also smelled different, but this may have been a gap in my memory. No, no: I had not forgotten my Beth, I could see this imputation in her eyes, despite the cordial smile; I wanted to say this; I dared not. What could I tell her about these months I had spent away from her; first we had been enjoying our bodies amp;minds in ways that would have made the residents of Gomorrah blush; and now back to priesthood? Indeed, I was like a monk in a citadel, for in those months of disunion, I had not slept with anyone else, I had not gone out to find new confreres. I stayed behind doors, reading, watching TV; went to work, went home, and that was that. But I wouldt tell her this, and I wouldt ask about her activities since the adjournment of our connection, fearful that she might tell me that she was having the time of her life, true or not. Even coming to this soiree was an effort on my part, but I knew I had to return to the
