Page 34 of Body Count

His free hand touched my dick.The touch turned into a caress.

“All right,” he said.

The corrugated metal rang out softly as I let my head fall back.“Fuck.”

His breathing sounded like another laugh.

“You’ve got to tell me something,” I said.

“You’re pretty,” he said as he drew down my zipper.“And I want to suck your dick.”

He didn’t mess around.He knew what he was doing, and it only took him a couple of tries to take me in his throat.I lasted a few minutes after that.He must have known I was close because he pulled off, jerked me a couple of times, and then forced my dick down.It ached—close to hurting—and I came.My breathing was harsh.My load spattered against the grass.

He slapped my dick a couple of times, making it bob up and down, and I thought distantly it was like a weird congratulations.The way straight guys clapped each other on the ass and said,Good game.Or like I was a toy.A bobble-cock.

When he got to his feet, he touched the bulge in his pants.

“You going to do something about that?”I asked.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.“Nah.Break’s almost over.”

Then he hocked a loogie, smirked, and headed back inside.

I got in the car.I pulled out of the lot.It took me a quarter of a mile before I realized the headlights weren’t on.I left the stereo off.Anything louder than the hum of the tires, the hiss of the air conditioning, the breath high in my chest, and I thought I’d blow my brains out.

When I got home, I parked.I turned off the car.And then I sat there, the sticky warmth of the night crawling in as the air conditioning died.I closed my eyes.I saw the ember flaring when he drew.Nice teeth.The way his bone and muscle and flesh had felt solid under my hand.Real.The intensity of the orgasm, the ache of him forcing my dick between my legs, the way my whole body felt like it was being undone, coming apart at every joint.And then the soft, splattering sounds that, even alone in the car, made my face hot.I could smell the Marlboro Red on me.I thought, Thank God he didn’t try to kiss me.

I pulled down the visor.The little mirror on the back had a light.I looked at myself.The rivers of blood in one eye.The scars that had flattened but were still pink, impossible to miss.

The thing is: when something terrible happens, everyone thinks that after, you’re going to be different.

I flipped the visor up and got out of the car.I made my way around the back of the house.In the dark.I knew my way, avoiding the trash cans, my feet finding the paved path that led to the back door.

Everyone thinks you couldn’t possibly be the same.Even you think it.You believe it.This thing happened, this life-changing, world-ending thing, and there’s no way you could be the same.

Darnell had left the door unlocked for me again.We’d have to talk about that eventually.It was a small town.It was—if you didn’t count all the murders—a safe town.But you didn’t stay safe by making dumb choices like that.

He hadn’t left the lights on.I guessed I was still being punished.

I made my way to the bathroom in the dark.I’d leaked the last of my load into my briefs on the drive, and when I undressed, the cum spots were slimy and cold.I showered.I thought I could still smell the smoke in my hair, so I shampooed a second time.

You believe it—that everything’s going to be different.That life as you knew it was over, that it couldn’t possibly go on.But it did.And you were the same person you’d always been.

Just worse.

I dried off, hung up the towel, and left my clothes where they were.I’d get them in the morning before Darnell pickedthem up.

My bedroom door was closed.When I opened it, the air was foul.We’d had a snake die in the wall the summer before—they wanted to get into the basement, where it was cool, but sometimes they got stuck.Of course, sometimes they made it into the basement alive, and that was worse—that was Darnell’s job.I’d have to talk to him tomorrow.I’d have to ask him to check.Or fuck it, maybe I’d just call pest control and they could fish it out.The smell was bad enough that I thought maybe I’d sleep on the couch.Wouldn’t Darnell love that?

But I didn’t.I was exhausted.I’d pass out as soon as I hit the bed.I didn’t bother with the agony of turning on the lights.No point putting myself through that when I was just going to fall asleep.By this point, I knew how to walk in the dark.

When I reached the bed, I knew something was wrong.It was an impression more than anything else.A sense of something that shouldn’t have been there—the familiar geography of the blacked-out bedroom changed somehow.

I put out a hand.

It was cold, and that was why it took me a heartbeat to realize I was touching flesh.

I scrambled back.I slapped the switch.Lights blazed to life.

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