brian a. ellis
It felt so good inside Red that Sal came in less than a minute. Red had an amazing body, Sal thought—the kind, he assumed, certain serial killers would cut up into tiny pieces and feed to their pets. But still, he did not want a child with this woman, so he pulled out and sprayed his release into the peach-colored bed sheets. Then he pushed Red aside and turned facing the wall. But Red wasn’t through—she cuddled Sal, whispered into his ear, pecked his shoulder with her teeth, tried reviving his spent cock with her right hand. And knowing that Red’s attempts at reviving his spent cock were in vain, Sal felt bad for her. So with his body still turned towards the wall, he began fingering Red. The angle was exhausting and tricky, however, and before long Sal had given up and fallen asleep. Angry and restless, Red didn’t know what to do. And Sal didn’t care. He couldn’t.
Brian A. Ellis
All My Friends Are Going to Be Strangers