Ring Toss (from the novel "The Monkey Tribe")

“Hmm. I’m thinking I can guess what you’re thinking.”


Jack gives up on the dream and finds Audrey kneeling at his crotch. His cock is crazily stiff again (something about her having turned him into a god, a robot, a barber’s pole, a porn star), and she appears to be sliding a glazed doughnut down its length like a very weird game of ring toss. She nibbles on the doughnut and then licks the head of his penis.

“Mmm… sugar, lard and cock – there’s your well-rounded breakfast.”

Jack is grinning so broadly he’s afraid his skin will crack. “Where the hell did you get a doughnut?”

“Ivan went into town, blessed boy. Here, have a chocolate old-fashioned.”

He takes a chunk from the outer wing. It’s indescribably delicious, but then all his nerve endings have been reconstructed and the intelligence reports are questionable at best. Audrey continues nibbling her doughnut down to his dick, eyeing it with a concerned expression.

“This must be made use of, but we’re heading off in half an hour.”

“We are?”

“Focus, Jack, focus. We simply cannot afford a marathon session like last night… last night… Well. No need for lubrication now. What’s the nastiest position – the one that really gets your nuts churning?”

“I…” Jack can’t possibly just ask for what he wants, can he? Can he?

Audrey gives his thigh a hard smack.

“Ow!”

“Now, Jack. Tell me what you want. I’m fucking horny!”

“I… your rear end. I want to see it.”

“You want to see it bounce, don’t you? You want your own private porno. You dog.”

She runs a finger down his nose, runs her tongue along his ear and then pivots into the backwards cowgirl, straddling his cock, facing away. It’s now that Jack realizes they’re in Thompson’s bedroom, which makes it nastier, and then Audrey begins to churn those milk-white hips, which makes it nastier, and he knows that one more nastier will make him blow up.

“Think of someone else,” says Audrey, between gasps.

“What?”

“Someone cute and bouncy and young. Someone you shouldn’t be fucking at all. I want you to picture her bouncing on your dick. What’s her name, Jack? Tell me her name.”

His mind flies of its own accord to the perky brunette at the coffeehouse, her blue baby doll eyes and generous bubble ass. Oh, and the odd celebrity name. Madonna? He sees them in the manager’s office, after hours. She kneels to suck his cock, then takes off her jeans and turns around, her shoulder-length hair flapping as she rides. Oprah? Uma? Yoko?

“She’s fucking you, Jack! She’s about to come, Jack! She wants you to scream her name so she can come!”

“Cher! Cher! Cher!” He empties himself into her, in the manager’s office, and she, Liza Selena Dolly, begins to shake. “Cher! Cher! Oh, fuck me, Cher!”

A lost minute later, back in Thompson’s room, the perky brunette runs a hand through her red hair and throws a wicked smile over her shoulder.

“Jesus, pal. You catch on quick. But… Cher? I thought I ordered up sweet and innocent.”

Jack’s too stunned and blissed out to explain. “You’re a witch,” he says. “You should not know these things.”

Audrey disengages from his cock with an “ooh!” and says, “The truth about men is not so hard to learn, honey. It’s just hard for most women to accept the truth. I, on the other hand, have learned to harness the truth for my own evil purposes. Now go get cleaned up. Cher-fucker.”

Jack takes a deep breath, and heads for the shower.