Contributor: Joshua Dobson
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If, like myself, you happen to be a conno-sewer of freaky-lookin' perverts, then free STD testing day at the Department of Pub ic Health is not to be missed. Marvel at the popper burns pinkening the nostrils of a raincoat pervert with a wet tubercular cough. Gaze in lust at all the whore-flesh on display. Recoil in horror from the needle tracks, coat-hanger scars, and property of ______ tattoos. See the largest herpes sore in the state and watch it suppurate before your very eyes.
Although the gawking to be found in the lobby is worth the price of admission alone, that's not the only reason I come here every other Wednesday. I come to get tested.
I don't give a fuck whether I have a venereal disease or not, I just like getting jabbed with needles by moderately attractive nurses. My favorite part is when they shove the cotton swab up my urethra. And it’s a great place to cruise hot diseased sluts (the kind who like it raw.)
Today, I’m not here for fun. Today is business.
The itch in my crotch is hellish. I’m clawing at my junk like a cat at a scratching post when the little old lady inside the glass booth calls my number.
My favorite nurse is working today. She kinda reminds me of my first love, the lice check lady who used to check my head for parasites once a month (once a day during especially fierce outbreaks) back in elementary school. Same cat-eye glasses with neck chain, same big beaky nose, same porn-star-blonde hair dye, same crystal blue eyes, the only difference between them, that I can see, is that the nurse's big bouncing boobs, though huge, are a wee bit smaller than the lice check lady's (or at least my memory of them.)
The big-titted nurse pushes her cat-eye glasses up her falcon-like nose as she peers at my genitalia. She's noticeably excited by what she sees; she licks her bee-stung, crimson-stained lips while she contemplates my crotch.
"It's your lucky day," she says before breaking into a shit eating grin. Then she rises, stalks across the room, lifts the receiver of the phone on the wall from its cradle, tickles the keypad, and says a few whispered words I can't make out into the microphone.
Seconds after the big-nosed, big-breasted nurse hangs up the phone, the door of the tiny examination room swings open and a gorgeous, heavily freckled redhead wearing a khaki park ranger's uniform strides into the room.
The two of them admire my pubic jungle.
"They're really big," the nurse who favors my first love says before once again running her tongue across her fat red lips.
"Perhaps the largest I've ever seen," the lady ranger says with just the faintest hint of a British accent.
The nurse and the lady ranger take pictures of my teeming pubic forest. They fill out forms, registering the discovery in my pubes with the government.
The redhead in the ranger outfit reads from a little laminated card she extracts from a pocket of her safari jacket.
"I am required by law to inform you that
Pthirus pubis AKA pubic lice, AKA crabs, AKA crotch critters, AKA pubic prawns have been declared an endangered species by the federal government of the United States of America. As such it is a class five felony, punishable by up to twenty-five years imprisonment and a five-thousand dollar fine, to kill or harm them in any way."
Pediculosis pubis, Latin for jackpot. The hairs around my genitalia are now a federally protected environment. (Although even before my pubes were nationalized very little drilling was occurring in the region.)
The two-hundred bucks I'd tithed to my friendly neighborhood lice-slut to infuckt me was money well spent.
I just hope the government crab farming check I'm gonna collect every month is worth the maddening itch.
***
An ugly/hot goth chick stands outside the Department of Pub ic Health, weeping, black mascara tears streaming down her long horsey face, snot trickling from her nose.
A crying woman gives me an instant boner.
The impression of horsiness invoked by her long face is augmented by a mouth a bit too wide filled with teeth a smidge too prominent. Her pouty lips are shaped like a heart and painted the same shade of black as her long shiny hair. She's pale as denuded bone. Her flawless skin would fill the head of an upholsterer with perverse notions. Her gorgeous slate grey eyes are red and bloodshot around the edges. She has thick dark eyebrows, a tiny little, dark brown seventies-porn-star-moustache over each of her red rimmed eyes.
I like thick eyebrows. Both for aesthetic reasons and because eyebrows are a good gauge of a woman’s sex drive, as both body hair and libido are regulated by testosterone (in both males and females). The thicker the eyebrows the hungrier the pussy.
I wonder if she's crying cuz she just found she's gonna die from some weird sex disease.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the ugly/hot goth chick as I hand her my red silk handkerchief.
“I tested negative . . . again,” she blubbers, before raising my silk handkerchief to her schnozz and discharging a huge wad of snot into it.
"Perhaps I could be of assistance," I say.
"I can't afford . . ." the goth chick says between sobs.
"I wouldn't even dream of charging such a beauty," I tell her,
My lust, though still profound, abates a bit when she stops crying.
She hands me the end of the chain that's padlocked to the spiked, black leather dog collar that encircles a long, well-turned neck, of a kind more often found in the dreams of stranglers and hangmen than in reality.
I take the lead from her hand and she leads me to her abode.
While we make our way to her shabby room in a sleazy flophouse down on skid row, the ugly/hot goth chick calls my crabs crustaceans, I jerk the leash ever so slightly as I correct her, they’re actually insects. I lecture the girl I will soon infect with parasitic insects.
"That the human body plays host to two distinct varieties of lice is something of an anomaly. Gorillas and chimps each harbor only one variety of lice on their furry bodies.
Pediculus humanus capitis AKA human head lice, evolved from chimpanzee lice, at the same time we were evolving from their hosts. Whereas, Australopithecines contracted
Phthirus pubis AKA the crab louse, AKA crotch crickets from gorillas approximately 3.3 million years ago."
When I finish my speech, I halt for a second, and indicate for her to do the same with a tug on her leash. I dig the chewing tobacco can from the pocket of my jeans, open it and pick one of the leeches out. The leech I pluck from the teeming clot inside the can I tuck between my gum and cheek.
"Want one?' I ask, while proffering the can of wriggling annelids to the ugly/hot goth chick.
The inch-long black claws tipping her fingers pinch a leech from the clot. She peels back her black-stained lip, and presses the writhing black bloodsucker against her pinkish-purplish gums. I bet her pussy's the same color as the inside of her mouth, I think as I watch her insert the leech and the fat bloodsucking worm in my trousers sucks a little more of my vein gravy into its already bloated body.
The ugly/hot goth chick's third floor room overlooks, or perhaps I should say overhears the section of the park the cops call the Rape Jungle. The eerily echoing screams of the victims and the bestial noises of the wilding rape gangs drift from the forest of dead trees and waft through the window of her shabby room.
The Murphy bed creaks as it unfolds from the wall. The once-white now dingy grey sheets are damp to the touch and they stink of nightmare sweat and wet pussy with just the faintest undertone of the poison that they spray on cheap motel sheets to repel bedbugs.
The ugly/hot goth chick strips out of her skintight PVC dress. The gleaming white flesh beneath the material is just as shiny as the rubbery black membrane she peels off. Her skin slick with a glistening sheen, a cocktail of the sweat her plastic dress has milked from her pores and the oil she's forced to coat herself with in order to be able to slither into/out of her too tight rubber clothing.
Her tiny tits are crowned by nipples the color of rabies foam tinged with blood.
She has a werewolf bush, a thick tangle of tarantula-colored curls boiling atop her pussy, it's the kind of pubic pelt that merkin makers describe in letters to Santa Claus, it's a lush habitat for crab farming.
When her hands go to the back of her neck and begin to unbuckle the dog collar, her unshaven armpits are revealed.
"Leave it on," I command her, as I bury my nose in her hairy armpit.
It’s not like I have a fetish or something, but I’ve always found armpits rather erotic. Desire attaches itself to anything that's normally hidden from view. I find the ugly/hot goth chick's unshaven armpits indescribably carnal. The tangled patches of dark brown hair that tickle my nose are wet with sweat. Each breathe I inhale goes straight to my balloon animal of a boner, swelling it all the more. I sniff both pits, cuz I don't want the other one to get jealous.
After I finally manage to pull my schnozz outta her pits, she continues to undress. She turns around, displaying the upside down heart of her ass to me. There's a square of gauze taped to her back just above her butt.
"What's under the bandage?" I ask.
She rips it off, revealing a fresh tattoo, a black scab shaped like a spider in relief against a field of pink flesh that looks infected. When I press on the crusty black scab pus oozes out from around the edges.
I shed my clothes.
"They're soo big," the ugly/hot chick coos as she admires my pubic prawns.
My pincer-fingers pluck one of the crabs from my pubes, my head leans back, and my mouth opens; I allow the struggling louse to dangle over the pit for a few seconds before I drop it in. The crab bursts between my teeth, like those candies with gelatinous goo in the center.
"What's it taste like?" the ugly/hot goth chick asks.
It tastes a bit like shrimp and a bit like cockroach, though I don't tell her this, rather I tweeze another dick cricket from my pubes with my fingertips and hold it aloft.
"Killing a crab's a federal offense," I tell her, "punishable by twenty-five years in prison and a five-thousand dollar fine."
She throws her head back, opens her black lips, and extends her tongue. I drop the crab onto her tongue which ferries it into her maw. She moans as she masticates the parasite. Though whether this groan of pleasure is a product of the taste of the louse itself, the taste of my blood in the louse, or the delicious flavor of committing a crime I can't say.
Then I start to think it's not really fair, she's tasted my blood, I want to taste hers. I kiss her, probe her mouth with my tongue until I find the leech tucked between her lip and gums. I wrestle the leech with my tongue. I suck the writing annelid from her mouth into mine; it remains clamped to her gum tissue and won't come off no matter how hard I suck. I bite the leech in twain and her blood explodes in my mouth.
I'm running through all the arguments in my mind, as if I'm about to argue in front of the Supreme Court. When it comes time to weasel my way out of wearing a condom I turn into Clarence fuckin' Darrow. I don't even get the chance to trot out my well reasoned arguments much less my lies (women who make their men wear condoms get pussy cancer twice as much as chicks who like it raw.) The ugly/hot goth chick grabs my cock and slides it into her hot wet slit.
Our pubes interlock like Velcro. We lay motionless and watch the first crab (Crab Columbus, Crab Neil Armstrong) crawl from my pube jungle to hers.
She begins scratching almost immediately after Crab Columbus disappears into her pubic thicket. Her nails are inch long claws painted a gleaming shade of black; they leave bloody tracks carved into her anemically pale flesh.
Her hand is busy in her bush while I fuck her, but I'm not sure if it's rubbing her clit or scratching her crab bites.
As the tentacles of a monstrous orgasm pull me ever closer, I feel an intense desire to pull my dick out of the ugly/hot goth chick's cunt so that I might shoot my wad all over her bush. But her enveloping cunt-flesh feels so good I can't bring myself to withdraw. Lucky for her, cuz when I cum, the jiz shoots out of me with such force that it would have left a bruise. (Had I cum on her face it woulda left her with a black eye and possibly a broken nose.)
As that last pearl of spunk that always waits until the orgasm's over before trying to sneak out unnoticed squeezes outta my piss slit to drop into her pubic bramble, I immediately snap into panic mode. The pussy is the one small dark place that is more frightening to exit than it is to enter. The fact that my vas deferens has been clipped and tied in knots does little to assuage the fear that overwhelms me whenever I pull my dick out of a freshly fucked pussy. I heard on the news about these freaks who were going around, drugging commuters on subway trains and reversing their vasectomies while they were knocked out. That was years ago and they eventually caught them, and I would think I would've noticed if my vasectomy scar was reopened, but what if I didn't, what if one of those tadpoles I shot into her cunt tunnel makes it to the center of the maze of mucous membranes where the egg waits? What if she refuses to have an abortion? I'll have to sneak into this building and leave banana peels all over the stairs.
As we share a post coital cigarette, I notice that her tarantula bush has given me rug burn on the bottom of my belly, just above my crab jungle. While I admire the pink patches of pubic hair rug burn juxtaposed against the grey-blue
maculae caeruleae where the crabs have sucked my blood, I notice something else, the ugly/hot goth chick's crying again. (And the fluid issuing from her tear ducts sends blood surging to pool in the spongy tissues of my member.)
"I think I may have made a horrible mistake . . ." If I had a penny for every time I heard a crying broad utter that after I just fucked her . . . "I don't know if I'll be able to stand the itch," she says while she claws at her snatch thatch with a black lacquered claw.
"It'll be okay, you'll eventually get used to it," I tell her. I don't have the heart to tell her that it gets a lot worse before it gets better.
"Allow me to try to take your mind off it," I say as I bury my face between her legs.
The mushroomy taste of my cum mingles with the piscine flavor of her pussy leaving a faintly metallic aftertaste in my mouth.
I know I'm no expert pussy eater, but this is the first time I've ever had a chick jump up outta bed whilst I was tonguing her twat.
"I can't fucking stand it," the ugly/hot goth chick shrieks as she rushes across the room, at first I think she's talking about my cunt lickin', but then when I see her fingers clawing at her bush I know she's talking about the itch.
She dives through the half open window, like she's about to pluck a coin off the bottom of a swimming pool.
I leap up and run towards the window her feet are disappearing out of. I'm halfway there when I hear her hit the pavement, sounds like someone smashing a pumpkin filled with dry sticks.
When I look down, a crowd is gathering, using their camera phones to snap pictures of what's left of the ugly/hot goth chick splattered across the sidewalk.
What'd she go and do that for? She didn't have to kill herself. Her pube parasites weren't registered with the government. She could have killed them with special black market shampoo.
***
After I phone the police, I head to the bathroom to void my bladder.
When I whip my dick out and begin to piss, the searing pain is so intense I think for a second I'm gonna collapse face first into the toilet.
Judging by the color, I'd wager the fluid trickling from my dick-slit is more blood than urine. Must be kidney stones, I can feel them working their way through my pipes, I can hear them splash into the toilet water, I try to count them, but quickly lose track.
But as I stare into the bloody toilet water I begin to doubt whether they're kidney stones at all. Are kidney stones supposed to move like that? Do kidney stones crawl around in the bottom of the toilet after you piss them out?
They look like little maggots or grubs.
It seems that while I was giving the ugly/hot goth chick crabs, she was giving me something in return.
Worse yet, I'll be forced to endure the infection for at least two weeks, until the next free STD testing day at the Department of Pub ic Health.
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Joshua Dobson likes to make his own fun.
