House of Holes (33 page)

Shandee applauded briefly and turned back toward her hotel. Sad about Ruzty, she thought. Maybe if she’d been stroking him he would have won. She got in bed and turned on a house-fix-up show and watched a man repair a screen door. She got Dave’s arm out and fed him and changed his liquid wastes, and they lay together and looked at the ceiling fan. Dave’s arm tweaked her nipple solicitously. She reached a moment of decision. “Come on, honey, let’s go,” she said.

Dave Gets His Old Cock Back

S
handee went to Dave’s room, number 434, and knocked. There was no answer. “Probably out carousing,” she said to Dave’s arm. “Would you feel comfortable writing him a note?” Dave’s hand took her pen and wrote this:

Hey Dave, I’m not feeling too good. Shandee has been taking care of me and showing me some of her kind and loving ways, but I miss being attached to you and doing all the fun things we could do together. I want back on. Shandee will be in her room, 676, tonight after seven. Do not miss this opportunity. Signed, Your Arm.

Shandee folded the note and held Dave’s arm as he slipped it under the door. They went back and took a nap together. At 7:15 there was a knock on the door.

Shandee straightened her skirt and checked her lipstick before she answered.

“Hi, I’m Dave,” said Dave.

“Oh, hi, Dave,” said Shandee, as nonchalantly as she could. “I’ve got your arm for you. I found it in a quarry.” She kissed Dave’s arm softly on the knuckles and handed him over, and as she did she took a slow second to look Dave up and down. He was wearing a soft nubbly greeny-gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he needed a haircut. She saw his stump, which ended smoothly and tastefully just below his elbow, and she felt tender stirrings in her nethers.

Dave greeted his arm. “Hey there, dude,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you in the lurch.” He looked up at Shandee. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“I’m going to miss him a lot,” said Shandee. “He’s been nice to me—very caring, very responsible. Very sensual in the bedroom, may I add. A little jealous, which isn’t a bad thing.”

“No, I guess not,” said Dave.

Shandee waved at the couch. “You want to sit down? I feel I know a lot about you. You look the way I thought you’d look, except you’re taller.”

“Well, you are quite stunningly, incredibly—damn!” Dave blushed at his enthusiasm.

“I would have gotten in touch before now,” said Shandee, “but Lila said you were not ready to be reunited because then you’d have to say good-bye to your huge dick. I thought I’d see you onstage today at the festival.”

Dave shrugged. “I kind of decided that being jacked off in front of hundreds of people wasn’t my style.”

“I understand,” said Shandee.

They were quiet for a moment.

“I hope you’ve had some fun times here,” said Dave.

“Oh, definitely. You?”

“I snuck off the reservation, did some crazy stuff. Spent more time in the old Porndecahedron than I care to admit.” He breathed. “And now here we are.”

“Here we are.” Shandee smiled at him, loving his rueful in-telligent eyes. Her vagina—or maybe it was her heart?—felt as if it weighed about eight pounds.

Dave’s arm snapped its fingers impatiently.

“So,” said Dave, “how do we do this?”

“Lila told me how,” said Shandee. “I’ve been sleeping every night with the cloth of Ka-Chiang tucked in my pussyhole, so my juices have special healing powers.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Now all you have to do is, ah”—she lay back on her bed and pulled up her little denim skirt—“press your stump right here on my cunny.” She pulled her panties to one side and pointed.

“I can do that,” said Dave. “But could we maybe kiss a little bit first?”

Shandee nodded, and Dave knelt by the bed. She felt the full-on murflement of his enveloping kiss. Their tongues made friends; they’d known each other forever, it seemed. Shandee let her hand fall as if casually till it found the cocky thickness under his pants. She smoothed it over, feeling it swell, and he made a happy sound. Then he pushed his sleeve up higher and aimed his stump so it touched her gently between her legs—too gently.

“You can go ahead and grind it in,” she said.

He ground it in. “Like that?”

“No, harder. You have to get it all wet. In other words, fuck me with your stump.”

He pushed harder. “How about that?”

“Oh, god, aaah, whoa, fuck, that’s far enough. Now tighten your biceps muscle so I can feel it jerk. Aaah! Good.” She sat up and straightened her hair. “That should do it, yes, you’re all moistened up now.”

“Feels strange, a little like burning,” said Dave.

“Now, quickly,” said Shandee. Dave held out his glistening stump, and Shandee peeled off the cap on Dave’s arm. She pushed the two ends together, and they joined, making a juicy sloomping sound. Dave was whole again.

He fell on the bed, clutching his elbow. “Eee, eee, eee!” he said. “Pins and needles, and thorns and burrs and shrapnel—ow! I can feel the bone knitting back together.” Then, after the pain passed, he smiled, flexing his hand. “My arm is sending me up some vivid memories of touching your face,” he said. “May I touch your face?”

“Mmm,” said Shandee. She moved toward him and opened her mouth to be kissed again. But just at that moment there was a knock on the door. Zilka strode in, followed by Jason the bowl man, who held an enormous wooden bowl of his own fashioning, and Glenn the Australian wilderness photographer, and Betsy the beachgoer, and Lanasha the masseuse, and Daggett. Lanasha had a spray tank strapped to her back, and Daggett was carrying his bag of bras.

“We’re the field unit for crotchal transfers,” said Daggett.

“That was awfully fast, guys,” said Dave. “You must have been waiting in the hall.” He waved. “Hi, Glenn. I’ve enjoyed your dick very much.”

Glenn, dressed in a blue button-down shirt and stone-colored chinos, looked pleased. “I’ve enjoyed yours,” he said.

Daggett, his days as a Deprivo over, took charge. “Now everyone take off your clothes—let’s just right off get crazy batshit naked, okay? If you women want a special bra, feel free. And I hope you will admire my new balls.” They all admired Daggett’s balls as they shucked off their clothing, and then Lanasha sprayed Glenn’s genitals with the special plasmic transfer liquid from the tank on her back.

Daggett had more commands. “Shandee, if you would sit down in the bowl and make yourself comfortable, we can wash your pussy with the magic blue fluids. Jason, you could help by holding Shandee’s legs apart. Spread her wide so Lanasha can spray all of her. Good. And Betsy, could you please suck on Glenn’s cock till he’s good and stiff?”

“I’ll have to call my husband,” said Betsy, dialing. “Hi, honey, I’m here with some important people, and they need me to prepare a cock for transfer. Is that okay with you? Probably have to suck on it a little. Well, it’s sort of big, not quite as big as yours is. Great. Thanks, honey, I’ll call you later, bye.”

Betsy went to work. When Glenn’s cock was good and stiff, he lay on the floor on his back. Dave, still in his pants, sat spread-eagled on a chair directly over Glenn’s head. Shandee, her pussy ring-dinging like mad, got astride Glenn, and Betsy held Glenn’s cock at the right angle.

“That pussy spray makes me sick horny,” said Shandee. “When do I sit down on Glenn?”

“Right now, Shandee, fuck his pole. Betsy will help you guide it in. Soon you’ll feel the plasmic cockmeat puree begin to move right through your body.”

Shandee spiraled slowly down on Glenn’s cock. “Ohhh, that feels so nice,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Glenn.

“And it’s actually my cock down there, so thank you from me, as well,” said Dave.

“Now Lanasha,” said Daggett, “haul out Dave’s current cock and give it a spray of the blue fluid and a good sprinkle of Bohu’s beardwater, too.”

Everyone politely suppressed a gasp at the massive rude cockitude of Dave’s equipment as Lanasha unfolded it and shook it free from the confines of Dave’s pants.

Shandee was mesmerized. She and Lanasha together worked their fists up and down on its length, and as their hands rose and fell, pulling the cockskin, Dave’s mobile balls hopped up and down in their hairy handbag.

“Oh, my god, I’ve got so much dick going on here!” said Shandee.

“Keep fucking Glenn and meanwhile always suck and jack on Dave,” said Daggett. “Keep the flow going.”

Everyone went quiet, watching Shandee do her strenuous double service. She pulled up on and then slumped down on Glenn’s rigid stonker, and she gave simultaneous attention to Dave’s jaw-dropping mouthful of dickstick.

“Both genitals are going plasmic—they’re about to flow,” Daggett announced, wrapping a bra strap tightly around his balls. “Are you ready for the transfer? It’ll happen fast.”

Shandee nodded yes as her ass rose and fell, and then she involuntarily grunted as a huge molten mass of shifting sexmeat crissed and crossed through her body. She grabbed Dave’s hips to steady herself and felt the enormity of the testosterodick travel from her mouth down through her middlemost uterine self and into Glenn’s rapidly growing loinstem.

Dave’s cock was still hard, but it was shrinking in girth and length. Shandee popped her head off of it for an instant, working it with her hands instead. “More and more of the dick is going down through me, oh, my god!” she said. She chewed one side of her cheek. “It’s growing huge in my vagina! Oh, there’s so much hot, bad ball-hopping dick in me now! Oh, this feels so good, oh, Dave, this dick! This dick! This dick! How can you possibly give up this massive dick, it feels so fucking full in my cunt canal, aaaaaaaaaaaaah, shit, shit, oh, shit, Glenn, unbelievable!”

She caught her breath for a moment and looked around the room. Daggett, balls a-waggle, was slamming himself into Lanasha, and Jason was doing Zilka. Betsy had her legs hooched and the beardwater sprayer-wand up her ass and was jiggling it lasciviously.

Suddenly, Glenn’s orgasm slammed into gear, and he threw the first hot clot of a busted nutload of jizzling twizzlering sperm up inside her. Shandee let out a ragged joyous screamy cry of pure consummated cockfuckedfulness. Then she said to Dave, “Dave, I’m ready to tug you off onto my lips. Come on these lips, these Terranova lips that will always be true to you.” She saw his eyes meet hers and felt both his hands—the one she knew and the one she didn’t—hold her head. She said, “I’m going to jack off your beautiful real Dave cock onto my face now—oh, my god, it’s never been this good.” And suddenly Dave bucked in her hands, and she felt a Tuileries Garden of manly Dave-jizm leap onto her forehead and then again on her cheek and her neck. She was dripping with one perfect man’s cockjuice, and she loved it so much that when Glenn touched her clit with his thumb she wonked down full force on his restored dickitude, and that was enough to start the Atlas-shrug shudderation of arrival that made her shiver her way through the seven, eight, nine, twelve seconds of worldwide interplanetary flux of orgasmic strobing happy unmatched tired coughing ebbing thrilled spent ecstasy.