Slippery Slope-Short story-3

There were juice stains on the carpet.
The cat was watching.
The sofa was there.
The sofa was right there.
So why did I lose my virginity on a juice stained carpet that made me think someone had murdered the muppets and splayed their corpses over the wood?
Would a bad sexual experience make a good song?
I should do it quick, that cat might beat me to it. Damn, that cat got quite the show.
When it was done, I left--quickly. It was a mistake, I don't entertain the notion it wasn't.
She liked it. Though I'm pretty sure I wasn't the one on her mind, of all the names she called out I don't recall hearing mine.
That's ok, I wasn't thinking of her, I was thinking of the muppets.
Fuck, that's even worse.
So I took off, she didn't respond, she was already taking over when I finished.
I'm pretty sure she wasn't the best choice.
My parents aren't home, so obviously, I'm ready to have a wild party.
Other than the one I just went to, the way that ended, I'm just going to pretend it never happened.
Alright, wild raging party.
Let's run over the invite list.
“Me”
Woohoo.
So here I am, slightly tipsy, I'm not much of a drinker.
Since I just had sex with a drunk girl, where I'm sober, am I sexual predator?
That's a pretty cool title.
SEXUAL PREDATOR.
Why would anyone be afraid to have to tell the neighborhood they're a sexual predator, sounds to me like a fun time.
Jesus, I just had sex with the biggest slut I know.
Oh my god my piss is going to be red.
My dick is going to be covered in red splotches.
I'm going to have hemorrhoids.
Are hemorrhoids an STD?
She better have been on the pill.
I didn't actually ask if she was.
I think my crotch is itchy.
Oh god.
Well I'm just supposed to assume she is. Descriptions of her vagina wouldn't be school bathroom literature if she wasn't right?
Ok, there has to be something on tv, to get my mind off this.
Zach Braff naked.
A Gilmore girl is getting laid.
Drew Carey's even getting it on.
Tv, bad idea.
Internet?
Ok, that's a really bad question.
I'll play a little something on guitar.
I'm going to write a song about a bad sexual experience no matter what I do. 
At least no one knows.
Except for the cat.
Except for those people having sex on the couch beside us.
Ha! I knew there was a reason why we didn't do it on the couch.
I'm a victim of my own penis.
How could it do this to me?
After I gave it such attention. 
Alright, so I haven't trusted the thing since I had to do a speech with my science partner and stood at the podium ad-libbing for a few minutes while I tried to get it to stop being a dick.
Ha ha.
Good lord I'm clever.
I'll just read a book.
1984? Sex.
Lord of the rings? I'll just start thinking of those elves.
IT? Little kids having sex.
Lolita? 
Jesus Christ.
She didn't even have a personality.
It was like fucking cardboard, only she knew how to talk.
And I imagine it was more pleasurable than cardboard.
Let's be honest, I didn't last long, I barely felt it.
If I had shot off any faster I wouldn't have even been able to get the condom on.
I'm sure she won't tell anyone.
The couple on the couch were laughing a lot though.
I'm screwed. Completely and utterly.
Ok, I'm just going to bed.
What the fuck was that?
The cat?
I don't have a cat.
The dog?
Yeah sure, the dead one.
I'll open the door.
What an odd time to have a hard on.
I'm fucked.
Ok, door open.
Door closed.
That wasn't so bad.
I'm sure lots of kids my age see their parents fucking on their bed.
I lost my hard on.

I didn't masturbate all weekend.
The teacher called on me.
I didn't masturbate all weekend.
I'm at the front of the class.
I didn't masturbate all weekend.
Which is why everyone can see the erection that I don't assume is going away for a while.
This is awkward.
I'm thinking of the muppets again.
Goddamit.
I leave class.
To the bathroom I go.
Porcelain is cold in the morning.
They were right, her vagina is large.
Boy oh boy, I thought I was clever.
It's not going away.
Ok, I simply have to do the most disgusting possible thing I could do.
I am going to masturbate in a public bathroom.
I think I have a problem.
Maybe I need to talk to someone?
I don't think a therapist can help now.
Unless he wants to block the door.
People are walking in.
4 or 5 of them.
This is great.
All I have to do, is walk out, and not let them see my hand covered in mayonnaise.
Would they buy it's mayonnaise?
This is just grand.
All I have to do is just wait.
Just wait.

Did you know that in my school, the bathroom is never empty?
From 9:15 to 3:15, there is a constant stream of students.
They come in.
They do their business.
About half of them wash their hands.
I'd like to wash my hand.
It's caking.
This is disgusting.
All day I've read these four walls.
There is a lot about her.
There's a lot about a lot of girls.
Maybe I should be thinking about how these girls are being objectified by a bunch of assholes who usually only know anything by word of mouth.
Instead I'm thinking of the muppets.
What the fuck is my problem?
Well, despite what terrible people have written here, none of them have ever jerked it in a public bathroom.
Have they?
I don't want to sit here anymore.
The last guy's gone.
Time to clean up.
Clean.
Clean.
Clean.
CLEAN.
It's not coming off well.
Wait.
The fucking toilet paper.
I just sat in a bathroom the entire day, when the toilet paper was sitting right beside me.
I wanted to talk to her today.
Ha ha just kidding.
I wanted to hopefully avoid her until our 25th reunion.
I'm sure I'd be ready to have a kid then.
Better yet, I'm sure I'd be able to learn she dug our kid out of her large vagina with a coat hanger, and be fine.
That's terrible,
If I have a kid, will he like the muppets?
I need a therapist.
I have some issues.
I'd have to work them out with her.
Her?
Would she be pretty?
I'd want a hot therapist.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
I must be insane.
I'm neurotic.
They need to drag me away with a straight jacket.
I hope they aren't girls.
That'd be akward.
Then the doc could give me some sedatives.
And I could relax.
And she could take off her clothes and show me-
I'm going to go play baseball.

So I looked up a bunch of STDs online.
I'm good.
I'm not good.
I'm healthy.
Not mentally.
My dick is fine.
.....
I'm going to call her. 
I'm going to call her.
I'm going to call her.
I haven't actually seen the muppets in a long time.
It's that carpets fault.
I heard that girl has been screwing since she was really young.
I've been touching myself for a long time.
So I'm pretty sure I must be as experienced as her.
Ha ha, I get funnier every day.
Mr Sexual predator, comedian.
So I wrote an email.
Didn't send it.
I explained that I was there for her, if anything happened.
I saved it.
Then deleted it.
I'm sure she doesn't want to hear that bullshit.
Considering I stole the entire thing from Dawson's Creek.
I really like Dawson's creek.
I have a DVD of it.
Right here.
Right beside a muppets DVD.
That's a fine coincidence.
I hear the noises.
I didn't realize until now.
They seemed muted, I'd never hear it.
And now, every night, I hear them.
Sounds like my dad's a hell of a fuck.
You'd think something like that would ruin sex for me entirely.
And yet, one look at the tv, and it's math class all over again.
There is always sex.
If there isn't, you can infer it.
If you can't, you imagine it.
I'm sitting in the chair, and my hands are on my dick.
I don't even care anymore. 
Why not embrace it?
There's juice stains on my carpet.
My parents are in the next room, probably laughing.
There's a cat watching me.
No there isn't.
There might as well be.
20 seconds, a new record.

It's been a week.
One week since I had to jack off in a public bathroom.
It keeps happening.
I'm constantly having erections.
Yesterday I pissed myself to get out of class.
My science project was slightly less interesting than the “roll of quarters” sticking out of my pocket.
“Roll of nickels”.
“Roll of pennies”.
“Roll of dimes”.
Today, I decided to squeeze one out at lunch, hoping it wouldn't come up in class.
Ha ha get it?
Come up?
I'm hilarious.
When I got out of the bathroom, she was there.
It wasn't awkward at all.
Ha ha.
I would've pissed my pants again if I hadn't just taken a leak.
I asked her how she was.
She was fine.
I asked her if she liked the muppets.
I don't think she heard me.
I have a kid.
Well, I have a disgusting little blob of semen in one of her eggs.
So I'm GOING to have a kid.
I asked her if she wanted to abort, she said she wasn't sure.
Maybe she doesn't have a coat hanger.
I'm a terrible person.
It's time to be a man.
Be straight with her.
Tell her you don't think you can father her child.
Tell her you can't do it.
Tell her you can't do it.
Tell her the truth.
I quoted Dawson's Creek word for word.
I have no self respect.

Nothing with teen pregnancy can be made anymore.
It's all compared to Juno.
Did Micheal Cera jerk off in that movie?
I should be thinking about how I'm going to be a dad, but this seems important too.
I should talk to my parents.
But they're having sex.
So it might not be the best time.
If I can keep it to once a day, my dick stays nice and healthy.
Is my kid gonna have a big dick?
I don't wan to be the one to give the sex talk.
What if it's a girl?
What if I become a pedophile and want to fuck her?
There are the important issues. 
I could push her down a flight of stairs.
Am I really that afraid?
No.
I actually don't think I care.
Maybe this'll be great.
Maybe I'll be a fine father. 
I can fuck her constantly while she's pregnant.
I hope my kid likes the muppets.

I don't like kids.
I don't want a kid.
I'm babysitting.
I hate it.
She's a smarmy little bitch.
That's mean.
She's just unpleasant.
And 4.
She's 4.
She likes the muppets.
I called her.
She wasn't home.
Which is good, because I was going to tell her, to go fuck herself. That I didn't want her kid, that she could go die in a ditch for all I care.
I'm pretty sure I didn't see that in Dawson's Creek.
So she wasn't home.
Her mom sounded nice.
Her mom sounded hot.
I was rock hard the whole time.
There was a muppets tape playing.
The girl was in bed. 
I was jacking it the whole time her mom was on the phone.
The girl woke up.
I was scratching.
I was scratching.
I was scratching.
She believes me.
She wants a hug.
So I picked her up.
Close one.
I'm gonna get up the stones, to tell her. I know it.
I believe in me.
I'm a real man.

I'm not a real man, but she's not pregnant, so it doesn't matter.
I was so relieved when she told me, I went to the bathroom and squeezed one out.
There was something weird about her though. I couldn't quite place it.
Not that I tried.
I was too busy.
Being happy.
So I got home.
My parents were fucking 
Drew Carey was fucking.
Lolita was being molested in the pages of a book.
And I was writing.

Urrr....uh....Freud would have a field day with this. o-o

This is like Allen Ginsberg meets Erection. <_<
Meets. Meats.

Lordy, this piece makes me feel awkward after reading it.

If you feel awkward I suppose I've succeeded in provoking something.Anything.