50 Shades of Cal
The day started as any other would.
I forgot to set my alarm last night, but my clock doesn't work as it is missing one AAA battery. Been missing for weeks.
I used it in the remote control of a toy micro-helicopter, which inevitably broke the day I bought it.
So regardless of the alarm being set or not, I would still sleep in.
Still, sometimes it's nice to pretend you have a working clock.
Chicks dig it.
Anyway, it was 9:33am.
I have this rule about only getting out of bed when the clock is zeroed, or at 30 minutes past. That is, multiples of 30 minutes. This was no exception.
So I had 27 minutes left in bed, sweet.
Anything more than 6 minutes being the right amount of time to do that thing that guys do.
I turned on the TV and the freeview box booted up.
It automatically tunes itself to the channel you last viewed, so for me this was a bright blue screen, with text in the middle.
That text reading -
'BabeStation will return at 9pm.
Stay tuned ;)'
I had to make do with whatever I could find on TV at this time.
On the morning in question, I judged the possible materials to be:
- Kim Possible
- This Morning (featuring Holly Willoughby)
- Futurama (a Fry / Bender heavy episode, little appearance of Leela or Amy)
Out of curiosity, I quickly flicked onto Kim.
She was beating the shit out of Dr Drakken, kind of hot violence.
However, she was wearing a huge black ninja-style get-up.
Flicked over to This Morning, Holly was on, score!
Although it was an episode about the dangers of sexual transmitted infections, Holly said the words 'penis' and 'balls' in the same sentence.
That was all it took.
I got up a couple minutes later and wiped the curtains clean.
I had that grubby 'post-whack' feeling.
The feeling that I should probably wash, or look for a job, or have a bowl of Special K to feel civilized again.
I went over to my now fully charged iPhone and checked for texts and tweets.
I know what you're thinking,
'Why not just watch porn on your phone?'
Yes, good question.
I've recently moved house, and my signal is only strongest near the BT HomeHub.
'Why not just enable 3G?'
Am I fuck going to enable 3G.
But anyway, I'd got two texts and one Twitter notification.
The latter was that I was now being followed by 'GyuDfif616', who's profile picture was the Twitter egg.
Blatant robot account.
Didn't care. 81 followers now, bitches.
One text was from a friend at work asking for the 4 back I borrowed.
I deleted the text, following the guy logic of 'Ignore it, and it will go away'.
Dude, it's 4, move the fuck on.
The other text was from my best friend.
"sup, gt the day off, cm 2 myn chil. bring ur ps3 controler"
He had the day off work now, and was wondering if I wanted to hang out.
Sure! I thought. Beats trying to clean the curtains all day.
And plus, I never like handing about 'post-whack' because the cat always seems to look at me as if it knows something pretty grim has just went down.
I found some boxers that I had worn a few times so far this week, but they didn't stink so in my eyes they were clean as a whistle. A whistle that I had been wearing while at the gym. Chucked on a T-shirt that read:
'Luke, I Am Your Father'
Chicks dig that too.
I got to my friends around half an hour later.
It would have been only 5 minutes, but the corner shop near him sells Lucozade for 2.10. Whereas the Tesco a few streets in the other direction sells 2 for 2.
I would give the other to my friend.
I'd be getting cheap electrolytes, and appear considerate and caring to my friend.
The guy in that corner shop can take his Creme Egg offer and go fuck himself.
I stepped into his house, and he told me he was just going to jump in the shower for half an hour or so. I couldn't blame him, he smelled like bed farts.
I went i.nto the front room to chill and watch some TV.
As I was savoring the taste of my CHEAP Lucozade, his sister walked in.
Before I go any further, let me assure you, she was legal.
I think she was 17. I was 25.
That age situation there - (17 and 25) - can be likened to people who masturbate while in a noose, simulating being hanged.
It's not illegal, but equally not the kind of thing you want the police knowing about.
But yeah, she totally wanted me.
She said to me;
'Have a nice day!'
Look at that again.
The word 'Day' begins with a 'D'.
So does 'Dick'.
She was totally wanting my dick.
SO. I stand up, and pull down my jeans.
I would have unzipped first, but the zip's broken.
Not even sure how. How does something like that even happen?
I started to kiss her, to keep her distracted.
I had forgotten I need a minute or two to get some bloodflow to the meat-smith.
It's got to look as if it's respectable size all the time, when really it's pretty damn pathetic overall.
She went down on me.
I dont know if she knew she was doing this, but I could feel her teeth, and it hurt like crazy.
I wasn't going to offend her, I'm a very considerate person, and anyway she was my best friend's sister! I had to be nice.
I just leaned back, closed my eyes and thought about how I would do if I were on the gameshow The Cube.
After getting somewhat frustrated that I couldn't imagine myself getting any further than rolling a ball down a narrow platform towards some skittles, I pulled her up off the floor.
(I'm really half decent with things like that, co-ordination and so forth. But in front of an audience? I'd buckle and I know I would. I wasn't prepared to lie to myself.)
I asked her if we could go somewhere more private.
She suggested the kitchen, so we went there.
She was microwaving a spaghetti-based ready meal, and the smell hit me like a train.
Dont get me wrong, I love that smell, it's a good meal with a fair price.
But when we're about to bang?
She hadn't even stirred it half way through, just the full 9 minutes.
We went into the shed instead.
If Ross Kemp thinks walking around gangland territory is hard work,
try maintaining an erection while you can see actual spiders on the ceiling.
There were things lying around everywhere, it was a shed after all.
Bikes, old cushions, clothes, old curtains, empty hamster cages.
We took up a very uncomfortable standing position, with her using the old box of a George Foreman Grill for balance.
I was getting a cramp in my left calf, and was trying not to fall over and hit the broken washing machine.
My game is pretty solid, 3-4 minutes, depending on ambient temperature.
It was just a shed, so she got the whole 4 minute game, lucky her!
I pulled out, and a whole platoon of my Starship Troopers hit the old curtains.
Always the curtains. Just as I was pulling my boxers up, I had a cheeky little laugh at the curtains yet again being the victims in this situation.
The microwaved spaghetti-based ready meal 'dinged', as if to offer a warning.
The second we got back in the house, my friend was just getting out of the shower!
We chilled, it was cool.
We played Call of Duty for a couple of hours, he almost got a Tactical Nuke, but he was a couple of kills short.
Still though, 23 kills is pretty sick.