Lounge Act, Pornographic Miniature; girl boy fetish, bloodletting, nostalgia
by
Richard Cronshey

cont...

Violet came and straddled my chest, naked in white stockings. She
squeezed a bead of my blood from an eyedropper onto the index finger of
her left hand and held it out for me to see. In the candlelight it was
nearly black, opulent red at the circumference where it was least dense.
She looked into my face, an antic expression in her eyes, and beneath
that, a question, and beneath that, tenderness . She touched my cheek
lightly with her right hand, steadying my head. I felt the listening
intelligence in the stunted fingers, star-colored and lonely. With her
left index finger she painted the blood onto my lips, her own lips
pursed, concentrating.

"Pouty coquette geisha rose bud slut mouth." She intoned, her voice low,
self absorbed, a child dressing a doll. I noticed the shadows under her
eyes, blue with violet undertones, layers of insomniac color my gaze
sank into. She painted circles on my cheeks.

"There." Satisfied, she leaned back on her palms to admire her work. I
looked at her vulva, her clit, its glistening pink snout just peeking
out of its coral jacket of flesh. It was dark inside her cookie. Looking
inside I wanted to cry. Its boggy estuarine breath amazed me, made my
dick get hard. I felt her hanging labia would be cool and sticky now. I
remembered the clammy breath that comes off standing water at night;
the taste of pennies; awaking as a child in a strange bed, leaf
shadows thrashing on the ceiling.
e
Violet wiped her fingers off on the inner thigh of her white stocking.
When I was seven me and my mom went camping in the mountains by a lake
called Virginia Lake. It was fall time. The leaves smelled good and were
red and yellow and orange. My mom gave me a whistle what to blow in case
I got lost so she could come find me. I got lost in some high grass
where was lots of little paths and a lonely smell. I blower the whistle.
It was getting Dark. My mom came and she got me out. She took me home.
But it took a long time. It took a long time for her to find me.

My body rang. Everything would be gone.

"Cunt mouth Satan girl face." Violet said accusingly. She squeezed a
dollop of blood from the dropper into her left palm. She spit into the
blood and worked the viscous mixture together in her hand. Her eyes
locked on mine went suddenly sad, then blank. I couldn't say what color
they were. A string of spit swung from her lip. The scar ascending her
upper lip was purple and swollen. It glimmered in the candle light.