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CAKE
At the end of summer house party, the game is called “Cake is Pussy.” The contestants are whoever was chosen by Cheap Rick, the porn producer. It’s mostly guys, mostly in their thirties or forties, a few in their 20s, but those guys look like they could be forty already. Everybody looks a little unshaven, a little bit like they woke up hungover yesterday and have not fully gotten it out of their system today. The youngest person there is Dennis, a nineteen-year-old incoming sophomore at college in Carbondale. He’s dressed like a half-cliché of cultural appropriation; backwards baseball cap, crew cut, gold necklace. The other half of his attire is a little unusual for his age – a shiny felt vest, a white dress shirt, a black pair of pants with an expensive belt, Doc Martins. These are all items he bought on credit, since he’s stopped making videos for Cheap Rick – who they don’t call cheap for no reason. He faces the cake with a smirk on his face. He knows he will be a contestant because Rick already told him.
Dennis thought it would be a chocolate cake but it’s actually a carrot cake (which is a little pervy, somehow). Rick sprays whipped cream on top. This has got to be as over the top as possible. On the other side of the cake is some balding dude with glasses. The dude takes off his glasses, hands them to his twenty-something African American girlfriend beside him. She drops them. She pretends that it’s an accident, but Dennis can see from the gloominess of her face that it certainly was not. He smiles at her. She sees that he’s on to her and her eyes widen, and she turns away. Dennis knows who the winner will be.
“All right, all right,” says Rick, as if he’s Matthew McConaughey. Everybody else in the room starts to quiet down. “Dennis versus George, everybody. Man the best pussy-eater win. Three, two, one. Eat it!”
The two men go to the cake. George dives in, moving his head side to side, pushing the whipped cream out to each side in balloons. Dennis just sticks out his tongue and flicks it around the surface of the whipped cream. He laps it up quickly but fairly carefully, until he’s made a path to the frosting. He flicks his tongue across the frosting. George pulls away for a moment, spitting out multiple pieces of cake. He sees what Dennis is doing and tries to backtrack. Eases up on his attack a little. His girlfriend takes two calculated steps back. Laughs with a nervous expression grin, and some of the guys laugh along with her.
Dennis does a long tongue-lap across the frosting and pushes his forehead through the whipped cream. He clears the frosting from the top of the cake’s body, creating an area of pure carrot-flavored filling about the size of a large slice. He keeps licking and chunks of cake spit out around him. He’s pushing further towards the center of the cake. So it George, with his nose.
“Yo George, let me get my book on female anatomy for you,” Dennis says, looking up. He smiles and the crowd goes oooohhhhh and laughter ensues.
George looks genuinely destroyed. His girlfriend does not quite know what to do except glance at Dennis, whose face is back in the cake. But his eyeballs are curling upwards, glancing back at her.
A male voice mutters,
“Who the fuck is this kid?”
The cake begins to tilt and collapse. Dennis shifts to the left and laps up more frosting, whipped cream, and filling. George whips his head in the other direction. The problem is, he pivots his body, too. George falls over. Face stuffed with white cream and brown crumbs, to the floor. Dennis lurches forward to the center of the cake and gobbles up quite a bit more. The applause has İstanbul Escort already begun. Dennis spears out of the center of the cake, whipped cream and frosting flaking off his buzzcut dome, face puffed up in a tangled mass of brown, off-white and snow white. He stands triumphant. Rick holds one of his arms up.
“We have a winner!’ Rick announces. Grins beneath his silly mustache.
George wipes his face. Opens his eyes and sees Dennis and Rick standing over him. Rick leans in and mutters,
“Sorry, George.”
Dennis wipes a delectable combination from both his eyes. Looks around and finds the face of George’s girlfriend. Extends his fingers to her.
“Want some?” He asks.
She shakes her head at first. Reconsiders. Leans in like she’s pecking someone on the cheek and sucks the cream off.
Her name, by the way, is Karissa. She is twenty-seven years old. She’s a paralegal.
Hours later, her lips are not pursed around Dennis’ fingers, but open, two of his fingers pulling back at her lower lip as she arches back on her flower-patterned pillow and lets out a sound somewhere between a gasp of surprise and an animal yelp.
Her thighs flutter and buck around Dennis’ head. He clamps his hands on the other side of both her thighs and holds them right there as he rotates his head in swirls, giving himself a lava-paced tour. Karissa’s ankles bounce off his flexed shoulders.
Dennis at last withdraws and sits up. He takes his bowl of pot and his lighter from the bedside table and lights a toke. The burning ember is the only color Karissa can see in the dark of the room. Dennis offers her the weed.
“No thanks,” she says and closes her eyes.
Dennis rests his head on her breasts. She can feel the wetness on his cheek dampen her skin. They lie like that for a bit. Then Dennis moves upward and kisses her cheek. She smells herself on him and wishes he’d wash his face. He murmurs in her ear,
“After we have sex, will you give me a ride back to my dorm?”
It’s a few days later. The birds are chirping. Students are hauling progressively larger loads of textbooks across the campus green. Splotches of various liquids are starting to appear on the sidewalks and in the parking lots outside dorm buildings. And then there’s Anna. Her mouth is open. Her head is raised just slightly from the pillow, looking down her below her breasts. She’s pushing breaths out of her mouth one after the other. The breath-pushing culminates in this incoming freshman jerking backward and going,
“Oh!”
Before falling flat on her back again.
Dennis takes a moment to rise up from under the bedsheets. He wipes under his nose with the back of his hand and looks at the girl he was just getting to know on a different level. Her eyes are closed and her expression is the peace that follows bloodrush.
“Hi.” This is her waking word.
Dennis kisses her.
“Oh my fucking God, I smell myself,” Anna says. It makes her genuinely insecure to smell her sweat combined with other fluids just brought forth by this strange boy’s tongue.
“Your turn,” says Dennis. He rolls on his back. Picks up the joint they were smoking. Re-lights it and takes three successively faster puffs. The confident way he does it is kind of silly and kind of sexy, Anna admits to herself.
Now she tells herself it’s okay, she can do it. She should do it. The last guy she was with, late senior year, was too scared to do what Dennis just did.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Anna says, thinking it sounds stupid to put it that way.
Dennis has put his phone down. He’s looking right into her eyes with a most sincere expression.
“You’re Escort Bayan cute,” he says. “You’re nervous and it’s cute. Just being honest.”
Anna stops.
“Just trying to make you less nervous, too.”
She unbuckles his pants.
“Hey, Anna. Let me help you with this,” he says. “I’ll talk to you while you do it. I’ll tell you a story. It will make it fun for you, too. You’re a creative writer. You can savage my storytelling skills after.”
Anna thinks this sounds a little weird, but quite unique. She’s interested. She shrugs and finishes removing Dennis’ pants. His boner juts straight out of his boxer briefs, giving her pause again. Dennis is patient. She removes his boxers. Cups his long erection in one hand. She opens her mouth in an O and places it around him.
She wonders, as she moves her mouth up and down and feels his head knobbing the top of her mouth, when he’ll start talking. He touches her hair and finally does.
“Her name’s Karissa,” he says. “She’s this twenty-seven-year-old woman. A real, grown-ass woman, I mean. A little more mature than you. I met her at my buddy’s get together this past weekend. Took her away from her boyfriend. Like Tupac said, now I’ve always gotta worry about the payback.”
Dennis laughs. Anna feels like he wants her to suck faster. She gives it her best try.
“Her labia was big and marshy and purple. I guess purple lips are a thing with black girls, I dunno, she’s my first black girl, but that’s what it says on the Internet. You should have seen her shudder. You could take a tip from how not afraid she was to use her thighs. Fucking almost strangled me when she came. This was in her apartment. Just a tiny apartment that I think she’s having a hard time paying rent on. I had just won some money, but wasn’t about to help her out in that way. I did fuck her brains out though. After the cunnilingus, after making sure she’d give me a ride back to campus.”
Anna is not quite sure what to make of this story. Is he for real? Is this a fantasy? Is he trying to inspire her with his writing? Another side of her likes it and makes her move her tongue around his shaft.
“Karissa bonked her head at the end of it all,” Dennis laughs as he tells it.
“She went, OH! – just like you just sounded like, but in a more experienced tone of voice – and I heard this BONK. She’d hit her head on the bedframe. It cracked us up. She spent the rest of the night rubbing her head, even while driving me back. We met up again yesterday and she said her head felt better, and she let me hit it raw this time. You and I don’t have to have sex yet, but when we do, that’s how we should do it. It’s safer than you’re led to believe.”
Anna can’t quite believe he said that and decides that’s enough. She tries lifting her head and Dennis pushes her back down with his hand, throttling her throat with his cock, pushing her face into his dark and curly pubes.
“To the guy, feels like masturbating with a bunch of egg yolks. Except better. I dunno what it feels like for you ladies. But from what I’ve observed, y’all also dig it.”
He holds her head for a moment and breathes.
“Look at me.”
Anna isn’t sure how literally to take this command when Dennis pushes her forehead upward just enough for her eyes to be trained on his ribcage, which looks halfway between famished and worked-out.
“Come on. Look at ME. You can do it. Roll those gorgeous eyeballs upward. If I can do it while licking your pussy, you can do it right now for me. Roll ’em.”
Anna strains to roll her eyeballs upward. She sees Dennis looking down at her. An unattainable expression Eskort on his face.
“Just so you know Anna, right now you’re blowing a sex addict. I fucked way too many girls last year. Like forty-ish. It got painful for me to go for two or three days without getting my dick wet. Then it got, maybe no painful, but somewhat uncomfortable to walk around campus with my dick aching from fucking two chicks in the span of a night and sticking to my boxers, and me passing by girls on the way to class and being like, ‘fucked her on my friend’s couch.’ ‘Raw dogged her in front of her boyfriend.’ ‘Got trashed and ate her out, but don’t even remember doing it.’ When these girls see me, if they remember, they get this wide eyed look and their earbuds pop out of their iPhones – they always have ear buds in their ears, always plugged into iPhones -but I’m like, ‘I see that smile, yo, don’t you pretend nothing, I see it!’ Basically I turn into a poor and semi-literate aunt. Or they just stop and look at me for a second like, ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ “
Dennis sigh-chuckles. He lets go of Anna’s forehead. Her eyes crunch up against his pubic hairs. She can feel him sucking in air, trying to hold something in. His voice takes on a crammed-in quality:
“In any case, I maybe wouldn’t blow me anymore if you don’t want to risk tasting vagina. Or maybe you don’t mind the taste. Maybe you’re not even straight, your bi, and you’re familiar with it already. I’m down with any of those things. But only if you are. And no, I haven’t told Karissa about any of this. She’s blind to the real me. I like you, so I want to be honest with you, and keep things going with you, and keep everything on the table. I don’t have any diseases and I don’t think I got anybody pregnant. But I’m also too far gone to go back. And I see how smart you are…I see you…realizing this…”
She feels warm liquid splurge into her mouth. Rain down from her jaw. Anna writhes and Dennis lifts his hand. She pulls away. Warm semen continues to splatter her face until she sits up all the way.
Dennis notices.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. He looks around for the tissue box and tears out a few. He hands them to her.
“Also, don’t worry. That was all a fantasy,” he says. “I would never be able to get in the pants of a twenty-seven year old African-American chick even if my life depended on it. Women like that don’t play games. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I like you too much.”
Anna finishes wiping off her face. She did the best she could.
“That’s um…some fantasy,” she says. She tries to smile.
Dennis looks like it’s a serious question to ponder.
“For better and for worse, right?” He shrugs and laughs.
Anna excuses herself to the bathroom. In the shower, she walks in circles, trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened. Still in the shower, she hears the front door open and close.
Even by his standards, Dennis admits to himself, walking back to his dorm, that was a little bonkers. He responds to a text from his dad, saying there won’t be any more money this month because he’s poor and still has to pay off his legal fees with K whatever. He won his prize money from the cake contest and knows he doesn’t need it. He sees a text from his sister that includes a link to a program for college students dealing with addiction that might be good for him. It just makes him want to buy some more weed, barge into his friend Cam’s apartment and steal some his booze, and score some coke this time, as well. And have some actual sex – that too. So he opens up a new text to Karissa. He has only typed Hey gir when he trips and falls. He’ll never know what he tripped on. He never bothers to look. His mouth is cut and he tastes blood and dirt. It stomps out all the other tastes in his mouth. Just blood and dirt. Dennis tries to spit, but it’s tough. He lies there, waiting for someone to rescue him.
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