The New Flesh

Osama’s hand slipped over Petunia’s mouth, trying to muffle her groans of pleasure. The feel of her pink skin beneath his naked body made his loins ache. He had never wanted another so much, never craved penetration more than this moment. His unoccupied hand slid over her plump body towards her erect nipple. He massaged gently, then harder. His erection grew with every snort uttered from her covered lips. He moved on to the next nipple, repeating the process, then onto the next, and so on. Sweat slicked over their bodies, as they moved together in ecstasy. Osama grabbed for his erect penis, it throbbed beneath his grip. He pushed it against her virginal opening, wanting to enter its heat and wetness.


Petunia kicked him away, her hoof landing square on his swollen testicles. Osama’s breath poured out, the pain waiting a moment before exploding into sparks of pure ache throughout his system. Vomit filled his mouth and he spit the vile taste onto the rocky floor. Petunia would lap it up later. He fell back onto the blankets, in fetal position unable to catch his breath. The hurt was too obscene to consider anything but soothing it, though that task is impossible. Stars burst on the under lids of his closed eyes. Teardrops escaped, along with a whimper or two.


"I’m sorry, Osama. I didn’t mean to nail you in the crotch. I just wanted to stop you from making a mistake we would not be able to erase."


Osama tried to respond, but the pain still bellowed. He needed to wait, unable to even form rational thought at this moment. Helpless, he watched her get up from the pile of blankets and strut to the other side of the cave. Even in agony, his watery eyes can’t help but focus on her curvaceous rump and that little swirly tail that bopped with every step.


After a few more moments, the ache lessened enough to sit upright. Osama fumbled to fix his head wrap that had become disheveled during the intimate moment.


"Petunia, I will make this decision for us. You know we both want the same thing. My desire for you grows day by day. I cannot bear it anymore. I need to have you, no matter how wrong the rest of the world thinks it is."


Petunia stomped her front hoof onto the stone encrusted ground. Her snout lifted upward holding uncertainty and stubbornness.


"I can’t have you throw away all you have lived for. Al-Qaeda will certainly fall if this love affair was ever to surface, Osama. I just can’t let that happen."


Osama pulled a white sheet around his thin waist and stood from the makeshift bed. He knew everything his sweet hog said was true. Everything would collapse. He most likely would be murdered, no, definitely murdered and tortured for committing such acts of indecency. Although every sane thought in his head said run away, stop this madness, he always seemed to find himself sneaking into her sty and ushering her back to his cave for a little midnight slap and tickle.


It had been hard enough even thinking of reasons he possessed a pig. His troops wondered, at first, why he would keep an animal he could not eat. They bought the lame excuse that he needed a pet much more easily than he thought.


Petunia’s sagging teats snapped his thoughts back to the present. He swallowed down the salacious contemplation that always accompanied her visual taunts.


"I don’t care Petunia. To hell with them, with all of them! If I could simply live here with you and do all those nasty things I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on your pink hairy ass, then I would indeed die a happy man. Fuck jihad, and Al-Qaeda. I want you, and no one will stop me or this kinky love inside!"


Petunia’s crooked left ear shot up. Footsteps echoed, amplifying with every step they came, closer to their lurid back-cave getaway.


"Hide me, Osama!"


Petunia scampered past Osama’s knobby knees under the pile of sheets and blankets and burrowed herself deep.


"My love, I will not hide you anymore. We will leave this place together. I will build a castle in your honor; in that matter ten castles, where we will make animal sounds as loud as we want as we grind together as one."


Osama tried to walk to the small crevice leading back to his main cave, but the lingering pain made it impossible. So, he cupped his hands over his mouth, and yelled towards the invading steps.


"Leave me alone! I will have no more disturbances tonight!"


The footsteps stopped, hesitated, and then retreated back from where they came. Giddy with excitement of newfound thoughts of sexual bliss with his precious hog, Osama jumped on the improvised bed and snuggled his dearest swathed under 1000-count cotton.


"All our dreams will come true, Petunia."


Osama’s hand slipped under the sheet and felt Petunia’s moistened vagina, all ready for him.


"Mine sooner than you think."


With a sly grin he stroked his beard contemplating the road he could never return from. He ripped his sheet away, and grabbed his swollen phallus in his sweaty hand. Without hesitation, he entered her inviting crevice. With every thrust, he felt more exhilarated, closer to living life than ever before. For the first time, he felt alive.


This moment marked the beginning of the disintegration of Al-Qaeda as we know it. From that night on, Osama no longer craved infidel annihilation, but rather only pork pussy. Making the world, in fact, a safer place. God Bless America, and Petunia’s hot pig ass.

"Forbidden Desire in a Cave"
Copyright: © 2010 Annemarie Bogart
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Annemarie Bogart's work has appeared in Liquid Imagination, House of Horror, Irish's Story Tymes and Dark Fire Fiction. She also has more work coming out in various anthologies including Dreams and Screams, Library of the Living Dead's Feary Tales, HOWL and Elements of Horror.