Crime - Short

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious and any similarities to actual persons, locations, or events is coincidental. This work cannot be used to train artificial intelligence programs.  No AI tools were used in the writing of this story.

All rights reserved. Tripping Copyright © Eddie Generous 2026

TRIPPING

Marvin scratched his nose as he walked blindly toward the can. The scent of Teresa and Frieda’s sex was musky and thick on his sticky fingers. He stood at the toilet, smiling to himself over how well last night had gone.

And he’d been so paranoid about trying acid.

He hadn’t been laid in more than three years, and here he was, thirty-four, dropping acid for the first time, and stumbling into the hottest, wettest, most outrageous sexual escapade of his life. A three-way. And damned if Teresa and Frieda weren’t a pair of foxy dames.

“Whoops,” he said as he looked down to his penis. There was blood in his pubic hair and around the base of his cock. No biggie, that happened sometimes. That opportunities didn’t arise often did not mean he wasn’t very well-equipped for the job.

After pissing, he began to wash his genitals over the sink with hand soap. It smelled like lavender, a powerful scent, and yet, there was another smell. Earthy. Fishy. Even metallic.

He’d awoken alone in his bedroom after the marathon of debauchery in the living room. He didn’t recall leaving the girls, but everything was vague around the edges.

He guessed they’d be hungry—he was mighty hungry himself. Perhaps they’d go to Denny’s. If anyone in the history of mankind deserved a Lumberjack Slam, it was him.

“Slam,” he said, giggling to himself as he stepped down the hall toward the living room. Images paraded through his head in high speed:

Teresa using her mouth.

Frieda spreading her creamy thighs.

Teresa licking Frieda.

Frieda spreading his cheeks.

Him slamming his into every welcoming hole.

The three of them rolling in one another’s abundant juices, so thick and wet that the carpet had gotten soggy.

He hoped he wouldn’t have to replace the living room rug. That shag was like those blue shop towels, soaking it up and refusing to let go.

“Hey, I was thinking we could…” Marvin began as he rounded a wall, his words trailing as if caught on an arrent nail jutting from the inside of his throat. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was still high, had to be. He reopened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Teresa and Frieda were gone.

Instead… “Mom? Dad? Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!”

Marvin dropped to his knees, lavender-scented hands over his mouth and nose, eyes stretching to full moons. On the couch was his father, chest slashed open, one arm broken, head decapitated. On the floor next to his lounger was his mother. She was naked with blood smeared up her thighs and ass cheeks.

Teresa…no, Tanya, his mother, screaming as Marvin plunged a knife into her stomach.

Marvin shook away the thought and began crawling. “Please, Mommy, please,” he said, reaching her and pulling her backward.

He flipped her over. Her right breast was gone, leaving a dark window, revealing crusty muscles and tendons. Blood covered her chest and abdomen, squirted atop it all were streaks of dried cum.

He jerked backward, falling, landing on his ass, the carpet gushing beneath him, “Ohmygod ohmygod! What do I do?” he wailed, his hand knocking against something soft under the coffee table, he spun and there was his father’s head, lips coated in ejaculate residue. “Dad! No!” his attention shifting to his father’s headless body, the wounds, the breaks, the…

Frieda…no, Francis, his father, smiling with his eyes closed even as the knife slipped between his ribs into his heart.

Marvin put his hands to his face anew. He couldn’t handle this; it had to be a bad trip. The worst trip.

He stopped, hungry, ate that breast.

“No! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck no!”

Using blood as lubricant, his stiff cock slipping down his father’s exposed trachea.

“It can’t! Nonono!”

Marvin stumbled to his feet. This was too much. He ran to his bedroom and to his dresser where he left the second tab of acid. The dealer had been persuasive, had even given him a deal for buying two at once. With bloody, lavender-scented fingers, Marvin put the second tab on his tongue—if he was lucky, this tab would mingle with whatever was left in his system and he’d just fucking die. He then ran to the pantry for his bucket, mop, sponges, and jug of Pine-Sol.

“You’re cleaning candy,” he said, repeating it like a mantra as he sobbed, working, needing the LSD to kick in and carry-on with an hallucination to match the words. “You’re cleaning candy.”

After a little more than an hour, he’d completely calmed down. He decided he’d done enough cleaning for the day and hopped in the shower. The water felt like music against his skin, and he somewhat recalled doing this very thing last night.

Dried and dressed in jogging pants and blank white tee, he followed a tweeting bird out of his bedroom, into the kitchen. The bird perched on his cellphone, tweeting, tweeting, tweeting—

“Oh,” Marvin said and scooped up the device. “Hello?” he said, the word having strange edges between his numb gums.

“Hey, Marvy. Your parents aren’t answering the phone and your dad promised me he’d come by this afternoon to get all the app-things so I can watch my shows on the new TV. Can you come?”

It took a few moments for Marvin to wade through the small talk, but he caught on. This honey was ready to go. “Don’t think you can keep me away,” he said, grinning, his cock already semi-erect.

His grandmother tittered. “Right. I’ll call you a cab.”

Marvin nodded, thinking about this babe. Josie, she’d said her name was. She’d just graduated. University had been so tough she hadn’t spent a moment on pleasure the six years she was there. Now, there was steam to let off. And Marvin was ready to play his part.

Marvin explained all that he had planned for Josie—moves he’d used on Teresa and Frieda, but Josie wouldn’t know that. He kept the phone to his face even as he stepped outside, even as he climbed into the cab, even as he opened his grandmother’s door, this despite the call ending fifteen minutes prior.

“Hey there, Marvy.”

Marvin licked his lips. “Hey there, yourself.” He put his phone into his pocket and stepped toward Josie.

“Uh, are you okay?” his grandmother said, eyeing the jutting protrusion barely cloaked by Marvin’s track pants.

With a cocky snicker, Marvin said, “You like what you see, huh?”

XX