Old Dogs Don't Eat Pomegranates

A short novel i have began to write. I want to see where this takes me. I know what i want to happen. All i need to do now is make it so.


2. Money shot


1 Roy, Morgan & Tom


Roy Stevenson woke up. Hung-over. Lilith was out of A&E. She had collapsed. But he stayed with her until she was better. And then, for the next three hours he was on her cloud. She lay next to him. Naked as the day she was born. Her small breasts naked to the sunlight teasing them. He pulled the duvet over her and smiled. She really was beautiful. This was in the sunset hotel in California; on nearly the other side of the sprawling city was a house.

Morgan was cooking breakfast for his wife. Scrambled eggs. His own recipe. It consisted off three eggs, and half a bottle of brown sauce, and grated cheese. He thought Aggie liked it. He also though he gave her orgasms, but her last one was on that new year's party. With Tom. She lay there. Dissatisfied with her life that, for all intents and purposes, should have been satisfactory. She had money, she had a loving husband. But sadly, the desire for something you can't have is unimaginable.

Tom sat there. He looked at his two fat lumps that he called his kids. And for the first time since they had gotten this size. He looked at them and spoke to them. "You really are a pair of fat little fuckers aren't you"

"What was that?" Janet called as she got dressed. In her conservative im-not-showing-any-skin business suit. She walked out and he saw the weight on her hips of the first time in years. And he felt the feeling as he thrust into Aggie, felt every motion of her body- "Are you okay?"

"Yeah im fine." Tom answered. He didn’t get up to say goodbye to his wife. He was aware of the growing erection in his pants. As soon as she was gone he would masturbate. For the tenth time this weekend.

Roy is looking over his shoulder. Looking at the beautiful figure under those covers. He turned form the window. Showing his bear sagging ass to the world outside. And he didn’t care one bit. She stirred and he went over to her. Kissing her softly. Her tongue felt around the front of his teeth before he pulled away to speak.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"Well." She said. Sitting up. In all her life this was honestly a question she had never asked herself. Or, to re-phrase that, wanted to ask herself. The idea of eating in the morning, of starting her day with the one thing that scared her the most horrified her. But something about the wise eyes of Roy made her want to finish the plate of pancakes before they were cold. They sat naked and ate. Eventually they ditched plates all together and ate of each other.

Speaking of eating. Whilst Tom went upstairs to rigorously masturbate over what little memory of his night with Aggie he had left. His two butterball sons were rocking back and forward in their chairs. Back and forth. Holding spoons full of liquefied eggs and bacon. Until inevitably. One of them fell.

In all honesty, form the size of him, you would have expected him to bounce. But instead he kind of rolled into the kitchen counter. You would also think his considerable size would stop him from hurting himself. The broken arm proved that wrong.

His hurt little eyes. The wail that followed. All of it wasn't heard by Tom, who had resorted to searching for pornography with the desperation of a teenager.

Aggie lay there. Dissatisfied still. But she put on a brave face as her wreck of a husband came up the stairs. Her husband who took advice from dirty old men hanging around bars with a taste for veil with a bad body image.

"I made your favourite."


"Yes?" He said, Looking at herm smiling wearily.

"I can't fucking do this anymore." She got up. Her still near perfect body showing all the curves. "You don’t do it for me anymore." She pushed passed him. Grabbed her cell phone and a coat and spare clothes.

For all of his advantages. Morgan wasn't smart. He was kind hearted. Meant well. He was described as sweet by all of his friends who were girls when he was in secondary school. But smart was not what he was. As sweet as he may be. You want proof of his stupidity? His wife had been ready to leave for the last week. She had a packed suit case in the hall of there million dollar home. In fact, saying Morgan was stupid for overlooking this was an understatement. He was a dumb fuck for not noticing this.

He stood there. Dumbfounded. The vile mixture of egg and sauce on a plate in his hand. He sat down on the bed his wife had been lying in not moments ago. And began to eat the last meal he ever made for her again.



2 Roy


Roy lay back. Light a cigarette and poured himself a shot of gin. Lilith looked at it wearily. Looked at his back, that tattoo, riddled with scars. She remembers tracing it with her lips not eight hours ago.

"Should you be drinking this early?" She said, stroking the visages of the grim reaper on Roy's back.

"Probably not." He answered before kissing her again. The bitter taste of the drink hot on his lips. "You know Lilith, i have only known you for a month nearly. But it feels like i have known you all my life." He had that right. Those two had so much in common it was scary, both loved the works of Frank Sinatra, both loved French toast, both had had bad lives, Roy with alcoholism, Lilith with her body image crisis. But already they were indulging less and less in these short comings of theirs. They were made for each other, even their bodies fitted together, she was the perfect height for her to rest his chin on her head.

She never told him this, but she found the most attractive thing about Roy was his ears. She never knew why, but ears seemed to be her turn on. For Roy it was necks. He looked at the ridge of her neck, how its milky peaches and cream complexion glowed and kissed it. They went back to bed, they would have another bout of sex, then she would fall asleep easily and Roy would have a quick shot of vodka, or two.


3 Tom



Across the sun rise Tom was on a roll. It had been an hour since his fat son had broken his arm. Tom didn’t know this however. The simple use of head phones and load hardcore pornography saw to that. He stood there, his five hundred dollar chinos round his ankles whilst he ruined another pair of Calvin Cline underwear and loosened the watch strap on his wrist.

Eventually though, after the third time he got bored. He didn’t delete his history. He had found a particularly good video that he wasn't ready to forget about entirely. As he waddled down stairs, with some essence of swagger. He heard the crying.

He saw his spherical son. On the floor. His doughy arm at an odd angle.

"Oh fuck oh fuck. Shit fuck." He was panicking. He picked up his child – nearly throwing out his back as he did so – and carried him to the table. "Fuck its broken." He ran to the phone and dialled 9/11. He stopped before completing it.

What if they think i did this? Fuck. What if they think im a child beater. He'll get taken to prison. Be someone's bitch. But no. It's his child. And there is no proof he did anything wrong. No proof he didn’t either. And his internet history isn’t savoury. And his fucking ruined boxers he squelched down the stairs in were still damp in the crotch. He felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

He had an idea. His neighbours. They were in. But if he put his son by their door. Then came out looking for him. Maybe they will think he crawled out the window. He went up to the window. Sizing it up against the girth of his son. If his brain wasn't a mash potato stew of sexual frustration and reliving pornography, he probably would have realised how stupid he was being.

"you need to lose some fucking weight" He sighed to himself and went to the window and placed his injured son onto the grass outside. He waited a minute. Then made a deal of calling his name. Over and over.


4 Morgan, Tom & Aggie



And over. Morgan thought. She had someone else. And was probably fucking them. Or looking too again. He could cry right now. All that bullshit with that guy at the bar. The shaving. Sure he hadn’t shaved the last few days. And they had stayed in the last two weeks. But he took her to rent a film. He did take her out. Now she was gone. Off to fuck some guy.

"Where are you son?" Tom called as his other son wailed at all the yelling. There was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" He called sceptically.

"Me." Someone called form the other side. He knew the voice well. Though words weren't the most memorable thing that had came out – or in – that mouth. It was Aggie. And she wanted Tom. Without thinking about his children, or the fact he was still reeling from the previous ten orgasm he let her lead him upstairs.

Tom was slowly going insane. That was clear. He was a Petri dish for insane thoughts. Sex, murder it had oh so cleverly wheedled into his mind. Before this all the sex he had was for the purpose of child birth. Now his eyes were opened to a world where people videotaped their exploits and put it onto the internet, were people dressed up as pirates and had fun on a poop-deck, were people tied each other up and whipped one and other. Tom didn’t know what a safe word was. Tom didn’t need to. He would start normal, maybe get the whipped cream form the fridge, maybe tie her to the bed, maybe tie himself, maybe put a pair of tights over his face, it was too much, way too fast for his small mind to take.

Sexual misconduct is all well and good. In a place where the free are free, and the rich are beyond free, people can do what they like. If you have money, weight is just a number, and marriage is only a scrap of paper. When you have money the world is your bitch. Roy knew this, and still does. He knows that with money comes power, and little responsibility, and one who disagrees can tell that to the high class whores on his speed dial (who he is deleting) and the coke dealers he knew twenty years ago.



5 Roy


Roy lay there a while longer, this was the first time he hadn’t used a boner pill in ten years. Lilith wasn't going to work today. They had the day all for themselves. And each other. If someone had said. 'hey Roy this time next year you'll be diddling a fine twenty something' Roy would have called them batshit crazy. But that was the least of his worries. Roy had a heart condition. Probably from his drinking. And also his life up until this point. Being a gangster had its draw backs. Being a retired one, well that had even more dangerous.

Roy had built a world for himself. He had saved enough money, avoided the police enough. Got with the right people. He had been on his way to becoming the leader of a crime family. But things got in the way. Namely a true air to the throne. And his age. But he was still renown for being able to kill people. For all of the goodness he seems to show. He has done horrific things, simply because he was told to.

But that was all behind him now. He had a new life. And although he was pushing sixty. He felt younger. Even more so now because of Lilith. He lit a cigarette. And looked out the window some more. Watching the skyline curving its way around his vision seeming to scream 'draw me like one of your French girls.' He smiled thinly.

Even the best painter wouldn’t be able to capture her beauty. The way he chest rose with each velvet breath. The way her nostrils flared when she was excited. She was dreaming. He was sure of that. And it was a happy dream. He was also sure of that. Because the corners of her mouth rose slightly. And she looked so peaceful.


6 Morgan



The taste of the meal Morgan had cooked was lacking. Not because it wasn't well seasoned. Allot of stuff had been poured into it. But he was losing all taste. His stupidity was made up for the fact that as an actor, he had certain prowess. He had been in a few good films. Won an award. He was staring at one now.

"Allot of fucking good you'll do me now." He grabbed it and threw it at the wall and screamed profanities over and over. He picked up the award again. "You piece of shit. How couldn't you fucking see." Well, aside from missing a chromosome i can't see any reason why he missed the signs.

His wife at this very moment is straddling Tom. Both rutting out a build up over the course of nearly a month of not being near each other. Screaming, crying, they were drowning out the darling butterball children. When they climaxed they lay back. Looked at each other and laughed.


7 Tom and Aggie



"I fucking love you." Tom said.

"I know you do." She replied as his seed dried between her legs. Tom was an investment banker, had allot of money. She had swiped some from Morgan. But to get where she wanted she needed more. SO she would do anything this little man wanted. So she could convince him to take her away from here, so she could bleed him dry, either through his balls, or through his wallet.

"Can we film it, in case i don’t see you again?" He asked, a little bit too eagerly. A fire was in his eyes now. A fire that was more 'i want to tie you up and whip you' rather than 'i want to make love to you' Tom was slowly becoming a warped person. But Agatha will do anything for money. She slept with Morgan for years. So she nodded and made plans. And so did Tom.


8 Roy



Lilith stirred about a second after Tom and Aggie reached orgasm. She got up. Her naked body looking ethereal in the sun light. Her rib cage visible. Almost deathly thin. Yet oddly attractive. She thought about Roy running his fingers down her rib cage. Gently. She didn’t know that he had broken necks with the same hands.

"Moring bright eyes" He said. Almost a husky whisper.

"Morning to you." She got up and embraced him. Kissed him. And went to get her dressing gown. He followed. Watching her ass as he went. Like a horny school boy almost. She did breakfast. It was a version of her normal breakfast which was a tiny bowl of fruit. Except she used Roy's plethora of fruit, making a fruit salad that so big they could have enough to eat of each other later.

"I don’t usually eat fruit for breakfast, but when i do, it's usually you who's made it hon." Roy said as he cracked open his morning beer. She turned and looked disapprovingly. "Im limiting myself to five a day now." He smiled. And so did she. It was still allot, especially at his age. But it was a start. Sadly. Roy meant five beers. He didn’t mention he was also only having five vodka shots, and brandies a day on top of that.

9 Morgan

It had been twenty minutes. Morgan was lying down. He had cut his hands. He had cut his hands by smashing all pictures of his wife. Not only did he smash them, he forced glass into his hand. He bled on her face. He was crying. He was angry. And then his phone rang. He got himself together and answered. "Hello?"

"Parmouth drive, number 38. Be there soon. You will find something very amusing." A very gruff and angry voice yelled at him.

"What the hell?"

"Be there motherfucker." He said. Morgan could hear the spittle flying into the receiver.

Well it couldn't hurt. Well i could actually. Similar calls had appeared in the past. Though Morgan new nothing of them. Being a sheltered good looking young man without a care in the world suited him so well. No one mentioned he received death threats in the mail. And by call. But, he needn't worry his head about that. He got in his car. And simply drove to where he was told. He was good at being told to do things.



10 Tom & Aggie


Tom had gone to get a drink. Aggie was still blindfolded. She was unbound now though. She took of her blindfold. And, remarkably, still seemed to have dignity. She stood up. Some money. She wanted a little bit. The pervert was down stairs. He must have a wallet or something here. So she simply getting the dept for her services. Which at the moment were beginning to be more than she had planned.

He had left the camera on. She didn’t mind. She rooted in his pockets. Nothing. Went into his drawers. She found a pass key. So he had a safe? That was it? So she began to root around. Behind the pop art paintings until she found one with a little box behind it. With a card reader. 'jackpot' she screamed in her own head. She saw it all. Credit cards. Hell she didn’t even need to keep shagging him. She had the mother lode now. She didn’t need him.

She got her bag. She got her clothes on. Cleaned herself up a bit and pilled all the credit cards he had into her bag. Along with two thousand cash. And jewellery that belonged to his wife. As she walked down the stairs she was wearing her earrings, her watch, her bracelet, and even her locket.

Tom was drinking pineapple juice. He was chugging it down. He needed too. What with all the sex he was having, And of course hauling is now sleeping butterball child in. He had found some painkillers and had given him half of one crushed with a Klondike bar. Little fatty ate it before Tom had even set it on his high chair.

When he turned around to see the love of his life, his sexual liberator, his obsession fully clothed with his wife's jewellery the look on his face was that of post orgasmic confusion.

"I didn’t think you liked role play"

"Oh now Tom. This was fun, but i must be going, thanks for the stuff." He grabbed her wrist.

"You're staying here bitch." He growled. He pulled her close and kissed her. She fought away but he slapped her. Her retaliation was a firm kick in the balls. "You bitch...you...cant...leave..." He growled, looking for something. He saw it. A knife. He grabbed it and chased her.


11 Roy



"This fruit salad is amazing." Roy said. He had slipped on boxers and a small silk dressing gown. Partly because he didn’t like to eat naked at the table in front of a woman, partly because he didn’t like the feel of plastic against his bare ass. They were eating. Taking it slow.

"Thank you." Lilith said after her fifth mouthful. They took it slow because Lilith ate better when she matched her pace with someone. It made it easier for her to eat. She didn’t feel like she was pigging out this way. "I like fruit."

Roy smiled. He was enjoying this entire thing. For the first time he was with someone who wanted protection. Or money. To Lilith he was simply the one who she woke up to. Who took care of her. The gentle man. When deep down. He was still a very dark human being. Though he has more self control.

The sun was higher in the sky. It reflected of the juices of the water melon. And Roy thought to himself just how amazing it was when Lilith put that sixth bite to her lips. The glisten. The smile. The look in her eyes as if to say 'i did it, i did it!' He went over and rubbed her shoulders.

"If you can't eat anymore, we can leave it for later."

"One more bite. I think i might be able to manage it." And she did. Then she got up and embraced him. Kissed him. And inevitably, made love to him.

"I think i love you Lilith." Roy whispered as he carried her to the bed.

"Pardon?" She asked, not hearing him over the raising of her fluttering heart.

"Nothing doll." He said. He would wait for a better time to start all of that lovey dovey shit. He placed her down and looked at her. She was so damn young, and looking better and better as she gained more and more weight, soon she would be healthy.

In a way she was like a bird with a broken wing. To Roy he was nursing her back to health. Though at the back of his mind he always has the fear of her leaving. Flying away so to speak for a young wall street yuppie with a small dick and an electric car, with mismatched jacket and trouser combo that was so hip now-a-days.

To her she was still wondering why he was even wasting his time on her. He could get anyone he wanted. More namely someone who was young enough to be his daughter. But this was something she felt transcended age. They had so much in common. And as he kissed her neck and she closed her eyes and thought to herself 'this is a good thing'


12 Morgan, Tom & Aggie



Morgan arrived at the house. The first thing he noticed what that there was a window open. And at the foot of it was a round almost crater like imprint in the grass by it. He parked. Got out and sauntered to the front door. He didn’t notice that there was someone watching him. He didn’t notice the man holding a package. Something that would make or break his life form the moment forth.

He opened the door. Silence. No, not complete. A buzz was in the air. He walked into the kitchen. To big fat children were sat here. Two little, i guess you could call them butter balls. He went up the stairs after his calls out went unanswered.

He found the bed room. He didn’t notice the blood stains on the carpet beneath him. He opened the door. And on the bed were two figures. Both drenched in each other's blood. Tom and Aggie. He immediately threw up that piece of shit scrambled egg onto the floor. And fell back onto the wall tears in his eyes. Horror now filling his capillaries.

On the bed, bound. Was his wife. Her face twisted in fear. He throat and wrists cut, blood soaking her spray tanned skin, hair pulled out, bruised. To her right. A naked man, with similar wounds, with a knife jammed into his face, between the eyes. A bit of brain had settled on his upper lip like a lump of porridge. He had no idea what the fuck happened here exactly. But he had an inkling. This was who his wife left him for. And the guy was obviously a psycho.

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