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Subject: {ASSM} Mat Twassel: Two Days in August
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Two Days in August
from Calendar.atEROS by Mat Twassel
=========================================================
August 8, 2002
Katherine's Journal--Trashy Novel
I saw Marianne at the pool. She was stretched out on
her tummy on one of the recliners reading a paperback
book, and she didn't see me at first, not until my
shadow was practically covering her book. "Hey," I
said. "Hot day, huh? What are you reading?"
"Oh, just a trashy novel," Marianne said. She sat up
quickly and closed the book.
"Ah," I said. "Are you at one of the good parts?"
Marianne blushed.
"Must be a really juicy part," I said.
She blushed all the harder. "No, no," she stammered.
"It's just, you know, a trashy novel."
Walking along the beach I remembered the time I was
eleven or twelve and we were at the lake for the summer
and one day I picked up the paperback which was lying
open but face down on the little table by my mom's bed.
I read quickly. I don't remember the words exactly, but
it was about a man and a woman on a boat or ship
kissing, caressing, making love. I do remember one
sentence: "When she came, it was bright as the sun and
swollen as the sea." Came where? I didn't understand. I
didn't know what "it" could be. Bright as the sun and
swollen as the sea. That didn't make any sense. I tried
to puzzle it out. Probably just a printing mistake. I
asked my mom. "What does this mean? 'When she came, it
was bright as the sun and swollen as the sea'?"
"You shouldn't be reading that," Mom snapped. "It's
just junk." She snatched the book from my hands.
"But you're reading it," I protested.
"Yeah, well I shouldn't be reading it either." She
closed the book and took it out of the room, and I
never saw it again, though a couple of times I hunted
for it.
Walking along the beach I felt a little sad. Maybe I'd
deprived my mom of some innocent pleasure. Well, maybe
not so innocent. I wondered if my mom would read that
stuff and touch herself. Maybe somehow I'd spoiled it
for Marianne, too. I decided to tell Marianne about the
time I'd picked up my mom's trashy novel, but when I
went past the pool on the way back, Marianne wasn't
there. Probably reading in the privacy of her room, I
thought, and I thought of her touching herself as she
read, and when I looked out over the dunes the sea was
swollen and the sun was bright and maybe at that moment
Marianne was making herself come. A couple of seabirds
cried, and that made me smile, but suddenly that's what
I wanted to do, touch myself and make myself come. Only
we didn't have any trashy novels.
=========================================================
August 9, 2002
Spigot
David was helping Melissa with the gardening. Almost a
week now, he still wasn't sure what to call her. Not
Mom. Not Melissa. Not Miss Warner. Nothing seemed
right. "Why don't you hook up the hose?" she asked him.
"Remember, righty tighty, lefty loosey." She pointed to
the spigot on the side of the house and she laughed. A
little sputter of a laugh. David nodded. As David
unrolled the hose and dragged one end towards the
spigot, he remembered something from his freshman year
of high school.
It was after evening swim practice. He was outside the
old brick school, waiting in the back parking lot for
his parents to pick him up. It was cold, maybe ten
degrees, and he huddled into his coat and tightened his
body. It was snowing. It had been snowing for a while,
and some of the snow was starting to stick. David
scooped some of it up and packed it into a snowball and
tossed it against the side of the building. But most of
the snowball disintegrated in the air as it flew. Too
dry. David gather some more snow in his mittens, but
instead of packing it into a snowball he took it to the
water spigot jutting from the bricks a few steps left
of the back door. He wasn't sure he had anything in
mind. Maybe just get it a little damp. Just then a
couple of kids came out. Rick Pike and Rick Swanson,
seniors on the team. Swanson was combing his crew cut,
trying to make the front stand up in a little tuft.
"Whatcha doin?" Pike asked.
At first David thought he was talking to Swanson, so he
didn't answer.
"I said, 'What the fuck are you doing?'"
"Nothing," David said. "Just making snowballs."
"It looks like he's sticking snow up that faucet,"
Swanson said.
"Why would he do a silly ass thing like that?" Pike
asked.
"Probably pretending he's stuffing it up his
girlfriend's cunt."
"Is that what you're doing?" Pike asked.
"No, I ..." David stammered. It was the first time he'd
ever heard anyone say cunt. He wasn't even sure what it
meant. "I ..."
"His girlfriend's awfully cute," Swanson said. "Ginny
Ambrose. I seen her. I seen him walking in the hall
with her one day. Freckles. Sweet little titties.
Snowball sized."
Pike laughed. He had picked up some snow. He was
squeezing it in his bare hands, packing it. "But why
you want to stuff snow in her cunt? That's not very
respectful like," Pike said.
"I didn't ... I ..."
"I'll give you a hint," Pike said. "Righty tighty,
lefty loosey. Always remember that."
"I will," David said.
"Right," Pike said. "Righty tighty. Ginny looks like a
righty to me, doesn't she to you, Swanson? I bet she's
got the tightest little cunt."
"She ..." David said. "I ..." Car lights. His parents.
"Righty tighty," Pike called out as David stepped
towards the car. "You let us know if you want any help
loosening it up."
David slipped into the backseat. As they drove off a
snowball thumped on the roof.
"Friends of yours?" David's dad said.
"Not really," David said. "Just guys on the team."
David had the hose attached to the spigot. He turned on
the water. Tight seal. Nothing dripped. Then Melissa
sprayed him.
=========================================================
Each day Calendar.atEROS presents erotic shorts, each of them complete,
most of them connected, many of them illustrated (as is August 9th, above).
I could use your support. Please consider a subscription.
--Mat Twassel
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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