Charles Bukowski

trying to get even:

we’d had any number of joints and some
beer and I was on the bed stretched out
and she said, “look, I’ve had 3 abortions
in a row, real fast, and I’m sick of
abortions, I don’t want you to stick that
thing in me!”
 
it was sticking up there and we were both
looking at it.
“ah, come on,” I said, “my girlfriend fucked
2 different guys this week and I’m trying to
get even.”
 
“don’t get me involved in your domestic
horseshit! now what I want you to do is
to BEAT that thing OFF while I WATCH!
I want to WATCH while you beat that thing
OFF! I want to see it shoot JUICE!”
 
“o.k. get your face closer.”
 
she got it closer and I spit on my palm
and began working.
 
it got bigger. just before I was ready I
stopped, I held it at the bottom
stretching it,
the head throbbed
purple and shiny.
 
“oooh,” she said.
she ducked her mouth over it, sucked at
it and
pulled away.
 
“finish it off,” I said.
“no!”
 
I whacked away and then stopped again
at the last moment and held it at the
bottom and waved it all around the
bedroom.
 
she eyed it
fell upon it again
sucked
and pulled away.
 
we alternated the process
back and forth
 
again and again.
 
finally I just pulled her off
the chair
onto the bed
rolled on top of her
stuck it in
worked it
worked it
and came.
 
when she walked back out of
the bathroom she said,
“you son of a bitch, I love you,
I’ve loved you for a long time.
when I get back to Santa Barbara
I’m going to write you. I’m
living with this guy but I hate
him, I don’t even know what I’m
doing with him.”
 
“o.k.,” I said, “but you’re up
now. can you get me a glass of
water? I’m dry.”
she walked into the kitchen and
I heard her remark that
all my drinking glasses were
dirty.
 
I told her to use a
coffee cup. I
heard the water running and I
thought, one more fuck
I’ll be even
and I can be in love with my girlfriend again—
that is
if she hasn’t slipped in an
extra
and she probably
has.
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