“Come on, honey. Lemme see some of that chocolate pussy. Go on, pull up that skirt and let me see some sweet, brown, nigger pussy.” Mouth wide open, Hogg stuck out his tongue and wobbled it like a wet fish. A drop of gray spit hung from his lower lip. “Hey, cocksucker, you gonna help me fuck this little black bitch.…” One hand got into his fly; on the other a single hairy finger bent, beckoning. “Come here, nigger meat. Lemme see some pussy.…”

Her next step back, Honey-Pie’s heel landed on the mattress. I wasn’t sure, from behind her, but it looked like she started to bunch her skirt up.

“Shit …” Hogg whispered, came around the table, pushed her. “Lay down—!”

She grunted when she hit the mattress, rocked back against me; I caught her from hitting her head on the wall.

Hogg’s hand did something inside his pants; another fly button hit the floor, rolled under the table, clicked against one of the iron braces, and fell over.

His wormy cock came out, hard as a pipe, dangling its rag of skin. His knees hit the mattress, and I caught his stench. I tried to remember how many times his clothes had been soiled since I’d met him. With his thumb, he jabbed at the fleshy petals of Honey-Pie’s cunt. She jerked against me.

I let go and scrambled around to get my face between them. I licked her pussy around where his thumb dug—she didn’t have much hair. Then I tried to get at his cock—the rim of his fist beat at my mouth—but he wanted to get it in her. Hogg shoved forward and my head got caught between his fleshy gut, his wrinkled jeans, her bunched-up dress and smooth brown belly. I pulled out. Hogg was already humping her, hard. His knees were on the floor and he was grunting like a pig. She was gasping like one.

I crawled down his legs, and for a while I gnawed on his bare, black, cracked heel.