Gramma don’t have no fancy orgasms, like in those books, all detached from the sweaty joy that is two bodies getting together: she comes! And she co...es real good. Now I ain’t gonna sit here talking ‘bout how I played with my penis for gramma; I have a dick and I’m leavin’ it at that.So, gramma’s vagina is all open as she presses down on my mouth and nose. That was glorious. I think I know what honey bees feel like when they catch scent of the nectar in a flower. My nostrils flared as I scented. Damn them and their reminders of obsolete lust. How did they escape the postmortem slash-and-burn? How long has it been?Shouldn't the last of the landmines have blown already?One more impatient click obliterates the evidence of her foolishness, but the ache it leaves behind is a half-knitted fracture re-experiencing its breakage. Some things can't be so easily purged.September 2018It's not the first time she's whispered to the ceiling as if he were watching from there, his fist a quaking Andean. “I heard that old bitch.”“It is my choice,” I said. “I can do what your friends do with pretty women, put you in a whore house. You could do twenty or so men a day, day after day after day, couldn’t you, into every hole you’ve got?”She looked away.“Or I could give you to some of our Indian friends. They’re very partial to blondes.”“You wouldn’t,” she snorted.“Or,” I said, taking out my big knife and showed it to her, “I could cut out your tongue and chop off your fingers.”“This hurts,” she. Some of her clients needed to have their egos stroked, so she would lie to them and pretend to be turned on when she was really formulating a shopping list in her head. She was very good at it. With Alan, though, she didn't feel the need to patronise him with meaningless platitudes. She found that he genuinely turned her on.He nuzzled up against her neck and kissed her collarbone, causing a tingle to run down her spine."God damn, that was good," Alan finally managed to say. His breathing was.