Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Choke the Chicken

I was eating some beef jerky this weekend when I decided to try a little beef jerking of my own. Jasmine and I had caught an early movie and afterwards she headed over to Julie’s to sip hot tea and talk tampons or whatever the fuck they do. So there I was. All alone. With Big Jay.

Come on, buddy, it’s time to snap out of it.

I went into the bedroom, glancing around the corner as if she might walk in any minute, and slipped my hand between the mattresses. Oh yeah, there it is. I pulled it out and checked the title. Raunchy Redheads. Good enough. Chapter 3’s not so bad. What was that redhead’s name? Veronica?

I headed back to the living room, because porn is best when viewed across a 52 inch widescreen, and started it up.

“Scotch!” When was the last time I had any scotch? Damn. Months. I poured a short glass of scotch and dripped thee drops of water in, no more, no less. Don’t wanna destroy the flavor. Everything has to be perfect for Big Jay to get his groove on.


I patted my shit, just to make sure we were both aware of the trouble I was going through to seduce myself.

As I walked back into the living room I heard the music playing on the opening menu. I set down my scotch and gathered the other necessary supplies, hand towel, lotion and remote. On the way back to the couch I saw Jazz’s stretch mark cream, the stuff I rub on her belly all the time. Now we’re talking! That shit’s like silk. She’ll never know.

I sat down on the couch, spread my legs out in front me, selected Chapter 3 and hit play.

“Talk to me, Vicki.”

I warmed the stretch mark cream between my hands before grabbing the mighty staff. I didn’t give a damn if I had to go through the entire canister of cream, Big Jay was getting his tonight.

But as I watched Voluptuous Vicki do her thing on screen I struggled to stay focused. Every little thing caught my attention. Stop it! Focus! Ok. Here we go. Start pounding. Come on, come on, come on, no pressure, no pressure, oh yeah, here we go-

What was that noise? Was that the garage door? I froze. Oh, shit!

With my pants around my knees I jumped up and hobbled to the door. I cracked it open just a fraction. When I didn’t see anything I opened it a little wider and the motion sensor went off, turning on the light.

Fuck. I’m hearing things. I kept my hand on my boy the whole time, didn’t wanna risk losing momentum. I shut the door and hobbled back to the couch, plopped down and hit resume.

“Come on, Vicki, you can do it. You’ve been a bad secretary. No flowers for you. Open wide.”

It took a minute, but things picked up where they left off. Okay, this time we’re getting this shit done.

I began easy, applying just enough pressure as my fist slipped to the end and headed back down. And for that special loving feeling, I used both hands. Oh yeah, gentle squeeze, there you go, up and down, up and down, all right, fuck the left hand, just the right. There we go, just the end, squeeze, rotate, swirl, down, up, squeeze, all right now, let's pick up the pace a bit. Little more speed, not so fast – ok, fuck foreplay. It was time to flog the dog. Come on, now, let’s do it, come on, come on, come on, come on, almost, there, there, there it is, oh shit, oh shit-

My eyes crossed, my jaw dropped, my knees jerked and I painted the ceiling white.

Good boy. I never doubted you, buddy. Never.

I sat there panting while Vicki finished up on screen. I’m the man, the shit, the king, baby. Fuck’em, fuck’em all! Ten minutes later I was sound asleep.