Minesweeper magazine ~ Issue 4 ~ summer 2015

the experience. I'd fucked her like she asked, lying down on top of her beneath a canopy of electric stars, unfettered by her proclamation that she was on her period, exerting bto ejaculation despite my broken ribs and crippling liver pain.

Afterwards, she'd sucked in futility upon my flacid cock, hungrily trying to coax it back into action. Perhaps I deserved no less than her disdain, yet I still believed such acts meant something.

And so what if they didn't? Hadn't I returned excited and elated with bottles of shoplifting beer to find my lover in bed with another? What did any such brutish and base acts as fucking mean between strangers? I was no better and the ones I desired no worse. We were nowt but meatpuppets jigging on the strings of our desires. Yet – Mierda found a way into me through that gluttonous shite. But to this moment I still scarce believe it.