A Horrifying Story

I went into one of those freaky massage parlors with the mirror glas storefront windows. You know the type. You do right? The ones for fuckin'. So, I went into one to get some... well, whatever it is guys get when they go in to get some. I was all about that.

Well, the wisened old crone at the desk took one look at me and proclaimed, "Ah! I know why you're here! I have just what you want!"

"Look, you old bitch," I said, "You can't possibly have what I want. You're old and dusty. I'm not even sure you're a woman!"

"Not me!" she said, shaking her head, "In that room is," she paused and snapped her fingers to get my attention again. I had become distracted by the shiny reflection in my penny loafers again. I'm sure you all know how much effort it takes to make them really shiny, and how good it feels when you've got them just perfect, right? "In that room is a sexual entity so powerful that no man or woman can resist it!"

"Satan?" I asked.

"No," she said. "For four hundred dollars you may enter if you think you are sex enough to survive." I paid my four hundred dollars and entered.

The room was dim, and behind a silk veil I saw a shadow writhing. I was rock. Instant rock. I dashed forward, my pants barely containing my manly impulse. I tore down the screen and...














HELLO!

That's my boy right there.