I am flying up the stairs of the dorm, noticing a faint, divine scent. I follow it up the stairs as it gets stronger. At the top of the stairs I know what it is, ass. Wonderful, marvelous, sweet ass. I have smelled many asses on summer days, but none as strong and distinct as this ass. People consider themselves connoisseurs of fine cheese or wine. I am a connoisseur of fine ass. I am the fly that can distinguish between Mexican, white, Oriental, and the age of ass, especially if not hindered by soap. All the different cuisines are evident in what is left on the ass. Mexican is definitely my favorite odor, certainly the strongest.
At the door of the lounge I hit the wall, engulfed in a euphoria of ass, it's odor surrounds me completely. There lies a magnificent creature on a couch with the television on. I perch on a wall to admire this being which is emanating the odor of my fantasies. I fly over and land on his forehead.
As he lay there sleeping peacefully I survey what stretches out before me. His face is greasy and covered with volcanoes both large and small, erupting randomly. I am caught in a flow of sticky yellow puss the instant I land. When I make it out I lick myself clean. I continue downward, stepping carefully because one false move could trigger land mines of giant proportions. On the verge of the big crevasse I stare into the murky abyss. I see yellow stained teeth, black rotted teeth, and the remnants of tonight's dinner. His tongue is a white wasteland, covered with white paste. A moist, warm, heavenly current arises regularly from deep within. I move to the other side of the canyon and into a deep dark jungle. It is hard to see here at first but my many eyes soon adjust. Scattered before me is a virtual junkyard, covered by more of last night's dinner, fresh and older, moldy bread. Here too are sporadic volcanoes, hidden by the forest. I fly out of this vast jungle because I know that I could never walk through. I fly on to the vast rolling plains of his stomach. His T-shirt ends at the navel, where I find more bread crumbs which are firmly lodged to the skin by weeks of sweat. Again I move into the forest, though this is not as thickly populated as his chin and neck. This is where I begin to detect signs of cum. After some more reconnaissance I am positive, his entire stomach is lightly coated with cum. There is still some fresh jism in his navel where I pause for a high protein snack. On a whim I fly to his right hand, my guess was right. He uses his right hand to masturbate. Under his nails is a cornucopia of old food, cum, shit, and dirt. These have come together to compose into a black jelly-like substance on which I feast once more, this is desert. Fully satisfied I fly back to his navel. I start my hike to his black frayed jeans. I can easily smell what drew me to this lounge at the very beginning. I wish I had a way into his pants to start my own private feeding frenzy, but his jeans are stretched taut, leaving me no way inside. I fly on to his bare feet landing on the tip of his big right toe. I stand here like the first man to conquer Mount Everest. That man did not have a big ingrown toe nail and canyons filled with toe cheese. I have a little taste of the puss oozing from his nail and the cheese buried on the other side of his toe because I am already full from my previous explorations.
I go back to the wall to digest some of these delicacies with I have engorged myself. Now another walks in, stinking of soap, Zest I think, and some putrid cologne. I fly closer but I have to turn back because my nostrils start to burn when I get within a few feet.
He walks to the man on the couch and unsheathes a huge knife, some kind of Indian ceremonial dagger. Then he slits the other's fucking throat. I can't believe this, the guy on the couch didn't even move. He just lay there bleeding all over the upholstery. The blood coming from his neck is like waves washing onto shore, but a little more rapid and a lot more dramatic. As his heart beats it's last few beats the blood gushes out like out Old Faithful.
The killer turned to see what the dead guy had been watching on the television, it was the sound of sex that got his attention. The movie was American Me, it was the scene where one guy is raping some other guy. When the one raping the man bent over some flower sacks pulls out to cum he unsheathes a fierce Christmas-tree-looking knife. He looks at it, smiles, and shoves it violently up his victim's ass. The scene then ends out with the poor man's fading scream of pain and terror.
Inspired, the killer pulls the dead guy's pants off. His face contorts and twists as he sits down abruptly like a car had dropped on his shoulders. Then it hits me, a tidal wave of ass, I am swimming in it, breathing heavily trying to savor it all.
This is when I realize something. Humans do not like the smell of ass. Then I also recognize that face. I saw a milder form of the same expression earlier that day at McDonald's. A Pepsi delivery driver was standing in line behind a wonderfully scented old woman, though not as strong as the dead guy in the lounge. His face looked similar to what I just saw, displeased and uncomfortable. I guess humans who possess a basic knowledge of hygiene don't like the smell of humans who lack it completely.
I couldn't hold back any longer, I had to get a little taste of this dead guy so I fly on to his choad. This area is well populated by pubes, each one curiously bent over from the weight of little shitballs on their tips. I almost pass out from the excitement of having finally reached heaven's gate. Suddenly the guy, having recovered from the ass tsunami, starts swatting at me with his knife leaving bloody, little cuts wherever I was. I take off because I can wait now that I have seen the other side. The guy now takes his knife and shoves it straight up the dead guy's ass and twists it around. From where I am I can hear the flesh ripping and tearing. When he withdraws his knife, it is followed by a mudslide of gigantic proportions. The entire room is soon filled ten times over with the overpowering odor of fresh, runny shit. As the killer is holding his nose he takes the dead guy's Universal Remote and sticks it in his ass, pushing it further in with his knife. He walks out calm and collective, when he is outside he breaths a big sigh of relief and takes a big breath of air.
Now it is time for me to do a little spelunking. I fly to the gaping mouth of the cave. Behind me is an alluvial fan of shit and before me gapes a huge cavernous opening. I take a deep breath and start inside. There are many fissures in the floor left by the knife. Half of the time I am knee-deep in a sticky mix of shit and blood. Up ahead, just past the remote, I can see a shiny brown wall. I must find out what lies behind that wall. I begin to chop away at the wall, hoping it is not to deep. Suddenly I am flying backwards at a tremendous pace, I am surrounded by hot, wet gases that would ignite with a spark and char me leaving an empty exoskeleton. Even I am overwhelmed with the smell, let alone my rapid ascent towards the mouth of the cave. I am finally blown clear of the cave and I land against the wooden arm of the couch, stunned. I fall down into the pile of shit, here I regain my senses. When I finally get back my composure I fly to the door and outside. I have to find some of my fly friends to take advantage of this opportunity laying there in the television lounge of the dorm.
I wonder if the killer will ever get caught, I hope not because he provided me with a first class gourmet meal.