Uschi! Read Online Free

circumference of a 7-11’s Big Gulp’s to-go lid and black as the spoiled splotches found on the rind of a bad avocado. A couple of these crusty around the edges open sores dotting her Valentine’s heart shaped ass were weeping a vulgar fluid similar in color and density to that of strawberry jam spread over a warm slice of toast. The most precious little yarn of spermy drool oozed from her full, pouty lips and dangled from the chin.
    “She’s beautiful,” spoke Denny in a voice no more than a soft and awed whisper. He refused to blink his eyes; terrified he’d miss some new detail about her. “Prettier than Barbara Steele with window cleaner injected straight into her brain. Perfection encased in flesh, that’s what we got going on here. I shall call her … Uschi.”
    And these parting words from the devil: “Oh. A little speck of warning for you before I pop out. I made her a feisty bitch. Gave her plenty of personality. So she may from time to time get somewhat uppity with you here and again. You with me on this, earthworm? Just thought you should know. Enjoy your fucking, and be seeing you. I’ll tell Larry you said howdy. Hey, y’all take care.”
    The mouth of the dead toad in the microwave oven then fell shut. Satan had left the building.
    Man and undead were alone now in the trailer. Time to let the romancing commence. Time to turn on the ol’ Gleeth charm.
    Hands were lickety-split to go to his head and try and finger comb his hair down as neatly as he could work it. Face twisted into what Denny hoped came off as a confident, he-man sexy smile. One of those bold and sassy lips parted back wide jobs, this smile, exposing rather shoddy dental care practice. What a terrible time not to be wearing cologne. He gave her solid eye contact, an act he rarely mastered with any living female. The voice that came out of him was not his usual one, this one practiced along with the toothy smile countless times before in front of the bathroom mirror slick and honey sweet and aiming for some of that 1970s Burt Reynolds masculine sexy coolness. “Hey, baby, and just how is the world treating you tonight?”
    Uschi came in close on Denny, close enough for the hardness of her big, arrogant titties to brush against his Beneath the Planet of the Apes T-shirt and the weird supernatural aura that powered her to absorb dry the sweat from his skin. The autopsy Y incision on her ran from below the shoulders, down between her titanic tits, and stopped just above her navel. The parts of Uschi where she was joined and barbed wire sewn together appeared ruffled and almost fluted like the crust on a baked pecan pie.
    A change came to her eyes, abrupt and dramatic. Gone was the lusterless, unfocused stare of some simple dead thing, and replaced now with what Denny identified as the lusty predatorial glint of a porn star not yet used up and burned out by the fucking and sucking business. She lifted a hand and first seductively ran her fingers along the deep cleavage of her veiny knockers, and then she reached out toward his face. Her lacquered nails, long like the talons of a bird of prey, were painted fresh blood red and were the epitome of trailer trash chic.
    Rain hammering the roof and a sizeable crack of thunder was all that interfered with the intense silence existing between the two.
    She put her thumb on Denny’s upper lip—her touch not too different from a putrefied slice of processed bologna lunchmeat pressing against him—and she wiped at the snotty blood that leaked from his nose. As her pale and fat snake of a tongue eased out past her lipstick coated lips and licked her thumb clean, she moaned in pleasure a grandma in the hospital deathbed rattle of a noise.
    That was the sexiest goddamn thing Denny had ever been fortunate enough to be witness to. Fucked by Forrest J. Ackerman, he almost came in his Fruit of the Loom briefs right then and there. Everything was ninja killing cool now. Denny’s life was going to be