Videotape

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“I’m almost finished,” she cries.

Her words reach me this time, yet it’s not until she repeats herself that they sink in.

“Oi! I hope you haven’t fallen asleep. You’re supposed to be writing.”

To this, the dog barks excitedly. She promptly laughs, and I can hear the two of them getting out of the tub. In a few minutes, she’ll be back in the room. I think about sitting back at the desk pretending to be in full flow of writing but don’t have the energy to see it through. I can’t even muster the enthusiasm to grab my beer. I can see it sat on the desk in the glare of the sun. The bottle’s getting warm. Warm beer doesn’t roll my eyes none, and yet the sight of it still makes me sad.

“I’ve thought of a name for the dog,” she says, “I’ll think you’ll like it.” To this, the dog barks again, and I can hear the sound of his tail hitting the shower curtain. I open my mouth to reply but don’t have the energy for that, either.

“If you’ve fallen asleep, I’m going to hit you,” she calls out.

Turning my head, I gaze at the door and picture the two of them behind it. I then turn the other way to the window. Staring at the empty blue sky that lies beyond, I think about popping on a movie. I don’t usually watch movies, but such is my lack of inspiration, I’m hoping the sight of some gore will spark me into life. Our movie collection is comprised almost entirely of horror flicks. Most of them picked up in charity stores or the market stall in the indoor shopping centre that lets you buy five for the price of four. Meeko’s not into movies, but she likes the way the scary ones get my blood pumping. More often than not, we put one on before we fuck. It works most of the time. However, there are times when I get too involved in what’s happening on screen. She’ll be pawing and rubbing her breasts against me, but I’ll be lost in a world of sharp knives and the menacing hand of fate stalking some group of promiscuous teens. Saying that the last film we watched together got me hard almost immediately, and without wasting any time, I had her without bothering with foreplay. She complained that it was rushed, but the feel of my seed swimming in her belly sent her to sleep with a smile on her face. The film in question was the original Amityville Horror. The flashbacks scenes at the beginning are what done it for me. Those graphic gunshot wounds. The deafening blasts and quick cuts to the present day. The as-yet unmentioned evil of a desecrated ancient Indian burial ground ready to inflict upon an unsuspecting young family and their dog.

I pretty much came the second I slipped inside of her.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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