Saline Solution Read Online Free PDF Page A

.'
    'Baby, you off inside your head again.'
    'Then bring me out, make me real. Take control of me, use me, hold me. Slide down so our bodies feel the length of each other. Put your hardness between my thighs. Feel me open. Feel my legs part and raise up for you. Put it at the opening. Fuck me. Fuck me in the arse. Do it now.'
    'Oohhhh, Jeeeessssussss.'
    'It's all yours. I raise my arse so your cock can more beautifully sink hotly in. Your eyes burn into mine. I can't hold myself any longer. I am slipping and slipping. Oh, excuse me, let this wave of rapture pass.'
    'That's once. You going to come a hundred times tonight before I'm finished.'
    'Stupid prick, it's not you who does it, it's me. I let you make me come.'
    'Get on your belly, bitch.'
    'Yes, now I can't defend, I can't hold back. Your knees come in against the backs of my knees. How you strain into me, how your cock excites me. You slant it up, and then thrash to each side, and then slant it down. You cover all the inside of my hole. You fuck me thoroughly. Jolts of electric fire run through me. My fingers twitch and I bite the pillow. I am being fucked. I am being fucked. There is nothing in the world but being fucked. Now you call me. You have me look into your eyes. I look back over my shoulder, my neck bent like a bird's, and your wet warm mouth covers mine. My legs open more, and I feel you between them; you push your pelvis between my cheeks; I feel your hip bones against my arse, your cock inside me, inside me. I am naked to you. Open and bent, my cunt completely empty to your thrust. My cunt. My breasts are punishers for your hands, my mouth a receptacle for your spit, my eyes the record of my thought. You know it all. I am you. I have incorporated you. You push me to my knees. You hit hard at the deep tender spot. I feel pain. I hurt. I beg you continue. I push into you. Oh, snarling black animal at my neck. Oh, fuck me now. I give you now. Fuck me now. I have me now. And all the sounds I make into the night as you gyrate and erupt inside me.'
    There was a long slience.
    Then a low laugh.
    'Baby, you are too much. 1 He paused. 'But I just can't make it today. When are you coming to the city next?'
    'Maybe ten days.'
    'Call me,' he said. And we hung up.
    The problem is confusion. What is one to do with a club foot of salad? All my attempts to dead with living as a problem embroiled in technology, either of metal or of the mind. And I couldn't find the relationship between seriousness and silliness. The leaders laugh, but they have no humour.
    I sometimes want and sometimes do not want. When I want, I move towards the process of consumption, romantically known as sharing. I seek out those people who have complementary need, and we service one another's vacuums. This is simple commerce. All the rest of it is soap opera for the slaves. Obvious truth, distorted by the masters, comes to seem contemptible in the face of sanctimonious official lies.
    What was I to make of my shamelessly flinging myself at Bosley? What relation did that have in relation with my relation with Lucinda? With her, in the beginning, the pattern was classic: giving-and-giving, giving-and-taking, taking-and-giving, taking-and-taking, and mutual isolation. Every exchange we had, from fucking to fighting, fit this paradigm. The honeymoon period released in us enough energy for me to see the structures clearly. But she got sloppy, and I got lazy, and our days lost their sharpness.
    It was becoming clear that I was interested in the dynamics of interaction with people, and the accompanying changes within myself, and it made almost no difference who the other person was, so long as he or she maintained a certain level of energy for the period we were together. In short, the person was not important, merely the person's effects.
    When Lucinda and I began fucking, there was always fireworks. The first penetration past the tightness, the joy of discovery, the plunge into virgin virginity. Then