The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

93
when... Hey. What are you doing?”
Heather didn’t look away from her watch. She popped a
gum bubble and said, “I’m taking his pulse. You were in the
way, and this thing is throbbing.”
Brad chuckled. Heather looked at him. She smiled, and
then she began to giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh, and
she laughed so hard that one of her feet slipped in the mess
on the floor. She leaned backward, then she slipped again
and leaned forward. Then back again, then forward. Back
and forth, slipping, while she held onto Grady’s prick.
And Grady could feel the familiar old itch in some part of
his brain that hadn’t been replaced by gauze--the itch of an
approaching orgasm.
“Heather, you are nasty,” Brad said, and he stood up. He
was still hard. Heather let go of Grady’s prick and grabbed
Brad’s. She began jerking him off.
“Noooooo!” Grady thought. Heather, still squatting,
turned toward Brad, and as she did Grady could see between
her legs to her beautiful golden bush. “Please finish taking
my pulse,” he thought. “I only need a couple more strokes.”
But Heather had forgotten about him. She dropped one
knee to the floor as Brad took a step back, out of Grady’s field
of view.
“We need to hurry,” Brad said, and Heather removed the
gum from her mouth. She stuck it on Grady’s chin and leaned
forward so he couldn’t see what was going on up above. He
heard a gobbling sound.
“Oh, yeah,” Brad said. Heather began rocking back and
forth gently. Brad moaned with pleasure.
Grady looked down and saw, beyond the wad of gum on
his chin, that he was still hard. He wanted to cry.
Heather dropped her other knee to the floor, and as she
did Grady saw it mash the piece of brain he’d noticed earlier.
He wondered again if it was the piece that knew what the
hell he’d been thinking when he shot himself.
Heather rocked and Brad moaned.