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Whispers. "Shh, shh, shh, s'ok, s'ok, shh. Iouna sugya dih. Hah ha. Yeah. Peeenis," she slurred, while foraging in the dark for my ween. Kevin’s gal. From the smell, she was blotto. Twisted. Tanked. Gone Borneo. Zooted. Plotzed. I read the rest of the synonyms written on her “Preppy Drinking Shirt” as she took my cock into her mouth. “Hi!” she spoke to it first.
I looked down my nose at her sinking like the moon behind my distended belly. I’d eaten myself into madness. At last.
No. Reality came rushing back with the wind of Kevin’s flatus. He slumbered and shifted in his bunk. Kevin was my…my college roomate. He was…in his bed. In our..dorm room? Son of a bitch. Scranton. I was still in Scranton. I was on the floor! What year was this?
I wrenched in agony. Daggers clashed deep in my bowels. The Steamy Tan leaked from my ass. Intolerable burning. My innards churned gravel and broken glass through a stew of snapped scissors and corrosive porridge. I shuddered.
“Mmhmm, you lieg thah?”
Turkey gravy. Pulp of balsa wood. Blood and mustard. Quivering. Puckering eye. Heat.
“Got a fat cocks. Hee.”
I could see liquid shit spilling from Kevin’s bed, too, rippling pudding curtains pouring in boiling folds from beneath his comforter,
raining onto his mini-fridge, his LP’s, the floor, his Fender Squire, pooling around me and his gal. My hair sopped it up like a rag.
What was happening?!
Everything, guts, belly, ass, cheeks, muscles, vocal chords, fingers, toes, diaphragm, intestines succumbed in a single, violent tremor, then, as I came into Kevin’s gal’s mouth. I watched my stomach collapse as the first fart thundered. I gambled and lost. I pissed out my ass. At first a flood of gas, chased by popgun turds and noisy perforations. The soupy diarrhea came, then, endlessly.
She held on. “HmmmM!! MMM!!!!”
POOP PART 2
POOP PART 4
Date Written: January 12, 2005
Author: Dick Vomit
Average Vote: 4.58333