Chapter 15: a Fine Selection of Holes

They surrounded me. Oh, how unfair. I'll never get away ... I'm surrounded. Such torture, such agony.

When surrounded by naked redheaded twins it's best to give in and succumb to their demands.

Simone knew exactly how to make me last forever.

"Grab that side, Ship. Lift and slide him onto the deck. Spread his legs ... Ooo too far ... yeah, like that. Let me introduce you to our National Anthem."

Sim wormed her way between my legs. "Now, watch, Ship. There will be a lab and an exam on this." Her nose touched my short and crinklies.

This is from a shy, retiring, scholar who had no clue about the primary use for the throat three days ago.

If I didn't do something pretty damn quick she was going to get my secrets ... like now. Let me see ... three days ago? No. Was it yesterday? Dawn? No. It was two nights ago, at the twilights' last gleaming. No, no. Don't go there ... Stars? Yes, Stars ... BRIGHT stars. Uh huh, it's perilous ... that's what this is, perilous. Through the night? I'll never make it through the night ... Ship is watching and I'm going to be gallantly streaming if I can't think of something besides rockets and bursting ... Oh shit ... Damn, I'm near bursting ... I'm going to salute, salute, salute ... what? Oh the flag ... The flag? oh yes ... it's still there ... uhh ... uhh ... uhh..."Oh Good GAWDDAMN, Simone. That's Amazing!"

"See, Ship? Men are so easy! Now you try."

"No! NOT YET! Oh shit," I cried, "Simone? Ship has no gag reflex!!"

No matter what, I am NOT a teenager. I cannot get it back up that quick ... I tell a lie! I'm up!

Ship has a rippling throat ... I'm being milked! What the hell is she humming? It sounds like ... No! It can't be ... Not the 1812 Overture ... There's sixteen cannon shots written into the score of the Overture. I'll never make it! Hairy ... you need to DO something and quick!! You'll be a husk ... Tchaikovsky! You bastard!

"Simone?" I panted. "Help."

She sat on my face.

"That'll shut him up ... uuuhn. Now Spell!"

"What? Spell?" I mumbled.

"That works too." Simone groaned. "Try spelling cat with that marvelous tongue. Dog ... Dick ... Jane.

See Dick dick Jane. Oh See the dog run. Oh See. Oh See ... The alphabet! Cursive! Caps! Lower Case! Antidisestablishmentarianism! You spelled that wrong ... try again. Diphenolchloroxyinal ... nope do it again! You need to get it right! X!X!X! " Simone started to sway. She moaned, "X-- is-- my-- fa--vor--ite." Her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell forward on top of Ship ... Ship took me to the root, I took it to the top.