"OF VICE AND MAN"
I find it rather amusing how vices work. It brings to mind
the man who chewed gums in order to liberate himself from
cigarette smoking - only to find himself hooked on the nasty
habit of chewing gums and eating mercilessly. I rather
think that man is an animal of vice. If it's not this, then
it's another.
With me, it has always been the other. For fifteen
years, I harboured this vice. By then, I was past hope of
ever giving it up. Certainly, I wanted to put an end to it
- turn over a new leaf, make a new start, as people are so
fond of saying. But everyday I felt less inclined to stop.
Apart from this vice, I consider myself a respectably
virtuous man. I had even been an ideal husband. I have no
appetite for drinking. Smoking holds no attraction for me.
Drugs are out of the question. I did not even chase women
(or men, for that matter) behind Grace's back. I am also
respectably employed as senior bookkeeper at Thompson&Co
where I have been working for sixteen years. Hence, there I
am - the epitome of respectability itself.
The vice did not begin carelessly. Like when one
acquires the habit of smoking pot - usually inaugurated one
night over a couple of drinks between friends.
A strange obsession haunted me since I was in high
school. And I had often pondered if I should allow any such
action on my part to take place.
I was brought up in the paranoid, Catholic manner where
my father bowed to my mother. And she in turn ruled our
little church. Prayers and bible readings were strictly
held at certain hours daily. To shield the embarassing and
shaming lifestyle from my colleagues, I kept mostly to
myself. Until I met Grace at the university fifteen years
ago and whom I married six months later.
But despite God's voice (not to mention Mother's) in my
head, I found myself watching endlessly girls in my classes
and women - strangers in the street or Mother's
acquaintances. It made no difference.
For me, they held such maddening attraction. I lusted
for their breasts, strapped up in brassieres or bouncing
inside blatant shirts. I imagined their legs, long and lean
or bulging with cellulite, wrapped around my hips. And that
sneer in the pudendum area, which they try so hard to hide,
reached out to me. I wanted to break it. Make it scream in
pain. On such moments, I am urged to jump in front of them
and reveal myself. Unsettle and petrify them. Have their
painted fingers flutter to their throat in shock. Make
their eyes widen in alarm.
Of course, I never did. That wasn't the way I am.
Then one day everything seemed to fall into place. I
was at work, seated behind my desk, when it occurred to me.
I suppose that another one of those episodes with Grace
the night before also tipped the scales to my decision. She
had always been a hysterical woman - a fact I was too blind
to notice, but after one year of marriage, found rather
taxing to my patience.
'What now? You're going to bed?' she exclaimed. 'Just
like that?'
'I'm tired, darling,' I sighed, piling the plates into
the sink. `Don't bother with the dishes. I'll wash up
tomorrow.'
'Tired of sitting on your bum all day, you mean?' her
painted face sneered at me. Looking at her, I wondered how
I ever found her beautiful.
'Grace, let's not start again,' I pushed past her and
into the bathroom. I closed the door behind.
'We haven't had sex in ages! What's wrong? Are you
having an affair?!!' she screamed.
An affair? For the love of God, what sort of accusation
is that? I wasn't the one who had indulged in adultery
before marriage and even had the audacity to lie about it!
I opened the door. `For heaven's sake, try to keep your
voice down, darling. All the neighbors will know!'
She followed me as I brushed past her. 'What the fuck
should I care if they know! I want to know why the fuck
you're not fucking me any more!!'
Entering the bedroom, I sat on the mattress and rubbed
my foot. Without looking at her, I said, 'Good grief. Do
mind your language, Grace. Obscenities are so unbecoming in
woman.'
'Oh, yeah? Well, fuck the uneducated. And fuck you,
you impotent little asshole! You can't even get it up, can
you?'
I slipped into the mattress and replied evenly,
`According to Dr. Esthers, as you well know, impotence is
quite normal in men. Goodnight, Grace.'
She continued to scream more obscenities, but I fell
asleep almost immediately. By then neither she nor her
screams and sexual demands roused me.
Hence, on April 25 - exactly fifteen years ago - at
precisely half-past one in the afternoon, I acted upon what
I have have longed secretly to do. My work sheets and
records were spread complacently before me. It was
lunchtime. And there was no hurry. No hurry at all.
Through the years, I've come to look forward to these
moments - when there was nothing else to look forward to at
work or at home. Even when Grace and I divorced each other
after an infernal year of marriage - to me it was just like
any ordinary day. Just another lovely day to spend in
self-indulgence.
This indulgence, lasting for just a few minutes - maybe
even seconds - always left me with a strange high for the
rest of the day.
I picked up the phone. And dialed a number.
'Hello?'
Oh good, I thought. Her voice was soft, almost
languorous. I lusted to hear that covered gasp of shock
upon hearing my voice.
'Hello, darling,' I breathed. 'Have you washed your
pussy yet?'
Silence. She was waiting. She hadn't yet slammed down
the phone. She was a calm one. Not even a gasp. I was
rather disappointed.
'Have you washed it yet? I want to eat you now. Are
you ready? I want to shove this tongue into your cunt and
fuck you till you scream.'
She gave a gasp now. It shivered deliciously over my
body. I found myself getting hard and touched myself.
Breathing heavily, I continued, 'I want to suck your
clit till you hurt. You want that, don't you?'
She moaned.
I almost dropped the receiver - this was not as I had
reckoned. But I continued, 'I want your pussy. Are you
ready, bitch? I'll rip off that panty in a sec.'
She was moaning harder. I could even hear her rubbing
herself. 'Yes... yes, please... yes!! Fuck me! Fuck me
with your tongue! I want it up my ass!'
This time I dropped the phone. What is this?!! The
bitch was supposed to slam down the receiver, maybe scream
some obscenities. But not this.
Disgusting slut. She reminded me of Grace. I
remembered the first time she made me penetrate her anus. I
never knew such revulsion.
My hard on wilted suddenly. And I felt indignation
waxing in me.
With trembling fingers, I retrieved the receiver. With
as much Catholic dignity as I could muster, I screamed, 'You
whore!'
I banged down the phone.
My hands were shaking tremendously. I felt sick to the
stomach. The sight of the phone repulsed me. I had to get
out of the office.
'Hey! Mr Plumm, is everything ok?'
I almost collided with the fool. My mind flailed about
for reason, 'Out. I don't feel too well. Must have been
that salmon I had this morning.... Uh, have you got a
cigarette, Dave?'
'Sure,' he offered me one, looking at me strangely.
`Didn't know you smoke.'
'Oh... well, I stopped,' I lied through clenched teeth.
`The wife, you understand. But every now and then I give
in.'
Dave chuckled and shook his head. I quickly left.
I hid inside one of the cubicles on the washroom. My
heart pounded in my head. It was then that it overwhelmed
me. This sudden need to do something - just to soothe the
nerves and my revulsion.
I clenched the cigarette in my hand. Why I even asked
for one was beyond my comprehension! But lying there so
languorously, it beckoned me to taste it.
Unfortunately, non-smoker that I was, I found myself
ill-equipped to deal with the situation. I did not have a
lighter.
The more I stared at the cigarette on my palm, the more
the need grew. It seemed the perfect lady. It lay there
contentedly without demand anything.
'Fuck me... fuck me! Nooo... not there... here!' I
remembered Grace moaning face down on the bed, her ass
leering at me. 'Lick me there... now!'
At length, I ripped it off half the cigarette with my
teeth, chewing voraciously. Almost angrily. I thought of
the whore over the phone and of Grace. I imagined it was
their cunts I had ripped off and was grinding deliciously
with my molars. Then maybe they'll learn what the those
were for!
It wasn't that bad. I swallowed the damp shreds and
shoved the rest of the cigarette in my mouth. I chewed more
thoughtfully this time.
'Ooooh, did you see that?' It was a woman's voice.
Startled, I peered from the spaces between the cubicle
walls. Worst luck. In my panic, I had entered the wrong
washroom.
'Really gross! How could she wear such a tight dress
over all that fat? Some people are just too gross!'
The blond woman was washing her hands and the other was
in the cubicle next to mine. She had her skirt pulled down.
I could see her bum thorugh the slit. I wanted to break
down the makeshift wall between our cubicles.
I wanted to hear her screaming as I bite her cunt before
shoving my penis inside. You call this impotent, bitch?
Yes, not bad at all. I swallowed the rest of the
tobacco.
I sighed almost blissfully, resting a cheek against the
wall of the cubicle. It was much better that handling the
phone. And this didn't demand anything from me - like the
whores did. The thought of the phone revolted me now.
Watching her ass and the dark curve in-between as she raised
it, I craved for another cigarette.
I touched myself and realised I was hard again.