Orgasmo by Donald O'Donovan

Author:Donald O'Donovan [O'Donovan, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Open Books
Published: 2014-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

11

In one of Fausto's unpublished literary novels—a real book, not the Fernando de León schlock he cranks out by the yard for Norma Jacoby and Ruby Fine—a hobo riding in a boxcar dreams of a simpler way of life. A new world unfolds in his mind. He sees himself walking through lush green meadows where laughing children dance and play. From the top of a hill he watches America's great cities empty as enthusiasm for work declines. The people begin farming the land, the grazing animals return, and the wolves, and the old ways come back. "I remember now," the hobo murmurs in his sleep. "You catch it and you eat it, and you leave the bones and move on."

That was Fausto, the real Fausto, the Fausto I'd known back in the early days, the Suzy Soojian days, before this ennui, this 21st century soul syphilis came over him. Fausto the holy primitive, Fausto the natural man. Simple, lusty, unadorned. Leave the bones and move on. But now...

We went to La Pachanga for a few pistos and to hash things over. It had been a while. Fausto was in an awful state. The hombre de papel business again, and how he's lost his soul and all that, but now there was a new development, stemming from an incident two nights ago at the Kona Kai Club, the Barefoot Bar. He was a little drunk but minding his own business, and pretty soon a bevy of French tourist girls plunked themselves down at his table. Everybody was slurping up Mai Tais and before long one of the French cuties starts playing footsie with him under the table. Of course! That's Fausto. The old Fernando de León floy floy, it never fails. He doesn't have to do anything. Pheromones. The man emits pheromones like a cabbage moth. So they're playing footsie and he sticks his bare foot up under her skirt and it turns out she wasn't wearing any pants. "French girls don't, you know," he confides slyly. So he pokes the big toe of his left foot inside her and begins working it around.

"How did she..."

"How did she like it? My god, man, she went ballistic! You should have heard the shriek she let out when she got her gun. Everybody was staring at us. You'd think an air raid siren went off. I thought she'd dissolve my fucking toe, she was so juiced up. The syrup was pouring out of her like molten lava. She opened up like an artichoke. I could easily have gotten my whole foot in there. It was like stepping in quicksand. I thought she was going to suck me right into herself. You know, it might seem strange, but actually you can feel a lot more with your toe than you can with your prick. Did you know that? All the little layers, so squirmy, like a ball of worms. The tunnel of love, man. The tunnel of love... After that she was mad for me.

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