R/T/M (23 page)

     When my dick is done pulsing I give her another pump out of spite then lean my hips back and my dick pops out of her and a little jizz leaks out of her.   I get up and lean over to find my pants so I can get my cigarettes and she rolls over onto her right side and curls up and starts crying.   “Boo. Hoo. Hoo.”

     I lay on my back and cup the tip of the cigarette and light it and get that first deep inhale inside me and then exhale with a satisfied sigh of smoke.

     I’m pulling on my cigarette and I look down and my dick’s still hard.

     Sometimes it does that.   Sometimes I get limp sometimes I stay hard.   And even when I go limp I just have to get up and take a piss and wait ten minutes and I’m ready for more.

     So I hurry up and finish my cigarette and stub it out in the ashtray.   And she’s laying there all curled up and her crying settled down a little and now she’s just kind of sniffling and I’m disgusted.   I just fucking hate her.   Sloppy fucking cow.   What did she expect?

     I get on my knees and I push her over onto her stomach and straddle the back of her legs and she tries to wrestle out from under me but I have her pinned and I grab her hair in my left hand and make a fist and yank her head back and she makes a choking sound and I say, “Quit fucking struggling.   I’m not done with you.”

     And I grab my dick with my right hand and line it up with her asshole and I just push it right into her and she cries out and starts crying again.   Sobbing really.   Big lungful of air sobs.   And it’s really distracting.   I let go of her hair with my left hand to use it to support myself and I make a fist with my right hand and punch her in the back of her head and I can hear her teeth click together and I imagine that she probably bit her tongue and it probably hurt, but I don’t care.   I yell, “Shut the fuck up!” at the back of her head and keep thrusting into her ass.

     It’s nice and tight and slick and her big pillowy ass makes a nice soft cushion when I ram my cock deep inside her ass.   I fuck her in the ass quickly and steadily for a good half hour and she’s whimpering and crying and whining and snorking back snot the whole time and when I feel I’m gonna cum, I grab a fistful of her hair with my right hand and yank her head back, and she tenses up which feels great because her asshole squeezes tight around the shaft of my dick and I drive it all the way in and unload, pulsing, into her ass.

     I get up off her and roll off the side of my bed onto my feet and walk over to the bathroom and out of the corner of my eye I see her roll back over into the fetal position and cry even harder than she did the last time I was finished with her.

     I flip on the bathroom light to check my dick for shit and it’s not like it’s coated like a corn dog, but there is a muddy mucous streaked with bright red blood.   I say, “Shit.” and turn the spigot on the sink and wash my dick off in the sink.

     I come out of the bathroom and I turn the light off and she’s still curled up crying and sniffling and sobbing every now and then.   I grab my cigarettes and take one out and light one and take a drag and blow it out then lean over and fish around in my pants for my underwear and I step into them and pull them up and pick my pants up and push the legs back rightside out.   When I get them up on my waist and get them zipped and buttoned I’m feeling pretty fucking manly and I take a drag of my cigarette and yell, “Quit crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!” and I smirk and exhale a plume of smoke.

     She’s so fucking out of it
to even be scared.

     I’m sure if I stomped over to her she’d fucking react but it’s just not worth it for me.

     I’m kind of spent and I just want to fucking be rid of her and go to bed.

     I shrug into my shirt and tuck it into my pants and go over and sit on the edge of the bed and take a second to compose myself and I say, “Hey.”

     “Hey, I’m sorry.   Look.   Get dressed and I’ll take you home, okay?”

     And I know she hears me because she quits fucking sobbing and sniffles, then loses it and sobs a couple more times then regains her composure and sniffles and snorks back a wad of snot and sits up and gives me a look to make sure I’m not just fucking with her and gets up covering her body as best she can with her hands, but there’s a lot of fucking body to her and she’s only got tiny little girl hands anyway.

     She picks her clothes up off the floor and puts them on and I finish my cigarette and stub it out.

     She picks up her hoodie and zips it up and grabs her bag and stands there half looking at the floor half looking at me expectantly.   I stand up and I shrug towards the door which leads out to the bulkhead and I say, “Let’s go out the back, I want to show you something.”

    I take the lead and I open the door to the stairs up under the bulkhead and I open the bulkhead and flip the doors open to the sides and step outside.

     She follows me up the stairs and outside.

     It’s a beautiful night out.   The air is cool and crisp, almost cool enough to fog your breath.

     The moon is full and low in the sky and there are only a few small wispy clouds high up in the sky.

     There’s a slight breeze that rustles the leaves but it’s barely audible and the night is otherwise completely still and clear.

     I walk over to the mound of the old septic tank cover
and she comes up on my right side and I look up into the moon and breath in the cool air and say, “Isn’t it beautiful?”.

     She looks up and sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her right hand and she’s maybe finally regaining her composure.

     I watch her out of the corner of my eye.

     W
hile she’s looking up I haul back and make a fist out of my right hand and I jab her in her left side with my right.   Right at the bottom of her ribs.   It’s a good shot and she doubles over and starts gasping.

     I take a step back and lift my right leg up and k
ick her in the shin between her ankle and her knee.   I don’t kick her with my toe, I stomp down and her leg makes a muffled crunchy snapping sound.

     I used to be able to kick two by fours in half when I was working at the college theater so I probably fucked her up pretty good.

     She tries to get her balance but she’s all fucked up and she falls over onto the short damp grass.

     She hits the ground with a whoomph and
curls up, whimpering, into the fetal position but that’s not enough to protect her.

     I kick her in the face with the toe of my shoe.   H
er head snaps back and she howls in pain.   I just keep kicking her in the head.   It sounds like I’m kicking a watermelon or a pumpkin except for the clicking sound when I kick her in the jaw and her teeth smash against each other or the crunchy squelchy sound when I kick her in the face and something breaks.

     After about eight
good firm kicks I take a break and catch my breath.

     She’s not moving really, but her chest is still rising and falling slightly.

     Her face is all pulpy and slack and she’s not so much breathing as she is gurgling.

    
I figure that’s good enough so I roll her over towards the cap of the septic tank.

    
I walk to the back of the house and grab the crowbar and use it to pry off the lid of the tank and roll it off to the side.

     She’s still making gurgly sounds so
I step back and haul off and smash her in the skull with the crowbar a couple times.

     She stops gurgling.

     Maybe she’s out.   Maybe she’s dead.   I don’t care.

     I mover her over, lining her up with the hole and it’s kind of a pain in the ass because she’s slack, dead weight and
there’s a smell coming up from the dark in the hole and I kind of forgot about my friend in there.

     Imagine the worst garbage you’ve ever smelled.

     Worse but different than that.

     Imagine the worst shit smell you’ve ever smelled.

     You know, the kind that takes you off guard and hits you like a wall and almost knocks you over.

     Different and probably worse than that.

     You can’t even endure it for too long or you feel your gorge rise.

     And just when you’ve choked it back it rises again.

     I haven’t ever puked, but God knows that my body wanted to.

     A
t least it’s nice and cool out tonight.   If it was a hot summer afternoon the smell probably would have fucking knocked me right over.   And even though the smell coming up from the hole is pretty intense I can smell that the bitch on the ground shit her pants.   Fucking ew!

     I drop her and
jerk up and huff out a breath to clear the smell out of my nose and mouth.   I try to turn my breath and get a clear breath in, but it’s all just pretty ripe and awful.

     I line her head and shoulders up with the hole and go down and grab her ankles and sort of feed her into the hole.   Her head goes in followed by her shoulders and when that’s in I give her a shove and there’s more weight in than out and she shoots down into the darkness and some air puffs out and it smells like fresh shit and stale dead body and I’m not going to lie to you, it’s pretty fucking revolting.

     At least I didn’t bury the bitches in the crawlspace underneath my house.

     I can only imagine what John Wayne Gacy’s house fucking smelled like.

     Problems with the plumbing my ass!   Dead body only smells like one fucking thing and that’s dead fucking body.

     I take a couple steps away and get some deep breaths of cool night air into me and it doesn’t flush out all of the awful smell, but it helps a little and I reach into my pocket and pull out my cigarette pack and flip one between my lips and light it and breathe the smoke deep into my lungs and blow it out at the moon and think, “Gee.   It really is a beautiful night out tonight.”
.

     I finished about two thirds of the cigarette then walked back over to the black circle in the ground with the big iron colored lid next to it.

     I took the last drag and blew it toward the hole hoping that it would break up the shit and death smell, but it sort of dissipated and I wasn’t about to stick my head in the fucking hole to see if it was worse inside.   I just lifted up an edge of the lid and rolled it back into place and it settled in making a sort of gritty “Klonk!” sound.

    
I didn’t bother checking up to see if she was really dead.

    
I’d just look in the back yard each night when I got home.   I figured if the cap was still in place she was still in there, because in the unlikely event that she was still alive and she did manage to get out I think it would be highly unlikely that she would take the time to put the fucking lid back on the septic tank before she went limping off to try to find help.

     I mean, really, what would you have done?

     I practically fucking raped her.

     I mean, sure, she agreed to come over my house so she was partly guilty, but I know that what I did was kind of fucked up but I just got caught up in the moment and if I let her go she probably wouldn’t tell the cops, but she’d
probably tell her friends and maybe word would get around and it could’ve fucked up my MySpace game so fuck that.

     I did what made the most sense at the time and I’m okay with that.

     I sleep okay at night.

     Speaking of MySpace, I’m not so stupid as to be oblivious to the fact that since we had been messaging back and forth over MySpace that there’s an electronic record of our interactions but when I’m messaging back and forth with some cooze I try to be all enigmatic.

     This serves two purposes.

     First, chicks dig it.   That whole dark and mysterious thing works every time.

     Second, I don’t provide a lot of information in case in the unlikely event that someone decides to try to break into her computer and read what’s inside to figure out where the fuck she disappeared to.

     I’m not an idiot.   I know they can trace I.S.P. addresses and figure out where any incoming messages had come from in, like, five minutes.

     But I mean it’s highly unlikely that this chick let her parents know the password for her MySpace account.   That shit’s like a virtual online diary for kids these days and the last thing your average teenager wants is their parents nosing around and finding out what they’re up to.

     And I figure it’s not a computer crime, so why would they check the computer?

    
Computer forensics?   That shit’s expensive.

    
I knew a guy that worked in a computer store and this dude comes in to get his laptop fixed and while it’s at the store, the state police show up and they seize the laptop and they say they’re going to send it to the state computer forensics lab, because the guy supposedly has kiddy porn on his hard drive, but it’s going to cost, like, $4,000 and I imagine, like, one poor schmuck in an office stacked with row upon row of desktop towers at a little desk with a terminal, just drudgingly hacking into drive after drive, looking for financial records and kiddie porn and regretting the fact that he went to school for computers but at the same time grateful to even have a fucking job.