The Canvass

 

When your girlfriend is going down on you, you must be very quiet.  Especially when you’re on her parent’s living room sofa, and her mother is in the next room reading.  You must stare at the textured ceiling and count the cracks in the paint.  It will help you listen for her mother’s footsteps, should she come running.

Keep your hands on your girlfriend’s breasts and remain as excited as possible.  This needs to be over quickly, before her mother finishes her chapter.  That’s what your girlfriend whispered into your ear, anyway.  Back before she unzipped your pants and took you into her mouth.

You will bite your lower lip until it bleeds, but you won’t notice until you’ve wiped the happy tears away from your eyes with the throw pillow and found blood on the gray fabric.

The flicker of a page turning, the creak of a rocking chair settling.  All these sounds make you nervous as well as excited

The kitchen table is so close, your girlfriend’s mother casts a shadow onto the hardwood floor, rocking back and forth as she reads.

Your girlfriend knows how quickly this must come to an end, and she slips a finger inside your asshole to prove it.  The tip rubs against your prostate, making you thicker, making you bite your lower lip harder. Your girlfriend feels you growing inside her mouth and shoves her face into your lap with more force.  Her breathing escapes in warm huffs that warm the insides of your thighs. It tickles your balls, and it’s amazing, but not as amazing as the eruption building up throughout your body.

Your toes curl.  You bite your lip until blood oozes from your mouth, dripping from your chin and onto your bare chest.  You grab the back of your girlfriend’s head to make sure she takes everything you got, and then her muffled breathing becomes more frantic.

Your arms tighten against your girlfriend’s struggle for air, but your need for release is far more important than her need for air.  Then you learn she wasn’t having trouble breathing at all.  Her problems are much worse than that.

You explode inside her mouth.  The eruption forces your hands to your mouth, stifling the screams that helplessly squeal from your throat, but you’re not quick enough, and your girlfriend  lifts her head just in time to vomit on your lap.  It erupts with the same force as your semen, which rises up to meet her bile, combining into a liquid of purged love.  It all falls down onto your stomach, between your legs and onto the couch cushion where it weasels its way into your ass crack.

This is when your girlfriend removes her finger from your prostate and places it onto your chest, smearing your own shit onto your nipples, where it merges with your blood, turning your body into a canvass of gore.

It’s too late to do anything now, so you stare at the doorway, waiting for her mother to enter the room.  When she does, the horrified expression on her face pleases you, because she was the one you were thinking about the entire time you were inside her daughter’s mouth.  You pretended her breasts were in your hands, her finger was in your asshole, and you can’t help but smile at her.

This will be the last time you ever see her, so you burn her disgusted face into you memory, where it will remain, forever.