Read Online Full Frontal Fiction by Jack Murnighan - Free Book Online Page A

she says. “They’re sexy.”
    She laughs, lying down on the couch. It is an invitation and I follow, spreading myself on top of her, careful for the sharp points of elbows and knees. “I’ve never done this before,” I say.
    â€œI know. You look like you’re in shock.”
    â€œI just thought I should tell you.” The truth is that I am vaguely worried about hurting her somehow—or hurting myself.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she says. And I try not to as she slips me inside herself with a single easy motion. But it’s a startling moment: suddenly my penis is gone and we are attached. I hesitate, rest my weight on her hips, then begin to move. I have to tell myself to move, actually; there’s nothing natural or automatic about it. It is awkward, awkward, like trying to write left-handed, but I find a rhythm of sorts, a careful bumpy rhythm, and things seem to be going okay. It’s a precarious, perched feeling, moving over Violet. I’m fucking, I tell myself, as if the word could sum up the mystery of this thing and of how I got here, naked on the couch with Violet. I’m fucking!
    I must have said it out loud, because Violet laughs. “You are,” she says. “We are.” She has a look on her face as if she were standing at the prow of a ship, watching the sea come forward. Her hands are on my back and she rocks in time with my motion, lifting her knees in the air, breathing deeply. “Oh, yes. There. There. There.”
    Where? I want to ask. We are moving somewhere separately together and I want to know. My father is in Tel Aviv, sitting on a bench overlooking the sea, shocked by the Middle Eastern sun. This strange place is the Homeland, and these are Jews, carrying guns, shouting at each other in a language, both soft and guttural, he can’t understand. His tote bag is almost empty now. Citizenship is automatic under the Law of Return, and it is this same law that brings him to the bench every day to watch the light burn on the water. He takes out his passport, just to check his name, his picture. It’s easy to mix up who you are and who you’re trying to be. One slip and the mistake is made.
    â€œThat’s good,” says Violet. “Yes, there. Keep going.”
    But I’ve gone too far already, past the stopping point, and when it is over I lie very still, my eyes closed, listening to her breathing— to the fact of her. I do not move because I can’t bring myself to uncouple.

When to Use
    BY STACEY RICHTER
    THE MOST OBVIOUS time is after menstruation. But you’ll want to use it other times as well—after nervous tension has left you not-so-fresh, to wash away contraceptive jellies or creams (check your contraceptive instructions first), after intercourse (of course, this product is only a cleanser, not a means of birth control), to flush away built-up secretions that cause odor or anytime you want to feel clean and refreshed. Remember, this product is to be used for hygiene; it is not recommended as a method of expressing regret for joyless or ill-advised sexual encounters. It is possible, even with repeated use, that some women may not feel clean and fresh. Certain somebodies may look at themselves in the mirror after proper use and notice a halo of taint, an aura of having been “ridden hard and put up wet.” If, for example, you’ve been doing it with a drifter in a parked car behind a bar, with your shoes up against the window, your pantyhose shackling your ankles and your bra pushed up into your armpits (and, furthermore, if you suspect there are a couple of guys standing in the parking lot, smoking cigarettes, drinking beer and watching—and in your drunken state you like this), then this product may be ineffective, despite the light raspberry scent. We recommend you discontinue use entirely if overwhelming sensations of guilt and humiliation ensue when your regular boyfriend finds