Toots grabs me and wants to go to the couch. I throw her on it and spread her thighs… . But I leave the lights on… . I’m seeing her as it is now but in the dark I might lose her… .
Anna must be dazed… . she sits on the floor and looks at us, shaking her head as though to clear it. Toots’s trap takes all my dong at once … she keeps asking me to turn out the lights … until the tickle in her tail takes her voice away
… . . she’s burning up; … it’s like embracing a furnace. I’m fucking her like an ape but she can’t get enough of it.
She goes limp in my arms… . she’s come and passed out again. I keep screwing her until Anna grabs my knees … she wants it now. She pulls Toots off the couch and jumps on me, scratching and biting like a tiger. We wrestle until I get her beneath me on her belly … Not that way, she gasps … But John Thursday squeezes his head into her rectum and wiggles up until he’s neck deep … Shit if she doesn’t split now, she never will… . . my dong spreads her like a wedge … .
and when I’ve got it in she likes it … While I’m ramming my cock into Anna I can look down at Toots lying sprawled on the floor with her legs apart so that I can see her fucked-out, juicy cunt … . it spreads while I watch it … it yawns cavernously, and I get the impression of standing on the edge of a smouldering volcano, peering over to see the sulphurous pit … I’m falling downward into the heart of that burning maw; flaming, brilliant sparks rush by me as I drop into the heat, the mystery… .
My face is being slapped. I push the hands away and sit up whirling. Anna is talking to me … I must have gone under. My God, if you came like that the first time you’d probably shit your pants and then cut your dick off with your old man’s razor… .
Anna says she wants another lay … but first there’s a little matter to attend to in the bathroom . . She wobbles out of sight and I sit on the couch looking down at Toots. Jesus, if Carl could see his swell cunt now he’d chew his tongue off…
I find Anna asleep in the bathroom. She’s sitting on the crapper, snoozing as peacefully as a baby. I’d leave her here but she’d probably fall off . . so I carry her into the bedroom and tuck her away. While I’m giving her a little feel before pulling the covers up Toots calls me from the other room. She comes into the bedroom and falls across Anna… . . Anna is completely gone … she doesn’t even move when Toots wraps her legs around her neck and rubs her fig with her mouth.
Toots wants to play the head to tail game with me. Shit, Toots is one cunt I could lick all night … I watch her wash my whiskers, and when she has my prick in her mouth I jump into her mop … I lick her thighs and her belly and before I arrive at her cunt she’s so hot she’s trying to turn her womb inside out.
These bitches are like something you dreamed about when you were fifteen …
they don’t wait for you to get it hard and ask them to suck it … they take it when it’s soft and maul it in their mouths until you have an erection. My prick looked like a wilted candle when Toots began to suck it . . but she straightened it out, she takes the wrinkles and creases away … .
The room is heavy with the stink of cunt juice. I smell of it, the bed smells of it
… it’s sneaked into every crack and corner of the place, and I wonder that the cats in the neighborhood haven’t assembled to howl outside the windows.
At times like this I can’t think of anything better … To have a fat ass in your hands, a cunt to hide your nose in, and a hot bitch trying to pull your cock off with her tongue … . that’s all a man could ask for in this world or any other. I lick the cunt juices from Toots’s thighs … if I push my dong any further in her mouth it will come squeezing out of her rectum, past my nose like a fat, red turd.
She’s coming and I fill her mouth with jism … But she doesn’t get all of it …
some of it goes onto the bed. That bitch staining my sheets! I make her lick it up and then I can’t think of anything better to do than wipe my cock on her hair… .
With both the cunts asleep on my bed there’s no place for me except the couch. But I’m not so positive that I care to be about when they wake up, head to tail, and begin to contemplate their sins … so I take my toothbrush and go to a hotel. They’re curled up like kittens when I leave them and Anna is poking her nose into Toots’s bush… .
I don’t want to die. Today I take half a dozen of my books to the binders … two of them are beyond repair and have to be discarded. I hadn’t noticed they were dying, that the paper was becoming too brittle to hold the thread … but they’re finished, and I bought them only last week or the week before … . when I was in America of course. Where else but in America could you buy a book so shoddy that it was ready for the ash heap before the man who bought it? But time is passing.
These pricks who tell you that in five or fifty years they will be ready to give up the ghost … how in Christ’s name can a man say something like that? There’s too much to see, too much to do, and as long as you’re alive it should be impossible to get tired of possessing that tiny spark of consciousness … .
As long as you’re alive! But we live in a land of ghosts. The world is half dead before it’s born. People straddle their lives with one foot in the grave and the other still sticking in the womb … they never grow up and they’re old from the first second they utter the first squawk of protest on finding they’re out on their own… …
Alexandra comes to see me after an exchange of notes. She’s up to her ears in Catholicism, and beyond… . Satanism is attracting her. She talks of magic, black and white, of the Rosicrucians, of succubi, and incubi, of the black mass … . Oh, she has it all pat, she knows all the words, and she acts so serious that I’m ready to believe that her mind is affected.
She has decided now that she has to learn something about a certain defrocked canon who is supposed to have gathered about him a group of devil’s disciples and celebrates the black mass here in Paris. From him, she hears that women have been known to receive the faculty of incubacy! And it would be so charming to be able to go to bed, be visited by, let us say, Byron, or some man who, for reasons of prudence, etc., etc., is otherwise unattainable.
And she believes that stuff! She’s been reading tons of books on the subjects, she tells me, and her confessor is quite angry with her. Do I know for instance, she inquires, that there are over twenty-seven known societies scattered about the world, the members of which have dedicated themselves to the worship of Anti-Christ? She speaks of spells and incantations, of fevers and various maladies transmitted by means of hypnosis and spirits. Hell, to hear her talk you’d think that she consorted with spooks and goblins every night. Even alchemy enters the conversation … she has lists of the great fakirs of the ages linked up in her head, and I’m told that in France alone there are twenty-seven transmutists’ furnaces lighted at night.
It’s impossible to fuck a woman in that condition. I’d as soon lay some cunt from an asylum. To tell the truth, I’m glad to be rid of her, and when she’s gone I still feel the chill she’s left. It isn’t the demons and larvae that bothers me.
Toots makes her contribution to my week. Toots and Peter! The rich American Toots has been trying to snag expresses a desire to meet some other, any other, Americans living in Paris … he is homesick and subject to that disease which makes tourists feel that a person who has been anywhere within two thousand miles of their original home is a brother to be bothered and beshitted with effusiveness and confidences. So Toots brings him around.
He’s not such a pain in the ass as I expected him to be … that may be because both he and the cunt are feeling gay … . they have made a grand tour of the neighborhood bars. He isn’t so old, either … why he hasn’t laid Toots before now isn’t clear … . . she’s getting desperate … . She sits on his lap and wiggles her ass
