by Kyle Hemmings
Of all the nursing assistants, she was the friendliest and had the biggest. She was from the islands, which one I don't know. Her voice was musical, this happy/sad quality. Over breaks, she complained about the low pay, how she just turned 37, the shortage of good men. Over time, her uniforms became tighter and shorter. One night, we negotiated money, and she gave me a blow job in the housekeeping closet. Her lips, sliding back and forth, mimicked, at least to me, the sound of a mophead swishing the floor. Even though the lights were out, I'd warn her when I was about to come, so I could aim it in the mop bucket. Her supervisor now walked up and down the floor, calling her name, "Matilda. Matilda, you're needed in room 106." After we finished, she creaked the door open, and left, first. The light hurt my eyes. Later, she was fired for having sex with the janitor in an empty patient's room. What's worse, I found out she was close to 58. From that time on, I had this queasy feeling whenever I smelled ammonia.
Showing posts with label Kyle Hemmings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kyle Hemmings. Show all posts
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Quality Time
by Kyle Hemmings
It was somewhere during the middle of the day and in a porn theater around midtown. I should have been volunteering for some overtime at the post office. The guy, two rows in front of me, whose face I never did see, was masturbating with such a ferocity, that it sounded like a piston or maybe a car about to break down. Some of the customers turned their heads from the movie towards him as if to say Do you have to be so loud, asshole? On screen, a blonde haired vixen, with a pimple below one ass cheek, was kneeling in a field of daisies and wild horses. Her butt was to this guy with a shaft the length of Pinochio's nose after about 16 outrageous lies. "Let's do it like the horses do," she said with this Southern twang, thick as melted chocolate. Behind me, somebody yelled out, "Make her squeal like a pig." She reminded me of this girl I used to date, one who invented incredible versions of the past and stole a couple of my best watches. On screen, the two of them tried to outdo each other as if in a screeching contest, finished, and fell over. The camera closed in on a chestnut mustang running. The guy two rows up groaned, then left the theater. The lights went on, but nobody moved.
Kyle Hemmings lives and works in New Jersey, where he still attempts skateboarding and continues to fall. The strangest place he ever masturbated was in a bathroom at someone's funeral. The one thing he did this week that he is proud of: he complimented a 90 year old woman on her complexion.
It was somewhere during the middle of the day and in a porn theater around midtown. I should have been volunteering for some overtime at the post office. The guy, two rows in front of me, whose face I never did see, was masturbating with such a ferocity, that it sounded like a piston or maybe a car about to break down. Some of the customers turned their heads from the movie towards him as if to say Do you have to be so loud, asshole? On screen, a blonde haired vixen, with a pimple below one ass cheek, was kneeling in a field of daisies and wild horses. Her butt was to this guy with a shaft the length of Pinochio's nose after about 16 outrageous lies. "Let's do it like the horses do," she said with this Southern twang, thick as melted chocolate. Behind me, somebody yelled out, "Make her squeal like a pig." She reminded me of this girl I used to date, one who invented incredible versions of the past and stole a couple of my best watches. On screen, the two of them tried to outdo each other as if in a screeching contest, finished, and fell over. The camera closed in on a chestnut mustang running. The guy two rows up groaned, then left the theater. The lights went on, but nobody moved.
Kyle Hemmings lives and works in New Jersey, where he still attempts skateboarding and continues to fall. The strangest place he ever masturbated was in a bathroom at someone's funeral. The one thing he did this week that he is proud of: he complimented a 90 year old woman on her complexion.
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