Ultra Relationship News – No. 8 – “Grape!” [Part 2]

[Continued from Part 1]

STRAW: Oh YASSS! I take… and I… slowly… calmly—a’ corse my ticker’s poundin’ away inside my chest and my you-know-what’s acting like a tent pole… so I’m arching up like a carport… and…

EDDIE: …you slip the grape in?

STRAW: Yup!

EDDIE: Cool! So, how’s it taste?

STRAW: At this point, we don’t know.

EDDIE: ‘Cuz it’s, like, inside her?

STRAW: Right.

EDDIE: So… you’re what? Supposed to suck it out?

STRAW: You got it, Eddie Boy! You’re not nearly as thick as you pretend to be!

EDDIE: I was kinda wondering were this is goin’…

STRAW: So. Yeah. She’s lovin’ it. She’s breathin’ HARD and sayin’ stuff like “feelin’ fruity, Raymond?” and “roll it around, baby, inside” and then: “SUCK IT OUT, NOW!!!”

EDDIE: Oh wow. So, did ya?

STRAW: I TRIED TO!!!

EDDIE: Whatta ya mean you “tried to”?

STRAW: It would NOT come out!!!

EDDIE: No.

STRAW: YES!

EDDIE: No.

STRAW: So. I got my tongue all up in there, see, an’ I’m rollin’ it around… and suckin’ like a Hoover Vacuum… and tryin’ to do one of them “angle it first” type jobs with my tongue… an’ it ain’t comin’—although she IS—and I’m goin’ CRAZY!!!

EDDIE: Oh… Emm… Gee…

STRAW: ‘Cuz the damn grape is STUCK IN THERE!!!!!

EDDIE: What’d ya do then?

STRAW: I did what any normal red-blooded American idiot would do: I shoved in ANOTHER ONE!!!

EDDIE: No. You gotta be kiddin’ me…

STRAW: No. I’m not. I’m thinkin’—in my delirium—that if I could just stick another one in, at an angle, ya know, then… well… the second one could force the first one sideways… so as to THEN be able to suck ‘em both out… like torpedoes… one at a time!

EDDIE: You are a crazy man, Ray. Anybody ever tell you that?

STRAW: All the time! So picture this: She’s all writhing on the rug, panting and gasping and screaming obscenities and enjoying her orgasm… and I’m on my face, probing and tonguing and sucking like a gasoline siphon, and worried chit-less, and… she’s all gettin’ off… and then… all of a sudden… I LOSE BOTH OF ‘EM!!

EDDIE: No. BOTH grapes??

STRAW: Yup. Da bote of ‘em.

EDDIE: Inside.

STRAW: Right.

EDDIE: So then what?

STRAW: So then… THEN!!!! Then her cell phone goes off… and she just HAS to answer… and meanwhile the door bell chimes… and the people downstairs are slammin’ their broom handles up into the ceiling… and some dude outside the door goes “Keep it down in there! It’s two o’clock in the morning!!”

EDDIE: No.

STRAW: I wanna tell ya! So, like, THEN she’s talkin’ into her cell phone: “You’ll never EVER guess what, Dory. Guess what is happening to me right now?”

EDDIE: The broad on the other end goes: “You’re being graped”?

STRAW: Hah! Nah. But that’s good! But I’m still having one hail-of-a-time here! I’m now tryin’ to “fish out” TWO matherfracking gollam GREEN GRAPES with just my frickin’ FINGERS!!!”

EDDIE: While she’s on the phone.

STRAW: Good thing, too! ‘Cuz she’s now askin’ her friend how the flock to get grapes out!!

EDDIE: And her friend goes: “Plug in the Hoover!”

STRAW: No. But that’s good too. (pause, drinks) It turns out, Eddie Boy—and I never knew this; in all my trillion years of broad banging—it turns out that… there’s this, like, right turn inside… um… the VahJayJay. A right turn! Like, there’s this T-intersection. Like… well, I always thought the road went straight… but HER road has ANOTHER road, a side road, which makes a right-hand turn, and…

EDDIE: …that’s where both of the grapes are.

STRAW: Right! Hidden off to the side—the unreachable side—of the side road… off in the, uh, bushes somewhere.

EDDIE: So, what’d ya do?

STRAW: What could I do? I used more fingers.

EDDIE: Right.

STRAW: And I promise you: I DUG up the entire wheat field off to the side of that danged side road. I DUG like that’s where the buried treasure was.

EDDIE: Because, really, it was.

STRAW: Right. And finally… finally… FINALLY… FINALLY!!!! I dug ‘em both out.

EDDIE: Thank Ja.

STRAW: Right. ‘Cuz otherwise…

EDDIE: You don’t wanna think about it.

STRAW: Right.

EDDIE: So, like, what about the doorbell, the pounding on the floor from downstairs, and the cell phone call?

STRAW: It all went away, hey, right after she stopped screamin’ out her fourth or fifth BIG O.

EDDIE: Which is good.

[They both drink some more, and chow down on the remaining food.]

EDDIE: So. How’d they taste?

STRAW: The fries?

EDDIE: No, the grapes.

STRAW: Soggy. Kinda shriveled.

EDDIE: Turned into raisins, huh?

STRAW: Yeah. Kind of.

EDDIE: Good thing you weren’t tryin’ to douse ‘em with whipped cream first.

STRAW: Right.

EDDIE: Otherwise… she coulda died.

STRAW: Right.

[They finish drinking and eating.]

STRAW: You done? Let’s get outa here.

EDDIE: Right. Good story! But hey, next time try ice cream. It melts.

[They exit.]

Happy Long Run Tomorrow, Every Body!

Yours troubly,

Rich Limacher
TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net
(“And to think, for eight hundred years, all we ever had were strawberries”)

Yankee Folly of the Day:
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