Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Scene of the

by Ari Collins


I'm awoken by the smell in my sheets. Or maybe it's your dildo jamming into my back. Or the furry handcuffs tickling my nose, or my sweat-wet pillow. Each time I'm jostled awake by our forensic sexprint, I reremember. And I smile. And I won't clear and clean the bed until you come back.

8 comments:

Rob said...

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Anonymous said...

I know it's good to write what you know, but dang, Ari, WE didn't need to know!

Anonymous said...

Says Zel. With a note of disgust.

Ari Collins said...

Guys. That dude is totally not this dude. This dude too is grossed out by that dude. Seriously. Good thing only that dude has the capability to think like that.

Wait.

Anonymous said...

Being an imaginative writer who can get into nasty characters' heads SUCKS.

-Zel

Rob said...

Does it?

Sebatinsky said...

No.

Allie said...

The "forensic sexprint" is a brilliant coined phrase.