Mushrooms from Outer Space (With a Side of Pepperoni)
It was far fuckin' out.
Of course, Apple Annie was missing it as usual, having long ago gone inside to burn her incense and chant her incessant mantra.
But not Billy Deerfriend. No siree Bob. He was lying out here under the stars enjoying the show. The clouds had finally cleared and the best Leonid meteor shower in three decades was in full bloom.
Billy took another deep hit off his joint. There must be a thousand of them coming down an hour now, just like that manicured weather dude on TV said there would be.
Some weather. Rocks falling from outer space right onto your doorstep. Another one of Billy's patented shit-eating grins came over his face, as the weed permeated his brain, shutting down those troublesome higher centers once again. Those centers seemed to be reviving with alarming frequency between tokes lately. Billy was beginning to think that Captain Happy might be starting to step on the dope he was selling Billy. The weed did seem to exude a troubling aroma reminiscent of eau de oregano. Billy thought he might be better off putting it on his salad than into his brain. He was going to have to confront Captain Happy about this. Either that or look for a different connection.
But those troubling higher centers were basically all shut down now, and Billy felt that he was communing with those shooting stars from outer space, that he was reading their thoughts and they were reading his. He sent out a mental greeting to his asteroid friends and felt a warm glow as his greeting was returned in kind. Right on your damn doorstep, he thought. Wouldn't that be the cat's pajamas. Even better yet right into your skull, man. There would be no troubling signals from his brain's higher centers then. No siree Bob.
Suddenly one of the shooting stars seemed to turn in Billy's direction.
"Far out," Billy whispered in appreciation to the night sky.
The meteor grew even brighter.
"Far out," Billy reiterated, his verbal capacity, never large to begin with, further diminished by the weed.
Unlike Billy, the meteor grew brighter and brighter. Somewhere deep in Billy's limbic system, a primal brain center finally activated. Suddenly Billy knew where his meteor pal was headed.
"Oh shit!" said Billy in a rare moment of enlightenment. He rolled quickly to his right as the scream of the meteor finally reached his ears. There was a tremendous crash to his left, at the approximate location that his head had just occupied. A spray of dirt and turf clumps covered Billy's face and chest.
Billy slowly rose to his feet and crawled to the small crater in the lawn where he had just been lying. Smoke and steam were still rising from the ground. Billy looked at the glowing rock that lay in the middle of the crater. It seemed somehow alive. He thought he could see things moving in its pores. The rock seemed to send out a mental greeting that warmed his brain, once again happily suppressing those nasty higher centers.
"Far out," said Billy, and reached down to lift his new friend from outer space out of the hole it had dug for itself. He was rewarded with an intense pain and the smell of burning flesh as the two thousand degree heat of the rock incinerated the flesh on the palms of his hands.
"Oh shit," Billy said.
Later they sat as usual on the kitchen floor, both naked as the day they were born, a candle burning beside them. Apple Annie sat in full lotus position, Billy with his legs and ankles crossed. Beside them, the meteorite still steamed in the wheelbarrow they had used to drag it into the house.
Also as usual, Apple Annie had Billy's throbbing shaft firmly grasped in her right hand, squeezing it while she traced the fingernails of her left hand up and down its length. Billy sighed helplessly as her left hand reached down to grasp his balls firmly, squeezing them alternately in turn as her right hand began to pump his stiff organ mercilessly.
"I want to test your control tonight, Billy," she said in the pseudo-spiritual whispering voice she saved for such occasions. "I want you to take my breasts in your hands while I try to milk you tonight. Don't disappoint me, Billy. We are never going to get to the next step if you don't progress."
Obediently, Billy reached out to seize both of Apple Annie's firm and magnificent globes with his bandaged hands. His palms ached at the touch of her flesh, but he slavishly began to knead her tits with his relatively unscorched fingertips as best he could.
In the meantime, Apple Annie leaned forward to take Billy's earlobe in her mouth. She tugged it back and forth and then ran her tongue around the inner workings of his ear, all the while pumping his stiff organ harder and harder with her right hand and squeezing his balls brutally with her left.
"Remember, Billy, the secret to tantra is control. If you want to progress to the next step, to have your lingam in my yoni, you must exercise complete control."
Billy's cock was throbbing now and his balls, squeezed ever more tightly in Apple Annie's teasing hands, aching for release. He did not know how much longer he could hold out.
Despite his best effort, Billy felt a drop of precum emerge from the tip of his shaft. It was immediately detected by Apple Annie's right thumb, which was rubbing its way back and forth over the offending opening in Billy's tool, monitoring him for the first signs of a spiritual transgression.
She immediately withdrew both her hands from Billy's genitals and her tongue from his ear, then held her right thumb in front of his face so that he could witness the offending drop for himself.
"I am very disappointed, Billy. I thought you were progressing faster than this," she told him harshly. She rose and stormed from the room, her naked butt swaying tauntingly back and forth as she climbed the stairs.
Billy's balls ached and his pulsing organ throbbed, pleading for full release.
Suddenly, Billy heard a high-pitched voice somewhere to his right say, "Eat me."
"Excuse me," Billy said, turning his head to the right. He saw a small group of mushroom-like fungi standing next to the meteorite, apparently growing directly from the metal of the wheelbarrow.
One of the mushrooms opened a tiny little mouth. "I said, 'Eat me!'" it yelled in a tiny little voice.
Billy was reminded of
Alice in Wonderland
and the dangers inherent in eating things that invited you to do so.
"What did you say?" he asked incredulously.
Suddenly, the mushroom was transformed into the fictional redhead that was the perpetual subject of Billy's masturbatory fantasies.
She rose from the wheelbarrow, her firm breasts jutting out, her finely defined calf and thigh muscles flexing as she stepped down from the wheelbarrow. She lay down on the kitchen floor and spread her legs, splaying herself wide open for Billy's entertainment and enlightenment.
"What part of 'eat me' don't you understand?" she asked him.
Billy thought he got it now. She was like that mushroom-induced hallucinatory god Mescalito who was the subject of that renegade anthropologist Carlos Castaneda's Don Juan tetralogy. Billy knew a little something about anthropology, having spent two months as preanthropology major over at Clearwater Community College before that bastard Professor Thornstein had failed him on the third retake of the first hour exam, forcing Billy into his present career as a Delivery Associate at Pizza King. Billy thought he knew a few things about hallucinations, too. And at this point, there was little about the phrase "eat me" that he didn't understand given the present context.
He crawled over to his masturbatory fantasy made flesh, dragging his still-throbbing genitals along the tiles of the kitchen floor until he reached the object of his masticatory desire. He took her mound in his mouth without hesitation, as she reached down to grab the sides of his head, shoving his mouth more tightly against her crotch.
She swung her hips up over him to ride his face, grinding her mound into him as he eagerly lapped her cunt. That cunt was so sweet and so warm and so wet and tasted so delicious (dare he say mushroomy?) in his deprived state, that he began to eat it as if there were no tomorrow.
The girl began to rock on his face as he tongued her, lapped her, sucked her and chewed her for all she was worth. She came several times, gushing a pungent fluid all over his face before she lowered herself on him.
Billy could feel the protruding erect nipples of her breasts as they contacted his lower abdomen, sending an electric thrill running through his body.
Then she took Billy into her mouth and began to suck him as he had never been sucked before. Her hunger seemed insatiable, and her mouth strangely talented. It was as though she had two or three tongues, each one capable of independent and very rapid movement. And each one very skilled and thoughtful in what it did. And her mouth seemed impossibly long as she took in Billy's full length and then kept it in without even gagging once. The walls of that mouth seemed to adjust to the exact size of Billy's prick, squeezing it and caressing it alternately as he began to fuck the redhead's sweet mouth for all it was worth. And after Apple Annie's torture, it was worth a great deal.
The mouth and tongues continued to milk him as the girl began to grind her cunt into his mouth even more vigorously. She seized his balls in her hand, using them as a makeshift saddle horn while she rode him like a wild cowgirl. Billy, who began the encounter with a prick already throbbing from Apple Annie's masochistic religious ritual, could hold back no longer. He felt the pressure building in his balls, which were being cruelly squeezed in the redhead's hands. He felt the jism shoot out of him, the redhead's supernatural mouth sucking every drop of fluid from his balls. He bit down on her clitoris in appreciation, but soon found that his mouth held only...
