Requiem for a Dream by Hubert Selby Jr.

. . And then eventually
it does break and its six months later. Like you just got your summer
clothes out and then its Christmas and inbetween there are ten years
of pain. Harry smiled, Jesus, all I said was hello and you give me ya
fingerprint classification. But Im glad youre alright. Marion laughed
and Harry lit a joint and took a couple of quick pokes and handed it
to Marion. Tony started to jerk slightly, his movements involuntary
as he sensed a coming disaster. He was absorbed in the show as much
as possible and wondering how the heavy was going to cool that bad
dude and rip off the broad, pullin for the cat just as hard as
possible, but something in him knew that that goddamn television set
was plotting against him, that it was just layin back and waiting to
getim. He lit his pipe again and took a couple of long pokes then
snuffed the hash and stared at the television, Youd better not fuck
with me ya son of a bitch. Im warnin ya. He stopped twitching and
settled back into his chair and disappeared once again from sight.
Marion chuckled, He really has his own S&M scene going on with
that thing, doesn't he? Yeah. Hes like a guy with a broad who wont
giveim a little. The others were half watching Tony too, and smiling,
enjoying him, as they had many times before, more than anything on
the tube he was watching. You know somethin man, he think thats his
ol lady. Shit, he aint never talked to his ol lady like that. They
laughed and went back to their listening, talking and smoking. Harry
was sort of leaning against Marion as she slowly stroked his head and
played with his hair as they listened to the music. From time to time
he would leisurely reach up and rub the nipple of a boob with his
fingertip, or caress a boob with the palm of his hand, ever so
gently, not through design, but a kind of reverie. He would watch his
fingertip rubbing the protruding nipple and imagine it under her
blouse and think of opening her blouse and kissing it, but it seemed
like too much of an undertaking at the moment and so he postponed it
and just listened to the music and moved with the flow of the
stroking of his head, surrendering deeper and deeper into the sensual
currents it stoked. You know somethin baby, that feels better than a
fix. It really turns me on. I like it too. I have always liked curly
hair. It feels good around the fingers. You cant just push through
like straight hair. It resists. Like it has a life of its own and it
feels exciting when you defeat it, and Marion watched her fingers
going through Harrys hair, watching the ends twist and bob as her
fingers worked their way through, and then she would twirl the hair
with a finger, watching it snap and bounce, then let the hair caress
the palm of her hand then close her fingers and raise her hand slowly
feeling the hair slowly slide between the fingers, her fingers, aware
that she was creating a rhythm to her caressing that was governing
her breathing and then she became a part of the breathing and flowed
into the ripples that tingled through her as Harry rubbed the nipple
of a breast between fingertips, imagining her rosy nipple and how it
would feel between his lips, when Tony started yelling at the goddamn
television again, Youd betta not do it prick. Im warnin ya ya lousy
bastad, Ive had enough a ya shit, and he squirmed in his chair and
peered defiantly at the television screen and Tyrone giggled his
giggle, Ah doan mind him fat mouthin that set, but I sure hope the
muthafucka doan start talkin back toim cause when that happens ah
gotta cut loose this shit and split jim, and he took another good
poke and turned his head so he wouldnt be lookin into the dumbass
grin of Freds who was always doin that, tryin to get him to gag and
spit out the smoke; and somebody broke out some amyl-nitrite and
popped it open and held a finger over one nostril and sniffed deeply
until the popper was grabbed from his hand and the person shoved it
up their nose and squeezed the other nostril shut