"Harry Adam Knight - Fungus" - читать интересную книгу автора (Knight Harry Adam)

Barbara closed her eyes as Shirley knelt on the bed between her splayed legs. Then she gasped with
pleasure as she felt the warm wetness of ShirleyтАЩs tongue probing the lips of her vagina. The tip of the
tongue then moved up to her clitoris and she gave a low, shuddering moan, arching her back as the first
pulse of pure ecstasy throbbed through her body.

All thought of the attractive blonde woman in the movie theater had fled from her mind.

Much later, sated and exhausted, they fell asleep in each otherтАЩs arms. But during the night Barbara had a
horrible dream that she was choking. She struggled into semi consciousness but the choking sensation
was still there. Her mouth and throat seemed to be filled with a soft, furry sub-

stance. She tried to come fully awake, to cry out, but found herself falling back into unconscious
againтАФan unconsciousness that led to a much deeper oblivion than mere sleep.




When dawn arrived she was still lying there in ShirleyтАЩs arms. They were joined at their mouths by a pale
yellow pulpy mass.


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Neither of them was breathing. The venereal fungus which had grown at an accelerated rate throughout
both their bodies during the night, and killing them in the process, was visible at their other orifices too. It
grew between their legs to form furry yellow diapers and covered their ears like huge, fluffy ear muffs.
And though they were both dead, the fungus grew on.




3
Tuesday, 9.45 p.m.

The tall attractive woman with the long blonde hair paid her bill and left the small Indian restaurant in
Goodge Street. Naseem the waiter had taken the dishes out into the kitchen and scraped the remains of her
meal into a small bin which would later be emptied into the large, round container that sat out in the alley
behind the restaurant. The big container would be collected by the pig feed company that had the edible
waste franchise for the Goodge Street area.

Naseem was just re-covering the table with another paper table cloth when Derrick Lang and Philip Bell
entered. They were laughing loudly and Naseem flinched inwardly. He knew this type of customer only
too well.

тАЬHi, Panjit, old pal,тАЭ said Derrick Lang, a grossly overweight man of about 30, as he sat down at the table.
Lang always called waiters in Indian restaurants Panjit. It was one of his favorite jokes.

тАЬI donтАЩt know how you get away with it,тАЭ said Philip Bell, after Naseem had handed them each a menu