Skid Mark Hunter

"Okay, are we ready? Good, now take a deep, deep breath. Good girl, now open yo' throat baby, for here comes the custard."

Chapter 13.

"Awww! Baby, that is so, so good! So very tight sweetie. Stop kickin' honey. Uncle Jessie loves you, and wouldn't do anythang to hurt yo' okay? Now relax yo' throat sweetie, uncle Jess already has the first six inches down yo' throat, now there's just another five and a half to go, so here it come honey. Oh, my God! Get it in there, all of it honey, jus' one more inch, Ahhh! It be so good honey; yo' be a very good girl today: Uncle Jessie will take yo' out fir ice-cream tomorrow, because yo' are so good."

"Hold yo' head very still sweetie an' Ole' Jess won't be long: Feel Uncle Jessie's ass pumping his cock in and out of yo' tight little throat, like a steam-engine piston arm my lovely little doll."

"Ok, ok! Let Uncles Jessie pull his cock out of yo' throat fir a minute honey, so yo' can catch a breath or two. Right. That's enough. Take a very deep breath now sweet honey, open up, Awww! That's it, all the way down in one go. Honey, Uncle Jessie loves yo'. No one has ever swallowed all of Jessies eleven and a half inches before sweetie. Missie is a good girl – a very good girl!"

Chapter 14.

"Jessie 's coming now, honey. Uncle Jess is gonna come straight into yo' tummy baby, so no spewing, okay? God baby. Good girl. Nod. Ok."

"Oh! My frigging God! I'm fuckin' coming! Arrgh!, yes, yes...yummy yummy argh! Baby, Uncle Jessie can't stop coming. Feel ole' Jessies balls dancing up an' down on yo' face honey. Every time Jessie's balls bounce, another squirt of baby-custard fills yo' lovely little gut. My God! ...Thirteen, fourteen, argh...fifteen. Jeepers, Uncle Jess has never come fifteen times before. Uncle Jess is empty. Uncle Jessie is done!"

"Let Ole' Jessie roll over here. That's right sweetie, breathe deeply – breathe. Look at Uncle Jessie's cock honey. It's like a wet noodle now. That's a good girl, suck on the end jus' like that. Sup-up the last few drops of Uncle Jessie's cock-cream. Ummm! Jessie likes it, honey. Ummmm! Jessie likes."

Chapter 15.

"What's that noise? It's the front gate. Jeepers it's yo' mom honey. She's home. Quick! Get up. Tidy yo' hair missie, give me my clothes, I'll be in the bathroom, lick the come off yo' chin sweetie. Please please try an' delay yo' mom, until Uncle Jessie gits his clothes on. I'll be in the bathroom here. Be good sweetie. Please, be good."

Chapter 16.

[Ruby (mother)]: "Hi. Honey. Oh! What a day. I haven't stopped since I left this morning. Come here love, and give your mom a kiss. Oww! You're sweating honey, and why is your hair all messed up like that sweetie? Are you feeling okay my little cherub? Don't worry mom will make a nice pot of steaming hot chicken soup for you later my little angel. It'll do you the wonders of good, my little darling. I love you, my child. I just love you. Come, give mother another kiss. Ummm, What's that taste on your lips, honey? Have you seen Uncle Jessie lately? Suddenly he came into my mind for some reason or another?"

"What's that smell, honey?"

"Have you been rubbing, my darling, again? You know what Sister Mary told you when she caught you rubbing in the school showers with Debbie – why the both of you could go blind if you don't quit doing that stuff. When was the last time you washed that little thing of yours honey pie? Three days ago! Oh! My God Sweetie, you have to wash your groove at least once a day honey, maybe twice a day now that you got all that hair down there, luv. I know it's cold, but just roll up a wet flannel, open your legs wide like this, and run that cloth back and forth between your lips, like there is no tomorrow, and use a large cloth, honey. I mean you might as well do your asshole while you're at it right? Now go to the bathroom, and give it a go, and I'll open up a window or two in here. Don't worry darling. Your mum threw out an old pair of knickers of her's once that were just too soiled to launder, and when she was coming home from work the next day, she saw half a dozen hooligans, and louts, fighting tooth and nail, along with a couple of ravenous dogs and a cat, all vying just get a sniff of the – caked gusset – of my prior discarded panties, and the flies that it drew was – well - something out of a Gandhi movie, itself. So go wash that thing baby, and wash it good and proper this time cherub – good and proper. You hear me my little angel – good and proper this time! Good."

"Can you hear me my little angel?"

"Okay, well of course I was appalled, and beat them off with a broom handle, yet somewhere, deep down inside me, I was rather flattered. Take it from your mommy sweetie. Wash your clout daily, or you won't have a minute to yourself, from these knicker-sniffing riff-raff. God! I have been so, so licked in my time, and I can't say that I didn't enjoy it, but now and again – just now and again, it's nice not to have a man's head up between your legs. I mean, holding farts in can become excruciatingly boring, in the end – you know? Everyone likes to play the methane-trombone – even if it is just now and then, out in the woods alone, and just for the squirrels and moles, and the mice and the bears, and the bees and birds, or just under water – scuba diving in the Caribbean. Fish have ears; it is said. And sharks can be very romantic, whilst being enthralled by a well tuned ass-brass serenade. Take it from mom baby-doll. It's better to swill the mackerel's mouth every now and again, instead of having to chase delinquents and mad dogs off with a stick in the snow."

Chapter 17.

"What do you mean honey, you can't? Why can't you? What do you mean there's someone in there? Who's in there? Let me see."

"Jessie, what are you doing here, and why are you not wearing your trousers?"

"You saw Cindy walking in the snow, and stopped to give her a lift home, O.K., and the trousers...?"

"So you are telling me that you went to Bert's Burger, just before you picked Cindy up, and that you dropped your burger in your lap, when you bent over to open your truck door to let her in, and now you're cleaning off the ketchup..."

"Get out of there Jessie. Yes. I can see you only have your boxer shorts on – Cindy has seen worse things than that, and give me those pants. I want to see this."

"Stand there Jessie, yes right there next to Cindy."

"Cindy, was Uncle Jessie eating a burger when he picked you up today? No. Right."

"What do you mean Jessie? You think I'm gonna believe you when you say that the burger landed in your lap, then just rolled under your driver's seat, and you just carried on like nothing happened?"

"Cindy, my lovely darling, did Uncle Jessie seem upset when you got into the truck – did he mention that he had dropped his burger, or that he had ketchup on his pants? No. I thought so."

"So, Jessie: Where is the ketchup stain on your trousers? I don't see any."

"Oh! It dried and flaked off did it? How lucky you are, because I do the wash around here, and I have never had ketchup behave like that! Oh! I'm glad you're amazed by this miraculous event Jessie, because I am not!"

"Yes. I know you like Bert's Burgers Jessie. What did you say just then? You're mumbling Jessie – again. Oh! You said you like Bert's because of the ketchup that he uses, because it doesn't stain your clothes if you spill it, and that it flakes off and leaves no trace whatsoever. Yes, yes. Ole' Bert could make a million with that one, hey Jessie? ...I'm listening...!"

"So, Jessie. Let's just say – let's just say for one fleeting moment, that I believe your story, and then the Berger, will still be under your driver's seat of your truck, right? What's the matter Jessie, are you coming down with the flu or something? Why, my poor dear, you're sweating like a Nixon upper lip honey-buns; and what is that wet stain growing larger and larger in the front of your jockey shorts, as we speak dear? Do you need a glass of water Jessie – my love? Orange - juice then...? No, nothing? Oh. You just want to go now do you, well, Jessie dearest, I won't be too much longer, honey, and stop shaking like that dear, you're making me nervous."

Chapter 18.

"What is this in your back pocket Jessie?"

"What do you mean, "What back pocket?""

"The back pocket of your ketchupless jeans Jessie. Yes. This one!"

"Oh. It's a hand embroidered handkerchief given to you by your late aunt Helen is it. Well, I'll be a Monkey's Uncle: Jessie, I never took you for being such a gentleman – using handkerchiefs and all now. May I see?"

"What do you mean Jessie? What makes it sacred? Aunt Helen would love me to see her hand embroidered handkerchief, don't you think?"

"Well, just looky what we have here. Why, was ole' Aunt Helen losing her faculties toward the end, because this looks a lot like a pair of panties to me, instead of a hand embroidered snot rag, Jessie? Owww! And look what we have inside, nothing but a great big brown and beige skid mark, sitting there silently, crusting up at the edges as it dries. It's a pity that they weren't made from Bret's magic ketchup, right Jessie, and then they would just flake off at the rub, and leave no stain – right!"

"Did you forget to wipe your ass again my little angel? Was that a nod or a shake there my luv – I couldn't tell, really?"

Chapter 19.

"You - turn around. Yes. I mean you Jessie. Do it now!"

"Okay, my sweet little cherub, lift your little mini skirt up. Higher...higher – just a little bit more honey; lift it up like this honey – high! How many times have I told you to do what your mamma tells you to do, when I tell you to do it, and not when you feel like doing it? Lift up your fucking skirt – Now! I want it all the way up to your waist belt if necessary. Good honey, now open your legs: Wide, when I tell you too -thank you."

"My God! Mother's little baby has a badger's ass growing between her thighs. Mother and child ought to talk about shaving honey or maybe just a good trim. It must have come from the Greek father's side of the family." (Conjectured the mom).

"Your mother didn't know that the lips of your slice were crusted-up with all of this drying crystallized foam everyday sweetheart".

"Yes honey, your mother has to sniff you there, and taste your crystals."

"Of course, it wasn't too bad, and your mother is happy that you enjoyed it."

"Your mother has to feel inside you honey, Ok. There's your Hymen".

"Yes. I'm relieved sweetie. Your mother wants at least one of the family to be a virgin when first married. Let, your mother tell you, honey. Her daughter isn't missing much, after thirty years. It's not exactly like sliced bread anymore - more like a sourdough baguette being ripped apart by a cheese gobbling member of the proletariat; intermittently swigging gob full's of half chewed mush down a neck with a labor's suntan attached to the back of it, whilst laying brazenly in the sun, just over the hedgerow, where it picks potato for a living."

"Yes, honey. Your mom feels that the reconstituted thought of her own memories of courting, and marriage-hood are romantic; about as romantic as gutting a cow, held up by its hind legs, after being knocked-on-the-head – the billowing plumes of steam from the fallen entrails, playing portraits in the steaming chill of a midwinter's slaughter. Yes, sweetie, we all have to eat."

Chapter 19.

"Do it now Jessie. I didn't ask you to ask me why. I told you to drop your draws, by God. Drop them!"

"You haven't got a hard on right now, because you're tired you say: Is that right Jessie? You always have a hard on when I hold your staff in my hand. Why is it like a wet noodle today, my stud? And what is all of this sticky, creamy cream oozing out of your bell end – staining the front of your boxers, ay? I've seen this before with you. After you have had your way with me, and fell off to sleep, grunting, snoring and farting like a hog after a good feed. Pull up your boxers Jessie. Pull them up!"

"Okay: My sweet little darling daughter. Your mother wants you to know, that none of this is your fault, but that she has to know what is this white, creamy stuff dripping off your chin, and what is all of that white crusty stuff, in the corners of your beautiful lips? Mama wants to know baby. Come here, kiss mama on the lips, and let her lick them clean for you."

"Yes. Mama thinks it is cum too. I love you, honey."

Chapter 20.

"I'm yelling at you because, somehow, you seem to have conveniently lost all comprehension unto the meaning of the English language right now. I told you to get your ass out here, and let's go and retrieve the burger, that you dropped and that – apparently, rolled under your driver's seat."

"Granted. It's cold, and it's snowing. So what! Screw your pants. Git yo' ass out here right now, an' I don't care who in the mother fuck is looking – I gots' yo' keys, Jessie. Git out here now! Let's go find the burger sailor-boy, ass-hole. Cindy, yo' git yo' asshole out here too honey –- now!"

Chapter 21.

"Click." (Jessie's driver's side door opens).

"Okay, Jessie, git the burger."

" - I'm waiting..."

"What do you mean Jessie? What yo' mean yo' can't find it!"

"Perhaps yo' can't find it because it was never there in the first place –-honey!"

"Don't ask me if I –- am crazy, you cock-sucking dam pedophile!"

"I don't care that she is over eighteen, she still a child Jessie – still a fucking child man – a child...!

"Don't try and tell me that you are not a 'short-eye', just because she is eighteen and a half you fucked up motherfucker; and don't try and insinuate that a mouse must have gotten into the cab, and eaten the burger, then mysteriously escaped, through that rust hole. A rat yes! But, a mouse – no. A mouse could never eat that much in a couple of hours. No. No! I can't believe it. It is not possible...?"

"Where's the rat shit Jessie? Where is the shit of a mouse?"

"No, Jessie, you and I can see that this is a rolled-up snot, from your own nose Jessie, yes, from your own nose. It may look like rat shit Jessie, but you and I know it is nothing more than just pure snot. So don't – please – try and sell me a bill of rights. I know which way is up Jessie. I know!"

Chapter 22.

"What are you sorry about Jessie? Sorry, perhaps, that you got caught...?"

"Yes, sweetie, my lovely daughter, you heard me right. Go up to the house and git my .350, out of the right-hand side of my bed draw. Be careful honey, it's loaded. Bring it to me. Go, honey, go git mamma's rhythm-stick, 'cus Uncle Jessie is just about to learn how to dance."

[Jessie]: "Fuck yo' Ruby. Yo' ain't got no proof, and the girl is too dumb to say what is an' what isn't, an' tomorrow, all the cum, and all the who-how, will be nothin' more than yesterdays news, honey. Now that's the bare facts, and that's the way it gonna stay. I'm gonna go now, and watch that I don't call the sherriff on yo' crazy ass – yo hear – Bitch mother fucker.

Chapter 23.

Jessie took off a'runnin' and left Ruby kneeling there in the snow alone: Her frigid tears meandering down her cheeks. He grinned, and even broke in and out of spurts of ebullience, and almost satirical laughter.

Cindy returned and handed her mother the gun.

Ruby, an ex-military combatant, leveled, both hands out, centered on the pivotal fulcrum of the shoulder blades. Leaned forward to allow for recoil, took several deep breaths, exhaled twice, and held the last one and fired three shots in rapid succession.

Chapter 24.

The first bullet hit an elderly Chinese gentleman, out walking with his wife of some 50 plus years, and tore the right-hand side of his scull off. He fell back kicking wildly, as if treading water, as one does, who hasn't, quite, learned how to swim yet as a kid. His walking-stick, though, gently finding the way for him -still, even though he was now on his back, pumping blood up into the freezing air, as if striving relentlessly up, and into Heaven itself.

The second shot ripped the left-hand mammary gland off of his accompanying wife, as she turned sideward, to let the fleeing Jessie pass in his related furor of escape.

The third shot – always the good one – seared, at a blistering velocity, directly between Jessie's legs.

The round, a hollow-point, hit him square in the perineum.

As the projectile shattered upon impact, and exploded into an ever expanding cone of razor sharp shrapnel, it severed the entirety of Jessie's genital region, expelling his scotum bag, along with its interior balls, and coupled with the full length of his now erect phallus, a phallus proud with the expectancy of – "getting away with it all", that every fetus learns at birth: That which is realized by the infant; that he, or she, has finally escaped, and has also evaded, the strangulating chicane of the mother's cunt during delivery. It's an age-old abscond.

Chapter 25.

The Old man's wife sank to her knees in the snow, clutching her chest akin to Sister Theresa, grasping her heart in prayer for humanity itself. She was looking for her left tit. It was gone, and still in the air via Ruby's second bullet of the trigger.

Jessie's entire genital array burst out of the front of his jockeys, with a bloody vengeance.

Chapter 26.

As he fell, wounded headlong into the snow covered pavement, writhing in agony, his balls, scotum-bag, and penis ripped out of him, and still in the air, along with the old man's wife's left tit; he finally came to a skidding halt, leaving a runway of brightly colored blood trail behind him.

Jessie - horrified; as he heard the dull thuds of his cock and balls land obliquely into the pristine whitness of the driven red stained snow, just inches ahead of his pain twisted, grotesque face of retribution, then came the flop, of the old woman's tit.

Chapter 27.

A wandering dog happened by; sniffing and ferreting about, and serendipitously came upon the steaming bodily remnants and hot entrails, of both Jessie's genitilia, and the old woman's tit. It stopped for a moment, looked Jessie, then the old woman straight in the eye, growlled, showed its teeth, summarilly gobbled up the twitching morsels, lifted its hind leg, urinated, then moved on unconcerned – furrowing away, with unconscious glee.

Chapter 28.

Jessie screamed out, that it was the bitch's fault, what with her firm apples, and boy-scout sleeping-bag ass-cheeks, that he as a man of the world, just had to..."Take care of business", the way a man ought to have done, and testified, that he was innocent, of all wrongdoing, according to history, and the way of the world, itself.

Chapter 29.

As Ruby and her daughter slowly made their way back up and into their apartment, arm in arm, to call the authorities, and to make chicken soup, the daughter asked her mom what would become of Uncle Jessie, now that he didn't have his balls and cock that he had always used to use women, in order for him to survive?

Ruby said that she didn't know.

Cindy naively suggested that Jessie could now bonafidely undergo gender transformation and reconstruction and not, this time, solely based on the boring psychological quips of the transgender lot, but more on the realism that his knackers were blown off, and that sometime in the future, he would desire to be fucked. Preferably, for him, by a woman in a man's body, who was given a dick instead of a hole at birth? Ruby contemplated the scenario for a moment, but rejected the premise on the foundation that women of this day and age, need to have balls, if not literally, then at least figuratively , but that Uncle Jess, now had neither.

Upon entering the apartment, Ruby excused herself, and used a vibrator behind locked doors of the communal bathroom, in order to come, and squirt urine out of her vaginal lips, at her very own image, reflected back to her, in the slightly dimmed version, depicted – in real-time - upon the piss running glass monitor of the medicine cabinet mirror; a rather curious effect when mirrors are involved. She held apart her genitalia flaps, in a vee on her grieving cunt, by her index and middle fingers. She finished her gasping, just soon enough to be able to listen to the dying residual quips, of her daughter's self-inflicted orgasm too, out there beyond the door of the shitter, somewhere in the dark bedroom – which they shared.