Home > Work > Fire Down Below (Gynazule #1)
1 " Dove held out a hand to Johnson, and he took it—not because they were fleeing a fire and not because she was holding a million dollars. He took her hand to wrap his fingers around hers. His long, long fingers. Her knees went a little watery. Johnson placed a hand on her lower back to steady her. Her ass went a little watery. The trip up her stairs took longer than Ulysses on his epic journey. Johnson took the keys from her hand and opened her door. "
― Debra Anastasia , Fire Down Below (Gynazule #1)
2 " Dove found Flower waiting outside her apartment. Flower was staring at her Doc Martins and in a very slow-motion move; she looked up at Dove. “Jesus!” Flower’s eyes were wide and her mouth stayed open. Dove wanted to ask, “Bad Jesus or good Jesus?”, but Flower had already used almost half her allotted words on Dove’s predicament. She felt guilty asking for more. "
3 " Oh God. We’re talking about me being naked, in the shower with cooter cream. Please world, end. Kill me. “I know it’s not soap. I just… if it’s scented… I can’t do scented. Flowers and stuff like that. Fruit-flavored soaps make… things… burnish.” She could tell from the peeks at his face Mr. Fitzwell had never stepped foot in bath and lotion store, wanting to try the array of fun fragrances. Nor had he purchased Peppermint Candy shower gel, foamed up his nether regions, and felt like he had dipped them in lava. Dove crossed and uncrossed her legs at the memory. Mr. Fitzwell seemed concerned. “Okay, just a heads-up. It’s definitely not good to put any fruits or plant life near your genitals.” He made a V with his hands and formed his own pretend vagina in front of his pants. Dove covered her eyes and tried to defend herself because now she could hear the sickly older woman beating her supporters with a purse. Dove’s mumbling got louder with her embarrassment. “I don’t put weird things down… there. Just make sure that the cream’s vagina-scented. Just plain. For vaginas.” She kept her eyes on the counter. "
4 " He stopped, finally, and smiled. “Honestly? With this thing I think I could get my jerk-off muscles so well-developed that I could rub out a spooge with one pump! If that’s not worth $19.95, I don’t know what is. "
5 " I don’t think one stalker is allowed to call another stalker a stalker. "
6 " He apologized profusely. “I knew that frog position was too freaky. I’m sorry.” “It’s not that, Johnson. Did you notice that like every third thrust I was like a virgin? That was my asshole.” Dove put a hand on his shoulder. "
7 " One of Duke’s very strict rules was to take his dick out any time a woman demanded it of him. He reached deep and put his favorite friend carefully on the fake wood. She turned and cringed. “Jesus, dicks are so fucking ugly. Why you think putting your grandmother’s jewelry on it will make it more fetching is beyond me.” Duke covered his dick’s ears and snarled back at Dove, “You’ll hurt his feelings. "
8 " Kisses that danced with smiles tasted amazing. "
9 " Dove still couldn’t trust herself to speak without blubbering. But she could kiss. Not Lotsa, not a dressed-up weirdo. Just Dove. She pulled her hand from its sweet prison and touched his face. She leaned in to kiss him, and instead of worrying about which way her nose was pointing, if her armpits were sweating, or if there was a funky taste in her mouth left over from dinner, she thought about lips and touch and kissing. When Johnson moaned, Dove felt so powerful she could have head-butted a dinosaur to death. "
10 " Dove ripped her panties off her body like the Hulk and threw them in the corner. "
11 " He shrugged and laughed a little. “It was a stupid idea. Who takes a girl to a funeral as their first date?” Dove fought through her gown so she could find his hand and hold it. She wanted to lick it, too, but restrained herself. “You do. It would be my honor to go to this old fart’s funeral with you. Except pretend I said that like a person with a heart. "
12 " Me, too.” Dove looked at him and smiled. Johnson missed his mouth when he went for a sip of wine, so Dove passed him her napkin. He began to blush, stammering, “Sorry, your smile made me forget where my intake orifice was.” All my orifices know where you are—especially the ones that grow hair. "
13 " Your nipples are like Novocain.” “You’re at a distinct advantage because I have no idea what controlled substance your nipples are like.” He ran his tongue across his top teeth. "
14 " Johnson seemed to have a playbook memorized. He mumbled things like, “Pleasure, apply pressure, female gratification.” And bent her legs to accomplish some pretty spectacular sexual Twister poses. One in particular had Dove ratcheted up like a street dancer with twenty years’ experience. "
15 " Hey, pharmacist here. Bodily fluids don’t scare me. Neither do yeast infections or wild hair-remover rashes.” He moved her hand and leaned down to give her a long hug. He’s hugging me. Me. "
16 " Holy tit fungus! Did you give Sasquatch an autopsy in here? God almighty, girl.” He waddled back into the hallway, this time holding his privates with both hands. “You balded the dick mitten. Nice. Let me see it.” He looked at her like she might drop trou simply because he suggested it. “I would rather lick a monkey’s armpit than show you my vagina.” Dove gave him the finger. “You know what I love best about a naked muff hole? It looks just like a camel’s dangly lips.” Duke extended his own lips to make them appear gummy and slack. "
17 " Dove hated that he knew way too much about her now. He knew she had a big girl boner for Johnson, he knew she’d tried to remove her crotch hair and had crapped her pants. It was Shameful with a capital Shit. "
18 " So, are you moving in?” Dove tried to look like she was casually leaning against a lamppost. But there was no lamppost, so it looked more like she had injured her back or one of her legs was shorter than the other. "
19 " I just want to make sure he’s a good fit for her. She has problems—craps her pants, stuff like that. If she needs help, I want to be there. "
20 " Dove had next to no coping mechanisms when it came to social interactions gone awry. When all else failed—the running, the hiding, the dying—all that was left was the giggling. The moment she thought about trying not to laugh, it became one hundred times worse. "
