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  El Gordo’s eyes watered. He was going to pay out the dick now. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Put the can opener on it.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “Di-did I stu-stutter?” the fridge mocked. “Put. The. Can. Opener. On. Your. Cock.”

  El Gordo laid the opener parallel atop his half-chub of a penis.

  “Fucking hilarious. Do it right.”

  This penitence had gone too far. “You’re not God’s messenger. You’re from the devil. The devil’s messenger. Only God can judge me. Who are you to judge me?”

  “Look around you. Gluttons. Gluttons everywhere. Gluttony is not a light sin.” Gus snickered. “It weighs about as much as you. God needs help, so he uses mysterious ways to make people pay. He used a donkey. Remember?”

  Sniffing snot back into his nose, El Gordo nodded. “Balaam’s donkey. But Balaam was hitting the donkey. Who’s here to speak up about you abusing me?”

  “Penitence is not abuse,” Gus explained.

  “I can’t help it!” Tears falling freely now, El Gordo propped himself against Gus. “I loved it. I loved beer more than them, and they left.” Snot meandered freely down his nose and lips. “They left. Beer didn’t. Food didn’t. Is that a sin I must pay for?”

  “A cross to bear? Everyone has ‘em. And God finds ways to pay for them. Listen. You want Heaven?”

  El Gordo remembered praying every night to the Virgin with his mother. Lighting candles to Saint Michael to protect him as he walked to school across sidewalks strewn with condoms and needles. Performing First Communion, then his Confirmation. All his life, he’d spent trying to get into Heaven. Now, all he wanted was Heaven in his apartment, the Heaven that had walked out with the kid years ago.

  “I want them back. Give me a sign you can do this. You can make this—make this penitent man get Heaven.”

  “You Gideon? You setting out a fleece and expect it to be wet the next day? God used a fucking burro back in the day, Fat Thomas. That should be proof enough for you.”

  El Gordo straightened. One more. One more sin to pay for. Then, Heaven would come back, he was sure of it. “Okay. Yes. I’ll do it.” He hooked the silver blade of the can opener on his cock and pressed it in. The device latched onto his body. He groaned as red beads grew and spread around the cut.

  “Now, turn.”

  The fat man trembled. Sweat stained underneath his armpits. “Please. No. This penitence. It’s too heavy.”

  “You must pay.”

  “But, my cross. I don’t want it. Take it.”

  “You must pay.”

  Gordo turned the knob. The blades cut into his flaccid dick. Blood streamed from the jagged edges. The pain was worth the torture, if it meant, in the end, he’d get Heaven.

  He kept turning. Little pieces of flesh fluttered to the floor. Stuck to the tile. He had to maneuver his hands to get around the bottom of his cock. For being such a small cock, it was thick. If only he could take a knife and be done with it.

  “That’s right,” Gus urged. “Be done with it. You must pay. One day at a time.”

  El Gordo glanced at the fridge. Saw the drawings his son had made with finger paints in kindergarten—seven years ago.

  The can opener fell to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Gus roared, “Get back here!”

  El Gordo stumbled towards the sink. This penitence was taking too long, and he was done with waiting. Gus’s ways were mysterious, just like God’s, but even El Gordo knew a watched pot never boiled. He grabbed a dirty chef’s knife, then jammed it into his stomach and jerked right. Blood gushed onto his hands. So much red. The red was warm. Somehow, El Gordo always knew penitence would feel warm, just like Dorothea’s enchiladas.

  MEET THE CHUNKS

  John Ledger

  Charles Chunk and his family moved into their new home in Dripping Springs, Pennsylvania two months ago, and he already hated it. They lived on the corner of Areola Avenue and Semen Street, and their next door neighbors, the Hymens, had already gotten on his nerves. His own family was driving him insane, and he couldn’t wait to get to work.

  It was Monday morning, and nobody liked Mondays, but Charlie Chunk was as excited as usual when he pulled his station wagon into the parking lot of Shoes N’ Such, his job and the local suburban housewives' favorite store. Charlie was a lead sales associate, and he absolutely loved his job. Whether he was helping a customer find some shoes or recommending some lingerie or a pair of earrings, Charlie was always on top of things. His store sold pretty much everything a woman loved, and Charlie loved women. They did specialize in shoes though, and that worked out just great for Charlie, because he specialized in feet. He couldn’t get enough of women’s feet, but this was a secret fetish that his wife Chelsea could never know about, because she would never understand.

  Charles was tired of life and tired of his family. He was an average looking man with a beer gut and a bald head, who never understood why his wife married him in the first place. Chelsea sure was something to look at with her perky tits and heart-shaped ass, but that mouth of hers drove him up a wall. Her long blonde hair and hourglass figure could never make up for the shit that spews from that hole, he thought, as he clocked in at work. The store was already busy, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Charlie was looking forward to getting out on the sales floor as he visually scanned the customers and spotted a middle aged Latina woman with a baby in a stroller. He made his way over to her, noticing that she was looking at bras, checking them over with one hand as she rocked the stroller back and forth with the other.

  “Hi, can I help you with anything today, ma'am?” He asked the lady as he approached her.

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.” She returned with an uncomfortable glance in his direction.

  “Okay, well my name is Charles. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Okay, thank you.” She said, as she pushed her baby away from him and the bras, heading back towards the front of the store.

  Charles had scared her off and unfortunately for him, this happened more often than not. He didn’t have a whole lot of luck with the ladies in general, but this Monday was going to be different. A little after lunchtime, his neighbor Lauren Hymen showed up, and she was looking for shoes. Charles spotted her from across the store, and like his wife Chelsea, she too had a mouth that he would like to tape shut. Lauren was foreign to him, and she was hot. He rushed over to the women’s shoes, and as he approached her, she was sitting on a bench trying on a pair of black high heels with an open toe. Lauren was leaning over as she strapped her foot in, and Charles couldn’t help but notice her cleavage; her arms were pushing her breasts together and the top half was clearly visible as he looked down her open blouse. She was wearing a white bra, and he was certain that he spotted the pink of one of her nipples, trying to escape her boulder holder. Charles felt his pants suddenly becoming much tighter as Lauren noticed his presence in front of her.

  “Oh, hello, Charles, I forgot that you worked here. You like what you see?”

  “I...uh, hello, Lauren. I’m sorry, I wasn’t...I mean, I didn’t mean to look at you, you know?”

  “It’s okay, Charles. Settle down. I must admit I’m flattered to tell you the truth. With a wife as beautiful as Chelsea, I wouldn’t imagine that you’d need to look at other women.”

  “Um...yeah, Chelsea is beautiful, I love her. Once again I’m sorry, that was very unprofessional of me.”

  “Oh, it’s no big deal, Charles. It can be our little secret. I only wish Seymour still had any interest in looking at me. Honestly I think he’s gay, Charles.” Lauren laughed as she took her shoes off, and Charles now found himself staring at her petite and perfectly pedicured feet.

  “You like feet, Charles?” She grinned at him as she stuck her right leg forward and wriggled her toes.

  “I like your feet.” Now Charles was the one grinning as he suddenly felt incredibly comfortable around Lauren. He was pretty sure she was fl
irting with him for whatever reason, and that notion was confirmed as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg and slowly moved it up his khaki pants, stopping just shy of his bulging crotch. Charles was so hard he was ready to bust out of his pants like the Hulk.

  “Oh, my!” Lauren blushed. “Someone’s happy to see me.” Lauren put the shoes in the box and put her own shoes back on before standing up. “I’ll see you around, Charles.” She winked at him and made her way to the front to pay for her shoes, as Charles watched her walk away, blessing whoever invented yoga pants. It wasn’t hard to imagine how perfect Lauren’s ass was as her cheeks bobbled up and down slightly as she moved. Charles was ready to explode as he rushed to the employee restroom and into a stall where he whipped his dick out and began masturbating furiously. He blew his load in the toilet and washed his hands before heading back to work. It was going to be a good day.

  II.

  Chelsea loved when Charles was at work. The kids were at school, and she had the house all to herself. Monday through Friday until four o’clock, Chelsea got to live her secret life away from her horrible family. She’d never really wanted kids, and the only reason she married Charles was for his money. He’d inherited his father’s estate, and that’s when she snatched him up. Of course, back then Charles was a good looking guy with a full head of hair. Now he was fat, bald and out of shape. Chelsea played her part though, while reaping the benefits.

  If Charles ever caught her in the act, she would be divorced in a second. Chelsea was well aware of that, but she didn’t care. It was all a part of the rush for her. She loved the idea of getting caught as much as she loved getting high and fucking her neighbor. Seymour was hung like a horse, and Chelsea couldn't get enough of his cock. She waited every day until his wife, Lauren, went out shopping, and then she would call him. He always referred to her as 'darling,' and for some reason that made her nuts. After the phone call, she knew she would have at least fifteen minutes or so until he arrived.

  Today was different, though. When Chelsea got off the phone she went into her normal routine. She packed up her pipe and fired up the white rock inside while she waited for Seymour to come fuck her. She was feeling hornier than usual today so she got naked before his arrival. A few hits later and Chelsea was spread eagle on the couch with two fingers deep inside herself. She was lost in her own mind, and an orgasm or two later, she’d forgotten all about Seymour as she passed out alone.

  III.

  Seymour tried to call Chelsea back to let her know he wasn’t going to be able to make it. The phone rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. He never left messages with her so he hung up, frustrated with his wife Lauren. She’d text him to let him know she was stopping back home because she’d forgotten something. Lauren would expect him to be there, so he had to stay home. Cock blocked by my own wife, he thought.

  Seymour couldn’t stand his wife anymore. Sure, she was hot, but she was a money-hungry bitch. She never had sex with him anymore, and the sight of her disgusted him. To top it off, his son Simon had turned out gay. Seymour just wanted to run away with Chelsea and fuck her forever. He knew that wasn’t a possibility as long as her fat ass husband was around, though. Seymour thought about all of this as his wife pulled into the driveway in her BMW that he paid for. He noticed the new shoes on her feet as soon as she got out of the car. “I thought you were going to the gym, not shoe shopping?”

  “I did go to the gym. Then I went shoe shopping. What are you doing, nothing as usual?”

  “That’s right, Lauren, I’m doing nothing. And you know what? I support this family and I make enough money to do nothing whenever I damn well please.”

  Lauren stared at him coldly, but her glare quickly turned into a smile. “Well, good for you, honey.” She attempted to ignore him as she walked past and into the house.

  “What are you doing, anyway? What’d you forget?”

  “I’m going back out, and don’t worry about what I forgot. Drink your bourbon, and leave me alone.”

  “Fine. Maybe I will. Fuck you, then.” Seymour replied as he followed her inside. Lauren disappeared up the stairs as he went to the kitchen to make a drink. He was glad she was going back out. He might’ve missed out on his favorite activity of the day with Chelsea across the street, but he had other things to look forward to as he reclaimed his spot on the porch. A few minutes passed before Lauren exited the house, totally ignoring his existence. She was still wearing her new shoes, but he noticed she’d lost the gym clothes for a short, yellow sundress. ‘God, she’s hot.’ He thought, but he still wished she’d get hit by a truck. A part of him was curious where the hell she was going dressed like that, but a bigger part didn’t give two shits anymore. Seymour watched her drive away as he sipped his drink and kept an eye on the Chunks' house across the street. He thought about calling Chelsea again, but it was too late in the day now. Her kids would be home soon and so would his son. Seymour settled for waiting to get a look at Chelsea’s daughter, Cameron. She was a little young, he realized, but he didn’t care. Seymour didn’t care about much at all anymore.

  IV.

  The junior high let out a half hour earlier than the high school, so Charles Jr., or Chuck, as his few friends called him, always got home before his sister, Cameron. Chuck had no idea what kind of surprise was waiting for him when he got home today, though. At fifteen years old, with big nerd glasses and a face full of pimples, he’d never seen a girl naked before in person. As he set foot in his living room that’s exactly what he saw. His mother was out like a light on the couch, and she was completely nude. Chuck didn’t understand what was going on. Why would she be lying here with no clothes on knowing that her kids would be home soon?

  Chuck quietly closed the door, careful not to wake her as he intended to sneak upstairs quietly. Chelsea didn’t move a muscle as the door latched shut, however, instead of going upstairs, Chuck found himself moving closer to the couch. He immediately spotted the glass pipe and the white pebbles on a DVD case on the coffee table. Chuck assumed it was crack cocaine, and this surprised him as well. He had no clue that his mother was on drugs. He looked down at her and understood the reason why his dad put up with her. She was hot. His own mother looked better than most of the women in the pornos he watched in his room. He noticed her nipples jutting outward and thought about covering her up. That thought quickly vanished as he looked further down her body and found out that his mom was completely shaven. Chuck felt himself getting hard, and he was so ashamed. This was his own mother that he was drooling over. He didn’t think about fucking her, but he couldn’t look away nonetheless. As a matter of fact, this was an image he needed to remember. Chuck took a few pictures with his phone and marched off to his room, where he took off his pants immediately. Gary was sleeping, so Chuck was all alone and at peace.

  V.

  Charles spent the rest of his day thinking about Lauren. He thought about her bubble butt in those yoga pants, and he thought about her bare foot rubbing against his crotch. By the time Charles got off work, he was a walking hard on once again. He even thought about going home and trying to fuck his wife for a change. That idea vanished once he got near his vehicle and spotted her.

  Lauren was standing by his driver’s door, smiling at him. She looked like a Hollywood actress in her yellow dress, with her curly brown hair, and over-sized sunglasses. She was way out of Charles’ league, and he knew it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see you, Charles. Don’t you wanna see me?”

  “I...uh. I’m happy to see you. But, why?”

  “I told you, Charles. Seymour doesn’t love me anymore. He doesn’t pay me any attention. The way you looked at me today made me feel special, Charles. I deserve to feel special. Look at me, I’m gorgeous.”

  Charles was in shock but he couldn’t argue with her. As a matter of fact, he found himself agreeing with her very quickly. “You are very gorgeous, Lauren. Seymour doesn’t understand what he’s missing out on.”

>   Lauren smiled at him. “How about we get in the back of your vehicle, and you tell me how gorgeous I am?”

  Charles didn’t even hesitate as he unlocked the doors, and they climbed in the backseat of his SUV. The windows were tinted, so Charles didn’t have to worry about privacy as Lauren immediately pulled her dress down, hypnotizing him. Next, she leaned back and took her shoes off, placing her feet in Charles’ crotch for the second time today. Charles didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t believe he was with in the backseat of his car with his neighbor's tits hanging out in front of him. It was a fantasy come to life.

  “Pull your dick out. I want you to fuck my feet.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t act shy, Charles. You like feet, and I want you to fuck mine. So, pull your dick out.”

  Charles was shocked but too turned on to care as he fumbled with his belt, trying to open his pants as fast as possible.

  “Let me help you, Charles.” Lauren sat forward and opened his pants for him, as she grabbed his cock and took it in her mouth with expertise. As soon as Charles was nice and hard, she stopped and leaned back again. “Now, fuck my feet.”

  Charles didn’t ask any questions this time. He grabbed her by the ankles and brought her feet together on his cock, as he did exactly what she asked. He fucked her feet.

  Lauren pulled her yellow dress up and played with her clit while Charles got himself off. She came around the same time he made a mess of her dress. Charles leaned back and laid down, enjoying himself for the first time in a while. Lauren wasn’t done enjoying herself yet though, “You stay right there, Charles. It’s my turn now.”

  “Huh?” was all he had a chance to say, before she sat on his face.

  VI.

  Seymour was pretty drunk by the time his son arrived home from school. He was still sitting on the porch when Simon and Cameron got out of her car. To his surprise though, Cameron followed his son over to their house to greet him. “Hi, Mr. Hymen.” She smiled at him, as Seymour stood up to welcome them.