K-9 Inches

FICTION BY FRAYN MASTERS

Your dog has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.

What? Have we met?...

Seriously, I saw you walking him the other day and I’ve never seen anything like it.

I hadn’t really thought about it.

You hadn’t? Come on. That thing is huge. I felt small in comparison. Not that I’m small cuz I’m not. I’m not huge either, not like your dog. What kind of dog is that?

Um, I got it at the pound so I’m not really sure. I’m just here waiting for my coffee to come up so...

“Not sure” is code for “mutt”, right? That’s what people always say when the dog is the product of mixed breed sex. It’s weird to think of dogs having “sex”. I mean they really just screw, right? There’s no drinks or intimacy involved. Although that’d be pretty fuckin’ funny. Can you imagine walking your big-dicked dog and having him try to chat up some Jack Russell terrier babe? Hey, you’re cute. And then that little Jack Russell chick would be right there staring at his dick. She’d be eye level. It’s right there for her to check out. She’d have to do some quick math and figure out the erect circumference of the dog’s dick and would that fit into her little Jack Russell vagina. Holy crap! It’d be so righteous to go to a bar with my dick out and put the moves on some chick who is all short. She’d be eye level just like the Jack Russell bitch.

I don’t know what to say. Hopefully, she’d be good at math?

That’s funny. Good at math. You’re a lady that’s got a sense of humor. You know that’s what women rate as the most important quality in a guy. I figure I’ve got that one covered to the floor. I mean humor is so natural for me.
Jesus H!

What is it?

I just got a flash of your dog’s dick. Seriously, ever since I saw it I think about it every once in a while. It looks like one of those strawberry yogurt push pops. But, hey, don’t think I’m all attracted to your pooch cuz that shit is sick. S-I-C-K.

I don’t think my dog is attracted to you either if that is of any solace. He seems to fancy a chocolate lab--goes by the name of Bon Bon.

Bon Bon? Now that’s fucked up. I could never be attracted to a girl named Bon Bon. Well, not unless she had HUGE Bon Bons. Ha.

There’s that sense of humor women love.

Hilarious. You are a gold medal chick. Let me leave you with one last thought. I’m a nanny for this hoity-toity sweet piece of divorced ass and the baby was sleeping. I was mixing up soy formula and I started fantasizing about my girlfriend Bethany Jo. She’s my ex. The next thing I knew... bang! There was your dog’s crank dangling right there next to her. It’s all exposed, pink and each ball sac is bursting with about a gallon of vanilla pudding. OK. So, picture this: there’s your dog and my ex-girlfriend, and your dog has his two furry paws on the small of her back and he is really going at her. Your dog is the backdoor master. I could never-ever-not-even-on-Christmas-Day get her to do that sort of shit. Never. I miss her though; she could make some decent peach cobbler. She’s seeing some sort of foot doctor now. True.

I’m surprised she let a winner like you go.

Well, anyways I’m Jack.

I’ll do my best to remember that.

Catch you and your dog’s dick around sometime, kay?

Only if I’m lucky.

That dick. Jesus Christ. Oh, man. Oh, baby. Oh.

Frayn Masters is the author of Pants All Night. A member of the performance group Haiku Inferno, who have appeared twice in 2GQ events at the Enteractive Language Festival, she lives with her boyfriend Kevin in Portland, Oregon. Other stuff of hers can be located in Eye-Rhyme, Little Engines #4, Number One Fan, Surgery of Modern Warfare,  and Pindeldyboz. Contact her at fraynmasters@yahoo.com.