Pauline chokes on a scream and falls forward. At the same instant, her asshole collapses around my dick like a submarine reaching hull-crush depth. Total rectal implosion. As she pitches away from me, I discover why three condoms at one time was not actually a good idea. Pauline’s rectal muscles have clearly been worked out often over the years and developed impressively. Not only does her clamp-down and roll-out maneuver result in an explosion from me, she takes all three of my rubbers with her. My cock looks like a sausage being pulled from its casing.
Pauline turns on me fast and I realize that, oops, maybe that last shot was a bit too much. She’s got the eye of the tiger when she turns around and comes for me, anger etched on her worn face. But that’s not all that’s on her face.
Once the floodgates are open, it’s a bit hard to stop them. Pauline comes for me, but I come for her first. It’s a magnificent arc, a money shot worthy of one of Peter Oh’Tool’s Woodys for Best Facial of the Year. The timing is amazing.
Poor Pauline is blind. She jerks her head back, squinting against the shot she just took right between the eyes. She reaches for me, but I’m already off the bed and backpedaling for the door.
“Aw, you mother…”
She scrambles off the bed and lunges blindly forward, right into the dresser.
Ouch, that had to hurt. The sound of knee against cheap Sauder furniture is like a rifle report.
“OW! FUCK!”
Pauline grabs her right leg and pulls it toward her chest, hopping in place. Her free hand wipes at my semen in her eyes. My triple stack of rubbers dangles from her butt cheeks. She turns and hops toward me, waving her sticky hand in the air, grasping for something to pummel.
“ARRRR! You sorry motherfucker,” she says. “If you’re still here, you’re a dead man!”
And that’s my cue to scram.
The Angry Pirate
I listen at the door. In the neighboring room, Pauline continues to hop and stumble and throw things. I crack the door open and take a peek just as she comes hobbling out onto the balcony.
“Shit, she’s coming.” I step back from the door.
Mongo hops up from the edge of his bed where he’s been laughing and rubbing his hands together. He grabs a small handheld camera and hurries to the door. “Bonus footage,” he says gleefully.
I want no part of it and jump behind my bed. Mongo opens the door just as Pauline hobbles by, her eyes still squinted shut, my triple-stacker of rubbers hanging from her like a latex tail. Mongo quietly falls in behind her, grinning madly as he films away.
By the time he returns to the room, I’ve showered, dressed, and laid my suitcase out on the bed. I haven’t begun packing my stuff yet, but that was my intention. I can’t explain what stopped me from slipping out before he got back. I wanted to. Planned on it the second I got away from fair Pauline. But I can’t bring myself to do it.
Mongo is a bundle of excited energy. “Should have seen disgusting cougar whore,” he says as he hooks the camera up to the laptop on the work desk across from his bed. “Got amazing closeup of condoms in her buttcheeks bouncing around. Is like we script it this way.”
He looks from me to the suitcase on the bed and his rapey grin dissolves. “What is this we are having here?”
I’m not sure how to answer him so I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, Mongo.”
“What is not to be known?”
“I’m not sure if I can do this anymore.”
Mongo just laughs, but it’s a mirthless sound. “Of course you can. Watch footage from tonight. Will perk you back up for next challenge.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t want to watch the footage. I’d rather we burn it so it never sees the light of day. Christ, I just punched a woman as hard as I could so she would clench up her asshole to get me off. And then I blew my load right in her face.”
“Yes, was genius!”
“Genius? That was nasty!”
Mongo waves dismissively at me. “Nonsense. Nasty is relative term. Compared to other things in this world, money shot is not nasty. Is beautiful, even. You’ll see when you watch performance. Will make you next great star of porn after contest is finished. And on top of all, I have good news.”
I can’t imagine any good news coming from him at that moment, but I look at him with morbid curiosity.
His smile comes back and he rubs his hands together like he was doing earlier when I hightailed it into the room. “Good news is you are now in first place!”
Peter Oh’Tool’s face is waiting for me on the computer screen and he breaks out in a huge, cheesy smile when he sees me sit down in front of the webcam.
“Hey, Dennis! Congratulations!”
“Um, hi, Mr. Oh’Tool. Thanks, I guess.”
“I just finished watching the raw footage your cameraman sent over and I have to say, your performance so far has been tremendous. It’s everything that I had hoped for when we came up with the concept for this show. Regular Joes like yourself, sexual simpletons, if you will, rising to the occasion to perform like professionals when the pressure’s on.”
“Ah. Yeah. Cool.” Fuck, I don’t know what else to say. How do you respond to comments like that?
“And after tonight’s two-for, you’re in the lead, my friend.”
“Awesome. Wait… what do you mean, ‘two-for’?”
Peter’s voice kicks up an octave with excitement as he explains. “We had to tweak the order of the challenges a little bit, but you managed to pull off two of them tonight in one spectacular performance.”
“I did?”
“Yes, you did! First, you hung in like a trooper and went the distance to finish off that donkey punch but then you went the extra mile and snuck in an angry pirate!”
“An angry wha-wha?”
“Technically, there were a couple things not quite right with your angry pirate. You nailed the cumshot to the eyes to produce a squint, but for a proper AP, you were supposed to follow with a kick to the shin to get her hopping around like she has a ‘peg leg’.” He makes air quotes when he says peg leg.
“Your little bunny did that to herself tonight by running into the dresser, but the result ended up being the same — one pissed off bunny hopping around on one leg while squinting. The angry pirate! After careful consideration by our panel of judges, which consists of me, myself, and I, by the way, it was decided that the result is what really counted. The chick even shouted, ‘ARRR’ at one point. It was perfect! More importantly, it was also hilarious, and if I might say so, darn good television. Let’s see HBO’s Real Sex pull off some shit like that!”
I still don’t know what to say. Mongo claps his paw on my shoulder and smiles at me like a proud father. These two are happy as pigs in shit, but all I can think about is the ex-con running around outside somewhere wiping my DNA from her eyes and deciding which part of my body she was going to remove first.
“So, this puts me in first place then?”
“You got it! You’re one challenge ahead of the pack with five completed. You have five more to go. Halfway there!”
Which is about twice as far as I actually expected to get about four days ago. Shit, I just might be able win this thing.
Peter Oh’Tool says, “I gotta run now, but we’re sending over information on the next challenge. With the hot streak you’re on, I can’t wait to see what you do with this one. Ciao, compadre.”
I get up and walk to the other side of the room while Mongo takes my seat and bangs away at the keys. I stand at the foot of my bed, looking at my empty suitcase. I know the reason why I didn’t start packing now. It’s the reason why I ever agreed to do this show in the first place. Why I talked myself into getting butt-ass naked in front of a bunch of hidden cameras and letting some Armenian mongoloid film me in weird sexual situations with random barflies. The only reason all along.