Thursday, July 1, 2010
A blue, bloated whale named James died right on top of her. With a mighty grunt, he pushed the effulgement of his manhood into her and with it, he sent his ventricles into a wormy fibrillation. He twitched, stiffened and seized. His mouth grimaced and drooled foam, his breathing got gaspy and by the time his eyes rolled back into his head, Lillibeth knew he was toast. She didn't think he would be so heavy. So that's what dead weight means. James weighed 280 pounds. If LB didn't take kick boxing lessons, she would never have been able to move chubby boy enough to squeeze out from under him.
As she stood by the bed, she surveyed the situation. The lummox lying prone in front of her looked like a woolly mammal. James' body sweater covered everything but his soles, palms, forehead and scalp. Through the years she had to vacuum the sheets of shed hairs before she stripped the bed. If not, the hairs would be dispersed on the bedroom rug. His hairs were harder to get out of the rug than those of a golden retriever. Whenever Jimbo was frisky, the hair harvest tripled. How could a man so ripe with hair be a rimmer, one of those guys completely bald except for the rim.
LB had been disengaged from Jimmy's lovemaking for years. Once he hit 250 pounds, she couldn't feel his love. It is said you lose an inch for every 30 pounds gained. When Jim Dadoes was 190 pounds, he was pushing an effective five inches. At 280, well, she did the math a million times; ninety divided by thirty equals three and then subtracted from five gave the man from Philly two to work with. TWO, she looked at him with disgust. At this point, he released. It happens at death. She opened a window.
Their marriage of sixteen years was long dead. Dead as a doornail, yes, indeed. LB at thirty-eight still caused a stir when she wore Daisy Dukes, a bikini top and fmp's (f*** me pumps). She had legs that went to heaven. Not all women have that space at heaven's door, but LB did. You can see it best from behind. When LB and Jimmy were together, it was whack, a skinny hottie and a big meatball. Anybody who saw them couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. LB was always faithful, but she had her chances. Jimmy had no chances but he was habitually unfaithful. He paid hookers, he paid spa girls and once he paid a man.
Their union was not blessed with children. Maybe if things were more fruitful, it would have turned out differently. They were both too dumb and too proud ever to get checked out. Jim blamed Lillibeth. He said she was una puttana before he came along. He avers that he made her an honest woman. Inasmuch as she got the clap so many times, Dr. James says the gonococcus killed her tubes. Lillibeth, on the other hand, blamed James. He was an alcoholic and he smoked like a chimney. Every time Jimster drank a beer or smoked a cigarette, she would say, "What da ya think that's doing to your sperms?" Sperms.
To the round mound's credit, he was a good earner. He could sell sand in the desert. Somehow the big pillow was as believable as the Dali Lama. He made two to three grand a week, week after week, while making folks happy with used Toyotas, Nissans, Chevys and whatever else Herb Chasmers bought for "Herb's Motors of Runnemede". The motto at Herb's says it all, "New to You, Herb's, Where You Ride Cheeep". There seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of low end buyers, who didn't mind paying a financing charge of 15% APR. No matter how angry LB was with Jimmy-POP, she always reminded herself she could buy chenille bedspreads whenever and wherever. A good earner can be hard to find.
It would have been a lot easier if JD didn't earn. LB would have dumped him eight or nine years ago. That's when Timothy Snideles came knocking at the door. Timmy was Jimmy's one and only male prostitute. The day after the boys were boys, Tim was notified by the Camden County Health Department that his HIV status had turned positive. Lucky for Jimmy that he left his wallet in Timmy's motel room, making him easy to track. Timmy felt he was doing Jimmy a solid by coming over in person. LB answered the door and Timmy spilled it out. Stunned, Lillibeth took the wallet and waited for the salesman. At first he denied, then he admitted and then they got tested. Negative and negative. Jimmy took pills for about a year. They worked since Jimmy never flipped. After about three years, LB let Jimmy back in, at first with a raincoat and after a year or two more, Jimmy got to ride without a saddle.
When Jimmy turned forty his tumescence diminished. Not so unusual, especially for a smoking, morbidly obese pre diabetic. He found that the blue pill, Viagra, got him to giddy-up. First he used 25 mg, but after a year he found the 50 mg dosage to be more sustaining. LB worried about Jimmy because she read about some Russian guy, who tried to pleasure two women for 12 hours. The 27 year old comrade died after taking several doses of Vitamin V. If the drug could off a young Russian, what might it do to Mr. Blimpo? Worse yet, Jim was getting the drug from Herb, who had a cousin in the import wholesale pharmacy business. Jim refused to see a doctor for a check up to be sure the Viagra was OK for him.
Not perspicacious by nature, it took Lilli a few months to do her research. She had the good sense to go to the Runnemede Public library to check out Viagra. She discovered it was originally a drug being investigated for heart use. The men in the early studies noted that their Oscar Mayers were coming out of dormancy. What a side effect! Sure beats a rash. Sildenafil is the generic label for Viagra. Pfizer still has an a patent for Viagra, so consequently in the USA there is no generic product. Many other countries sell the generic Viagra. It works by inhibiting an enzyme, cGMP specific phosphodiesterase type 5. This particular cGMP acts to reduce penile blood flow. Less cGMP means more blood, hence more erectile accentuation. Side effects included among other things, a drop in blood pressure, blindness, deafness and priapism (where it gets hard and stays hard).
And so it went - nowhere. LB wanted to keep her lifestyle, but she wanted to be free of the devalued sawzeech. If she divorced James, she would be out of luck. He would get half and half was not appealing to her. She thought about hiring a hit man. She considered poison. No and No. Guns and knives were out. What if he were to die naturally? Hmm.
Tonight was the perfect night. He came in from work, already Jim Beamed and horny. He was hungry, but she knew to keep his stomach empty. Viagra is much better absorbed on an empty stomach. Fat inhibits the drug's effectiveness. As soon as he sat down, she went into what could be described as seduction mode. She hugged him pushing herself square into him. He sensed that she was "in the mood". A peck on the lips led to a full lipped kiss which led to lingual wrestling. Let the games begin. She had a blister pack of five 50 mg generic Viagra palmed in her left hand. With her right thumb she pushed two of them out of their clear bubbles through the foil bases and into her left hand. She put them in her mouth and then she Frenched them into his. To his amazement she then freed a third generic Viagra. She swallowed this one. She said, "It's going to be a good night." Indeed.
Oh, she could be good. LB pulled a few old tricks out of the bag, fingers everywhere. Jimmy thought he died and went to heaven. Little did he know. While the results of female Viagra use are equivocal, LB behaved like she had been given Spanish Fly. The Spanish Fly or cantharides is an emerald green beetle.
It is given as an aphrodisiac. When the cantharides is excreted in the urine it irritates the urethra, causing sexual excitation. In reality, it is a dangerous practice, sometimes resulting in permanent damage to the kidneys.
After the first orgasm, James rested. She gently ran her fingers over his back and through that pelt, which seemed thicker than that of a stoat. He slept the sleep of a drained man. After about 20 minutes, she began to work his crinkly purse. Always a sucker for that, he responded. She worked his gooch too. The gooch is that space between the sac and the rear port. Knowing he would want it again, she released the last two Viagra from their captivity. Again she mouth transferred them to him and he downed them with four more ounces of Jim Beam.
Jimmy MacAdoo had to work hard to get into game shape. But he did. At that point, he was a man possessed. Just drunk enough, she hammered him with exhortations one could only imagine. He pushed himself beyond physical limits in his efforts to release. And it was with a gargantuan explosion that he met his maker, both figuratively and literally. The booze, the 200 mg of Viagra, the obesity, the pre diabetes and the unknown coronary artery disease coupled with his extreme exertion led to his death. The coroner, who released the body without an autopsy or toxicology, listed the cause of death as "myocardial infarction." Lillibeth reported that Jimmy had taken 50 mg of Viagra. Dr. Opalmutter thought he consoled LB with, "At least he died happy." HA!
So, LB got what she wanted. Jimmy was out of the picture and she got to keep everything. Or so she thought. Herb's cousin, Rafel, was in the discount insurance business. Herb had worked out a deal for cheeep life policies for him and James. A million each. James never told Lillibeth. And when Domenica Life and Casualty contacted Lillibeth about the pay out she didn't tell their adjuster about the the sildenafil. To the murderer goes the spoils. So it goes.