We did, nevertheless, take along two sleeping bags that we could use in his vehicle, if and when we needed a break from the action. Truthfully, I had little conception of the ‘orgasmatron’ I was embarking upon. Having grown up as Mr. Anonymous, however, I felt sure I would be able to cope with the gratuitous sex that awaited me. The namelessness of the impending fuck-fest delighted me, and Peter’s descriptions of the men that we would encounter excited me enormously.We arrived at the remote venue six p.m. As we got out of Peter’s vehicle my eyes were arrested by a sea of testosterone and fornication. I had arrived in butch-land. Being the middle of summer, Peter had advised me to wear shorts with no underpants, a t-shirt, and sandals. Peter had also mentioned that we should take along a second similar outfit because in his words, ‘things could get a little dirty.’As we moved towards the masculine throng, Peter’s eyes lit up.“I have to introduce you to Jake,” he said, motioning with. She stood by Dylan's coffin and nodded sympathetically."What is Dylan doing here? He's at the wrong funeral!" Jaclyn shouted."Well, he shouldn't have walked through the gate," Catherine said."No!" Jaclyn screamed. "This isn't right! He shouldn't be there!"The other funeral guests looked at Jaclyn in dismay. Jaclyn looked again at Dylan's lifeless corpse, and gasped as his eyelids parted. Instead of eyes, his eye sockets contained pools of blood. The blood dripped down the side of his face like tears.Jaclyn screamed."I'll have to take him away now," Catherine said, and closed the coffin lid."No! Don't do that! Will somebody help him?" Jaclyn shouted. "Somebody do something!"The funeral guests ignored her. Jaclyn clenched her fists."Somebody do SOMETHING!!"Jaclyn opened her eyes. Her pillow was drenched with sweat. She sat up in her bed, and felt her pulse racing.The early morning sun shined through the cracks between her shade and the window frame. Jaclyn turned to her nightstand. The.
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