Samsung Means to Come 2
Scene II: The Dream
I had a dream: I was washing the dishes at my mother-in-law's. Suddenly someone grabbed me from behind. My first thought was: It's my husband. Then I thought: Hey, wait a minute. No, my husband never sets a foot in the kitchen. He isn't even at his mother's. Whoever was holding me from behind was also kissing my neck, sucking my ear lobe and rubbing himself against me. I continued to wash the dishes so my mother-in-law wouldn't notice. He (or she?) lifted up my skirt and pulled down my pantyhose and panties. And now he fucked me but good. Better than good. Better. It was like brilliant art: A little baroque here, a touch of rococo there, now a little pop, then a bit of op. Op it was a product, I mean a service, worthy of a huge conglomerate, powerful, self-serving, (What am I, chopped liver?) megalomaniacal ("an obsession with grandiose things or actions."), calculated (although not to bright to fuck me in my mother-in-law's kitchen), inhuman. But you know something? Does Samsung mean to come? The pleasure was deliciously unbearable. I realized then and there that I love power, egoism, megalomania, calculation, the inhuman, the corporateness. Water ran off the dirty dishes, overflowed the sink and poured down onto my feet and the linoleum floor. My mother-in-law laughed and yelled to me to come see kimmeehwa slug soh sehwon. I was wearing pink rubber gloves up to me elbows, and I came. I came and came. BOOM! And between orgasms, when I came back down to Earth I asked myself: Is what I think is happening? (KABOOM!) Am I coming and coming and with Samsung? (KABOOM!) Does Samsung's genius reach all the way into the kitchen of my mother-in-law? (BOOM!) And in between my orgasms (BOOM!) I kept asking myself (KABOOM!) if Samsung truly had the know-how to unzip my skirt, tug down my pantyhose, rip off my panties and (KABOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM!) fuck me from behind and touch my soul.