Archive-author:
Archive-title: Jericho Joy
As they collapsed, ringingly, to the bed, she nuzzled
the warmth of his elusive armpit and sussurrated with the
ecstasy of his glorious odor. “Baby,” she cried out to his
middleaged mass, “infant, child, sexually immature
Homo Sapiens!”
Aroused, he nibbled the fresh sweet hair between her newest
toes. “Oh, how I long for the days when I could gaze hungrily
into your unblinking third eye and be presented with a gift
of mucus!” He attached himself like a schnauzer with lockjaw
to her inner thigh and sucked the marrow from her lust-
crazed bones.
She ran her remaining fingers over the chitinous exoskeleton
of his collapsible love-stick, shifting him into third. Panting
with pleasure, he sniffed her unpulchritudinous vestigial
milk bottles. “Sweetheart, saccharine blood pump, tongue-nerve-
exciting fleshy blood-soaked hydraulic thing, no one, not
even the rain, has such small glands.”
Her blood seething with desire, she sank her angry yellow teeth
into the cartilage of his nose. Nearing his climax, he extruded
a tuning fork from his lower abdomen. As she plonked his G-string,
musical instruments at last sprouted from his erect, bleeding
earlobe. Crying out in pure, bloodthirsty joy, she blew
his trumpet three times.
And the walls came.
–
