the time i joined a cult again

i was on the couch thinking about a nap when the knocking started at the door

i didn’t want to get up but after a few minutes of not going away i did

it was her

‘i’m not home‘ i shouted over her fist banging against the wood ‘go away’

i turned to lay back down but all thoughts of a nap had fled my head

‘i just want to talk‘ she said through the door to my back and my shoulders slumped

no you don’t and we both know it, you want me to open the door and you will slide in here and next thing i know you will be trying to suck my soul out of my dick while i make you cum eight or nine times

then you will ride me like a thorobred and when we are both laying back exhausted you will say something shitty and piss me off and we will go at it again for another hour until neither of us can walk’

does that sound like a bad way to spend the day’ she asked, innocence and honey dripping off her words

it didn’t and it should, it shouldn’t and it did, i couldn’t yet i would, i wouldn’t though i did

‘it sounds like trouble, thank god i’m not home’

‘i’m not wearing any panties’

‘me neither, stop by goodwill and get yourself a pair, maybe you’ll run into me there’

i could see her glistening and wet, practically taste her, how the juice would run down my chin like a fresh peach, yet infinitely sweeter on my tongue

‘just let me in, please’

‘use your key’

‘you changed the locks’

i just chuckle at that, i did change the locks, and every password i ever had, closed accounts and reopened others, thought about using a fake name so she couldn’t track me back down again

i blocked every number she used and deleted emails without reading them

once upon a time i thought about forever with her, i was wrapped around her finger so tightly her dna seemed entwined with my own

come on, it’s hot out here’

‘i moved to guam, or israel, or somewhere in south america, joined a cult, already had the haircut so they took me in without question’

she stopped knocking and i made to lay back down

look out the peephole then’

i’m not a strong man, i’m not a smart man, so i looked and there she was with her shirt up and she didn’t mention she wasn’t wearing a bra

i don’t know if it was a trick of the sunlight, a deep seated need for doing the wrong thing, or just a hunger that swelled as i watched those two glorious breasts bounce through the tiny pieces of glass

i found myself inches farther from the door by necessity, the blood draining from my face and going somewhere much more productive, but i couldn’t stop staring, i wonder if she heard my hard on slap the wood

what’s your cult say about these’

‘that the quickest way to damnation is two giant tits bouncing outside a locked door’

‘just let me in, bury your face in my ass for a little while and then we can talk about cults’

yes my dick screamed, my brain just muttered something about chemical castration, my eyes were glued

‘don’t make me call the cops’

not when i’m this hard, this ready, this hungry and my will is just about gone, don’t make me open this door and give in to something that will only lead to pain

sweet and wondrous pain

the kind men fight wars over, stab each other in alleys, dream if and write epics over

helen of troy probably had an ass like that, tits that would cause men to huddle, half aroused in the back of a wicker horse for the mere chance of running their tongues down her sweet wet

and say what exactly, there is hot woman begging me to eat her out and showing me her breasts, they’ll probably come and do it instead’

‘only if they lack common sense, go away, i’m not home’

i decided to go to bed, with the door shut and the fan on i won’t have to worry about being led to temptation

i settle in and it is dark and cool and feels awfully nice, not as nice as sliding into her from behind while she bites down on the pillow to muffle her shouts, but it won’t try to stab me and steal my stuff or tell stories to anyone who will listen so i can accept the difference

i fall asleep and when i wake up my dick isn’t talking to me but he’ll get over it, my brain refusing to allow my heart to get rebroken is a small price to pay for little brain feeling neglected

i throw on some shorts and shoes and decide to take a walk and when i get outside i see something tucked under my windshield wiper

it’s the pair of panties she wasn’t wearing and a note

when you get back to the states unblock my number, you are a piece of shit but you know what you’re doing in the bedroom’

she’s right, i am a piece of shit

so i toss the note and the panties into the garbage can next to the mail box and pretend it never happened

some poor fool will find her, join the cult i barely escaped and maybe live to regret it all

and for fifteen minutes to two hours at a time it will be heavenly

and the rest will be hell

the kind that makes you pack your shit and join a cult where you shave intricate geometric shapes into your pubes and shoot maple syrup and cayenne pepper enemas in order to get closer to the aliens and farther from her

and yeah

maybe your dick stops talking to you for a while

but in the end

it’s worth the momentary discomfort

6 thoughts on “the time i joined a cult again

  1. hahahahahah this is brilliant! “use your key” hahahahahahhahahahaha
    I hope this piece made it into one of your short stories or books. hahahahahahah
    Very happy reading! Thanks Writer!

    Liked by 1 person

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