P-214 Campus Gang Bang
Campus Gang Bang
Parisian Press
P-214
John Graves
$2.25
Excerpt
After living in the dorms and eating that food, I’d have moved to a tent So I was pretty glad to take that room. We cooked and ate in common, sharing the work and expenses. Everyone was different enough to be interesting, but not so different that we didn’t get along. We had dogs, cats, a parrot, guinea pigs, and a garden in back in the middle of which grew two rows of Acapulco Gold.
We had parties every Saturday at which sperm and all the natural juices flowed as freely as the wine and beer and grass. We formed a friendly little living group. Everyone tried to treat everyone else like we belonged to the same family. I felt a happy-at-home feeling living here.
Now, I was propped up on pillows on Ronnie’s bed. We were watching the beginning of ’Star Trek’ on the tube. It was eleven P.M. and I felt mellow. I’d done my studying Friday. Ronnie watched the TV through his granny glasses, and occasionally read a little from the history book in his lap.
I heard someone coming up the stairs.
“Shanti, brothers!” Hippie bounced into the room, full of manic energy as usual. His long black hair was held flat against his head by a red bandanna folded into a headband. After his hair passed under the red band, it stuck out horizontally from the sides of his head like great frizzy airplane wings. He wore a tie-dyed long-john underwear shirt and overalls patched with crushed velvet and embroidered flowers. Over his shoulder was a leather purse.
“Hi, Hip,” I said. He was the most outrageous person in the house.
“Hi, Corey!” he said, and with that he leaned over the bed and kissed me full on the lips, putting the tip of his tongue in my mouth. In one hand he balanced dinner leftovers, cold-looking brown rice and vegetables sauced with tarn art He tried to kiss Ron, but Ron shooed him away with a hand and with “Hey, cut that shit, I’m watching ‘Star Trek’!” But Hippie planted a bit wet smack on the back of Ron’s neck anyway.
Then he climbed up on the bed beside me and began to eat his dinner. “When are we going to get off this total vegetarian trip and have some good organic porterhouse steak?” he asked nobody in particular.
“The only meat you’ll ever get,” said Ronnie, “is between your own legs.”
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