chapter*Dad
textscWinnie at her Facebook window. She’s showing us her friend. Candy is cock-hoarding my dick. I’ve got a Bic pen up my ass. Candy is jerking my ballsac. Her ass is in the air. She’s under the desk. Cock takes the pen out and now he’s fingering me. Winnie’s telling us stories. About her friend Macy. On Facebook. There’s a picture of Macy in panties that look like a diaper. I like that one. There’s a bulge in the front of her panties that looks like a dick if you think about it the right way. It’s her mound. She has a big mound. And thick lips. Winnie is telling us this. She tells the story directly in my ear, in whispers. That’s our way of communicating. That’s what we’ve decided we like. I tickle her and she tickles me. She doesn’t like to speak. I don’t like to go inside her. We prefer to keep it on the surface. We keep it soft. Winnie tells me a story about her and Macy taking a bath. Candy’s tongue is on the tip of my Cock. I pre-cum. My hand is on the mouse. Candy grabs my balls. I’m touching Cock’s nipple. That’s all he wants. Candy shared all his secrets. You touch his left nipple—the one to emphyour left if you’re facing him—Candy’s left—and you make him cum. It’s perfectly simple. She wishes he’d told her on their first date. In Winnie’s story—which is told in verse—there’s a lot of soap and rubbing. There are bubbles. There is lace. Winnie and Macy can make things wet and make things dry at will, somehow. They’re in the bath. They’re on a bed. Winnie makes me restart this video and I can’t tell what’s Facebook and what’s the video and there’s people from the video in the room. There’s people from this video in that video—cross’d over, underneath the screen. Somewhere out there I can hear the television. Hear the show. Somewhere there’s a baby crying. I think Liss had the remote control. Macy is sitting on top of Winnie and she’s holding her down. Their tickling becomes pressing and it’s no longer play. I think Winnie is leaving. I think I need to go outside. Candy/Cock is coming with me. Take Macy’s hand. Macy with nothing but her diaper. Take my hand.
We’re in streetlight. There’s the curb.
Broken marble statue.
Fragment.
Tone.