The night was not rainy, nor cold, nor particularly warm. It asn’t
cloudy or breathtakingly starry. It was a night. Any Cynic would tell
you. The light dimly glowed inside the office of Regienhold “Reggie” M.
Davis, a blue bic pen scribbling notes, one hand typing mechanical commands
into the office system. “take out the trash, wash the car, do laundry,
repaint bathroom” on and on went the note.
Reggie sat in his car, a beaten down Buic, the gas tank threatened to
fall off, or explode. Or both. The steering column was broken and moved
if one pushed too hard. The seats were ripped, duct tape covered the
tears. The paint was entirely gone, as was the vinyl top. He realized,
watching the strands of hookers blurr by outside thw windows of his car,
that he was slowly and surely decaying.
It happened again, that night, same as it always did. The moment he
closed his eyes, she was there. Skipping over minty green hills in her
pink baby-doll dress, her pert schoolgirl ass peaking out under
20-something layers of petticoats. She lapped, happily at a cartoonishly
oversized lollypop , until things started to go wrong. All the happy 30’s
style cartoon flowers began spitting at her, and trying to rip off her
clothes, and her lollipop, half eaten, got very angry. She dropped it to
the ground as she ran and Reggie’s sleeping body writhed in some festering
sexual fantasy. The lollipop, as always, seemed to grow and change, and
became something between a peice of candy and a mutant freak of nature,
it’s throbbing erection bouncing in front of it as it persued the fleeing
girl. The flowers would grab at her ancles, tripping her, until
eventually, she fell. Reggie groaned, rolling onto his stomach, humping at
the stained matress. Her dress was never torn, nor pulled away, but
inevitably flung up, exposing her bare , supple behind that Reggie so
remembered from his early years. “What a pretty peach” the lollipop would
say. And Begin banging it’s erection at her ass haphazzardly, more intent
on bruising and humilliating her than gaining penetration. It dragged her
legs up beside it, and began masturbating itself with her bare feet.
Reggie bolted awake, sweating, and grunting.
Reggie stared out the 10th floor window, not even a decent view. Just a
few feet to the next office building, he inevitably stared at Veronica as
she worked. He didn’t know if that was her real name, but it didn’t
matter. She wore heels like a Veronica would wear. He wondered what kind
of woman it took to be on six inch heels eight hours a day running papers
in an office. Her ass kept calling him away from his work. He was ever so
glad his desk faced away from the door. As he began his daily ritual, he
noticed something new, Veronical tipped back in her desk chair and kicked
off her heels,She began rubbing her feet, in a half-lotus position, and
seemed to be enjoying it. As her free hand slid down to her crotch, Reggie
lost control, and gave the underside of his desk a fresh coat of paint.
