Ronnie Smith and the Blow Job
	I had this fucking slut bent over and pounding it. She was screaming and biting the pillow.  I envisioned myself as a god. Quite frankly, I was, dammit!      I was at cousin Stevie's party, which has its days. Stevie idolizes me because I'm so damn fucking cool. Anyway, Stevie is ten years younger than I, so the sluts at this place have just been let out of the wrapper. The one I'm banging at this moment is a pure cookie cutter.  She still looks at sex as some sentimental shit like daisies and bunny rabbits. Well, the Easter bunny tonight is balls deep and littering all over the freeway.      The fucked up thing about this is when two queers walk in while I'm in the act. I don't mind folks watching, but these dudes start groping one another and I'm not having that shit. “Hey, you two tinkerbells take your ass on down the hall!”      One gave me the eat shit look while the other is scoping out my nuts like it was his birthday. “What the fuck are you staring out prick?” After those two left it took forever to get this broad in the mood again.      I spent the night under a relentless banter of her plans and how she was going to save the world. How she needed an older man to stabilize her life. Have you ever heard such horseshit? “Damn, if you're going to beat your gums, here's a whistle!” No wonder these college professors never get a real job, these little naive pieces of snatch give nice rim jobs.      The party has crashed and my head is fucking aching. I hate to admit it but old age sucks. You just can't hang with these kids. This little bitch is still spouting politics and rain forests.  It’s just time for me to pass out. I'm sleeping and having this amazing dream that I was in a Burt Reynolds movie and he was sucking hind tit to me. I was the fucking star, sluts hanging in between both arms. Poor Burt stuck with the fatties and the overbite chicks. “Action, yes my shit does not stink!”      I get this strange sensation, I got this piss hard on and it's getting stroked. Those lips are smacking.  My balls are being caressed. This little cooze has my head reeling. I cum and I hear a nice mmm! I open one eye and that fucking queer that was checking out my balls earlier tonight was giving me a tongue bath. I was incensed. I was frightened. He was squeezing out that last drop peering over my erect cock with this smug look. I reached back and hit this bastard right in the snout. I find one of my boots on the floor and start hitting him over the head with the heel of it. He's whimpering and people start to gather in the room.      Stevie has this look on his face of shock and disappointment. I have cum all over my belly and inner thigh. It was obvious to everyone that this queer and I were fucking. I drive a knee under the chin of this fag and knock him unconscious. Grab my shit and go. “Nice fucking party Stevie, I didn't know you had a thing for fudge packers, you little shit!” I push Stevie onto the back of his ass and walk over him. In my car, I screw in a Marlboro Menthol and think of the old lady.      Maybe some of this shit is coming back to haunt me. Maybe I should commit again to being happily married. “That fucking little fairy!” I turn in my driveway and lock myself in the garage the rest of the day.      The old lady beats on the door, “Stevie is on the phone!” “Tell that little son of a bitch, I'll kick his fucking ass if he ever pokes his head around here again!” I hear the old lady walk up the stairs. Screw in another Marlboro Menthol and reflect.      I think about my act of violence and feel some shame for it. The feeling eats at me constantly. The rage festers and recedes by the hour. The feeling of that blow job and really how incredible it was.