King of the Perverts (7 page)

“Oh, yeah. I see her.”

Jack says, “She’s probably your best bet at this point. I even dropped your name to her. That’s probably why she’s watching you and doing odd things with her straw that she evidently thinks are attractive to the opposite sex. She’s been married four times, had three abortions and a miscarriage, been to jail, and suffers from an acute addiction to methamphetamines in its gaseous form.”

“Damn, you learned all that about her already?”

“Yes. It’s not hard to get desperate women talking, as long as it’s about themselves. It’s part of their self-destructive nature to try to transfer their problems onto those around them.”

“OK, understood, Jack. I don’t need the psych lesson here.”

“Ten-four. Like I said, she has your name, likes your appearance, and would make a very viable candidate for receiving the
donkey punch
. There’s even a decent chance she might enjoy such rough handling. But I would strongly suggest using a very reliable form of protection from sexually transmitted diseases, because there is a high probability that her vagina is teeming with them.”

I turn away from the walking spirochete at the end of the bar to look at Jack. Once you get past the pedophile spectacles and the unsettling cadence of his voice, he’s really not a bad guy. I extend my hand and say, “Good thinking. Thanks Jack, it was a pleasure meeting you and I appreciate the assist.”

Jack turns away from my hand. He says, “Sorry, but I don’t do well with physical contact. And you’re welcome. Go get her, Your Highness.”

The Donkey Punch

“Hi sugar, I’m Pauline.”

I didn’t even have to move. She came to me. I had just drained my glass and was working myself up for a trip to the pisser before stumbling over to her spot at the bar, but I guess as soon as Jack left, she zeroed in.

I stick out a hand and say, “Hi Pauline, name’s Dennis.” Then I sit there and wonder why the fuck I’m talking like Roy Rogers all of a sudden.

She grabs my hand and I immediately regret having offered it. She sits next to me in a grand display of clanging, over-sized jewelry, and I resist the urge to wipe her hepatitis handshake on my pants. Pauline smells of cheap drugstore perfume, a lot of it, and she doesn’t look too healthy up close. From the other end of the bar she didn’t exactly appear to be fit as a fiddle, but sitting right next to me, my skin is crawling. Poor girl has clearly seen some rough times over the years, as evidenced by the half-moon shaped scar under her right eye.

“So, I heard a rumor about you.”

Uh-oh.

“Oh yeah? What kind of rumor.”

Pauline leans closer and says in a cigarette-and-gin infused fog, “Word is you’re a TV star.”

I laugh and look around for Jack Mehoff, but he seems to have disappeared. “Well, I’m not sure what people have been saying, but that’s not entirely accurate.”

Pauline sidles right up next to me and places her lips against my left ear. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “I won’t say nothing about the show. I know it will get you disqualified.”

I pull back and look at her. She’s got a wild, excited look in her eyes. I don’t know what all Jack told her, but it must have been enough.

She pulls me close again and says, “I want on the show. And you don’t have to worry about a thing. I like the rough stuff.”

So much for small talk. Ten minutes later, we’re in her pickup truck, heading for the motel.

•

Life is filled with many questions.

Why is the sky blue?

Is there an afterlife?

Why am I here?

And of course: Is it possible to wear three condoms at once?

I don’t know the answers to any of those yet, but I’ll be fucked if I leave this bathroom before I come to a definitive conclusion on that last one.

•

I’m thankful for many things. You might not think it based on what you’ve read so far, but I promise, I am truly appreciative for certain little things.

Viagra is one of those things. Vodka is another.

Without those two beauties, I would not be where I am right now. And where I am right now is coupled to the anus of a very bony, very loose, very frightening woman who I have come to learn quite a bit about.

The following is true of fair Pauline:

–
She has been to prison. More than once. And not as a visitor.

–
She has quite probably committed murder, or at the very least a form of extremely aggravated manslaughter. I gather this is the reason she was in prison, and I very much hope it’s not the reason she was in prison more than once.

–
She actually prefers anal sex to vaginal sex. Says it feels better, she does. While she talks about the difference between her rectum and her vagina, I can’t stop imagining a long, wide, cold, dusty hallway.

–
The last man to lay a fist on her is now collecting disability checks from the government and goes by the new nickname of “Lefty”. And he might also be her uncle.

These are things Pauline has related to me while I’ve spent the past twenty minutes pounding her bottom with what she calls my
‘
flesh hammer
’
. It confuses me to learn that the woman who claims to enjoy the rough stuff, in her words, is also the same woman who allegedly severed the hand of a relative after he struck her.

And I have to
donkey punch
this woman in the kidney.

What will she do? Get pissed and cut off my dick? Or will she like it? Will the punch be considered the
‘
rough stuff
’
and lead to a positive response? Why did she hack off her uncle’s hand? Was it because he punched her outside the sexual arena? Has she ever had sex with her uncle? OK, probably a dumb question. More like, how often did she have sex with her uncle? From what I’ve learned of her so far, that seems to be the more apt query.

She’s still talking. I’m having sex with her butt and she’s talking like we’re sitting at breakfast having a cup of coffee and trying to decide if we want to go to Home Depot or Menards to pick up wallpaper. Only in this case, Home Depot is more like
‘
my cocksucker of a second husband
’
and picking up wallpaper is
‘
impaled his ball sac with a Phillip’s head screwdriver
’
. The matter-of-fact tone she uses when discussing things I’ve only ever heard about on an episode of
Dateline
  is rather disconcerting.

And in the back of my mind, I can hear Mongo. He’s certainly getting antsy in the other room, spitting Slovakian cuss words at me to hurry the hell up and get this over with. And I have to agree with him here. I need to just grow some balls and take care of business. I don’t know how much more of Pauline I can take, and even Viagra wears off at some point.

But I can’t pull the trigger just yet. I have doubts. Fears about the well being of my appendages. She already told me she likes it rough, right? Isn’t that basically a free pass to attempt a simple
donkey punch
?

Good God, is this how rapists rationalize their actions?

Goddammit, stop this shit! Just give her a quick thump and get the fuck out of here!

Right. Just do that and it will be all over.

Pauline is
still
talking, and I think maybe she’s doing it for the cameras. She knows she’s being filmed. She wants to be a TV star. She’s expecting something to happen. She’s waiting for me to do it. She already knows it’s coming, she said so herself. So what the fuck is my problem?

Probably, I don’t have any fucking desire to punch a woman, that’s what. Shit. I need another drink.

No, this is it. Just punch this chick already.

OK. Here goes. This time for sure.

I raise my right fist. I try not to think about Uncle
Lefty
and his missing hand. I close my eyes and swing.

“Ah, there you are,” Pauline says. “I was wondering if you fell asleep back there.”

Nothing happens. Did I not hit her hard enough?

“Come on, I thought you were a tough guy,” she says. “That all you got?”

She’s looking back over her shoulder with a mocking smirk. Apparently my rough stuff is not very rough at all. I swing again, a little harder, and with my eyes open this time. I connect just below her ribcage, which is quite visible through her skin, like I’m fucking a skeleton covered in a sheet. This time I feel something, a tightening of her asshole. It sends a tiny electric shock through me.

“Yeah, now we’re talking,” she says. “Come on hardass, hit me.”

So I do. She squeezes me tighter.

“Yeah! Again!”

And I do, again, harder.

And again. She’s backing into me in earnest now and I wonder if she has any nerve endings at all in her rectum, or if perhaps she’d had a pneumatic tube installed back there at some point. Each blow results in a tighter squeeze and it actually starts to feel pretty incredible, even with three rubbers on.

I hit her three more times, a quick boxing combo of left-right-left and her body shudders and her asshole clamps down hard on my shaft.

“Come on, motherfucker!” She sounds angry now, but she continues to ram her sharp pelvic bones into my hips. “Let’s go, bitch!”

I’m getting close now. Time to finish this shit like Mortal Kombat. I raise both fists and bring the pain. Two perfectly placed shots to the kidneys. The Double Hammer Fist. Game over, motherfucker.

Pauline chokes on a scream and falls forward. At the same instant, her asshole collapses around my dick like a submarine reaching hull-crush depth. Total rectal implosion. As she pitches away from me, I discover why three condoms at one time was not actually a good idea. Pauline’s rectal muscles have clearly been worked out often over the years and developed impressively. Not only does her clamp-down and roll-out maneuver result in an explosion from me, she takes all three of my rubbers with her. My cock looks like a sausage being pulled from its casing.

Pauline turns on me fast and I realize that, oops, maybe that last shot was a bit too much. She’s got the eye of the tiger when she turns around and comes for me, anger etched on her worn face. But that’s not all that’s on her face.

Once the floodgates are open, it’s a bit hard to stop them. Pauline comes for me, but I come for her first. It’s a magnificent arc, a money shot worthy of one of Peter Oh’Tool’s Woodys for Best Facial of the Year. The timing is amazing.

Poor Pauline is blind. She jerks her head back, squinting against the shot she just took right between the eyes. She reaches for me, but I’m already off the bed and backpedaling for the door.

“Aw, you mother…”

She scrambles off the bed and lunges blindly forward, right into the dresser.

Ouch, that had to hurt. The sound of knee against cheap Sauder furniture is like a rifle report.

“OW! FUCK!”

Pauline grabs her right leg and pulls it toward her chest, hopping in place. Her free hand wipes at my semen in her eyes. My triple stack of rubbers dangles from her butt cheeks. She turns and hops toward me, waving her sticky hand in the air, grasping for something to pummel.

“ARRRR! You sorry motherfucker,” she says. “If you’re still here, you’re a dead man!”

And that’s my cue to scram.

The Angry Pirate

I listen at the door. In the neighboring room, Pauline continues to hop and stumble and throw things. I crack the door open and take a peek just as she comes hobbling out onto the balcony.

“Shit, she’s coming.” I step back from the door.

Mongo hops up from the edge of his bed where he’s been laughing and rubbing his hands together. He grabs a small handheld camera and hurries to the door. “Bonus footage,” he says gleefully.

I want no part of it and jump behind my bed. Mongo opens the door just as Pauline hobbles by, her eyes still squinted shut, my triple-stacker of rubbers hanging from her like a latex tail. Mongo quietly falls in behind her, grinning madly as he films away.

By the time he returns to the room, I’ve showered, dressed, and laid my suitcase out on the bed. I haven’t begun packing my stuff yet, but that was my intention. I can’t explain what stopped me from slipping out before he got back. I wanted to. Planned on it the second I got away from fair Pauline. But I can’t bring myself to do it.

Mongo is a bundle of excited energy. “Should have seen disgusting cougar whore,” he says as he hooks the camera up to the laptop on the work desk across from his bed. “Got amazing closeup of condoms in her buttcheeks bouncing around. Is like we script it this way.”

He looks from me to the suitcase on the bed and his rapey grin dissolves. “What is this we are having here?”

I’m not sure how to answer him so I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, Mongo.”

“What is not to be known?”

“I’m not sure if I can do this anymore.”

Mongo just laughs, but it’s a mirthless sound. “Of course you can. Watch footage from tonight. Will perk you back up for next challenge.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t want to watch the footage. I’d rather we burn it so it never sees the light of day. Christ, I just punched a woman as hard as I could so she would clench up her asshole to get me off. And then I blew my load right in her face.”

“Yes, was genius!”

“Genius? That was nasty!”

Mongo wave
s
dismissively at me. “Nonsense. Nasty is relative term. Compared to other things in this world, money shot is not nasty. Is beautiful, even. You’ll see when you watch performance. Will make you next great star of porn after contest is finished. And on top
of all
, I have good news.”

I
can’t
imagine any good news coming from him at that moment, but I look at him with morbid curiosity.

His smile
comes
back and he rub
s
his hands together like he
was
doing earlier when I hightailed it into the room. “Good news is you are now in first place!”

•

Peter Oh’Tool’s face is waiting for me on the computer screen and he breaks out in a huge, cheesy smile when he sees me sit down in front of the webcam.

“Hey, Dennis! Congratulations!”

“Um, hi, Mr. Oh’Tool. Thanks, I guess.”

“I just finished watching the raw footage your cameraman sent over and I have to say, your performance so far has been tremendous. It’s everything that I had hoped for when we came up with the concept for this show. Regular Joes like yourself, sexual simpletons, if you will, rising to the occasion to perform like professionals when the pressure’s on.”

“Ah. Yeah. Cool.” Fuck, I don’t know what else to say. How do you respond to comments like that?

“And after tonight’s two-for, you’re in the lead, my friend.”

“Awesome. Wait… what do you mean, ‘two-for’?”

Peter’s voice kicks up an octave with excitement as he explains. “We had to tweak the order of the challenges a little bit, but you managed to pull off two of them tonight in one spectacular performance.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did! First, you hung in like a trooper and went the distance to finish off that
donkey punch
but then you went the extra mile and snuck in an
angry pirate
!”

“An angry wha-wha?”

“Technically, there were a couple things not quite right with your
angry pirate
. You nailed the cumshot to the eyes to produce a squint, but for a proper AP, you were supposed to follow with a kick to the shin to get her hopping around like she has a ‘peg leg’.” He makes air quotes when he says peg leg.

“Your little bunny did that to herself tonight by running into the dresser, but the result ended up being the same – one pissed off bunny hopping around on one leg while squinting. The
angry pirate
! After careful consideration by our panel of judges, which consists of me, myself, and I, by the way, it was decided that the result is what really counted. The chick even shouted, ‘ARRR’ at one point. It was perfect! More importantly, it was also hilarious, and if I might say so, darn good television. Let’s see HBO’s
Real Sex
pull off some shit like that!”

I still don’t know what to say. Mongo claps his paw on my shoulder and smiles at me like a proud father. These two are happy as pigs in shit, but all I can think about is the ex-con running around outside somewhere wiping my DNA from her eyes and deciding which part of my body she was going to remove first.

“So, this puts me in first place then?”

“You got it! You’re one challenge ahead of the pack with five completed. You have five more to go. Halfway there!”

Which is about twice as far as I actually expected to get about four days ago. Shit, I just might be able win this thing.

Peter Oh’Tool says, “I gotta run now, but we’re sending over information on the next challenge. With the hot streak you’re on, I can’t
wait
to see what you do with this one. Ciao, compadre.”

I get up and walk to the other side of the room while Mongo takes my seat and bangs away at the keys. I stand at the foot of my bed, looking at my empty suitcase. I know the reason why I didn’t start packing now. It’s the reason why I ever agreed to do this show in the first place. Why I talked myself into getting butt-ass naked in front of a bunch of hidden cameras and letting some Armenian mongoloid film me in weird sexual situations with random barflies. The only reason all along.

I want to win that million dollars.

And maybe I need to win it. To buy my way out of this fucked up life I’m stuck in.

To get away from this shithole of a town in this armpit of a state.

To forget about my disgusting tramp of an ex-wife.

To start new, in a new place, with a new life. That’s what I really want. All I have to do is endure a little longer.

I bend down and close my empty suitcase. As I set it back on the floor next to the bed, Mongo turns in his chair and claps his paws excitedly.

“We have next challenge,” he says. “
Dirty sanchez
!”