House of Holes (31 page)

Mindy nodded.

“Okay, then give me a microphone. Do you have a big microphone? Because what I’ve learned is that when I play with my cuntpussy, I need something inside or I feel empty.”

Mindy brought out a long silver microphone. “I don’t think you want to put this piece of equipment inside you,” she said. “It’s a four-hundred-dollar shotgun mike. A Sennheiser.”

“Mindy, that’s just how much microphone I need to give you a good in-depth cuntpussy interview.”

“Okay,” said Mindy.

Dune fished out a condom from his wallet and unrolled it over the end of the microphone. “Now shove it in me and I’ll show you something.”

Mindy eased the condom-covered microphone into Dune’s pussyhole.

“Oooh, that’s it, while I whale on this clit,” said Dune. “You like the way my clit sticks straight up like a tiny little dick? It’s amazing you can get this much feeling out of a little pink bean of a thing, but you can, if you work at it. Now let go of the microphone for a second. I’ll show you my muscles. I’ve been exercising them.” Dune clenched himself and said, “Mmm, mmmm, mmmm.” The microphone end wigwagged obscenely.

“Nice muscles,” said Mindy. “Please go on. What tips did you give Marcela?”

“I said to her, ‘Sometimes I pull on the nutsack a little and shake the whole package to make it aware of the fact that it’s going to be getting hard soon.’ She said, ‘Like this?’ And she shook my cock, or her cock, whoever’s cock it was, and I said, ‘Yeah, like that.’ Then I said, ‘Marcie, while you do that I wonder if you’d mind if I squeezed on your titties.’ And she was okay with that, so I squeezed her tits my special way, up from below, and a really amazing thing happened, which was that her dick, my own dick, started to lean out into space, and I realized I was making her dick hard by squeezing her tits, and ooooh, shit, that was some nice madness.”

Mindy put one leg on the bed, nodding.

“And then she stood up, and she turned herself around,” Dune went on, “and I had a view of her that was like”—he held up his hands. “I looked up at her eyes and her face looking down at me and then these nice heavy, hanging tits and then her big hips and then, look out, there’s my heavy cock on her.”

“She must have wanted you to jerk her off,” said Mindy.

“Yes, she said, ‘Now I want you to help me get my dick off.’ I said, ‘Marcie, it’s just as much my dick as it is yours.’ And now, Mindy, that’s all I’m going to say about this unless you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?” said Mindy.

“Promise me that when I get my penis back you’ll give some serious thought to fucking me, because you attract me sexually.”

Mindy said, “I’ll think about it. But right now how about let’s jill off together side by side, and you keep telling me what happened, because I can’t resist playing with myself, Dune, but I also need to get your story.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Mindy, honey—come on and sit next to me,” said Dune, scooting himself back on her bed.

Mindy adjusted the camera again and pulled off her shirt. “So what did you and Marcela do?”

“I took both her hands and I said, ‘I want to play with your nipples and hold your legs open while you do your cock,’ and I gently put her hands on the cock bundle. She took it, and she began moving her hand up and down, and it was amazing how quickly she got a feel for it. That dick got harder on her than it had been on me in a long time. I said, ‘That’s the business, honey. You get that dick to do what’s right for you.’ She was getting hot, and she said, ‘It feels so good to jack on it, and I’ll tell you what I want to do, I want to fuck you with it.’ ”

Mindy had eased her hand into her sweatpants as she listened. “Really?”

“So I said what the hell,” said Dune. “I flung myself back on the bed like a bride on her wedding day and I said, ‘Go on ahead, Marcie, fuck me like you know how.’ She said, ‘Guide me in you, baby—you know where you want it to go.’ So I circled around my cunny to get the head all juiced and ready and then I said, ‘Shove it on inside, Marcie, I’m ready for a dick pounding.’ ”

Mindy’s eyes were closed and her hand was moving as she imagined the scene. “How did it feel?” she asked.

“Well, it was a good feeling, Mindy, a good full feeling. I was a virgin, and Marcie was considerate. She said, ‘I’m going to go slow, Dune,’ and I put my hands on her wonderful full, smooth ass and felt her long, long, deep push, and she started really fucking me in and out, ung, ung, and I said, ‘Oh, lord help my naked soul, I’ve never been fucked by own cock before.’ She said, ‘You’re getting it now.’ I said, ‘Marcie, fuck me, I’m so confused and I love it, fuck me harder, tear up my virgin pussy!” Dune looked over at Mindy. “Mm, twat yourself, Mindy, bat your bug, that’s the way.”

Mindy’s head was back, and she was biting her tongue. “Don’t stop,” she said.

“Then Marcie lay down on her back and I saw my cock sticking straight up on her, and she pulled on it, and I said, ‘What do you want, baby?’ She said, ‘I want you to sit right down and rock on this big thick piece of rhubarb.’ So I straddled her, and I let myself sink down, and oh, shoot, was that nice. I started bouncing up and down on it, and it nailed me so good. She said, ‘Now tickle your clit, and you will come.’ So I found my clit, which was, as I say, a tiny little thing but quite sensitive, and I started rubbing and nubbing and scrubbing on it, and meanwhile I was bouncing up and down like a horse thief.”

“Mmm,” said Mindy, dipping a finger deep and then circling.

“And I think all the nerve connections were still being sketched in because I had something that I think was a very teeny orgasm, and then another little one, but bigger. And I thought, Shit, that’s it? That’s all? That’s a woman’s pussy orgasm? And then, whoa, my clit screamed out, and this incredible shaky feeling tore like a wrecking ball through my whole body.”

“Was it mainly in your vagina or your clit?”

“I don’t know, clit, vagina—it was all over the county, and I held her tits and looked up at her pretty face and let everything just flow through me, huhhh, huhhh.”

Mindy’s breathing got fast and she said, “I’m going to come, Dune, mercy, I’m going to come!”

Dune shuttled his finger over his clit, spanking it once, and he lifted himself up and he went, “Ahhhh, errrrrr, aaaahhh!” He frigged himself with the microphone and then he started hip-jouncing on the bed, and after he came he laughed and swore.

He said, “This is just plain daffy, Mindy. I need my old dick back. Marcela’s going to want her pussy back soon, I know it. Will you go with me to Lila and dip your hands in the blue bowl and be the go-between?”

“Sure,” said Mindy, “if I can get it on film.”

Rhumpa Visits the Pornmonster

A
keeper named Harry, who wore short pants and had a little goatee, took Rhumpa to see the pornmonster. They went into the first airlock, and after the pressure equalized there they went into a second. It was darker there. The air was close, if not fetid. The hatch made a sucking sound and opened. They stood on the shore of a large underground lake, now the repository of the distilled contents of all the House of Holes’s pornsucker missions.

Harry and Rhumpa went up a set of stairs hewn into the rock and stood on a balcony overlooking the lurid water, which glowed and glopped and slopped around the edges of the cavern.

“It’s not terribly nice in here, is it?” said Rhumpa.

Harry shook his head despairingly. “The more porn we’ve sucked out of the world, the larger the monster has grown,” he said. “This wasn’t in our forecasts. We thought there might be small anomalies of spontaneous generation, of course. But this—this is a personification of polymorphousness unlike anything the world of human suck-fuckery has ever known. I used to work as a trainer at Ocean Playground. The squid show there was nothing compared to this.”

At that moment an enormous arm reached out of the oily liquid, and a huge hand grasped at nothing in the air. Five penises hung dangling off the forearm—it looked like a bizarre bagpipe. The hand was made up of half a dozen clustered vaginas.

“That’s gross,” said Rhumpa.

Harry made a little fatalistic laugh. “They’re pumping so much porn in here that it’s just feeding and feeding, and it grows a new appendage every few days. It’s got about ten arms. One’s really long, but a lot of them are smaller.”

“I can see that it’s not pretty,” Rhumpa said. “But is it good or is it evil?”

“Nobody knows,” said Harry. “Nobody knows its language.”

“I’m going to try to talk to it,” said Rhumpa. She put her hands to her mouth. “Hey, longdog!” she called with loud authority. “Jizm! Weeperhole!”

The pornhand paused for a moment, ceased groping, then subsided under the vermilion waves of mingling smut imagery.

“You really know languages,” said Harry, impressed.

Rhumpa knew she could talk to the pornmonster given enough time and quiet. “I can’t engage with it here,” she said. “Do you have a side chamber where we can go?”

“Sure,” said Harry. “The sluice gate has an overflow tank, and sometimes the monster goes in there to rest.”

Suddenly, several fountains of what looked like sperm, but orchid and navel orange in color, jetted up from the froth.

Rhumpa looked at Harry questioningly. “It masturbates constantly,” Harry said. “You’ll have to put on a wetsuit.”

Rhumpa nodded. They went to the room off the overflow tank. Rhumpa shucked off her shirt and pants and stepped into the suit.

“Be careful,” said Harry. “Our containment system is only as good as its weakest link.”

“Do you think it can feel love?” asked Rhumpa.

“I doubt it,” said Harry. “I was reading Hawking’s book about the first seconds of the universe. I think our monster is as close as I’ll ever come to knowing what that’s like.” Harry hesitated. He looked a little green around the gills. “I’m going to have to leave you on your own here. I’ll be watching on the monitor. Men can’t take pornfumes for very long without fainting. We need breathing equipment. Women seem more immune.” Harry withdrew.

Rhumpa walked out onto the tiled edge of the ancillary holding tank. She called out, “Hey, pornmonster! Cuntcall! Here it is!” She cupped her crotch through the wetsuit.

There was a burbling and a different feeling in the air. Rhumpa sensed that the pornmonster had slid into the ancillary tank. She waited.

“If you’re here,” she called, nervously, “let me see your biggest hand.”

There was a powerful odor of sexual fluids, and a huge mottled hand appeared. Rhumpa was shocked by how large it was, how freshly formed and strong. It reached and found the bars that separated her from the pornslurry.

“If you understand my cuntlips talking to you, and if you understand how I like to frig myself silly every morning before I go to work, please hold up your middle finger.”

The pornmonster flung up his middle finger, and a splash of iridescence surged over Rhumpa in a wave.

She called on the walkie-talkie back to Harry at the control console. “Harry, unlock the electric gate. I need to go mano a mano.”

“Can’t do it, for insurance reasons.”

“Pish-posh,” said Rhumpa. “He needs a friend. He’s been in these tanks too long.”

Harry made a doubtful sound. “Okay,” he said. The gate clicked open, and Rhumpa stepped out, unprotected—a set of jiggy curves in a wetsuit. She knelt and put her rubber-gloved hand in the liquid. She could feel the energy of warm spiffle juice going up her arm. Under the liquid she flipped out her middle finger. “I’m here to talk about hot, hard holefucking,” she said. “Come on over, you big sexy vulgarian, climb out where I can see you naked.”