A Study of Monsters by Quixote Merillees

Author:Quixote Merillees
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publish on Demand Global LLC

Balancing

Under cover of an August night, the Sword of God had emerged from under the front porch, filthy with dust and rat droppings. She had crawled around the concrete floor of the garage, crept through the basement with a flashlight and gone under the back porch at midnight, seeking out and replacing the poisoned tuna patties with her own tuna. Now, having exchanged the last two under the front porch, she regretted her filthy Chinese jeans and a torn sleeve. Scanning the street, she saw no lights, no neighbors in windows staring, and she was about to creep out from under the front porch, rise to her feet and go inside.

As she lifted one knee over the row of bricks which marked off the flower bed in front of the porch, she heard footsteps softly tapping down the stairs leading from the upstairs apartment. She drew back into the darkness under the porch. Expecting to see Rob Peebles go from the porch to his car, she was stunned to see Kathy stop on the sidewalk, glance at her front door, then wave to the front door of Peebles’ apartment, and quickly disappear into the gloom of yellow street lights and shadows.

What was she doing with Peebles? Had Kathy knocked on her door and gotten no answer? Why didn't she knock again? Why did she wave to him? You don't wave to someone if you're just asking him if he's seen the girl downstairs. And what was that light, happy lilt to her walk, why was she smiling? What could Peebles do to make her happy? Peebles spent all his time with boys! Some of the older kids said he preferred boys. What attraction could there be that would make Kathy smile? How long was she up there? What did they do? Maybe Peebles was bisexual.

If he had touched her, maybe it was against her will. If she had let him touch her, that would be another thing. Why would she let him touch her? The little perve, she enjoyed it too much. She might have encouraged him to touch her. She could do it, the little tramp, she could push that juicy mound of hers against the thin material of the cheap pants she always wore, she could drive him crazy. Men would have no self-control once they saw the bulge of her engorgement. Maybe she acted with him as she did with her, languid and sweet, running her fingers through her hair, opening her legs to show how swollen she was, stroking herself under the curve of her own breasts, moaning and mewing each time she was touched. The thought of his greasy semen all over her, my Kathy, my Kathy, it made her sick. She crawled out from under the porch and went inside to take a shower. She threw her dirty jeans on the back porch.

She couldn't sleep. Her mind turned it over, questioning, doubting, forming plans, rejecting plans. In the middle of the night, she got up and went outside, leaving her front door open.

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