Yo A$$ Is GRA$$: Tales From a Rednek Gangsta

by Jimmy M. F. Pudge

  THE END

  The Parade

  Red Oaks wasn’t a particular picturesque town. It had one postal box for outgoing mail that sat in front of a small gas station that sold mainly canned goods, cigarettes and cold beer. The post office, a small brick building that also contained the town’s public library, sat beside the gas station. Other than that, the only scenic thing about Red Oaks was the trees lining the highway.

  The population was about 150, and the people sprinkled the woods with small houses that sat at the end of dirt driveways. Many had never been too far out of town. The children would take the bus to the nearest school, twenty miles down the highway, and the parents would farm the land, much like their parents and grandparents had before them. A good bit of the folks were closely related, all of them distantly connected to the same family tree in some way.

  Once a year, the town held a parade in honor of the founding of Red Oaks. The people would line up outside the gas station, the mayor wearing his best suit and Sunday hat, waiting for travelers to pull in. Some years, they might be standing there all day before a vehicle decided to stop. Today, as it turned out, they only had to wait about ten minutes.

  A green Taurus coasted into the gas station. Soup cans were tied to the bumper, JUST MARRIED, written on the back window. A happy looking fellow jumped out, oblivious to all the eyes upon him.

  He grabbed the nozzle and stuck it in the gas tank. He whistled as the numbers rolled.

  “Say there, boy,” the mayor said, approaching the stranger, removing his straw hat. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

  “Sure,” the kid said.

  “I see you just got married.”

  “Yes, sir. Three days ago. We’re heading back from the honeymoon.”

  “That’s real nice,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  The kid nodded his head, turned to the gas nozzle and pulled it out the tank.

  “Listen, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to be the Grand Marshall of this year’s parade.”

  “Say what?” the boy asked.

  “Every year we ask an out-of-towner to sit on top of the big Red Oaks float. The townsfolk walk along with the float, down the road aways, in honor of its birth.”

  “That’s pretty weird,” the kid said, screwing the lid back on the gas tank. “I think I’ll pass.”

  The mayor nodded his head. “Alright then,” he said. “We’ll find someone one else to give five hundred bucks to.”

  “Five hundred dollars?” the boy said. “To ride on a float?”

  “Yep,” the mayor said.

  “Let me ask my wife.”

  The boy knocked on the window of the Taurus and motioned for the girl to step out the vehicle. The door opened and a cute, little blond thing, wearing a tight blue dress with bulging tits stepped out.

  “What?” the girl asked.

  “Rebecca, baby, this man here says he’ll give us five hundred dollars to ride on a float.”

  “Really?” the girl asked.

  The mayor nodded his head. “Uh huh. You want to ride the float, darling?”

  Rebecca’s eyes lit up, and a huge smile stretched across her face. “Let’s do it, Randy!” she said. “Let’s ride the float.”

  Randy shrugged. “Alright, then. Give me the five hundred first, and we’ll do it.”

  “Certainly,” the mayor said. He pulled out a wallet, counted five hundred dollar bills and sat them carefully in the boy’s outstretched palm.

  Randy grinned. “Where’s the float at?”

  “Right over yonder,” the mayor said, pointing to the left of them.

  Randy turned his head and was shocked to see a crowd of people standing on both sides of what appeared to be a small utility trailer hitched to a red truck. For shit’s sake, them people had been here the whole time, and he hadn’t noticed them once. That was kind of creepy. Even now, they stared at him in awkward silence. Wasn’t a sound but the gnats buzzing in his ears. “You call that a float?” Randy asked.

  The mayor examined the couple carefully. “Y’all sure you want to do this?”

  Randy glanced over at his wife, who was nodding her head rapidly. Her cheeks were flushed. In high school Rebecca’s only dream was to be Homecoming Queen, but she had been about twenty pounds too heavy to be a contender. He remembered standing beside her in the street during the Homecoming Parade, her chubby face red with anger.

  “Hell, we’ll do it,” Randy said.

  “Good man!” the mayor said, slapping his shoulder. “I just need y’all to head on into the store and tell Buck to hand you your costumes.”

  “Costumes?” Randy asked.

  “Costumes!” Rebecca shouted. “You mean we get to wear costumes!” she said, jumping up and down like a little girl at a Justin Beiber concert.

  “Yep. You gotta wear the costumes if you’re gonna be in the parade.” The mayor took a step toward the gas station and motioned them to follow.

  “This is fucking weird,” Randy whispered to Rebecca.

  “Don’t you ruin this for me,” Rebecca grunted, her breasts threatening to pop out of the tight blue dress. “And get your eyes off my tits.”

  “This is fucked up,” Randy said to himself, his hand slipping into his pocket for a can of Copenhagen. He pulled the lid off and took out one of the dipping pouches, tossing it into his mouth. His gums burned with pleasure as he rolled it around in his mouth, from cheek-to-cheek. He bit down on the pouch, extracting juice. He spat on the ground as the mayor opened the door.

  “Right this way,” the mayor said.

  The couple walked inside, Randy’s eyes studying the dark interior of the store. It smelled of mold and years of beers being busted on the floor and not mopped up.

  Rebecca seemed oblivious to it all, her chubby cheeks moving along with her mouth as she told the mayor it had always been her dream in life to be on top a float.

  “Well, sometimes dreams really do come true,” the mayor winked. “Ernest, the costumes please!”

  A man emerged from the shadows in the corner.

  “Oh yes,” Ernest said. “What a lovely pair.” He slithered up to the newlyweds, grimy hands clutching what appeared to be two white and neatly folded bed sheets, and handed them over to Randy.

  Randy took the sheets, a frown on his face. “These are the costumes?”

  “Yes,” the mayor said. “Those are the costumes. Togas in fact. This town was founded on some ancient Roman gods son. The grand marshal got to wear the toga in order to appease the gods.” He winked at Randy. “Course, you want to slip me that five-hundred back, that’s fine too.”

  “No, I’ll wear the goddamn toga,” Randy said.

  “Fine,” the mayor said. “Good. Good. The bathroom’s back over yonder,” he said, pointing toward the shadows in the corner of the store. “Just head on back there and change real quick.”

  Rebecca ran ahead of him, practically flying down the candy aisle, excited as a child on Christmas morning.

  Randy walked into the restroom behind her, closed the door, and let out a sigh. “This is just too weird. Don’t you think this is weird?”

  “Eww…” Rebecca said, staring into the toilet. “When was the last time this thing was cleaned.”

  “You don’t think this shit’s strange? Not just a bit?”

  Rebecca slid out of her dress, the garment falling to her ankles. “You need to relax. Why don’t you just come over here and slip it in me?”

  “Right now?” Randy asked, his throat suddenly dry.

  Rebecca lifted her bra up, releasing her breasts, the brown nipples hard, jutting out like pencil erasers. “I want you to fuck me, right here, right now, tiger.”

  “What if they hear us?”

  Rebecca lifted her breast and licked the nipple. “So what?” she said.

  Randy’s pants fell to the floor and he moved as fast as possible across the grimy surface of the restroom, tripping up in his pants halfway across, almost falling on
crusted yellow piss. He caught his balance, then flung himself on Rebecca, mashing her up against the wall, lifting her up, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Her hand pulling at his dick, guiding it into her tight, wet pussy.

  “Fuck me hard you bastard!” she screamed, clawing at his back, tightening her legs around his waist.

  “I’m fucking you!” he screamed, pumping as quickly as he could, standing on his tiptoes like a ballerina.

  Randy lasted for almost two minutes before Rebecca started moaning and clawed at his face.

  He exploded inside of her, letting out a Tarzan roar, his legs weakening.

  She rested her head against his, both breathing heavily but in unison.

  “That was nice, you motherfucker,” she whispered in his ear.

  He lowered her to the floor, grabbed a breast and gently sucked on it. “Think that was good, wait until tonight.”

  “Oh yeah?” she said, grabbing her toga off the dirty bathroom floor.

  “Yeah,” he said, helping her slide it on.

  They walked out of the restroom, dressed in their white bed sheets, Randy feeling strange in the garment.

  The mayor smiled slyly. “Have any problems getting it on in there?”

  “Say what?” Randy asked.

  “Did you have any problems figuring out how to put your toga on in the john?”

  “Not at all!” Rebecca said.

  “That’s marvelous,” the mayor said. “That’s really marvelous.”

  They walked out of the store into the blistering heat, and Randy wished he had wiped all the sex off because he could feel it down there, rubbing his thighs raw under the bed sheet.

  The people began clapping as they approached in their stupid fucking togas. All of the townsfolk’s expressions were identical, Randy noticed. Their vacant gazes in their vacant eyes were identical. He felt as if he were at a family reunion.

  He climbed on the trailer, helped Rebecca up, whispering for her to clamp down to the back of that toga. That way no one could get a view of those luscious ass cheeks.

  Randy wondered why he had decided to wear nothing but the toga. Surely he could have worn his underwear under the sheet.

  Rebecca was nude too, and in the sunlight he could see the shadows of her areolas through the thin fabric. The thatch of pubic hair between her legs was also slightly visible. His dick throbbed with need.

  “Now, now,” the mayor said to the married couple on top of the town’s float, “If y’all will notice the two buckets of candy on the float, just toss pieces out to the people as we march along side you.”

  Randy saw the candy, his eyes moving back to Rebecca’s body. He wanted to tear that ass up.

  Rebecca was also staring at him. She licked her lips and ran a finger along her body, heading south, teasing, stopping inches a way from her pleasure zone.

  Randy looked out at the faces in the crowd. It was odd for them to be throwing candy out. There wasn’t a single child in attendance.

  The red truck came to life, and the trailer rattled under his feet. He grabbed two handfuls of candy and tossed it at the crowd.

  The truck took off slowly, the trailer now in motion. Candy being tossed to the townspeople who all looked alike.

  Down the abandoned highway with the bad road, pothole after pothole, throwing him off balance.

  His wife in her translucent bed sheet, an animal look in her eyes, crawling across the float to him.

  More candy tossed. Members of the crowd fighting over it.

  A turn off on an old clay road with nothing but pine trees on both sides.

  Rebecca sliding a hand up his leg, under the toga.

  On his knees now, breathing heavily, pumping away, slapping her thighs with his balls.

  Rebecca moaning.

  The trailer coming to a halt.

  The crowd circling the float.

  “Well, we’re here,” said the mayor.

  Randy pulled out of his wife, a blank expression on his face. “Huh?”

  “End of the line,” the mayor said.

  Randy turned and stared at a huge statue at the end of the dirt road. The statue of a man with a bull’s head.

  “This is the town’s god, right here,” the mayor said. “This is who we pay homage to every year.”

  The townspeople climbing up the trailer.

  A sudden feel of claustrophobia.

  Hands grabbing at him.

  Rebecca screaming.

  Dirty hands covering his mouth, smelling of sweat and rot.

  Randy felt hot, blistering pains all over his body. Their mouths were closing down on his flesh. They were devouring him. He wanted to scream. Hands over his mouth, fingers crawling over his line of vision.

  The last thing he saw before a hand covered his eyes was Rebecca’s pussy being eaten, one chunk at a time.

  THE END

  The Wine, the Bitch, and the Broom Closet

  Now I can tell y’all gangstas a thing or two about “hard time.” Swangin a bush axe in 100 degree temperatures in the swamps where the poisonous snakes and the ragged people go. I can tell you all about the inmates that disappeared out in them woods, neva to be found again, swallowed up in that dark abyss of Georgia swampland. But I ain’t gonna waste your time with such nonsensical bullshit. Naw, I’m a tell you about the time I had a work detail at the public library.

  It was the best days of this convict’s life, working in that air conditioned facility, books to read aplenty, pretty womens to look at while yo boy was sweeping them floors, makin them shine like sparkling diamonds in a jewelry store.

  My detail offica, Offica Jones, he was about as lazy as those lazy mothafuckas come. He’d set right down at the table on the second floor and talk on his cell phone to his mistresses while we sweated and toiled on them library floors. We kept them floors damn near spotless and never cut no corners because all them old bitches that worked in the library was always watching us.

  Yeah, that’s right. They’d come up front to the circulation desk and watch me as I worked the broom, their eyes burning holes into the back of my head. They was all a strange bunch. Kind of mean and quiet and angry at the same time. I used to go up to them and say, “How do y’all ladies do this fine morning?” but they’d just stare me down, looking away every other moment to take a sip of they coffees.

  Well, one fine morning, I was mopping the floor and whistling Mr. Ricky Martin’s “She Bang,” when the hottest woman I eva seen glided past. Her legs were long and white as freshly fallen snow and her ass was shaped like a heart. I wanted to unwrap that beautiful package and tear right into that heart shaped ass. Her smooth raven hair flowed down to her lower back, and I pictured myself holding it, yanking it as I thrusted, making her moan with pleasures she’d never before experienced, her enormous tittays thumping against the headboard of the waterbed, my balls going smack, smack, smack against that pleasure zone.

  I looked back down and noticed the floor was muddy where she’d walked by, then had another look at her. I bout doubled over with shock. That fine bitch wasn’t wearing no shoes. Her feet was dirty brown, and her ankles grimy, liked she’d been walking barefoot down a country road on a rainy day to get the mail out the mailbox.

  “Where yo shoes is?” I asked, my hand shooting up to cover my mouth. Inmates weren’t supposed to talk to the public during they work detail, and I damn sure didn’t want to go back to the swamps and swing the bush axe.

  She turned around, her soulful eyes penetrating my mind. I could feel her inside of me, moving around, discovering those tightly locked secrets in my brains. She was enchanting and sensual. A grade ‘A’ piece of ass. She motioned me with a finger to follow and I was helpless as they come, dropping the broom to the floor, watching that heart shaped ass sway as she walked into the back of the building.

  I must have momentarily blacked out because one moment I was watching that booty, then before I knew it I was in the break room.

  I turned around, scanning the break room
, seeing the chairs and tables, the drink machine and refrigerator. No sign of my dirty feet princess. Where the hell was that girl? I scratched my head, puzzled at the situation, and made my way up front.

  Hours passed by, and sweeping turned to mopping. My back hurt, but I couldn’t keep my mind off that fine ass girl. She was drop dead gorgeous, man, a real sexy thang. She could have been on the cover of Hustla, Penthouse, Forum, even the Maxim we loved to look at in prison.

  I finally finished that hell hole lobby and went back to the break room where my enchanting pussy had departed her knight in shiny orange jumpsuit. I went in the women’s bathroom, cleaned the toilets and took out the trash. Then I went in the men’s room, sprayed down the pee pee on the floor and wiped boogers off the stalls with a damp cloth.

  I was just finishing up, when I walked outside the bathroom and noticed a door. It was just a sitting there, in the corner of the break room. I had swept and mopped this place a hundred times, but I had never noticed it before.

  Curiosity got the best of me. I know that damned door hadn’t been here before. Ain’t no way.

  I put my hand on the knob, tested to see if it was locked, and the door creaked open. Inside were brooms, buckets, mops and cleaning materials. How interesting, I thought, wandering deeper into the closet. It was black as night in that mothafucka, and I held out my hand, fully expecting to touch a wall. Instead I touched nothing.

  Damn, how big is this broom closet? I wondered, pushing blindly forward, my hands outstretched.

  It felt as if I walked for miles before I finally saw light. I rounded a corner and came out in this big ass concrete room that had a bunch of big ass machines with bright lights. They was humming like bumble bees guarding they honey.

  A sudden flash of movement caught my eyes, and I saw some honey naked as the day she was born, grinning at me in the corner of the room.

  Her breasts were large and firm, the nipples pointing out like pencil erasers. Her skin was creamy smooth. The thatch of pubic hair between her legs looked like an unexplored jungle. I wanted to pull out a machete and whack my way into an undiscovered world of wonder. What would I find in this new world? What magical creatures resided between her beautiful legs? I was damned determined to find the fuck out. I was going to Christopher Columbus that pussy! Watch out now!