Ransom's Voice by Dvorkin Gary;

Author:Dvorkin, Gary; [Gary Dvorkin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 6038106
Publisher: Brown Books Publishing Group
Published: 2016-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

On top of Dominique’s bed, Luke lay in the darkness, thinking. He felt better, of course. What a relief to have finally fucked her again! Women were such a pain in the ass. Why had she resisted so much? It wasn’t as if she had complained the first time they had spent the night together. She had been so into it! So what was the big deal? Plus! Didn’t she realize how nuts it was driving him, that every single fucking time he had called her over the last couple of days, she was always in a big hurry to get off the phone? What the fuck was that about? What was the big emergency?

Fuck! I mean, give me a break!

Luke became aware of just how sore his dick was. Jesus, it hurt. Fuck. It might hurt to fuck her again. That would be a drag. Which reminded him. Where was she? What was she doing?

He felt bad. He really did. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her. Christ, he hoped so! He was sorry, that he was so, what was the word? Passionate! But women are so fucking weird. One moment they are as totally into sex as guys, and then they can just forget that sex even exists. It’s never that way for a guy. Sex always exists. It’s never really, ever, not there.

Luke realized that he had forgotten for the moment what number Dominique was. He had always kept count of the number of women he’d fucked. Oh, yeah. Two hundred seventy-nine. “That’s a pretty good number,” he told himself, smiling.

I wonder when I’m gonna get to three hundred? In fact, I wonder how many women I’m gonna fuck by the time it’s all done? That will be interesting. Let’s see. I’m thirty-three. Figure, what? I’ll live to be about eighty? No. That’s too complicated. Make it divisible by thirty-three. So, what? Sixty-six? That seems a bit short. So, like what? Ninety-nine? OK, what the fuck! Ninety-nine it is. So. Two hundred and seventy nine times three makes? Fuck, this is not easy. Round it up to closer to three hundred. Three hundred times three, you’re looking at nearly nine hundred women! And, let’s be realistic. Probably when you’re an old fuck, you won’t be doing it as much. So by the time you check out, what? Seven hundred? Eight hundred? Hey! Not fucking bad, man!

Luke sighed. All this arithmetic forced him to accept that he would die without making love to every good-looking woman on the planet. He knew rationally that it was a ridiculous thought. He still could not allow himself to use the word “fantasy.” He clung to the idea that just somehow it might be possible. Inevitably, within a second, he knew. Never going to happen, man. That’s just the way life is. But it still pissed him off. Not fair! He hated this feeling. Just fucking hated it.

Now this reality was followed by its doppelgänger. It always came. Right after he made love with a woman.

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