Geoff stood in Lorraine's kitchen, drunk and lusting, slowly swaying
around in a circle, like a child's spinning top, once eagerly spun now
coming to a slow stop, or more accurately, swaying like a drunken
feckless Northern cunt, which is exactly what he was. Lorraine had gone
to the toilet, now regretting that chicken dhansak that was playing
havoc with her arsehole, an arsehole, it should be noted, that Geoff
wanted to drill like a pile driving device on a building site.
Lorraine
tried in vain to freshen up, daubing talc on her messy organ, which
looked a little bit like a young David Gower after a head first fall
15ft onto a large lump of flint. As she poofed the white powder, a fart
crept out making a tiny white cloud, she rushed to the toilet realising
that she was “turtles head” except this turtle had come a cropper in a
large blender. As she sat and strained a large fart hailed the coming of
a hot stream of magma hot post curry shit, she tried to stifle the arse
grunt with a cough but this just made her fart again, the entire
ensemble sounded like an angry brown bear stubbing its paw on a well
build art deco style sideboard. Geoff heard, but was so busy thinking
about turning Lorraine's fanny into a hairy chicken kiev.
Lorraine
was firing out hot chocolate now in pulse and was worried that she
might shit herself if she had sex with Geoff, it was too late to go back
now and thankfully the heiny heaving ceased and she now only had to
deal with the smell, which was a bit like a Bombay riverside massacre on
a hot day. She sprayed impulse, hair and fly spray and even lit a
match, making sure her cloud like perm was well clear of any of the
naked flame. She left the toilet ashamed but knowing she had done her
best to mask the arse hell. She made small talk coming out of the
toilet, “It would never have lived, its eyes were too close together”,
chortling nervously. Geoff too needed the loo, but being a boring
typical and usually racist chicken Tikka type, his guts were better off,
as he entered the toilet the mix of various chemicals hit him hard,
like the Kurds that time. He instantly began to wheeze and realised he
had left his asthma inhaler in the car next to his cigarettes, trouble
was, his car had been destroyed in a fire 5 years earlier. Geoff wheezed
and farted his way through a horses piss of semi filtered Mild ale.
While
he was in there he started to have a little kneed with his balls and
prick trying to get the blood going, it was like a sad reproductive
smaller scale version of the pottery scene from the film Ghost (God rest
your soul Swayzee, I love you). Not much was happening in Geoff's
nether regions, and this wasn't the first time. Nervously Geoff left the
toilet, a final fart following him like some weird arse stalker, he too
made small talk, “fuck me, if this smell hangs around much longer it
will end up claiming asylum” laughing, Lorraine laughed nervously and
offered Geoff a drink, she went to her scantly stocked fridge and
offered him a small can of beer, she poured herself a large tia maria.
There
was awkwardness, the electricity of the factory flirting was now
replaced by the reality of how little they actually knew each other,
Geoff had been married before and Lorraine had had a few men come and
go, literally, nobody ever stayed until the morning after firing their
balls baggage up her. Eventually they both made their move, at exactly
the same time, moving in and donking there foreheads, reeling back and
composing themselves Lorraine grabbed Geoff's hand and led him towards
her bedroom, Geoff wheezed as he passed the toilet which still smelt of a
mix of eastern spices, hot shit and beer fart. His penis was
practically internal.
Lorraine's bedroom was decorated in the
manner of a woman who was no good at keeping a bloke, her bed was
adorned with stuffed toys from her childhood and loads of toot
everywhere, pointless keepsakes and other such shit that make some men
such misogynists. Geoff paid no mind to this childless bullshit, bent
down to put his small beer on the floor, farting as he did and saying
“more tea vicar” and started to take his brown high polyester content
going out suit off. Linda was removing her dress, her un-sun kissed lard
coloured skin with several large moles did enough to distract Geoff
from her horrid off white bra and knickers, Geoff took down his pants,
that were that were sadly the only garment he was wearing that wasn't
brown, they were in fact also off white, the off white was actually
brown, a skid mark from an over ambitious fart. He tried to hide this
from Lorraine but she saw as he pulled them down, he quipped “me pants
have got go faster stripes” thrusting his hips and making an ohh sound
as he did, breathing some life into his comatose organ which looked like
a forlorn Kojak looking dejected and at the floor while wearing an
awful baggy prawn coloured roll-neck.
Lorraine pulled her knickers
down her pubic hair region was large and unkempt and looked somewhat
like a Roman Spartan defending off an attack from a Yeti with his
shield. Lorraine lay on the bed, there was still no life downstairs, the
penis was acting like it was having a relaxing evening on a pair of
large beanbags and had taken the phone off the hook. Geoff decided to
bide some time while going down on Linda, he gently pulled her legs
apart looking at her fanny which breathed out it odour in the manner of
Darth Vader taking his helmet off to reveal the head of a cod. Geoff
tentatively stuck his tongue out, like an ill dog pondering over eating
its own shit. He received a small alkaline shock as his tongue touched
her crèche kebab. This wasn't going to help re-establish contact with
his coitus claw, which hung lifelessly between his legs. He ran his
tongue up and down, Lorraine moaned, but it was akin to the moaning of
fat matriarchal type moaning that the rubbish hadn't been put out. Geoff
thought dirty thoughts and finally he got a line through to his penis
which answered tired and effortlessly like a pole vaulter on a final
jump managing to vault under the bar, there was some life in it and
Geoff concentrated hard and imagined he was on a hot beach eating a
mackerel flavoured cornetto. Suddenly he was in business and now there
was enough saliva and asthmatic phlegm on her cunt to garner entry. He
moved up, trying to be like a puma on the prowl across her shapeless
body, but managing to look like a Labrador cross wrenching in the final
throes of distemper.
As he moved up Lorraine had a bit of a curry
cramp and moved her leg sharply, kneeing Geoff right in the balls. The
erection retreated like Italian soldiers in WW2 and suddenly Geoff was
back where he started, trying to salvage the erectile remnants.
Eventually Geoff managed to summon enough to get something inside her
and he heaved away on top of her, he pulled out at the final minute to
spray his Muller yoghurt over her woeful breasts, he watched down as the
piteous streams came out of his half awake member. Opening his eyes and
looking down, he realised that the muller yoghurt was actually a fruit
corner, he gasped and realised that there was blood in his semen.
Lorraine shrieked and ran to the bathroom to clean the ghastly effluent
off. Geoff instantly went into a high state of anxiety about prostrate
cancer and considered a cab home.
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