Micro fiction

Sex on Mushrooms

1 minute read

I can still feel the godawful taste of the mushrooms mixed with the peanuts. We should have used honey, gallons of it; those fuckers taste even worse than they look.

I stare at my naked body in the mirror, watching my chest expand and contract in a haze of flesh. Who knew the motion of breathing could be so hypnotic? Fascinated by my own reflection, I stay in place for what seems like several minutes. My pupils are the size of marbles.

Now her body levitates on top of mine. My arms are thin and long, extending all the way up to the ceiling. I can see every individual hair on my body, all the little variations in my skin tone. Apart from the red and blue lights everywhere, I’m disappointed to report that the sex is pretty standard. Well, with one notable exception.

As she writhes on top of me I start crying, overwhelmed by childhood memories that flood me out of nowhere.

She laughs as I ball my eyes out. Then it’s her turn to wail.

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