I shouldn´t have stepped out of bed that morning. Everything was wrong. The headache was wrong. The coffee tasted bad. If you manage to brew one single cup of tasty coffee every month, you should be glad. I can´t remember what weather it was, probably no weather at all.
   When finally the aspirine hit, I started to worry about the telephone as usual. Why didn´t anyone call? Maybe the receiver wasn´t in place? No, nobody just didn´t want to phone me. I wasn´t someone you phoned that day. I wanted to phone someone myself, but I couldn´t think of anyone you phoned that day.
   As I sat brooding by the phone, it rang. I let three signals pass before I answered: "Who knows?" A stupid way to answer the phone. It was a woman who called, maybe I shouldn´t say woman, because there are so many women. It was a voice in the telephone who called, and the voice was light and sweet to hear. I wanted to ask "Won´t you sing a lullaby for me?" to the voice who was presenting itself. It said, as if it was a woman who spoke: "I´m Diana. Can I come up for a while. I´ve got something to show you."
   What silence ensued! A cold thrill went through my penis. "No, I don´t want to buy anything, don´t call back!" I shouted and put the receiver back with a bang. My telephone is blue, but the fag-end is white. It stands on a small white table with a round yellow cloth. I like colors. It rang again. This time I answered after the first signal: "yeah, yeah, come on up if you have to. But don´t count on a nice time. It´s almost never nice."
   The mirror told me that my body carried no clothes and that it had an erection. I saw it put on a brown dressing-gown and a pair of brown slippers. Then it sat down in the sofa and waited. I could see it crossing both its legs and its arms; it stared into the mirror in an empty way.
   When the door-bell rang it jumped out of the sofa and ran out in the hall. Then I couldn´t see it anymore. But I felt it put the safety-chain on and open the door. A woman was standing outside, maybe I shouldn´t call her woman, there´s so many women. I hissed between my teeth: "So, it´s you?" even though I didn´t recognize her the slightest. She smiled with her face like a sun. Then I closed the door, took off the chain and let her into the apartment. When she passed me her hip touched my dick-head through the gown and I clenched my teeth so hard it hurt my jaws.
   I turned around and watched her from behind. She had long brown boots and a skirt made of plaid in a red nuance. Between the boots and the skirt a small strip of red wool-stocking showed. She wore a brown sweater and a handbag over her left shoulder. I was so horny I felt sick and had to camouflage it with an artful fit of coughing. She turned around and smiled. Beautiful she was, her face radiated pale and rosy, framed by dark page-boy coiffure. "Whore, slut, bitch..." I thought for myself. But she just smiled.
   She sat down in the sofa with her legs wide apart, the elbows leaning on the knees and her head in her hands. She watched me with such strange joy, as if I made her happy by just being myself. I was forced to smile back, but it probably didn´t look very natural.
   "Well, and now?" I said boldly while uneasiness gnawed my entrails. She said nothing, just smiled with sparkling beauty. I was still horny, my cock glimpsed through the dressing-gown, it was obvious she had seen it, but I didn´t care. She giggled and leaned backward so that her skirt slipped up a bit and showed more red thigh. Then I suddenly realized that she probably had a pussy there somewhere deep down between her legs, and that it would be a splendid place to put my frustrating dick to rest in.
   I immediately sat down beside her and started to fondle her tits through the brown lambwool-sweater while I mumbled that I loved her. She had very nice tits, round and firm with hard nipples. I squeezed and pinched to make her happy enough to let me in between her legs. She looked deep into my eyes and smiled with her whole face. If only she could stop smiling! It disgusted me. I put my hand under her skirt and touched her pussy through the wet wool of the stockings. It felt warm and nice there. I took off her boots, stockings and panties while she nodded and smiled in a most generous way.
   The smile made me furious. I kneeled between her legs and tried to concentrate on her pussy instead. It was swollen and big and terribly hairy. From the hole a thick stream of whitish slime was pouring. A terrible sight who made my stomach turn. But I pressed my face to her flesh just to avoid looking at her face. The slime tasted good and I slided with my nose and tongue around mucous membranes and clitoris and drank the fluid. Her body made a twist now and then, which was a sign that she liked it.
   Finally I took off my dressing-gown and steered my dick towards her cunt with my hand. Just as I started rubbing my dick-head against her clit I looked hastily at her face. She was smiling, even wider than before, it was an angel´s smile, so loving and innocent that my dick became soft in my hand. I immediately lowered my eyes towards the cunt and rubbed the dick harder against her flesh. But now even the pussy seemed to smile at me. How stupid. My cock grew softer all the time. She spread her legs as much as she could so that I could stick it in anyway. With the help of my fingers I got the dick-head in and started jerking carefully. I had hardly begun before the dick slipped out again, now even limper than before.
   Hatred blinded me. I hindered myself hitting her on the nose with my fist. I sat up beside her on the sofa and tried to smile. But her smile defeated mine. Now she looked full of consolidation. She even caressed my cheek. But she stopped when I tried to bite her.
   She took off her sweater and the dirty white bra and let me touch her tits. Then she put her warm soft hand with endless care on my penis and caressed it softly. I was terrified.
   "Come on, baby ..." she whispered and touched and squeezed it. Her nailes carefully scratched my balls. Finally she bent down and breathed on the dick-head, before taking it in her mouth and sucking it. I felt her tongue and palate but she succeeded in keeping her teeth out of the way. Cold sweat broke through on my back and my ears soughed. Sour eructations made me grin. It was so terrible I wished I never had been born. But I was too scared to ask her to stop.
   The anguish made my dick shrink even more. It looked like she sucked a tooth-pick. But now and then she watched me with heavenly patience and smiled as if she actually liked sucking my tooth-pick. I smiled back as much as I could, with a strong feeling of disgust towards her. In despair I started squeezing her ass and sticking my fingers into her hairy slimy pussy and anus to make myself excited again. It was revolting and funny but didn´t help.
   Finally I leaned backwards and tried to pretend I was dead. I didn´t feel anything in my dick anymore, even though her head still leaned towards my stomach and her hair tickled my thighs. Horror emptied me. If only I could go to the bath-room and throw up ? that would make everything easier.
   After a moment, during which I possibly slept or was unconscious due to some other reason, I noticed she had stopped sucking. I opened my eyes dazed and saw her sitting beside me, smiling and watching me. She loved me, it really looked that way. I grinned desperately. If only she wanted to dress and leave. But she didn´t give up. She leaned forward to kiss me and I pulled back my head in horror. Kissing was going too far.
   I tried to cover my sex with my hands. Then I noticed something being wrong down there. My dick was gone. I looked and looked but couldn´t see anything except a small hole. "Well, I don´t know what happened but it shrinked and shrinked and finally it was as if it kind of crawled into your body," she said friendly. "You´re not sad, I hope?" she asked. "No emotions, no emotions at all," I hissed. My mouth was all dry, and I had a palpitation of the heart and froze.
   She put her little left finger into her mouth and moistured it with saliva. Then she let it softly glide into the hole. It actually felt good. She moved her finger to and fro and I felt something reminding of an erection. As if my lower parts were filled with blood and began to swell. She changed to her middle finger and I heard myself moan. "Yes, sister, ´tis not bad" I thought but said nothing. Then she used both her forefinger and her middle finger and it was even more pleasurable. At the same time I felt a strange sensation in my entrails. Sort of a pressure from inside, something similar to constipation.
   She pushed her fingers quicker and harder as the hole was swelling and became larger. Suddenly she quit, stood up and walked into the bathroom. I panted and moaned and felt abandoned. "Don´t leave!" I shouted desperately. She came back with a big smile and a bottle of bathing oil that she poured over my hole and her right hand. Then she put the hand into the hole and started pushing. It was very nice. Nicer than anything I had ever felt before.
   The pain from the entrails grew with the new sexual organ. Through my pleasure I could distantly hear a worried inner voice asking if I wouldn´t crack soon. But the pleasure was so intense I didn´t listen. Thus it went on for a while. Then I heard her ask: "Do you have a bath-sheet or something that we could put underneath you? The sofa´s getting bloody." Then I opened my eyes and looked down on my body. The stomach and the thighs were floating with blood.
   "Look in the bathroom" I said and tried to stand up. But it was as if all my bowels were falling out through the hole so I sat down again. How could everything go so wrong? What a day! When she returned from the bathroom with an orange-colored bath-sheet I said: "I´ll manage this alone, you can leave." Her radiating smile didn´t change. She dressed and left. Before she closed the door she turned around and looked at me. How could I ever paint that look? As if the whole of cosmos suddenly filled up with goodness and opened up and let its neverending love shine over mankind.
   The door closed and she was gone. I wrapped the bath-sheet around my bloody, aching genitals and laid down on the sofa. I could see my face in the mirror: it was smiling.