The Sunday Scaries
Volume 1, Number 19
Microfiction by Pat Harrigan
Content Warning: Language and Horror
That Night and the Next Morning
Afterward, she used the bathroom, cleaned herself up, and came back to bed. He was already asleep. She watched him for a few minutes. Had they discussed him staying the night? It was okay, though. He slept weird: flat on his back, arms parallel to his torso. His cock trailed at a diagonal across his left leg. In the morning she supposed it would be stuck to her sheet. Ah, it wouldn’t hurt him. Everything would need to be washed in any case. His chest rose and fell. His body was almost hairless. Did he… wax everything? Was he a swimmer maybe? He was too bulky to be a swimmer, too heavy, she remembered. She considered waking him up, but nah, too tired for another screw.
In the morning she had to piss again. Something uncomfortable down there, nothing serious, she was sure. She brushed her teeth and had to piss again. I’m an old man with a dicky prostate, she thought. She put on a robe and returned to the bedroom. Some sort of smell in here, sour, so she drew the drapes a little and cracked a window. The morning light shone across the bed, thick and white. His body almost gleamed. The sheet rose tall above his groin, like a yurt. At least it wouldn’t take much to get him going again.
She came back to bed. His body was soft; her fingers sank deep into his shoulder like she was kneading dough. She recoiled, pulling her sticky fingers free. She scrambled from the bed. The sheet caught on his cock and stretched it across the bed and down to the floor. From head to foot he was white and soft. The cock-thing slowly retracted from the tangle of sheets and diminished back to a reasonable size. His chest rose up and down with his soundless breathing.
She stayed in the corner watching him for an hour, by which time his body had begun to darken, forming a sort of crust. When she noticed that he had an erection again she decided to leave. On her way to the door he opened his eyes and reached for her but she jerked free, pulling off three of his fingers, which scrabbled like helpless grubs on the hardwood floor.
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