Crazy Cock Read Online Free PDF

whore,” he said.
    â€œIt amounts to the same thing. You like to call me names. You’re not happy unless you’re criticizing me.”
    â€œOh, don’t let’s go into that,” he said wearily. He felt like screaming, “The hell with all this! Do you love me, that’s all I want to know!
Do you love me?”
But before he could whip it out she was already lulling him with her deep, vibrant voice. Her tongue was fluent . . . too fluent. The throb of her dark, lush cadences pulsing through him like the warm blood of her veins awakened sensations that mingled confusedly with the meaning of her words. Darkly clustering, profuse and obscure, his thoughts penetrated hers and hung there behind the words, a veil which the slightest wind might rend.

3
    T HERE HE sat, the villainous little duffer, with his golden locks and his pointy Chinese nails. He was almost in the show window, his back turned to the street. Remarkable what a ringer he was for John the Baptist. When he stood up and presented himself full on he changed suddenly into a mastiff, that intelligent sort that learns to walk on its hind legs after snatching a few pieces of raw meat. He wore a habitually placid expression. Either he had just fed well or he was about to feed well. An Oriental passivity. A glass lake, which if it rippled, would crack.
    Vanya’s broad shoulders and towering build almost hid him from view. It was comical to behold his solicitude. Seizing her hand, he wet it with his lips like some whelp licking the hand of its mistress.
    An odor of rancid food was all-pervasive.
    â€œEat, Vanya, eat!” he implored obsequiously. “Eat all you want. Eat until you burst!” Hildred he politely ignored, or if he was obliged to address her, he elaborated his remarks with such flowery insincerity that she felt like strangling him. He had a way of drawing back his upper lip and smiling through his yellow teeth—a most revolting blandishment. “You look very charming tonight,” he would say,
“very
charming,” and turn his back before he had even finished the compliment.
    A mild commotion was taking place because of the presenceof a poet who insisted on shoving spaghetti into his vest pockets. In the last stages of intoxication, he was endeavoring to amuse a couple of females who were hanging on to him like vultures. Beneath their fur coats, which he opened occasionally, they were nude. The corners of his bloodshot eyes were filled with a whitish substance; the lids, which had shed their lashes, looked like sore gums. When he grinned there showed between his thick, shapeless lips a few charred stumps and the tip of a moist tongue. He laughed incessantly, a laugh that was like the gurgle of a sewer.
    The sluts for whose ears his stuttering delicacies were intended regarded him with fatuous incomprehension. With regard to the other sex he acknowledged only one concern—that his women possess the organs essential for his gratification. Beyond that it mattered little whether they were brown or white, cross-eyed or deaf, diseased or imbecilic. As for that little duffer Willie Hyslop and his gang, one could not tell unless one looked below the waist, and even then the problem was complicated.
    â€œVile, disgusting creature!” Hildred exploded after they had left the cafeteria. “I don’t see how you can tolerate him.”
    â€œOh, he really isn’t such a bad sort,” said Vanya. “I don’t see why you should despise him any more than the others.”
    â€œI can’t help it,” said Hildred. “It annoys me that you should permit him to use you.”
    â€œBut I’ve told you, I’m broke . . . dead broke. If it weren’t for him, the little fool that he is, I don’t know where I would be now.”
    These remarks were passed on the street, at Vanya’s door.
    Why does she stand here? thought Hildred. Why doesn’t she invite me up?
    As if