Michael picked Asa up from the airport. They hadn’t seen each other in three months and she had been on a plane for twelve hours so they didn’t waste any time, they went straight back to the house.
They took her luggage into the bedroom and then they took turns using the bathroom. Michael found her sitting on the edge of the bed when he returned.
“What should we do now?” he asked.
Michael smiled and unbuttoned his shirt and let the two sides of his shirt hang open.
“How bad do you want it?”
Asa cracked her knuckles.
Michael grasped the hole side and the button side and folded the two halves back until his shoulders were exposed.
“Yay,” said Asa.
Then Michael turned around and looked back into the mirror above the dresser back at Asa.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked.
Asa nodded eagerly.
Michael threw back the shirt halves and twisted his arms inwards and let the damned thing fall off his torso. His back was dotted with all manner of pimples. There were two dozen or so ready to pop.
“Oh my God,” Asa said. Then, “Let’s get it on.”
Michael walked over to the foot of the bed and climbed up onto it and laid face down on the blanket. Asa got on the edge of the bed on her knees, body bent forward over Michael, and placed her hands on his back.
“I don’t know where to start,” she said.
Asa chose the right shoulder blade. Pimple by pimple she worked her way down Michael’s back. She would pop only the ready ones, in one smooth, fluid motion, and leave the trail of pus beside the crater like spent confetti.
She had popped twenty pimples before she noticed how much he was bleeding. Asa had neglected to dab the pimples. She grabbed some toilet paper and laid it down in balls atop the bubbles. Soon they were soaked red.
“That felt so good,” said Michael. “I could take a nap.”
Asa replaced the old toilet paper balls with new toilet paper balls but they only became soaked through as well.
“Is this normal?” Asa asked.
Michael didn’t hear her. He had drifted off somewhere else.
Asa tried to shake him awake first and when that didn’t work she went and got a cup of water and splashed him in the face. Then she decided to panic.
“I popped too many pimples,” she told the 911 operator.
An ambulance came and took him away. A paramedic rode in the back with them, checking Michael’s vital signs.
“What were you two doing in there?” he asked Asa.
She didn’t know what to say.
“Was it a sex thing?”
Michael had to get a blood transfusion. Asa was sitting by his hospital bed when he regained consciousness.
He glanced down at the IV in his arm and then up at Asa. He smiled weakly and told her that he had missed her.
This story was written by Lee Blevins, who is an open micer with a fast approaching expiration date for his hair. He sometimes tweets @BleeSevens.