Ad Nauseam

Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart


SIMPLE PLEASURES



Jimmy squatted by the garden, his elbows resting on dirty knees. He pushed back his ball cap to scratch his receding hairline, squinting in the early morning sunlight at the small pile of gleaming guts in the grass.

Hmmmmph! Now what the hell is that? Though it was only a thought, he still flinched, waiting for Mama to cuff his ear for cursing. Mama had been dead and buried for over a year, but he still felt her presence, hovering in anticipation of his next infraction.

Edna DeLeon hadn’t raised her only child to be a foul mouth.

The guts looked clean, not bloody like they’d been torn out by a cat or something. Jimmy thought they probably came from a rabbit or squirrel. A tiny, dark organ that may have been the liver was attached to the innards by a vessel no thicker than a thread. He poked at the pile with his index finger, wondering how it came to be in his yard, and where the rest of the unfortunate critter was. His finger began to tingle and he pulled it back in surprise. There was a faint odor around the pile he hadn’t noticed before, not the sort of nasty smell one associated with entrails, but a light, musky odor. It was almost pleasant. Jimmy inhaled deeply to breathe in more of the scent.

As the unusual smell flooded his senses, he regarded the pile of guts with more curiosity than distaste. James DeLeon was a lot of things, but squeamish was never one of them. He grabbed the squishy pile of guts in his bare hand, meaning to throw them on the compost heap at the edge of the garden, but one end of the intestines seemed stuck to the grass. He tugged slightly, the slimy rope stretching a bit before the resistance he felt became a pulling of its own. It slipped through his hand and disappeared into the ground, with a faint slurping noise that reminded him of eating his Mama’s spaghetti.

What on Earth?

The entire mess was gone; only a small, irregular hole in the ground marked where it had been. Jimmy blinked. Had that really just happened? Did the ground really just suck those guts up like pasta?

His whole hand tingled now and, though it had faded somewhat, the unusual scent lingered. Jimmy leaned forward, his nose pressed to the grass as he peered into the tiny hole left behind. It was hardly bigger than a drinking straw, the edges dark with raw soil. It actually looked like an earthworm burrow. The way the intestines had wriggled out of his hand was certainly worm-like.

Jimmy straightened up and wiped his hands on his overalls before heading down the path to the house. It was awfully warm this morning and he’d been working in the garden for a while. His back was sore from being hunched over so long and he accepted that he wasn’t a kid anymore. Maybe he should just go in and have himself a cool glass of water and a short nap. He decided it was a good idea and, resisting the urge to glance back at where the little pile had been, he mounted the steps and entered the house.

He had almost convinced himself the whole thing hadn’t happened, or that maybe it had been a big ol’ night crawler he’d gotten hold of, but one thing still troubled him. As he went about his daily chores, the same question kept returning to his mind.

Why would a pile of innards, or an earthworm for that matter, have given him half a hard-on?

***

Jimmy suffered fitful dreams that night and woke up early the next morning, feeling tired and a little hung-over.

When Mama had been alive, she never allowed beer in the house. The day he put her in the ground out at Shady Pines Cemetery, Jimmy brought home a twelve-pack and, in the year since, made a habit of keeping beer in the fridge at all times. It was no longer her house.

It still looked like her house, the same frilly drapes and matching hand-towels adorned the master bathroom.

He hadn’t touched anything in her bedroom. But he considered the place his now, to be ruled under his rules. The beer was the first change. Jimmy had never lived alone before; never left his mother’s nest. Initially, he feared he would be lonely, but found the absence of Mama’s constant harping and slapping refreshing. He did miss her cooking, though.

After a long shower (there was no one around to berate him for wasting water), Jimmy got dressed and checked the beer situation in the fridge.

Uh oh. Only two left. He decided to go into town. He thought maybe he’d stop by the café for breakfast and see Charlene. Though being in town caused him anxiety, he would do anything for the chance to exchange a few words with his favorite waitress. The thought of seeing Charlene’s smile (even if it was because she kind of had to) made up his mind. Grabbing his sweat-stained ball cap, Jimmy crammed it on his head to cover his bald spot and headed out the door.

The garage sat at the end of the walk, beyond the vegetable garden. Jimmy stopped abruptly, the sweat on his body cold despite the heat of the late June morning. The pile of guts was back, this time larger than before. Today it looked to have come from a cat or full grown rabbit. The smell was back too, much stronger this time. Jimmy could smell it from ten feet away, and became instantly erect.

All thoughts of beer and Charlene disappeared as he once again knelt in the grass.

The guts felt warm and sticky, once again clean of blood. He hefted them in his hand, careful not to pull at the section that disappeared into the ground like some strange umbilicus. A pleasant tingling permeated his flesh.

“What the blue hell is going on here?” This time Jimmy didn’t flinch, ignoring his mother’s voice in his head as she berated him for cursing.

James Allen DeLeon! You will not cuss in my house!

“I’m not in the house, Mama. And you’re dead.”

At the sound of his voice arguing with his imagination, the guts once again slurped into the ground. Jimmy grabbed tight to the end, but it broke off in his hand, leaving him holding a scant inch of gleaming intestine. He wiped it on his jeans without thought, his eyes on the hole left behind.

It was larger this time, big enough to admit his sausage-like index finger. Before he could lose his nerve, he poked the finger in and wriggled it around inside the hole. The interior was warm and moist. And slimy. Again he thought of an earthworm. Strange. Just as he was about to pull his finger out, the hole began to move. Pulling gently at his finger, it began to make those slurping noises. Sucking noises.

Jimmy pulled back so violently that he fell onto his ass in the garden. A tomato plant broke his fall, the fruit squishing beneath his considerable weight and soaking through his jeans.

Great! Just Great! Now it’s gonna look like I got my period! He laughed despite himself. Edna DeLeon hadn’t allowed cursing in her house, but it was really forbidden for men to talk about lady stuff.

Jimmy sat on the remains of the tomato plant,staring at the grass. The dark hole in the ground stared back at him, exuding its seductive odor. He wondered where it had come from and what had caused it.

Should I call someone?

Who would I even call?

He had no family left; his Dad had run off with a cocktail waitress shortly before he was born, and his mother had been an only child. He had no friends, and never held a job aside from repairing fencing for the farmers down the road. He and Mama hadn’t required much money to live on, and she had inherited a tidy sum in her bank account, including the house, when her own folks died. Now that bank account, like the house, was his. His decisions and his life were now his own, as well.

When he was still in his twenties, Jimmy had mentioned to Mama that maybe he ought to date girls, like the rest of the guys in town did. Mama quickly squashed that ambition, reminding him how cruel the kids, especially the girls at school had been. Mama always said he’d been born with more heart than brains, and she fostered his shyness, not wanting to let anyone be in the position to hurt her only child.

At thirty-seven, James DeLeon hadn’t dated since high school. Even then it had only been a few times. Both girls were so shy and sweet that he had been afraid to bring them home to his Mama, worried that she would hurt their feelings. He didn’t know if he could date at this point, or if he even wanted to. He didn’t know how to even start.

Jimmy got to his feet and brushed off the back of his pants. No good. He was going to have to change. Another shower probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

The hole in the ground remained, innocuous in the morning light, no outward evidence of the digestive remains it had gobbled up moments before. He once again wondered if there was someone he could tell about the phenomenon, but could think of no one, and walked into the house to clean up.

***

A cheerful bell announced Jimmy’s arrival as he entered the diner, closer to lunch time now, since he had showered and changed. There were quite a few patrons, including a couple who occupied his usual corner table. Jimmy took a seat at the counter, disappointed his comfort zone had been invaded. Jimmy nodded at Sam as he walked over in his usual stained apron, looking bored, and laid a laminated menu on the counter in front of him. Charlene only waited on tables, and sitting at the counter made Jimmy the cook’s responsibility. He looked over at his table in hopes the couple might be finishing up, but Charlene was just delivering their food.

Jimmy really wanted a beer, but ordered a cup of black coffee instead while looking at the menu. Someone pinched the back of his arm, startling him from his sullen inspection.

“Hey there Jimmy.” Charlene stood at his elbow, holding three empty coffee cups by the handles expertly in one hand. Her smile, beautiful as always, made his heart skip.

“Uh, hi, Charlene.” Jimmy felt himself blush, and tried to stop, only making the heat in his face worse.

“Sorry about the table, Hon. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve saved it for ya.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need that table. I was planning on sitting at the counter today anyways.” God, I always sound like an idiot when I try to talk to her! Jimmy wished he could just slither out the door.

Charlene cocked her head to one side and smiled, clearly amused by his awkward behavior. Before she could reply, a woman across the restaurant called out, her hand waving frantically in the air.

“Waitress! Can I have my bill? I’m late for a meeting!” Jimmy thought the woman was rude, and hated her for interrupting their conversation.

“Just a minute,” Charlene called back.

She reached out to grab Jimmy’s elbow gently, the feel of her hand reminding him of the tingly feeling he got from the hole. He tore his mind away from the memory just in time to catch what she said to him. “I go on break in about forty-five minutes. Would you be able to hang around that long? There’s something I wanna ask you.”

“Sure!” He said too quickly. “I mean . . . um . . . of course. I haven’t even ordered yet. Was thinking maybe a hoagie, or a French dip—”

She smiled at him as the woman needing her bill began to holler again. Charlene hurried away and called over her shoulder. “Talk to ya in a bit, Jimmy!”

As if on cue, Sam came over with his pad and stood in front of Jimmy expectantly, not saying a word. Jimmy asked for the first thing on the menu, which happened to be a Rueben and fries. He didn’t like sauerkraut, but at the moment didn’t care. His mind whirled.

What could Charlene want to ask me? What if she was going to ask him to quit coming in on her shifts? What if she thought he was creepy? Jimmy squashed the thoughts before they could blossom into a full blown panic. She probably needed someone to a repair a fence for her Mama. Or maybe for a new boyfriend?!

Oh geez! Here we go again!

The next forty-five minutes were the longest in his life, but Jimmy managed to eat his lunch, shoving the sandwich in without thought, and was surprised when it was gone. He almost left then, but suddenly the lady herself slid into the seat beside him, a diet coke in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other.

“Whew! What a day! I think everyone must be crabby today. I swear if one more person complains about their food or the bill—she stopped abruptly, her big blue eyes bright with mirth. “Say Jimmy, would you mind talking outside? I only get fifteen minutes and I’m dying for a smoke.”

Jimmy smiled in his awkward way and nodded. He always found it very charming how she spoke so fast and never seemed to run out of things to say. Charlene made him almost dizzy with her constant chatter, but he liked it. She never seemed self-conscious. He followed her out into the humid afternoon, the bell over the door sounding as they left.

Charlene looked the same as always. Beautiful. She kept her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wore pink eye shadow and lip gloss that matched her uniform. Her skirt was short and tight, giving Jimmy a glimpse of long, tan legs that made him feel slightly lightheaded. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the brick wall, dragging deeply and squinting across the street at their reflections in the shop windows. As an afterthought, she held the pack of smokes towards him.

“Want one?”

“No, thank you.” He almost added Mama wouldn’t like that, but had enough sense to realize this wasn’t the sort of thing a grown man should say. Then he glanced at her legs and the roaring blush was back.

“So anyway, I was thinking,” Charlene looked away as she spoke, paying too much attention to her cigarette. “There’s this picnic on Sunday after service, and I was thinking about going. But with me being divorced for so long and never showing up with a date to anything . . . I know those old women always have their tongues wagging and they have to be saying I’m some sort of lesbian or something.”

He knew what a lesbian was, but he was unsure about the mechanics of such a relationship, so he nodded in a way he hoped looked knowing, saying nothing. Charlene stared at him for a minute, her eyebrows raised in expectation, before she finally spoke again, huffing in exasperation.

“I was wondering if you would like to go with me.”

“Go with, um, you?” Jimmy felt dizzy. Was she asking him out? “Like a date?”

“Yeah. Sure. A date.” Charlene looked doubtful now and Jimmy felt that familiar panic well up inside him. She might be changing her mind.

“Yes! Sure I would!” Jimmy beamed but she looked unsure, so he toned it down a notch, hoping he appeared less eager. “I mean, yeah. I would go with you.”

Charlene smiled then, her teeth uneven and yellowed from nicotine, but still the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. She took out her order book and scratched something on it with her pen, before ripping the sheet off and handing it to him.

“Here’s my number, Hon. Call me tomorrow night. We’ll figure it out.” She crushed the cigarette under her shoe then, with a wink, turned on her heel and left Jimmy to watch her hips swing as she walked back through the door.

He stood there for a moment dumbfounded. He had a date! It was too much for him to process. Instead, he tried to remember if he had paid Sam for his sandwich or not. Checking the remaining cash in his pocket, Jimmy got into the truck and headed for the liquor store across town.

***

Jimmy barely heard the liquor store’s little bell above the door. He walked to the back of the store and opened the cooler, locating his favorite brand of beer. There was a sale on cases, so he grabbed one instead of the usual twelve-pack. He heard Mama’s voice sound off in the back of his head, saying something about an alcoholic, but he ignored her. He was too happy about his date. Mama would have plenty to say about that too.

On the way to the counter, Jimmy’s eyes fell on the magazine rack in the corner and he stopped. Unlike the racks in other stores, the front was higher so you couldn’t see the covers, only the very top where the name was. The beer wasn’t the only change in the house since Mama had died. He didn’t have very many of these magazines, but had collected a few.

He looked at the rack longingly, trying to decide if the embarrassment of purchasing them would be worth the excitement of having some new material for his fantasies. He decided he wanted them and grabbed two without even looking to see what they were.

At the register, a kid who looked barely old enough to drink rang up the case of beer, and then stopped with his hand on the nudie mags. He looked around suspiciously, leaning over the counter until he was a little too close for Jimmy’s comfort. Then he spoke in a hushed and secretive voice.

“You don’t want these, man.”

Jimmy was flooded with embarrassment, wishing he hadn’t grabbed the books at all. A big breasted blonde mocked him from the cover, one hand holding up her breast like an offering, the other hidden in the mystery between her legs. Jimmy looked away, ready to pay for the beer and abandon the magazines.

“I got something better than this shit.” The young man smiled and winked. He looked around one more time for good measure, reached beneath the counter, and came up with a shoe box held together with masking tape. “Check these out, man.”

Inside the shoebox were DVDs, their covers depicting scenes much worse than any Jimmy had ever seen in his magazines. His heart raced at the thought of watching naughty things instead of just looking at glossy pictures, but the excitement quickly waned.

“I don’t have a way to play them. Just a VCR.”

The kid made a noise of derision and shook his head, placing the box back under the counter and coming up with a larger one. “That’s dinosaur shit, pops. But I do have some VHS. Now what you want? Gang bang? Anal? Fetish? Lesbian?”

“Lesbian.” Jimmy said quickly, surprising himself. “And, um, whatever else you think is good.”

The cashier made a show of digging through the box and inspecting each one, before setting three aside and returning the others to their hiding place. He put money in the register for the beer, but the crumpled twenty for the videos went directly into his pocket. He smiled at Jimmy in a creepy way that made him want out of the store as soon as possible, putting the movies into a paper bag.

“You have a nice day, man. Let me know what you think. If those don’t get you off, nothing will!”

Jimmy grabbed the beer and the bag and left without a word.

***

The phone rang ten times when Jimmy finally gave up. Charlene told him to call her tomorrow night, but he was too excited to wait. He managed to hold off until after dinner, but spent the entire time staring at the old phone where it sat on the kitchen counter.

Scenarios played through his head. What if she had gotten into an accident on the way home from work? What if she fell and was lying on the floor only inches away from the phone, suffering some terrible injury and forced to listen to the telephone taunting her with its every ring? Or worse! What if she was in her bedroom romancing with some other guy?! The possibilities were endless.

What he really wanted to do was drive straight to town and find out why she wouldn’t answer the phone, but didn’t know exactly where she lived. He also realized somewhere deep down that this would not be normal behavior. He wanted to be cool with Charlene. Act cool. It became his mantra.

Jimmy popped the tab on a beer and began to wash the dishes. Edna DeLeon hadn’t approved of a lot of things, and automatic dishwashers were one of them. Real women, she told her son often, didn’t need a machine to do their jobs. No machine could ever get the dishes as clean as good ol’ elbow grease.

He was coming to hate his Mama. At times he fantasized about hopping in the truck late at night and driving out to that cemetery to piss on her grave. It would be beer piss too! Sometimes these thoughts caused him guilt, but as time passed, the thoughts increased in frequency and the guilt diminished. As he finished the chore, his eyes fell upon the paper bag on the counter.

Jimmy picked up the bag with the intention of stashing the movies in a drawer, certain that he wasn’t ready to watch them. But he found himself taking them out of the bag and inspecting each one.

The covers depicted things that would’ve made his Mama turn over in her grave; the backs had paragraphs describing what each video promised to show him. The language was colorful and foul. Most of the words he didn’t completely understand, but having made it half way through high school, he’d been exposed to enough teenage guy-talk to get the gist of it. He grabbed two more beers, drinking one in a single gulp. Just the thought of actually watching the movies made his hands sweat and his heart race. He felt such a bittersweet mixture of excitement, disgust, embarrassment and arousal.

As he grabbed another beer and slid the first video into the VCR, his Mama’s voice came again. Jimmy wasn’t crazy. He knew her voice wasn’t real, but she was there none the less, babbling with rage. Oh no you DON’T James Allen DeLeon! My own son, a drunken whoremaster! Not in MY house!

“Shut up, Mama.” He said, sitting on the worn couch and pressing play.

His eyes went round and his jaw slack as the images began to grind upon the television screen without any beginning credits. There was no plot whatsoever, no pretense at acting; just raw footage of men and women at their most perverse and primal. Jimmy loved it.

Two hours and countless beers later, Jimmy was just starting the third video. He had masturbated until he no longer could, the beer and his exertions leaving him weak and tired, but still he watched, his gaze riveted onto the screen. Somewhere in the night, an animal wailed in pain and terror, but he paid it no heed.

James Allen DeLeon was learning the erotic details of a lesbian relationship, in living color.

***

When Jimmy awoke in the morning, his head was pounding almost as hard as his heart. He had been in the middle of a graphically erotic dream turned nightmare. In his dream, he was one of the guys in the video, doing nasty things to women, but when he looked up, all of them wore his Mama’s face. He sat up fast in bed; his throbbing head making him regret the decision instantly. He felt dirty and hung-over.

And oddly satisfied.

After a hot shower and a hearty breakfast of eggs and hash browns, Jimmy began to feel human again. A couple of aspirin washed down with half a gallon of water restored him to his previously joyful mood from the day before.

I have a date with Charlene tomorrow! He wondered if she had ever done any of the things he had seen on the videos. Just the thought made him blush, but he felt as much excitement as embarrassment. Putting on his cap to shield his thinning hair and scalp from the sun, Jimmy whistled as he headed out back to the garden for his morning chores. He wasn’t surprised to see the mess that waited for him.

Pile of guts? Yep.

Larger than yesterday? Sure was.

He vaguely remembered hearing howling the night before. This time it was a dog, no question about it. A worn collar with no tags lay on the ground beside the innards. He didn’t recognize the thing, but it didn’t matter anyway. He wouldn’t have driven the mile to the nearest neighbor’s house just to tell them their dog had been eaten by a hole in his yard. People already thought he was simple. He wasn’t about to make them think he was crazy, too.

Jimmy didn’t bother handling the guts this time, but he did retrieve the collar and toss it in the garbage can. When he returned and the slimy pile of intestines still lay there, he stomped his foot next to the hole. Sure enough, the guts disappeared in a flash. It left a larger hole behind, and the phantom fragrance that now made him uncomfortably hard after the evening’s exploits. Jimmy walked away to tend his garden.

After the gardening, Jimmy spent the better part of the day cleaning house. He didn’t know if Charlene would want to come home with him, or if he would even summon the courage to ask, but wanted to be prepared just in case. Hours of scrubbing and dusting chased away his hangover and left him spent but happy. He thought about having a beer for a reward, but then he remembered. Charlene wanted to go to a church function, and though he might do things just to irritate his mother’s specter, he certainly didn’t want to show up at a social hung-over. He had a feeling that one beer would end up being several.

The phone only rang twice before Charlene answered with her usual cheery demeanor. Jimmy found it much easier to speak to her on the phone. He actually felt cool as they chatted and made plans to meet at the picnic the following day. After a half an hour, Charlene said she needed to go and they exchanged their goodbyes, with promises of seeing one another soon. Jimmy fell into bed with a smile on his face.

He awoke around midnight feeling uneasy. It was hotter than hell in his little bedroom and the electric fan by the window pulled in humid air. He was also aroused to a painful degree, sporting the most impressive erection of his life. He lay there for a while; his mind foggy as he tried to determine what had disturbed his sleep. Though he had abstained from drinking that evening, he felt drunk and confused. Another warm breeze blew across his body and he noticed the smell. It was the odor from that hole, only strong enough that he could now smell it in the house. He felt it coating his body, teasing him with need.

I wonder if the hole uses that smell to attract its prey. As quickly as this thought came, it was gone.

Still uncomfortably erect, Jimmy formed a fantasy in his mind about Charlene. He blended the scenes from the videos with her face, imagining her taking him in her mouth like those actresses had, willingly, eagerly.

Her mouth. His mind skipped to the day before, the feeling of the hole tightening around his finger, tingling, sucking at his finger. He tried to push it away, but then his Mama crept in, her voice disgusted and scornful.

Figures you’d turn out like him. All you men are the same. Just like your Daddy, only worried about getting some whore to play with your worm! Worm. He thought of the hole again, his mind pleasantly fuzzy. The hole. The tingly, sucking hole. The women on the video, sucking shiny purple penises into their crimson mouths. Did it tingle? From the looks on the men’s faces, he thought it just might.

Jimmy was out the back door and on the porch steps before he even realized he’d left his bed. The hot night air caressed his body where he stood, wearing nothing more than thin boxer shorts. He couldn’t see the hole yet, but the odor was strong, drifting over to him in almost tangible waves, luring him on. He should’ve been afraid. The piles of guts should’ve been warning enough to stay away. Jimmy moved as if in an intoxicating dream. He told himself it was a dream. Nothing could hurt him while he slept.

Jimmy dropped his boxers and sank down to his knees. Locating the hole with his hand, he could feel its slickness, ready for him like the ladies on the television. On hands and knees he eased forward, plunging himself into the warm, wet earth. The hole began to suck immediately, causing him to cry out with pleasure. The tingling felt so intense that it became almost painful. He bucked and shuddered as the ground tightened and pulled at him, his climax coming hard and fast, but still it went on.

Over and over he found completion, but still the hole sucked at him, the pressure changing from ecstasy to pain, then agony in a second. He cried out and tried to pull back, his limbs weak and worthless. Laying prone on the ground for what felt like hours and unable to struggle, Jimmy screamed his lungs raw, aware in one small, sane portion of his mind that this was no dream and his nearest neighbors were too far away to hear him.

Jimmy heard the smooching sounds of his body being sucked into the ground, inch by inch. His bones cracked like kindling. Electric fire coursed through his veins as his insides turned to liquid and were steadily consumed. Then his spine gave way in one brilliant flare of hot pain before he blessedly lost sensation in his body. His fragmenting mind conjured up the image of an insect, injecting its victim with paralyzing enzymes before slurping up the soupy insides left behind. He clearly heard a sound like a straw at the bottom of a milkshake, sucking up that last little bit of ice cream with noisy enthusiasm.

The last thing Jimmy heard, before the darkness claimed him for its own, was the phantom sound of his Mama’s voice.

Filthy, drunken whoremonger! I always knew you were a dirty, stupid boy!

***

Charlene had built up quite a head of steam on her way to Jimmy’s place, and by the time she pulled into the driveway next to his beat up old truck, she was more than ready to give him a piece of her mind. She’d been stood up by a lot of guys in the past, but this really took the cake.

I’ve been stood up by the goddamned village Idiot! Jimmy had been mooning over her for the last year, practically drooling every time he got a glimpse of her ass or down her shirt, and he had the nerve to leave her at the damn picnic alone! The only reason she had even considered him was because she needed a date and he seemed nice, if a little slow. He was also kind of cute in a devoted puppy sort of way. She stomped around the garage, her hands balled into fists, sweat from the hot afternoon collecting in the small of her back and under her breasts.

Slowing as the smell hit her, Charlene stopped and looked around. It smelled like sex, heavy and musky. It seemed to come from near the little vegetable garden Jimmy obviously spent much time in. Wrinkling her nose against the odor, she felt an electric jolt of arousal that started in her chest and shot like lightning to her groin. Charlene gasped aloud at the power of the sensation, her gaze falling upon something gleaming in the sun several yards away. Sweating profusely and taking small sips of air, Charlene approached the mound. The throbbing between her thighs was so deep that she ached to press herself against something, a fence post, anything, to relieve it.

A stained pair of men’s boxers lay crumpled on the ground, next to a pile of intestines. Part of a pale organ, heavily veined in blue, protruded from a hole in the ground that was easily the size of her thigh. Alarmed, but still painfully aroused, and now starting to feel light headed, Charlene inspected the heap of guts, nudging it with her foot, unmindful of the fact that she wore only a pair of flip-flops. Her mouth opened in an ooooh! of surprise.

Charlene’s foot began to tingle.