Glitterati

It was almost dawn. Florna and I sat across from each other in fathers parlor. Pancake batter stains ran down the length of the stunning frock that she wore. I gently ran my fingers through her hair - like the finest fettuccine. And her eyes, those fucking eyes... so bright, they glow like burning coals in the dark.

For countless months I have waited for this moment. My mind swells and races with visions of carnal activity - all of the things I would do with her if only Padre Lorenzo would bless our union. Then we would go forth as honest Christians - through the threshold, loosing ourselves in the oblivion of our own flesh.

Before we leave for the evening I feel compelled to tell her of my most vivid dream... I see the Mexican sun shining down upon us as we stand upon the alter. We exchange vows and I am struck with the realization that this woman will now have my balls in a constant state of lock-down. Padre Lorenzo laughs with his gap toothed yellow smile, as a mariachi band plays the death march in front of a pale faced Christ.