The tickle and been in her throat all day. She wasn’t sick and she hadn’t eaten anything that would cause her an allergic reaction, but she couldn’t shake it. Nothing had helped her – not tea, not water, no soft foods or crunchy cereal. At least twice an hour she forced out a cough just to try to quell the irritant. Nothing helped.

As the day continued her couching became more aggressive. More and more she felt something lodged there. Catalina had thought about reaching back into her throat and attempting to pull out whatever was nesting in their, but she was at work. At her desk. Surrounded by a group of professionals. Cramming her arm down her throat couldn’t leave a good impression.

Catalina had just finished hacking away when the delivery kid from the mailroom dropped off their departments mail. He gave Catalina a once over, as he usually did, this time with a mixture of sexual intrigue and concern. He had to be in his early twenties, definitely too skinny and quiet to be popular with the ladies. He struck her as the kind of kid who could have gotten in, but had more interest in friendships and girls who never appreciated him back. Usually, normally, Catalina would be another one of those cases. But maybe there was another way to clear her throat. Something a little less conventional. But something that could work nonetheless.

“I’m okay,” Catalina said looking up at the mail guy, “thank you.”

The kid looked confused. Catalina opened her eyes wide and nodded lightly at him.

“Oh,” he said getting it, “you’re welcome! Are you sick?”

“No,” she responded, “just something stuck in my throat.” Catalina blinked her eyes a number of times. She had a feeling the kid watched a lot of porn. Enough, that with the pinch of a miracle he would get where she was going with this. Again he stood there looking at her. Again she widened her eyes, tracing them down the length of his front, and blinking some more. “If anything was going to be in there, I wish it was something better.”

Catalina saw movement. Perhaps real life was like a series of bad pornos. Nodding her head ever so slightly, the kid jerked his shoulders back and forth before responding with silence. He seemed to be clamming up. Catalina tried to mentally will him along. Maybe she was being too forward. “I’m glad it was you who brought the mail today,” she added over softening her voice, “I was actually thinking about you before when I was gasping for air. I’m glad you’re here,” she said sliding her hand across the desk to pick up the pile of mail. Her fingertip over extending to touch his.

Once again he puffed up his check, adjusted his shoulders into a position thought to be a power stance by any clueless man and responded, “I still have a special package to give you.” Catalina bit down on her lip to prevent a burst of laughter. She did her best to make it a sexy type of bite. She wasn’t sure how it translated. Until he spoke again, “where would you like me to put it?”

Catalina was impressed. He hadn’t struck her as the type. But then again, Catalina wasn’t really the type herself. But her throat was being consumed by something. She could feel it. She still wasn’t sick. Giggling, in a sexually appropriate manner as designated by 1950s anything, Catalina followed him down toward the mailroom. There, they were alone. She burst into a fit of coughing to keep the beasts from crawling up her windpipe. She stopped as he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall. He kissed her. Catalina was impressed, both by his boldness and the fact that she liked the feel of his lips against hers. His tongue teasing and parting her lips.

Faster than she could have imagined, Catalina was down on her knees undoing his pants. Clawing at the button and zipper, she was surprised by his bigness. There was nothing descipt about him, nothing extremely large or proud. She would have never guessed that something so thick and long would be hidden in his pants. For a moment Catalina was worried about how all of that was going in, but then she felt the tickle in her throat again. Other than the added bonuses, this would work. It would have to.

Opening her mouth and slowly beginning to take him in Catalina imagined taking this further. Maybe it would be a good time. He seemed like a sweet guy on top of it all. But not too sweet, Catalina thought as she felt his hands grab the back of her head, pulling her forward, sliding himself further back. A screamed pierced through the air, as Catalina began to gag. A warm fluid began sliding down her throat, she was choking. He needed to move, to let her go. Thrashing herself backward Catalina gagged and choked, throwing up as she landed on her butt. The room had gone silent. Opening her eyes she was a bloodied pile of puke, a small heap of what appeared to be hair with two blobs nestled in the middle. Blinking she gagged as the image came into focus. A dark pink, raw-fleshed colored object, the general shape of a bird was clamped to a bright red, bloodied tip.

Catalina looked up. The sound of the room slowly morphing into a noise she knew. The kid looked sheet white and aghast. His mouth was contorted into a strange shape. There was no sound coming out. He looked as though he might pass out. Catalina looked back down at the pile, the pile of puke and blood and hair and flesh and who knew what else, the pile he was about to land on. The dark pink blob disintegrated leaving the tip of his penis, bloodied and alone. As he landed on the floor, Catalina froze. She took a deep breath in. She could breathe again.

Clearly, the itch in her throat had subsided. In fact, she could breathe and swallow better than she could have in days. Looking around the room she thought about what this would do for her career, for her life.

She got up from the cold, dirty mailroom floor and scooted around the heap of mailboy and vomit. She exited the door, composed herself, and headed for the nearest bathroom. Rinsing out her mouth a few times, she did a double check and headed toward the cafeteria. Catalina grabbed herself some broccoli cheddar soup, hot fries, a cup of coffee, and a cookie. Claiming to have forgotten her wallet she threw it on her tab and made her way back to her desk.

For a brief moment Catalina thought about what would happen to the young guy, his fantastic penis that had literally been cut short, and the fact that something living in her throat cut it. Acknowledging that none of that was real life, Catalina sat down at her desk and started dipping her fries into her soup. Soup and salt would make her throat feel better. Soup and salt and nothing more.

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