by John Skipp
Important stuff! And hilarious, too.
THANK YOU, CHRIS! Your gift is from the angels, baby.
Don't ever fuckin' forget it.
ALL THIS AND HEAVEN, TOO
Omigod, omigod, omigod, JANEY? Are you awake? Are you busy? Do you have a minute? Yeah, I know it’s late. I’m really sorry. But this is too wild. I’ve just gotta tell ya.
So... are the kids in bed? Are you alone? Are you sitting down? Do you have a drink and a vibrator handy? Good. Yeah, it’s that kind of story. Ready?
You will not believe what just happened to me.
Well... okay. You know I’m out in Vegas, right? Exactly. The adult video trade show. It’s like a Star Trek convention with boners: lots of bald sweaty men who’ve memorized every frame of every movie I was ever in, and they all wanna talk about it in great gushing detail while I sign their 8x10’s. No, no, they’re VERY sweet, and very respectful... well, at least they all TRY to keep from staring at my tits.
But you remember when I had that column in High Society? Right. I showed you some of those letters, especially the ones I got from prison. They all started out very respectfully: “Dear Ms. Brandy Anne Lace, you are the most beautiful and intelligent woman in adult films, and it is my dream that one day when I’m paroled, you and I could have a nice dinner together, just to talk.” Right? And so the first three pages or so are about that – the sparkle of my eyes by candlelight, my warm understanding smile, the delicate curve of my breasts.
But if you flip ahead to page 12, the writing’s all in humongous caps, and it’s like, “AND THEN I’M FUCKING YOU IN THE ASSHOLE, AND YOU ARE SCREAMING ‘OH GOD, MASTER ME, PIGPEN! YES! YES! OH, YOU’RE THE BIGGEST AND THE BEST!!!’”
Ai-yi-yi. Exactly! Well, everybody needs a dream, ya know? But after about ten hours of this in a live-action setting – I mean, the guys in prison probably have better sex lives than most of these boys – all I really wanted was to be alone. So I checked back into my room at the Hacienda, which is the best those cheap bastards at VCI would spring for.
But lemme tell you: I will never complain about those accommodations again...
Okay! Okay! I am getting to the good part! Just gimme a minute!
Jeez!
So anyway, I’m fucking exhausted, so I throw off my clothes and jump in the shower; and it’s right about this time that I get the unmistakable feeling that I am being watched, okay? Yeah. You know when it’s happening. You can feel it on your skin.
So I start looking around for secret cameras, but the air is now so thick with steam that I can barely see. So I figure, whatever. I’m taking a shower . Let ’em go blind trying to jack off to this... yeah, right! Just like the Good Lord intended! Hee hee!
But after the shower, the feeling persists, and I start to get annoyed. So I slap on a towel, right?; and I start searching around. But there’s nothing. No hidden panels, no holes in the walls, and no windows. Just this feeling that won’t go away.
So now I figure that I’m just being paranoid, chalk it up to the residual psychic buzz of being ogled for hours on end. I go back to the bed and slap on the TV, just to try and distract myself.
And what do you think was on pay-per-view? You’re never gonna believe it: HOT BITCHES ON ICE! Exactly! The one where I fucked the ice sculpture! You know I’ve been dying to see that scene ever since I shot it, but I never got the chance.
So now I’m totally jazzed, so I decide to make it an event. I pop open a bottle of wine and get the candles out of my bag, light some incense, load a bowl, turn down the lights, stack the sex toys on the bed, and settle in for some fun.
The first scene I catch is a three-way between Joey, Ron and this dizzy new bitch they call Lily White; and I’m like, oh god, this is too funny. No, not just because it’s Ron. Because the whole time I’m watching them, I can’t stop thinking about this scene I heard about that recently went down, where Lily got tag-teamed by Debbie and Jeanie, and they just went fucking nuts. They had this chick so fired-up that she didn’t know what was going down; and just as she was about to get off, Debbie took a piss right into her cunt, and Jeanie LAPPED IT UP!
NO, I’m not kidding! I’m totally serious! See, that’s the thing about a lot of these new girls. They always have to prove how bad they are. Me, I’m still a sucker for a little romance, but... Exactly. Like swigging piss is the new frontier. You go, girls. That’s all I’ve got to say.
So anyway, in the midst of my hilarity, there’s also this great sense of relief, because I know that my scene is coming up soon. And the anticipation is getting me more than a little horny, which is cool. So I pile up the pillows and settle back... sure, I can hold. Hurry back, okay?
Dum-dee-dum...
Okay. So that’s your new boy on the side? I wanna hear all about it. But let me finish this first.
Yes, it’s gonna get good! I mean, if I tell you that this was the weirdest sex I’ve ever had in my life, will you chill out a fucking second? Thank you very much.
So Lily finally fakes her orgasm, while the boys grunt and groan, and I am mercifully spared the cum shot via the miracle of soft-core editing... yeah. It pisses me off that they can’t show cock, but the whole thing is so retarded anyway that I can’t say I miss... right. The obligatory cream facial.
Anyway, the next thing I know, there I am on the screen, and I know that this is it. So I make sure the batteries are still in working order, put a dent in the wine, put some fire in the bowl, and bring a couple fingers down to warm my pussy up for action.
Mmmmmmmmm. Just like that, exactly. Yeah.
When I close my eyes, I can see you doing it.
Now picture this, sweetie: on the screen, I walk into this room, and there’s this glorious ice sculpture perched on this pedestal. The guy who did it is this amazing artist – he does these huge catered gigs at, like, the Beverly Hilton; we’re talking incredible detail – and he had totally outdone himself with this thing, which is like a classic Greek statue: no heads, arms, or legs. Just this incredibly-cut torso – sorry, no pun intended – and this magnificent ten-inch glistening cock.
Well, I move in on this sculpture, embrace it from behind; and because it’s already starting to melt a little, it slicks my blouse to my boobs, and I can see my nipples get hard through the translucent nippled chest of this amazing ice-stud. I remember how turned-on I was by this scene, and I can see it in my eyes as I start to grind against it: and in the real world, all this is making me totally fucking hot.
So I’m starting to get into some serious clit-action, and I think about grabbing Gigantor – you know, the Hitachi – but I decide to hold off for a while. It was one of those moments where I remember what guys must go through all the time, watching this shit... you know. Trying to hang in there for the cum shot, time everything just right?
Exactly. Like you’re doing right now. So I slow down a little, while, on the TV, I’m ice-water licking my way around front. And just as I drop to my knees on the screen, I hear this INCREDIBLE MOAN; and it is, like, coming from inches above my head.
Well, YEAH, it freaked me out! The sound was so close that I could feel the breath behind it; and that breath was so fucking cold that it cut through the serious air conditioning I already had blasting in the room. It jerked me out of my head so fast I almost forgot what my right hand was doing.
Then I looked up.
And you will not believe what I saw.
No, it wasn’t Caspar. But you’re awfully goddam close. And I know that you’re not gonna believe me when I say this, but work with me, okay? Cuz it’s the honest fucking truth.
There was this cock, and it was glowing blue, like a special effect in a cheesy monster movie... no. It was just hovering in midair. Very erect. Definitely circumcised. Big veins hangin’ out... no, not severed. Just your basic cock veins. No bloody stump. And no balls.
Just cock. And lots of it.
Attached to nothing at all.
Well, I stared at this thing for a couple of seconds.
I blinked, just to see if it wouldn’t go away. It didn’t. Then I looked at the screen, to see if maybe the ice-dick had burned itself onto my retinas somehow. But no. The two dicks were immensely dissimilar.
How? Well, for one thing, the ghost dick was way shorter – maybe seven inches, max – and just a little bit thicker. But both of them were, after all, glowing blue; and that was the only real basis for comparison I needed.
Then the ghost dick moaned again.
And this time, I saw its little mouth open. Just like any other cock. Except that this one had lips. And when it opened its mouth, I saw little tiny teeth against the teensiest little red tongue...
No, I am not making this up.
So what do you think I did? I started LAUGHING MY ASS OFF, of course! Which was totally the wrong thing to do, but I just couldn’t help it. I mean, I’m sitting there thinking, man, this is incredibly good pot!
And the next thing I know, the poor little baby is starting to wilt.
So suddenly I’m going “OH, NO!”; and without even thinking, I reach up and grab it... you know, the way you’d grab any hardon that starts to go away when you’re not done playing with it yet... and suddenly, there’s this weird kind of electrical surge running through me. I swear to god, it shuddered all the way down to my soul.
That’s when I knew, without a doubt, that this was actually happening to me.
Next thing I know, I’m on my knees in front of this thing: just kind of stroking it reassuringly and going, “Shhhh, it’s okay,” like I’m talking to some kind of frightened animal – yeah, exactly; like I’m talking to a man – and this little mouth is just taking these deep, shuddering breaths...
Well, this was the amazing thing. Right at that moment, on the TV screen, I start to go down on that glorious dripping hunk of ice. And Wesley’s got it lit so well that it looks like it’s glowing from within.
So the second I saw my lips sliding over the head, it’s like, all hesitation is gone.
It wasn’t just a matter of weird synchronicity, or life mirroring art, although I was tripping on all of that. It was more a sense that this was so perfect – so undeniably not just right up my alley but unmistakably meant to be – that all I could do was go, “THANK YEW, JEESUS!”
So I leaned forward, opening my mouth, and went to lick the head of this dick, when this little tongue comes out to meet me. So there I am, french-kissing this penis that is floating in midair. And, yeah, I gotta say that I’ve never kissed a cock that could kiss me back before. It was SO MUCH FUN, I could not fuckin’stand it!
The next thing I know, he’s at the back of my throat, and I am goin’to town on this boy: slurpin’and slidin’and tickling and nibbling and biting and slippin’and slidin’some more, letting my tongue trace the length of him down to that mouth and then back up the shaft to the root. And just when it occurs to me that he has no root, I feel balls on my chin, and there’s an ass within my grasp.
I open my eyes, and see shimmering thighs... yeah, and I’m a poet but I just don’t know it... and the first twinkle of ghostly belly button, like a half-moon on its back in an otherwise empty sky. There’s no ribcage and no knees, but the middle is coming together just fine, and this ethereal penis is making wild animal noises straight down my esophagus.
Now you know how much I love to suck cock; and you know that I’ve never seen another cock like this one. But at this point, all I can think about is, I want this thing to fuck me bad. So I roll it around in my mouth for a minute, just to let it know I really care. Then I pull it out. Look it straight in the eye.
And it screams at me: “DON’T STOP!”
I lick it once. Twice. It goes “ Ahhhh...” and shudders
“You’re a ghost,” I say.
“Don’t stop,” it begs.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You couldn’t stop me if you tried. I’d say I’ll fuck you to death, but it’s already too late. You are a ghost, right?”
The cock nods its head, and I say, “Maybe I’ll fuck you back to life...”
Mmmmmmmm. Thank you, sweetie. I love it when you talk dirty, too...
So anyway, I roll over onto my back, grab the ghost by the ass cheeks, and start to slide him cock-first down the length of my body. On top of everything else, he is totally weightless: though, as I mentioned before, the cock has a nice girth. So it is enjoying the hell out of its trip: licking my neck, nibbling my nipples, moaning with pleasure and dreaming of hands. I take my time around the thighs, teasing myself as much as him.
Then I slide him along my crease, without letting him in. He’s, like, desperately chewing on my outer lips. When he gets to my clit, he’s beside himself; and pretty soon, so am I. I do this until I can’t stand it any longer.
Then I start working him inside me. Hard.
And the feeling is so astonishing – this pulsing energy, synced to the pounding thrusts – that I start losing it almost at once, going over from here to orgasmic there, parting the veil cuz I’m coming so hard that it really is more than a little like dying. And I hear myself crying out. And I hear myself crying out on the TV. And I look back in wide-eyed desperation at me fucking on the screen, humping on the ice-dick while meanwhile I’m slamming, slamming, slamming this fucker into me...
...and I feel knees spreading my legs wide, and I look up to see the glowing torso above me, a blue neon paunch below a featureless head...
...and suddenly, I feel the hands flipping me over, flipping me over onto my hands and knees, the thrusts coming harder now, coming from him while my back arches, ass rises, grinding back to meet him...
...when suddenly he slides all the way out of me; and the next thing I know, he is up my ass, and the transition is so smooth and powerful that I SCREAM, practically jamming my whole fist up my cunt, instantly and massively coming again as he hammers and grinds and electrically blinds me with churning pure cosmic fuck energy.
And I hear this howling, from deep in my bowels. It’s the sound of his cock, howling up my diaphragm. And the sound fills me as I come again, like wave after wave, come again and again, until it feels as though I am the sound: his and my sound, filling the air...
...until I realize that the air is filled with his sound, a second mouth howling above my head. I twist around, craning my neck to see my strange lover, this dead man who is doing this insane shit to me...
...and you know what he looks like, this god among men? He looks like George on fucking Seinfeld! Like Jason Alexander, only blue. Like if there were middle-aged Smurf accountants, he would be one.
Do you get what I’m saying?
I’m saying that he was the spitting image of the hundred thousand guys I’d been signing autographs for all day! In fact, I’m absolutely certain he was one of those guys, by the fact that his gaze kept going back and forth between me and the TV screen. He had no hair. He had a paunchy little body, pudgy sissy-boy arms, and little beady dark eyes.
He was also giving me the fuck of my life.
It was then that I noticed the blowhole.
At first I thought it was just a shadow, at the top of his head. But then I saw it yawning open, like a third wild screaming mouth. His glow was nearly blinding now; and as he shifted to pelvic overdrive, the air began to crackle. I started to really REALLY come.
And that’s when he came, too.
The first thing that happened was, his heart blew up. Blew straight out of his body. Blew up the TV. The explosion synced up great with the sound of the blowhole.
The blowhole was erupting all over the place.
I mean, this guy came like a whipped cream cannon, firing gallon streams of ecto-jizz right straight out the top of his head. It hit the ceiling and pooled there, spreading in flat-out defiance of gravity. I watched the air turn blue, as well, and felt myself starting to leave my body.
Then I heard the voices of angels.
And the real orgasm began.
Swear to God, I felt this warm, astonishing light flood over me, into me, deeper t
han I even knew I went. It was like a vibrator that really loves you, applied to every single cell in your body. I felt like I was floating in perfect bliss, like I was losing myself and not minding a bit.
I saw the angels, then. Pure light. They had my spookster Romeo, and they were airlifting him to glory. He had the sweetest smile on his face; and he said, “Thanks,” and gave a little wave just before he vanished.
Then an angel was there, beside me. I told him I wanted to go, too.
He smiled and shook his head and said, “No. Go back. “And keep on fucking like that, okay?”
Which was a really great thing to hear, especially from an angel. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he put his hand on mine.
“So there’s really an afterlife,” I said. Which was kind of dumb, under the circumstances. So he said yes, and – gossip whore that I am – I asked him for just a little taste of the juiciest afterlife dish. You know, just a little something to share with my friends, give them hope for a brighter tomorrow.
“Welllll...” the angel said, with no slight hesitation. “I guess the biggest buzz right now is: every year, the ghost of Elvis has to go down on Michael Jackson, as part of an evil wedding anniversary ritual.”
“Oh, you’re kidding!” I said.
“No, I’m SERIOUS!” said the angel. “And the weird thing is, Michael Jackson’s been without a dick for over seven years.”
“No!”
“Yes! And you know what he’s got? A surgically- reconstructed perfect replica of DIANA ROSS’S PUSSY!!!”
YES!!! Isn’t that just the cat’s pajamas?
I was so happy, I almost cried.
So anyway, that was all I needed to know. There is a God, and It really does care! I said I could go back to Earth again. The angel gave me a great big hug, and didn’t even cop a feel. Then he said, “Remember what I told you.”
And the next thing I knew, I was back in the room.
