THE SEX SCENE Part 2

for ns and all the real sex scene writers

TODD i've got him i've Got Him! in my mind i'm jumping up and down like a little boy who's burst the pinata, smiling while its garish guts flutter down. he leans back pouts as i roll his cock between my slicked-up palms, squirting drops of juice between my fingers. His shaggy balls jumped. I must get down to business

marcus aw fuck how am i going to explain this? the other times i was so fucked up dude or i just deny it completely or once or twice i needed the money how many times before you become quear?

it feels good of course i mean the faggots are right, a guy knows best how a guy wants his thing sucked and ow migod

TODD I want him to sodomize me, fuck me, whatever. i have a blackmarket vial of oxymyl inhalant, that ER drug that was banned the same week it hit the streets.
Wriggle my ass closer, rub against his hard bony hip and scrawny thighs. The upper part of marcus is porn quality definition for the shaved twinko muscular type, smooth naturally smooth chest, a dusting of belly hair, a twisting trail that covers a scar...
he's on his back looking up at me and i offer him the sniffer he takes it i descend my ass all slicked up OH he slides up into me like an alien probe but warm and pulsing
it can't be but i swear my ass feels the vein in his dick throbbing his eyes are closed i do all the work he clenches his fists and then grabs my legs he comes

marcus sleep i need sleep

The Deadhead - SEX SCENE part one

SEX SCENE

Marcus opens his eyes and winces. We learn that he's in bed with Todd, who's still asleep. A look at the clock - 412 am.
/was i that wasted?/

Todd's bedroom, four hours ago. T and Marcus are sitting on the edge of the bed doing long sloppy
lines. The boys take turns furtively peeping at each other.
- well Marcus what do you say?
- yeah uh sure ummKAY wow todd hold up a second.
The clang of that ridiculous hippie belt as Marcus' jeans hit the floor and get kicked out of the way.
In the intervals of Todd's ministrations, Marcus wonders how he can breathe with such a large object in his throat.
- whew Marcus i need some air. Yeah, smile for your humble servant and official cocksucker.
- official huh
- yeah i know this subdom ...
- sub - dum??
- submit or dominate
- m and s okay
- the bottom boy is slave to the top at least that's the facade he has to submit to
- aw man shut up and suck my goddamn COCK NOW..
- yeah you get the idea
- no i fuckin mean it
Marcus grabs a handful of Todd's hair and pulls him back into oral sex posture. They are both naked now that Todd's wriggled out of the ridiculous striped underwear he wore for the occasion.
He picks up where he left off, feeling happier than usual.

The Deadhead - a very short story

for M.B. and C.R.T.

The deadhead pushed his red hair out of his eyes and pulled a smelly bandanna from his rear pocket, the one that wasn't torn and patched. Probably an ordinance about ragged attire here in Homo Heights.
He felt like a housebreaker going up the little townhouse steps. The place was a castle. What did
Todd and Evan do for work nowadays? The last time he'd seen that little blonde motherfucker Evan
he'd been manning a falafel booth at an Alternative Party rally. Falafel must pay well.
- Oh heyy. It's the renegade scumbag.
Todd smiled and opened the screen door. He was skinny again, or at least not fat verging on obese. If Todd's skin didn't hang off him like a Shar Pei's , he would get laid more often and not be a park pervert. Talk about picnics under the trees.
- You got a pubic hair on your nose, dude. Check me out.
He was wearing a vivid tie dyed ensemble: white tee shirt, painter's pants and ugly boots. No underwear, of course. He capered around the living room, shaking his ass and wriggling his arms in some deadhead dance.
He was very tired but maybe if he gave horny Todd an exhibition now, the fat cocksucker might keep his hands to himself after the partying. The word "PARTY!!" with neon pink exclamation pts.
had been scrawled all over the back of Evan's museum shop postcard. ( The photo on the front would not have been legal under the old regime.)

Evan walked down the street like he owned the neighborhood. In a sense, he did. Welcome to the hub of homo heights, Marcus. The guy was a sweet fool and clown who had sold them marijuana, cocaine, gas in balloons ( once),primo hash and bootleg ludes made of pulverized Canadian diazepam. Marcus probably didn't have anything with him ( who knows when you live in Free Key Zone, once called Florida) so Evan had called his "caterer", a despicable person with links to the best a thriving pleasure industry could offer. Even his boy whores were relatively fresh.
He smiled proudly at his blonde curls as he mounted the steps and shrieked: there's some kinda hippy creature in my living room.

Tableaux: Marcus, rubbery legs intertwined, sitting back on the yellow sofa near the window. Evan and Todd napping in their personal chairs like someone's grandparents. A disgusting mess littered the coffee table. Small mirror, stray rails of powders, an odd pipe, metal straws, crumpled
bag of smoke, beer bottles, glasses with melting ice. An unopened bottle of champagne sat tilted in a gleaming pail.
Marcus awoke and took a quick survey of the room. Nap time, eh? You used to be able to main - tain. Must be all that liberated dick and ass making you soft and light. Marshmallow men. Todd had a bit of a hard-on in his sleep. Evan was still as a cadaver on a slab.
His head hurt. He hoped it wasn't another redheadache.
- Todd. hey Todd.
Todd opened one eye. - Yeah? He was hoarse from smoking.
- You got anything good, I mean good, for a headache?
- I have these new things, um, oxyhydrocodone that the doctor gave me for my ass. Then he opened his other eye and laughed.
- Sicko. Does one, you know ...
- I'll give you one cause they don't grow on trees except maybe in F.K.Z. If it still hurts afterwhile,
well, tough. I'll give you another one if you let me fuck you. It won't hurt as much haha.
- Man, do we have to ...
- Can't you take a joke? If I wanted a pay date he'd be cuter than you. Sorry. Here.
He shook two big white lozenges from a narrow vial and dropped them onto Marcus' upturned palm.

to be continued

.

A note on Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox

FANTASTIC MR. FOX( Wes Anderson co/w Noah Baumbach) An animated Wes Anderson film? The Darjeeling Limited had not seemed animate except for the Kinks song at the beginning and those kooky OTC Indian meds. But, dear me, FMF is hardly a feelgood movie but it certainly made me feel good. And I'll cuss up any one who says different. I've always loved puppetry and stop action animation ( I'll sit through any old cuss if Ray Harryhausen's name is on it). Anderson had me. My opinion of his other movies, except Bottle Rocket and The Royal Tenenbaums has always been mixed. Sometimes greatness, sometimes a cuss of a lot of visual frou -frou. For now, however, he and his fantastic cowriter Noah " son of Georgia Brown" Baumbach can do no wrong.