Dean showed up on a two seater watercraft ripped like a high performance motorbike and fast as god given speed. He handled it like the son of an Andretti and I felt sure and goofy, being behind this nut from my youth past and laughing back at the Sun, that great Joy Mahasukha shining in the nature of each dead word of the season Summer, even tho’ it was the corpse of winter here...Dean yells to me about the two young women he met on his way over from Belize City, and it's so loud I can barely hear that they are going to be jet-skiing near Fido's at this precise set of moments oh man like sugar highs we sped over there and sure enough as I'm quoting Krishnamurti to the Judge "I will practice nonviolence, I will practice non envy, I will practice chastity" Sharpe has located two prototype college scandal sheet women zipping to & fro and circularly ass-wise with bikini top gilt hinged maneuvers making waves of all ill and fashioned frequencies…
Dean was marinated in covert information and motives, and I knew that whatever happened, there were 3 separate secrets being coveted here: Dean’s over the world. Mine over Ramona. And Mine in the realm of what was happening inside...So I knew that to go on from here, spotting the rather impressive chest of the sand blonde and the loaded with options tan and olive complexion of the barely dressed Alpha female spinning next to her, I would be putting on edge the unspoken promise of said chastity with Ramona and most probably endangering my very life...Dean Sharpe had a nose for trouble, compromise, and lie coupled with great sources and scouts: the very reason he found these two lovelies that day was because he had a scout at every major resort up the coast probably on payroll to find out what might or might not play...to me this was so alien, to try so hard to have a hand in action of every ilk that to go out of way to befriend on that level leading to gratification or pleasure for I rarely had tried to enlist anyone but my own pecker in my shinanigans with the opposite sexes...But Dean was like his dad that way, always looking for that angle or step to get gone ahead, ahead of everyone else, who they figure is just as hot to get where they're going...what they don't see is Double D Death, for whatever we do leads to death ...that's where everything is going ...I think, “Unti1 I understand myself and my relationship to you I am chaos & misery & destruction & fear & brutality and Sharpe for all I can figure is thinking cunt and money in that order without the moment to sod himself with self inquiry and brood on a mistake ... Dean whipped our water pony around encircling his prey...and it's true, we were riding an ex-tension of his cock, befitting, for his nickname was hogasaurus in ‘87 when none of us had watched enough porn to know that god made them that big...(negative thinking is the highest form of understanding!) "Don't slur over ‘em Price," have some je-ne-se-kwaw would ya?
They were fine enough and shy in coy...Dean gave the "Hullo girls, again that is...how are you?” stuttering a not quite polished greeting that didn't matter for what he lacked in outright introductory con¬fidence he made up for in animal charm and the promise of girth...I sat on back while he introduced me and gave my best honed polite greeting getting both their names and then promptly forgetting amid the pungent aftermath of petroleum and the sickish smell of ether from the idling crafts..."come on," I said brightly, "there's lots of tomato anenomefish and mono's below that are choking on our gas...vamanos!” And with that the spinning was on, eights and circles, leans and fishtails…and damn if those goils weren’t getting wound up and jolly right before our Jocklean eyes...I thought the endowed one—Candy—had given me some sort of sex apple side glance which is always nice, to be faintly noticed in crashing waves amongst the accumulated dead skeletons of coral animals, certainly better than brackish lukewarm indifference…
-Michael Price
