Panting
A Fluke Porno Request
By Winnebagels
[So yeah. Worst one yet. By all standards. Don't read this you kiddie chumps. If you want to know about porno ask your parents.]
Graves lay on his bed in his New York tenement apartment, alone but for the Mexican family of six sat huddled in the far right corner. With the fourth bottle of Nair he realized just how bad of a day it was to be his pubic hair.
A knock came from the door. Graves covered his manhood with a hand towel.
Sky's car had broken down, and she needed to use a phone. She stood there next to Juan and Juan and Jose and Hernando and Sofia and Frank, her white tracksuit soaked through with rainwater.
Sky would do anything for a phone.
Graves bent down to check under his polka dot futon. His pale white buttocks slapped against each other as the breeze from the holes in his cardboard window rushed into the room.
Graves found an old Nokia, lightly dusted in a fine Cheeto powder.
He turned to Sky and asked her "Really? Anything?" as he casually swat his junk towel to the ground.
Sky lifted up a steam punk themed strap on and a ball gag. "Anything."
Graves held an open hand to his pie hole, whispering "Oh My".
Juan and Juan cried into each other's arms as they looked on in horror. Muffled screams of "GG" filled the apartment, followed by an elongated "Deuces" and the slap of skin against skin.
Sky walked out on to the street with a nokia flip phone and a lingering odor.
Graves lay back on his stain covered beanbag chair, smoking a cigarette and cracking a hard-shelled crab against his belly.