Funky Gorilla Fist – Chapter 2


DONT FORGET TO READ CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

 

There is this nerve in the back of your belly button that still’s attached to your

bladder, back from the days of its umbilical function. Well, if you get your

thumb in there deep enough, swift and hard enough, if the person’s bladder is full enough, they

will piss themselves. If nothing else, they will feel like they are gonna piss their pants and just out

of sheer instinct, stop in their tracks.”

Jennifer is chasing this 300 lb redneck out of the bar. All 109lbs of her screaming at the

top of her lungs.

“I told you, you dumb son of a bitch, I told you, take a look at that guy over there, now

take a good look at me.”

She pushes him as he tries to make his way to the door.

“I told you, These are two people that you don’t want to fuck with!”

He’s trying to hide it but it is clear that this guy should have emptied his bladder about six

to seven beers ago. His pants are soaked and he is leaving a trail all the way to the door.

At a certain point it seems as though one of the redneck’s, redneck buddies might

possibly be thinking about trying to stop the humiliation, but before the dumbass can even finish

the thought, Chris is up off of his chair at the door , moving towards his girl and her quarry, and

the guy thinks better of it.

The piss pants guy notices this too, and is so startled by the action that he trips over his

own sodden feet and falls flat on his face. Jennifer’s eyes light up as he hits the floor and Chris

grabs her just as she is about to kick the fallen victim.

He picks her up and kisses her as the guy scrambles to get back to his feet.

“That” kiss “son of” kiss “a bitch” kiss “grabbed my” kiss “ASS!”

They are both laughing now as the guy and his buddies slink through the door.

“Do you think you can go one more hour without getting into trouble?”

He puts her down and starts to make his way back to the door with her in tow.

“I’m just fired up now.”

“I know”

“That son of a bitch.”

“I know.”

“Got me so……..ungh!” He sits down and she sidles up to him.

He leans over and whispers in her ear, “Are you wet?”

“You know! ”

“I know”

“Wait till I get you home tonight.”

That was the beginning of the wrecked bedroom night before where we are now. Where

we are now is somewhere even Chris doesn’t want to be.

It is now about 9 a.m. Sunday, the morning after the wrecked bedroom night before. Chris

is going out for doughnuts but there is trouble in the air. Allison’s car is parked in front of

Jennifer’s place.

“Get in the car.”

He gets into the car, preps himself for what’s to come and asks,

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“It’s 9 a.m. Sunday morning.”

She puts the car in drive, peels out of the spot and throws a letter at him. He can see that

she is upset and has been crying already. She begins to cry again as she asks, “What the fuck is

that?”

He knows the letter, he knows every word without looking at it. He wrote it himself about

two weeks ago, but he remembers it like he wrote it yesterday.

Dear Dennis,

Well, I guess you won out in the end. She’s all yours, dude, I’ll back off and

never bother the two of you again. After this.

I just wanted to get a few things off my chest and figured I’d give you a few

things to think about. Now, if you don’t want to know, if you don’t want to think

about these things that I have to say, don’t read this.

I just so happen to believe that a person has a right to full disclosure before

they get ‘in too deep.’ I would, however, understand if you didn’t want this

information, so if so, do not continue to read this.

I wouldn’t read it if I were you, but you might want to so I figured I’d give

you the info, and leave it up to you as to whether or not you read it.

Okay, I guess you want to know so,

I guess I’ll start with the concept of “In Too Deep”, now that’s an interesting

concept. How far is too deep? Was I too deep when my cock was punchin’ her

tonsils? Was I “Too Deep” when I bruised her cervix,

six times?

Was I “Too Deep” when I was so deep in her ass that I got shit on my balls?

There is no place on or in that girl that I haven’t been,

Licked,

Fucked,

Cum on,

or in.

Yeah, by the way, I hear that you are moving into “her” place. Well, where do

you think I did all those things to her? In “her” bed, “her” bathtub, on “her”

toilet, bent over “her” bathroom sink, on the bathroom floor, on top of “her”

dresser, against “her” mirror, on “her” living room floor, on “her” sofas, on

“her” desk chair, bent over “her” desk, on “her” kitchen floor.

There’s not an inch of “her” place that doesn’t have my sweat or cum on it.

There is not a single towel, pillow case, sheet, blanket or t-shirt in that house

that “WE” haven’t used as a cum rag.

But really, I wish you both the best of luck. Try not to think about this too

much and you guys should do just fine. Just whatever you do,

Don’t bring a blacklight into any part of that house.

At least, I wouldn’t if I were you.

Good luck,

Chris

“How could you! How could you send something like that to him!”

She is crying in earnest now and not doing a very good job driving through the tears, but

he doesn’t seem to notice either. He’s lost in his own thoughts

Of course she knew how to find me. I guess, when it comes to some things, I really am a

creature of habit. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, the last Sunday morning I spent with

her….

She is still screaming.

“I can’t believe you!”

She sobs, her mascara running down her face, mixing with the tears, snot, spit and sweat

to pool up as a gray green gob dangling off of her chin.

“.………was the Sunday morning after the Saturday night that I met Jennifer……...”

She wipes the gob from her chin and he gets the image of a garden slug that she is wiping

from her face, and he is brought back to the moment and laughs.

“You son of a bitch, god damn you, you son of a bitch! Why do you hate me so much?”

“.………..and what a night that was.”

“Tell me, why?”

“What did you say?”

“Aren’t you even listening to me? I said, why do you hate me so much?”

“Hate you? Is that what you said, why do I hate you?”

“Yeah”

“What makes you think I hate you?”

“This, that letter, he’s gonna leave me now you know!”

“Well, hate is a pretty strong word.”

“Well, it sure feels like you hate me.”

“Well, I’ve got news for you

I didn’t love you enough then,

to hate you now!”

 

– Anthony Pepe

TWITTER: @AnthonyMFPepe
FACEBOOK: anthonyfpepe
EMAIL: FunkyGorillaFist@hotmail.com