Glass sat in the corner, knees up, forearms over them, head back on the wall, taking long, loud breaths.
“Hey?” California put his hand on my shoulder and whispered: “You gonna get a piece?”
Life in the Behavioral Sink, Episode Sixteen Thousand Six Hundred and Thirty-Seven: Heavy Cathedral, who is getting heavier, squatted last evening with his back to the house, discussing the behavior of overcrowded rats, with a half-dozen of us who stood around, listening—Gladis had just come by cradling a poor, dead mouse that had to be flushed down the toilet. “Sure,” counters astute, diminutive, and dark Angel, who is drunk, “the similarities between rats and people are very large. But the differences, I suspect, are on the order of the factor of the differences in body weight between an under-nourished mouse and an eight-month pregnant woman!” (Is art and sex replacing sex and death as the concerns of the serious mind? Life here would make me think so.)
“Let’s see how she’s doing when he gets off.” But my cock was about half-hard, and I could feel my heart in it for a dozen beats, till I shifted my leg.
“She’s really wild,” California said. “She wants everything you can figure out, man! Right now, most of the ladies except—” he nodded toward Lady of Spain, who was saying something to Revelation (who didn’t seem to hear), then went back to watching—“are out now. But they were all in here working on her a little while ago! Black Widow, baby? Whew…! What a T-V spectacular that was—”
“Hey!” Lady of Spain said from her place on the wall. “Don’t lay any of that shit on us.” Her chin jerked up. “That wasn’t nothing like what you guys are into.”
“Yeah,” Revelation said. He squinted, scratched his upper lip with nails you could see were clean from here. “That was something different.” He put his hand behind him again. “That wasn’t like this.”
“Hell,” California said. “They was having sex with the broad—!” He glanced at Lady of Spain who’d gone back to watching. “Well, they was playing with the broad in a…sexual way. Anyway, it turned me on.” Suddenly he grinned, leaned closer: “Only this pig likes to get her pussy poked with a pecker. So—naturally—she called in the shock troops. Well, man, there ain’t nothing I like to eat out better than pecker-poked pig-pussy!” California’s grin grew huge; he began to shake my shoulder: “Shit, am I glad to see you, Kid: You get in there and there’ll be something between her legs that won’t turn my stomach when I get down there eatin’ it out, you know?”
I raised an eyebrow.
The huge grin became silent laughter. “I mean some of these motherfuckers are animals, man!”
“Animals?” Jack the Ripper came up, intense and soft. “You’re a fuckin’ hog.’ Every other time some nigger pulls his dick out of that hole, this Jew bastard’s down there on his hands and knees—” and the Ripper stuck out his tongue and scrunched up his face, snorting and grunting: which made California laugh out full voice. “Shit,” the Ripper said (on the traditional two beats), and went out the door.
“You want to do her both at the same time?” Dollar was saying, head together with Fireball. “See, I’ll get it in her pussy, man, and you can work on her head. Course, if you want to do it the other way around—”
“Oh, man—” California turned—“the bitch is tired! She’s been going all night!”
“She was doin’ them freaky things before,” Dollar said. “Takin’ on two guys at once—”
“Sure,” California said. “But that was back—Aw, never mind!”
Copperhead finished, pushed back to his knees, stood slowly, then bent again to drag his green pants up around one leg; the other was bare. “Your turn?” he asked across the room to Revelation. Copperhead was breathing hard. “You better get your ass over here!”
“I already been, once.” Revelation glanced at me. “Glass wants to go again. And the Kid’s here…”
“You go on,” Glass said from the floor. “It’s gonna take me another five minutes to get my breath.”
“Then, fuck it…” Revelation came forward, when I didn’t move, leaving Lady of Spain by the wall. “It ain’t gonna take me no five minutes.” Chuckling, he stepped over Devastation, who turned over and dragged his forearm over his face. “Like I said, I’m an in-and-out man, you know?”
“Well, yeah,” Copperhead said. “That’s what you wanted seconds for, ain’t it? Come on, white boy—” He stepped back, laughing. “You can fuck her. She ain’t prejudiced.”
Risa made a sort of hoarse and gravelly sound that went on, while her mouth opened and closed. Her hand slapped the mattress, her head came up. She looked around. (Her hair was stiff and long, like a spray of dark water that had shot from her head and frozen), still making that sound.
It gave me chills. My cock went from half to full hard. I had to move it over with my thumb.
“Man!” California said, watching me.
“Okay, sweetheart!” Revelation stepped over D-t, who looked solid out. “Okay, I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” Some of the guys laughed.
“…shit!” Lady of Spain peeled forward from the wall and walked toward us, arms still folded, head shaking. Her frown had become a tough, ironic smile in which was a lot of disgust. She passed: I put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you ever go after it like that?”
(Copperhead: “Get your tongue in her mouth, man. It ain’t no fun if you don’t tongue her…yeah, like that.”
(Glass: “She nearly chewed mine off.” And laughed).
Lady of Spain looked at my hand, looked at me, and, without breaking expression, said: “Get off my ass, cocksucker.”
“Now hey…!” California frowned. “The Kid asked you a civil question. You don’t have to go calling him no—”
Looking at me straight, Lady of Spain said: “Now have I just called you anything that ain’t true, or asked you to do anything in a—what is it? An uncivil tone of voice?”
I nodded—“Right on—” and dropped her shoulder.
Lady of Spain shook her head, sucked her teeth.
“God damn,” California said. “These bitches are always goin’ around tryin’ to cut a guy’s balls off—”
“Aw, fuck off,” I said. “What does it take to cut yours off anyway—a dull spoon? Look: first, I have sucked my quota of dick. And enjoyed it. Second, my nuts are strung up there with two-inch steel cable. It takes a lot more hatchet work than that to make them even feel loose,” which California thought was pretty funny again and started laughing all over. “Your thing,” I said, “just isn’t some other peoples’ and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Lady of Spain shook her head again and pushed out between Dollar and Fireball.
I guess Revelation did come pretty fast. He was getting back up on his knees already, face still blank, cock still half hard. Risa held his arm with both her hands. Revelation shook his head, sort of sheepishly: “Like I say, sweetheart, I guess I just don’t take that much—”
But Glass was already down on his hands and knees, pushing Revelation aside, pants open, buckle dangling, cock flapping at his belly like a shy foot of over-sized garden hose.
Copperhead, holding his pants up with one hand, with the other helped Revelation stand.
“You see,” Revelation said. “Even the second time, I go pretty…”
“A load is a load,” Copperhead said. “How you wanna time it is your problem.”
Revelation took an unsteady step that pulled him away from Copperhead’s grip, said, “God damn…!” then started to the wall. Halfway, he glanced at me again, suddenly got a big, pink grin. “You better get some of that while there’s still some left.” At the wall, he turned to lean, hands once more tucked behind him, genitals still engorged, slick with common juice.
I stood, watching, wondering when I could maneuver to see pussy:
With one hand, Risa held Glass’s shoulder. Her knees splayed, sagged, recovered. His hips were going side to side as much as up and down. She was doing something with her other hand—trying to get his pants further down his legs, I realized. Finally he paused long enough to let her push them to his knees, and before she twisted back up beneath him he began to hump and flatten. She lifted one foot, dropped it, and for a moment her face turned from him to us, eyes and mouth wide, tongue crawling around her teeth, till it snapped back, then lapped at Glass’s neck.