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The following blog entry is pure fiction and bears no relationship to existing people or events.

In Bed With Mr. V (short story)
by drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou
(c) 2015 all rights reserved

The Blogger was lying in bed with mr V., a former Greek Minister of Finances and his hot blonde wife who was already fast asleep on his manly chest. The Blogger liked getting herself stuck between sweaty couples. The smell there was something else. Mr. V kisses his wife on her forehead.

“I haven’t fucked like this since I became Minister of Finances.” says mr. V. “Θεε μου, I really needed that.”.

“You know,” says the Blogger, “There are 11 000 000 people ready to fuck you, your wife and your friend Alex in gratitude of your service to the country.”. Mr V. smiles contently. “What will you do next? Besides fucking them all, that is?”
“I will go back to teaching.”
“Harvard?” asks the Blogger.
“No, I don’t want to run into George again.”
“But George is in the social studies department. Economics is another department at the other side of the campus.”, points out the Blogger.
“I’ve been there before, Harvard is a small world, a village of political power within an academic village.”. Mr. V reaches out to carress the Blogger’s hairy beaver, but the beaver snaps at his hand and crawls back into the river where it swims away in disgust. With the beaver out of the way, mr. V reaches between the legs of the Blogger. Her lips are sealed tight. Straight into her eyes he sees with no smile. She looks back with a “don’t even try, professor” stare. He smiles ironically and caresses the Blogger’s X-legs.

“Who else had the privilege of sharing the bed with you?” she insists.
“Don’t tell anyone…” says mr. V and whispers into her ear: “Fidel.”
“THE CUBAN?!”
“Shhh!” hushes mr. V. “No, no, no another minister of finances.”.
“Wow, you and Zoe and Alex are really out to fuck whomever you can lay your hands on, aren’t you?”. The Blogger raises an eyebrow, then moves herself between the legs of mr. V, who helpfully makes space for her.
“Do you know what it’s like to be fucked in the mouth every day by the likes of Angela, Jeroen, Martin, Mario, Wolfgang? Euromeeting upon euromeeting of them lining up to fuck you. I won’t even go into the the psycho-dynamics of all-night sessions to manufacture agreement.”
“As of tonight, I will know what it’s like to be fucked in the mouth by the former Greek minister of finances.”, thinks the Blogger to herself as she unrolls the condom.
“I’ve never been fucked in the mouth by Germans.”, admits the Blogger in a rare moment of personal honesty. “I only know what it’s like to be raped every day in the mouth by Americans and the Dutch.”. 
Staring down at the unrolled condom she thinks to herself, “I’m surprised I can still do this.”.
Mr. V caresses her hair. With every deep sigh getting deeper and deeper, mr. V releases το Γρυλισμα from within himself. The political animal.
Looking down at the Blogger it laughs. “If only the professional S&M pornographer were still here to see you like this…”.
“I never thought I’d see you here.”. says the Blogger from between the legs of mr. V. “If he were still here to see me like this he’d film it and demand that I sign away my rights on a release form. Because surely no one has ever seen a Greek woman getting fucked in the mouth by her political representatives. Where were you all these years? Hiding under a rock?”

The Blogger senses the flesh of the rockhardon of mr. V in her mouth. The condom’s ripped. Shocked, she pulls her mouth up and away from the disaster scene as fast as she can, minimizing skin contact. Nevertheless, she is left with that semi-rotten egg taste on her tongue that can only mean one thing. She looks up, expecting to see το Γρυλισμα laughing at her, but it is gone.
“Where are you?” she demands angrily.
“Here, here!” says το Γρυλισμα from within her mouth.
The Blogger looks down and sees a brand new unripped condom pointing at her in anticipation.
“FUCKER!” she shouts and spits a mouthful of το Γρυλισμα on the floor next to the bed.
“Don’t ever freak me out like that!” she barks as το Γρυλισμα laughs. “You only play safe?”
“We’re all doomed to oblivion, there is no such thing as safety so I only play it safe.”, says the Blogger, and resumes her civic responsibility as a Greek woman somewhere between the legs of the former Greek minister of finances and his wife.

Το Γρυλισμα nestles itself behind the Blogger’s butt and pulls her legs slightly appart. The Blogger’s pussy hisses at him like a cat. Alarmed, the Blogger looks up and over her shoulder. “You are not gonna do that!”, she warns.
“I just want to have a good look at this Greek mess unfolding before me.”, says το Γρυλισμα running one of its slimy tentacles between the folds.
“Oh no, it’s trying to do that manga ferries thing again.”, thinks the Blogger to herself, and το Γρυλισμα reading her thoughts agrees.
“When a Greek girl says no she means NO!”, hisses the pussy again. Tο Γρυλισμα backs off and the Blogger goes back to minding mr. V.
Licking it’s one lucky tentacle, το Γρυλισμα “mmm!”-s appreciatively. “You taste pretty sweet for such a sour little Greek cunt.”
“It’s not me, it’s the vegan food…”, admits the Blogger apologetically. “I try to lay off the vegan food, I try to eat as many σουβλακια as I humanly can, but… oh, it’s so bad, you can taste it off of me.”. To exculpate herself, she offers: “Meat is so expensive right now, and has become so scarce with the price control embargoes…”.
Το Γρυλισμα was about to suggest that they take the Midnight Meat Train together sometime for a decent meal, but it is once again distracted by the folds, thinking of kusudama and ferries.

The Blogger looks up, and there she is. It’s her. The white worker’s uniform, the golden Xian Orthodox cross on a chain, the Nihon-koku flag with the black sun. Silent Zachary, Szach for short, editor and chief photographer of the dreaded Black Blood publication, was standing there at the head of the bed, aiming her camera straight at the Blogger. The Blogger with a condom in her mouth, looking up at Zachary, realizing there’s no way out of this one. “You’d make a good centerfold for the next issue.”, smirks Szach and presses the button on her camera, firing a sure shot.

The Blogger wakes up screaming.

References

Silent Zachary and Το Γρυλισμα appear courtesy of ΜΟΥΣΙΚΟ ΚΙΝΗΜΑ: (ΜΑΥΡΕΣ) ΤΡΙΧΕΣ.

Silent Zacharia is a character from the book Black Blood by Alexander Voulgaris.

 

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