Erotic fiction and short sex stories

New stories daily

Dirty Bitch: A Novel


'Do you Darren Speck take this beautiful fuckin' fine-ass piece of cherrypie to be your beautiful fuckin' lawful wedded wife, booooooy,' said the geezer of a priest, doing some hip thing with his fingers at the end. 'Booooy!' he repeated; and straight after that he did a groovy little moonwalk across the stage, his gleaming black shoes gliding smoothly across the floor.

'Yes I mother fuckin' do,' I said. Man, I was fuckin' out of it by then, pissed up to the bone on Blue Moon Ale. And on my wedding day as well. Fucking shameful lol!

'And do you, Victoria Traseuh, take this fresh mother fucker Darren Speck – former lone wolf of Norwich city – to be your lawful wedded husband? Well do ya girl??'

Looking at me soon-to-be-missus next to me, some drool came rolling down his chin in barrels, a look that conveyed: 'Man, I wanna fuck that bitch in the back!'

'I do,' said Victoria, all dreamily and shit, like she thought she was in some Hollywood romance movie. Haha, sheaht!

'Well then, put a ring on it ay Darren. But use a condom!' Then the priest began laughing hysterically like some fat fuck after a couple of tokes of fine-ass Jamaican herb. 'Haha, no seriously Darren mate. Put a fuckin' ring on the doll's face, ay, before I decide I have to pound her one.'

I was so fucking out of it that I almost couldn't put the gold ring that was in my hand on Victoria's finger, and I felt the tips of them tremble and twitch as I proceeded to hand out the ring. But I successful did it, and instantly felt hard at the sight of Victoria's white, even-toothed smile. Boy, them teeth.

'Now you can kiss and then fuck each other's brains out later. Man I'm getting hard just thinking about that.' The priest fiddled about with the outline of his stiff cock in in his trousers with his fingers and appeared to day-dream at the lecherous fantasies that were patently boiling up in his head.

At those words, both me and Victoria shared a great smooch of a French kiss, I mean a real tongue twister of a one, and I felt that rush of lust expand my cock in my boozed up body, like the priest's but only less dam noticeable.

'Oh get a fucking room will you two!!' yelled my mother from the seats.

I withdrew my mouth from Victoria's and after licking my lips looked over at my charming mother. Along with my best-man Jamie, who was passed out drunk on the floor a couple of feet from me after taking a shit-load of vodka before he arrived, my mother was one of the two guests there, and it made the little event seem more intimate for me and my bird, whose own parents were somewhere in Russia I believe (not that I'd ever fucking met the cunts).

Very shortly later, my mother got up off her seat and approached me and Victoria on the stage, where flinging her arm around me she gave me a congratulatory pat on the back and nodded. 'Well done son, married. You fucking twat. But anyway, I wish you and the Russian doll the best of luck. And enjoy the £25,000 you've got from the sale of my house. Man, if I'd known it was going to take 25 grand to get you little shit out of my life, I would have sold the place a long, long time ago. Either that or drowned you at birth.'

I smiled and gave my mother a warm look. 'Thanks mum, me and Victoria will be very happy.'

'Ha, course you will in that fucking bedsit of yours.' But then the croon smiled and turned her attention to Victoria.

'Good luck ay, you two deserve each other.'

I knew very well the mean-spirited semantics of my mother's comment, but Victoria naively saw a good hearted meaning and instead smiled affably.

'Oh thanks Mary, sweet of you to say.'

My mother smiled, as if she thought Victoria was a right dozy bint, and then, nodding, turned around to walk away.

'And now to suck off my own piece of eye-candy.'

And that was the last I saw of my mother. She fucked off out of the reception; and I haven't seen her since.

Victoria gazed adoringly into my eyes and proceeded to give me another sloppy, tongue-twisting smooch, while the priest, some white ear-phones now plugged into his ears, began doing some crazy-ass dance in the background, his feet strutting upon the stage like it was a 70's dancefloor.

Meanwhile Jamie, the fucking idiot, was practically unconscious on the floor. But then I heard him groan a little, and he began to wake up from his evident comatose.

'You still with us then,' I said, looking shamefully down at my intoxicated 'best-man'.

'Darren,' came the dick's reply, steadily standing himself up, his hands at his sides to balance himself. 'Must have passed out for a sec. Did I miss anything?'

I just shook my head in more prevailing shame. 'You fuckin' idiot, course you missed something. Me and Victoria have just been married, you twat.'

'Oh, that's awesome,' said Jamie. And he then drunkenly flung his arms around both me and Victoria and rattled us both in his way of showing his congratulations. 'Man and wife ay! Congratulations!!' His yelled the last word right in my ear, with an immediate bout of tinnitus shaking up in my eardrum.

I shook my head and got back to gazing lovingly into my bride's eyes.

'I love you my beautiful piece of Russian cheesecake.'

'Me too,' said Victoria.

'Now come on, let's go on our honeymoon and fuck our brains out like rabbits.'

Victoria smiled cheekily, and I saw that glossy tongue of hers hover past her upper lip.

'Oh, can I come too?' said Jamie, all excited like.

'No you cannot,' I said.


'No, she's my bird Jamie, get your own.'

'Oh come on, I'll just sit in the corner and watch you two fuck.'

'No,' I said, nodding firmly once.

'Oh very well.'

Then, breathing out, Jamie looked about the place rather gormlessly. 'Man, where's the John Smith around here ay, I'm firsty.'

I got back to gazing into Victoria's eyes, and right then and there we shared our sweetest sourire yet.

'My beautiful angel.'


Victoria's lipstick left a faint mark on the rim of the glass, and as I stood there staring at the pale red, a colour which shone neon in my eyes, I thought nothing other than the feel of her lips on my throbbing cock. I could still feel the pleasure linger from when she'd sucked it 10 minutes earlier in the hotel restaurant's toilets. There had been a couple of older women powdering their noses or something at the sink while Victoria had been kneeling down in the cubicle, devouring my gaping cock and balls like a fuckin' champess. And it was as I came in thick, laver-like spurts that I thought rather inappropriately, albeit humorously, about a segment in the UK television sitcom Men Behaving Badly, a part where Tony yelled out, 'BANANARAMA!' during a thunderous orgasm, and as I climaxed in Victoria's angelic mouth that clip came to me, and I mentally shouted the word out.

'BANANARAMA!' I yelled, my eyes closed and my head tilted up as I felt the thrill of the violent cumming, an orgasm of pure delight, with Victoria sucking all of the white jelly-like cum out of my stiff old todger. I almost wanted to laugh at the sounds of the older women outside chatting about antiques, a cheeky smile forming out of my lips as I opened my eyes.

After Victoria had swallowed and released her head from my crotch region, I shared a devilish smile with her, our eyes both meeting, and really felt fucking turned on at the thought of those two old hags outside who were totally oblivious to the sloppy blow-job I'd just cheekily received. 'Haha, cheeky,' I thought, a Homer-Simpson-like voice in my head.

'Victoria, what a blow that was,' I said, crudely.

My beautiful missus allowed herself to smile, rather devilishly, and then, with her fingers sleekly rearranging her fine dark hair, got up off her knees and moved over to the cubicle door. 'Come on,' she said, flipping the lock open and swiftly descending out into the room. 'Let's have some wine in the restaurant.'

'Yes, more wine is needed,' I said, following her, and staring amorously at her perfectly pert posterior, such a pleasant sight that I almost didn't see the two old bints by the sink giving me a hostile look. One of them had her hands on her hips and was blowing more air out of her nostrils than she probably normally would.

'Excuse me,' the lady then said, proper middle-class-wanker style.

I registered the old bat's words and glanced her way.

I have to admit I was actually surprised with her appearance, caus she was quite a dam sexy woman: a purple glittery dress for main clothing; a nice heart-shaped arse, kind of like a pair; and a pair of voluptuous tits that were pushed up in her dress to make them look even more massive. Man, I could have had some fun with those pillows.

But, despite her mild sexiness, I think the wrath of menopause was taking its toll on her because she frowned at me and said, 'You really shouldn't be in here, should you?'

'Now come on,' I said, Victoria busy pushing the room's door open, 't'was just a blow-job, t'was all. Nothing like a cheeky blow in the toilets, haha.'

The women both shook their heads, and as they turned back towards the sink mirrors, pissed off in their bint-faced temperaments, I followed Victoria out into the hotel dining area.

So there I back was, staring at the rim of the glass that Victoria had left there when she'd had enough of the night and wanted to sleep. But although she may have decided she'd had enough of the night and the wine etc., I was still very much awake and feeling my rampant sexual desire return in a bubbly burst of the stuff.

'Fuckin' wine always does that to me,' I thought, gliding my hand against the shaft of my penis, not caring if any of the other guests or staff saw me. 'Wine makes me want to fuck all sorts of people: midgets, ladyboys, man, even public schoolboys if they look feminine enough.' I tell you, I would have fucked a dog with a strap-on if somebody had asked me to do so in a drunken dare. I really fuckin' would have I tell ya. I thought about all things taboo and exciting. 'Dogs, strap-ons,' I mumbled, inebriated to the absolute maximum and leaning back in my chair. 'Oh Victoria, how I'd like to dress you up like some ripe school girl and fuck you from behind while I spank you with a ruler you dirty fucking bitch.'

Yes, it seemed that the lust was definitely becoming too much for me, and after a short while I couldn't take it anymore, I absolutely couldn't; so I got up, and with nothing but the intention of semi waking Victoria up and shoving my cock into her sleepy, dry mouth on my mind, I fucked off down the room and in the direction of the stairs.

'My cock'll wetten that mouth of hers,' I thought, already picturing my balls gliding against Victoria's petal-like lips. Meanwhile, as I thought all this, I passed a couple of staff members, who both looked at me like I was the biggest cunt in the hotel; they had their arms folded and both had that beady little eye look to their faces, like little raisins lodged incongruously into a cake.

'You lot are right,' I said loudly, 'I am a cunt. I am a cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, that's what I am.'

If I could recall correctly in my far-from-sober and clear-headed state, the staff members, who all coincidentally happened to be male, had their mouths kept tactfully shut – hotel policy maybe? – and just casually looked about the place, one young sailor boy lookalike starting to whistle in that obvious discomfort.

'Well, I tell you all, now I am gonna shove my cock and balls into my girlfriend's mouth. She's Russian you know, a real good fuck.'

One of the chaps even displayed an obliging smile, his eyes narrowing like a panther's as he leaned forwards against the bar. He was the only one of those cunts who seemed in anyway relaxed. And I liked him for it, I really did.

So, I hastily got to mine and V's room and descended through into the lamp-lit chambre, a beautiful, mellow ambience defined by glowing auburn wood.

'Oh Victoria,' I whispered, like some caring but cheeky grandfather as I closed the door ever so gently shut. And it was amongst the light glow from the lamp in the room that I saw the Russian beauty sleeping nude with a blanket sheathed daintily over her back, her ample breast cleavage just discernible as she lay exactly how I envisioned her to be, supine on the bed in that sultry position that always made my cock feel like a North Korean rocket launcher ready for firing, with spurts of jizz for flame-heavy ammunition. 'Oh Victoria,' I whispered again.

Slowly I moved forwards, pulling off my black blazer in the process, and heard the girl make a slight sleepy groan with her voice brief, but resonating, gentle, but powerful.

'Don't worry Victoria, I'm not going to disturb you girl, I promise.'

I got up close to Victoria's face, gazing down at her sleepy, cherubic visage, and with gradual movements began unzipping my fly, the metal segments coming down with no force whatsoever. Then, with my cock relatively hard, I gripped my todger in the palm of my hand and started to position it in-between Victoria's sensual lips.

'Wow,' I muttered to myself, 'I love them lips. Them lips good lips girl.'

The gorgeous woman was certainly still asleep, but by that point I didn't give a fuck, I just wanted some major sexual stimulation, some harmless, brief SEXUAL GRATIFICATION; and nothing could stop the yen I had for her. So placing my hand around the back of her head, I started thrusting my cock through her lips like a thief's hand to a purse and after getting her mouth sufficiently open for penetration with my other hand I managed to get my cock in. And once it was a quarter of a way through, it felt fucking great I tell ya, like a shower of angel cunt juice splattering over my head like a squeezed sponge.

'Oh yea Victoria,' I said, closing my eyes and tilting my head up towards the ceiling like I'd done earlier in the cubicle; I almost wanted to deepthroat her but I didn't: obviously I couldn't go that far. 'Oh it feels so good Victoria, your lips are like Jane Mansfield's. No, more modern than that. Like Anna Nicole Smith's that's whose. Oh Anna Nicole Smith, you beaut of a woman.'

I thrust my cock rather gently back and forth into sleeping beauty's mouth and despite a frenzy of extreme mother fuckin' randiness, I still found myself feeling quite limp and lacking in virility. 'Oh well,' I thought, 'wine always does that to me. Not to worry though. I guess it's better this way. Yes, better.'

I nodded, not letting my rather pathetic semi get to me, and with my thighs and backside pulsating in drunken energy, I shook my todger about in her mouth like I was brushing her teeth with a cock-brand toothbrush, her gums feeling warm like melting jelly. 'I'm gonna fucking come,' I said, my eyes still closed and a swarm of perspiration turning my face florid and clammy. 'I'm gonna cum in your mouth girl. I'm gonna ... cum.'

You'd think that Victoria would have woken up by then, but oh no, she was still very much asleep and in touch with her dreams; in fact, I swear I could even hear her snoring (either that or I was somehow cutting off her air supply with my constant thrusting).

'Any such thing as sleep swallowing?' I muttered humorously, rubbing my fingers through her Barbie-like hair, imagining a time when I was a young boy and I did a similar thing with my sister's makeup doll-head. 'Well let's find out shall we?'

And then, with a violent groan involuntarily springing from my mouth, I let a load of sickly jizz seep like droplets of piss from an incontinent bladder into Victoria's mouth. 'You dirty bitch,' I said. Man I felt like Pierre Woodman in the conclusion of one of his classic, magnificently erotic casting sessions as I pushed my cock and balls right forwards with a gusto, my lower stomach pressing into her nose, her snoring intensifying with minor blockage.

'Wo yeaaa!,' I said, my orgasm reaching an abrupt end like it always did, and my eyes opening like the sped up footage of a blossoming flower. 'Like a ticket to Venice t'was that.'

I laughed a little and then, breathing out, looked down at Victoria, her angelic self still cast away in some unknown, foreign dream, before slowly removing my alcohol drenched slug of a cock from her mouth. After that I allowed my eyes to absorb the sight of a thick trail of cum that oozed from the corners of her lips like toothpaste, a pearly, glow-in-the-dark white.

'That was great Victoria, just great, you were superb.'

I took one more look at the seeping cum, now staining the pillow like grease, and headed off to the small bathroom compartment around the side of the room to get some tissues.

It was as I gently soaked up some of the cum from her mouth, gently dabbing the tissues on her lips, that sleeping beauty finally started to wake up.

'Dar ... Darren,' she said, her eyelids slowly lifting up and her voice groggy in a somnolent haze.

'Yes, my beautiful strawberry cheesecake,' I said, still dabbing at those cum-glossy lips. Mmm mm, them lips.

Victoria stared at me, confused. 'What ... what are you doing?'

'You're drooling a little sweetheart,' I said, dabbing and staring in a caring fashion at her, like a father to a sacred young daughter.

'Oh no, did I?' Victoria seemed slightly embarrassed, for she obviously thought it was such an unwomanly thing to do; unlike me who couldn't have given a tossing fuck even if she'd pissed herself.

'Yea, but don't worry darling. This stuff happens a lot. You've consumed a lot of wine as well.'

A small, but sweet, smile overpowered Victoria's face and as if calmed by my words she allowed herself to gently close her eyes again.

'That's right, you get back to sleep my little angel.'

'Darren? Why don't you come to bed as well.'

'I'll join you in a bit sweetheart,' I said, scrunching up the tissues and tossing them over into an obscure corner of the room for the staff to mop up later on. 'But right now I'm going to have some more wine before the catering closes.'

'Ok Darren, don't be too long though.'

'Don't worry baby, I won't. Anyway, sweet dreams.'

Victoria smiled once more and as she gently closed her eyes I sauntered off out of the room with intentions of consuming more wine and maybe fucking one of those older birds in the back: the very thought made me rub my hands together and grin devilishly. 'Dirty, dirty women,' I laughed.


If it hadn't been for the great, pleasure-heavy sex that I was having on a regular fucking basis with my beautiful Russian girlfriend Victoria, then the honeymoon we were on, in all frankness, would have been a complete waste of fucking time, a pointless fuckfest which just went to support my theory that the only thing a man really needs in life is to have a good supply of alcohol, a good woman to fuck, and some nice illicit drugs to get off ya' fuckin' rocks on. Yea man!

Victoria, however, disagreed with my theories and ideologies on hedonism, and in opposition liked all of the things that I didn't give a mother fuckin' Jimmy Saville about: sandy beaches with smooth turquoise seas; mainstream fucking pop-music by rich cunts whose throats I'd love to slash; materialism of the mulberry kind; all of the stuff that I wouldn't hesitate to release a load of bile-infested vomit onto. Well fuck that shit.

But anyway, what Victoria wanted, Victoria fucking got; and it was at the sandy Tenerife beach resort that Victoria and I had been having our honeymoon on that I found myself laying on my back on a beach towel, with Victoria, relaxed in a prostrated position in a purple bikini, by my side as she read from some shite of a woman's magazine (Cosmopolitan I think, or was it cunts galore I wonder?? Probs cunts galore). In the distance, a – what some would say – gorgeous, brisk sea could be seen with a couple of seagulls having there own little joyride on, but I wasn't interested in that pointless sight. Oh no, my eyes were fixed solely on Victoria's dam sexy body: that peachy fuckin' derriere; that lightly tanned back, still fortunately undamaged by the sun's fierce UV rays; and those fuckin' womanly legs of hers. Dam, I could have licked every inch of that sultry, nectarious skin; I could have eaten me dinner of her tush for fuck sake it was that mother fuckin' erotic.
'Victoria, I'd love to eat my dinner off your tush,' I said, gazing at that beautiful fucking heart-shaped arse, and trying to ignore this bunch of teenage tossers who, being the only other people currently there on the beach, were to the left of the beach tossing a ball back and forth to each other, their rambling little voices accentuated by some real fuckin' gay laughs. Bunch of bum chums they were.

'Goodness, you're so obsessed with sex, aren't you Darren?' said Victoria, shaking her head.

'I just think you got a beautiful tush girl,' I said, managing to perceive the outline of her arse-crack through the semi-translucent material of her bikini. (And it was a mighty fine arse-crack I tell ya.)

'Is that all that matters to you, my tush?'

'Girl, you everything I want in a woman. Nice tits, nice arse, nice stomach cleavage, nice legs, nice lips, nice eyes, your brain ain't too bad either.'

'Well that's nice of you to say that you like my brain.'

'I love your brain girl. It's like venus the goddess' that's what it's like. Wo it's a dam good brain.'

And this last comment seemed to please Victoria as just then she leaned towards me and planted a nice warm kiss on my cheek.

I was trying to truly appreciate the feel and sensation of it when I started to get really frustrated with those teenage wanky beachball cunts round the side.

'Those little pricks,' I said, glancing at them and their weedy little bodies, feeling an unnecessary stress take its toll on me. 'Look at those wanky little bastards Victoria, they're cheeky cunts they are I tell ya!'

'Oh leave them alone Darren, they're just having a bit of fun,' said Victoria, focusing back on her mag.

'Who the fuck could have fun with a beachball for fuck sake. It's about as entertaining as scrabble.'

I was grinding my teeth in aggravation when I noticed that the only girl of the bunch, a girl of about 15 or 16, maybe 14 as her knockers were a tad small, was a pretty dam sexy girl.

'I tell you though Victoria, that young bird's quite nice on the eye, ain't she.'

'Oh shut up Darren, you little pervert.'

'I guarantee she's gonna blossom into a real beauty within the next couple of years. Might even end up as beautiful as you.'

'Oh Darren that is sweet.'

To prove that flattery as atrocious as mine does actually work, Victoria leaned her face towards me and planted another sensual kiss on my cheek to show how appreciative she was of my complements.

I was really truly enjoying that moment when the frustration from those teenage fuckwits grew out of proportion, and when one of the cunts kicked his mother fuckin' ball over to where me and Victoria were, I'd had enough.

'Little cunts,' I huffed, leaning towards the ball and picking it up. 'You beachball bastard cunts.'

And somewhat violently, I tossed that piece of plastic shit hard towards the sea and then watched the group's disappointed faces droop down to their necks.

'Oy, you lot! Go on, clear off! You cocksucking bastards! Get da fuck out o' here, will ya!'

I gestured violently to them with my thumb and clenched my fist tight, grinding my teeth at the same time.

But one of them young lads wasn't having any of it. Oh no. And in retaliation, he put his middle finger up at me and mouthed some obscenities that were partially distorted by the sound of the wind and sea, although I'm pretty sure he called me an asshole, maybe something worse.

'Yea up yours too mate you little cunt!' I yelled back, my fist clenched and my teeth continuing to grind, a mercury filling surely wearing down to blackened dust.

As the lot of them moved over to the sea to try and reclaim their sea-swept ball, I turned my attention back to Victoria and gave her a rather amorous smile, a look that conveyed the words, 'Oh yea baby, I handled that situation alright.'

However, judging by Victoria's sulk of a face, she was not impressed and resented what I'd done to those 'harmless kids'.

'Oh Darren, why did you have to go and be rude to them for? They're just kids having some fun.' She shook her head and moaned.

'Hey, I only did that for you Victoria,' I said, clasping my left hand around her cheek and gazing devotionally into her eyes, like Roger Moore to one of his feisty bond birds.

'How was that for me? They're just kids.'

'Hey,' I said, preparing to justify my actions, 'that darn beachball could have hit you in the face Victoria. It could have injured you. And I couldn't have that happening to my beautiful girl now could I?'

'Darren, it was just an inflated plastic beachball, honestly.'

'It may have only been and inflated beachball, but I tell you Victoria, those things are lethal. Them little bits at the end. Could prod your eye out like that.'

'Oh Darren, don't be ridiculous.'

'Anyway,' I said, glancing at Victoria's peachy derriere in an attempt to divert her attention. 'Let's just put this behind us now; the sight of you is far too beautiful it's making me feel rather turned on.'

'Oh is it now?'

'Yea, it is,' I said, placing my hand on Victoria's tush and rubbing at it. Man it felt good, warm and supple, the best kind of tush; and as I moved my face towards Victoria's, I started caressing her neck, gentle, gallantry pecks turning into frenetic, passionate enamouring. 'You are such a beautiful woman, such a gorgeous woman.'

Then I started to run my hand around to her chest, groping her left breast, my cock getting hard as a rock with the outline already visible in my shorts, a frozen-sausage-like boner of a hard-on.

'Come on Darren, there's people about, they'll see.'

'What, those teenage twirps? What are they gonna do, ay? Besides, it's good for them to see. It's like sex education or some shit.'

I glanced at the lot once over by the sea, watching them still trying to get their ball – cunts weren't gonna do jack shit – and got back to caressing Victoria even more intimately, my hand beginning to move down to her cunt, the warm heat of her body so sensuous and beguiling.

'Oh Darren,' she uttered, losing control.

With Victoria now starting to moan in pleasure, I slipped my hand in and started stroking her cunt with my fingers, anticipating contact with her sensitive clit. 'You like that, don't you V.'

'Oh ... Darren,' replied Victoria, with romantic undertones to her voice.

'Oh you sexy bitch.'

Swiftly, I moved even closer and then, caressing Victoria's cheek, my hand still stroking her cunt, I got onto the back of her and felt my cock press against bikini-covered flesh.

'Oh yea, Victoria.'

I could hear those teenage wank-stains coming back from the ocean with their ball, but I managed to blank them out and instead started dry humping Victoria with my stiff cock which, right then and there, was literally harder than a piece of confessionary rock.

'They'll ... see ...' gasped an erotically overwhelmed Victoria, losing herself completely in a wave of potent lust, while I glanced back at those weedy lil teenagers, my body still rhythmically moving against my dearest bitch.

I'd noticed them stopping to take a good stare, and this made me grin real devilishly.

'Yea, you look an' lean son,' I thought, before turning back to concentrate on humping Victoria some more.

'Oh Darren, at least cover us up with a towel or something.'

Thus, in obedience to her – for what Victoria wanted, Victoria fucking got! – I fiddled for the large blue beach towel to my right and then flung it over my back, concealing myself and Victoria in a nice sheathe of blue.

I soon grew bored with the dry humping, and after releasing my cock through the fly of my shorts I yanked down Victoria's bikini knickers and started sinking my cock into her burgeoning backside. She moaned like crazy, and I felt my cock penetrate her like a warm knife through butter, with her snug, radiant cheeks almost poetically heated by the glorious sun up above; I could just picture that sun in my mind, a huge rapturous smile on its round, sunflower-like face and a large burning joint protruding out of its mouth. Haha, a funny mother fucker of a sun; even had a pair of shades over its eyes.

'Ow, not too deep,' moaned Victoria, while I pounded and pounded away, champ-style.

It was all so fucking sexually gratifying, until I suddenly thought about those teenage lot in my head. 'Hmm, are they still staring, I wonder?'

And flipping my head back, the top half of the towel blowing back a little, I glanced at the teenagers and saw them still staring, a rather shocked 'OMFG!! Look what those two are doing!' look to their visages, with the two boys, one in a rather ludicrous round pair of gold-framed glasses like The Milky Bar Kid, scratching the backs of their heads in discomfort.

The very look on their silly little acne infested faces made me smile, and I grinned hard at them, even noticing my arse bouncing up and down under the towel like a champ.

'Haha, look at that arse go,' I chuckled. Then I noticed the beautiful, well certainly attractive, girl out of the group. And man did she look a sexy bitch right then and there, with her dirty strawberry blonde hair shimmering in the light, rippling wind and her supple young teenage tits looking like they were being sucked back into her chest.

It made me even harder, and as I humped away I fantasised that my cock was in that girl's underage orifices.

'Oy, girl!' I yelled back.

Immediately, the three of them jumped back slightly in shock but then quickly regained their poises to avoid personal embarrassment and humiliation.

'Hey girl, you fancy getting your young sweet arse into a threesome?'

For some reason, Victoria didn't seem to object: she just moaned and moaned away beneath me as I pounded her like an absolute beast.

'Hey girl, I'm talking to you girl! You fancy a fuck with me and my girlfriend!'

But one of the boys wasn't going to put up with any more of my impertinent behaviour, and in some kind of pathetic, possibly hormonal rage, he stuck his middle finger up in the air and shouted back, 'Fuck you Pervert!' in true public schoolboy style. Then straight after that, rather unexpected to me, he picked up a large pebble off the sand in front of him and proceeded to chuck it at me as hard as he could, the pebble hitting my arse like a pellet of pain.

'You little motherfucker!' I yelled in retaliation, deeply pissed off but still unable to stop humping Victoria. 'You little fuckstick! You wait, I'll get ya, ya cunt!!'

I was gazing angrily at them, a bit of spit spraying from my mouth, when they all started to jog away, the pebble thrower in particular looking quite pleased with himself as he went with the wind.

'You come back here you little prick. I'll fucking ruin ya ya lil cunt. You motherfucker you!' I even clenched my fist in rage while I humped away at a moaning, and surprisingly oblivious to what was going on, Victoria; man did the woman seem to love my compacted cock lodged in her arsehole, and never had I realised that she was such a fan of backdoor loving action as then and there.

The very lascivious thought nearly distracted me from the teenagers pissing off in the distance, but then I looked back at them again, all the while feeling myself about to come.

'You little pricks,' I said, my fist in the air, my nails digging into the palms of my hands.

And then, in a giant beach-set eruption, I came inside Victoria's drilled arsehole.

It was later – 20 minutes or so – and I was standing fully naked in the shallow seawater, staring down at the patterned surface while I breathed in the salty sea air.

'Smells a lil obscene Victoria, don't cha fink?' I said, turning back to look at my girl who was still reading from that nonsensical woman's mag.

'What's that?' she called back, not bothering to look.

'The sea water, it's vaguely obscene, don't cha fink?'

'Hmm, I don't know. Maybe.'

'Real freakin' obscene.'

Turning back, I gazed out into the distance, out at the outline of some shithole of an island obscured by some vaporous cloud. And it was as I peered about the place, my nostrils stinging a little from the briny air, that I noticed a crab being washed onto the shore in a series of rippling waves.

'Hey, look Victoria!' I said, in a sudden bout of excitement, following the crab with my forefinger until it got swept onto the sand. 'A crab!'

The word crab, accentuated by my high intonation, caught Victoria's attention and she actually averted her eyes from the mag.

'Oh, so there is, funny.'

'Wow Victoria! It's a real beauty of a one as well,' I said, moving over to it, my feet slicing through the water, my eyes fixed on the creature's shell.

'It looks pretty dead,' said Victoria, monotonously.

'Of course Victoria, the mighty sea has destroyed this little creature, obliterated its existence into sea-fated doom.'

And in no time at all, I was crouched down right by the crab and gazing down at its bubbly, dead corpse, its drenched body a mauve colour and its legs pushed together like entwined, crippled fingers: it was a real fuckin' crab alright.

'This is a real fuckin' crab Victoria,' I said, prodding at the still-tough shell.

'Haha, yes Darren.'

'I tell you, you don't find one of these beasts down your underwear. Now that really would a problem then wouldn't it.' I couldn't help but let out a rapturous laugh, looking up at the sky while I let chuckle after chuckle of laughter out of my mouth.

'Very funny Darren,' said Victoria.

'I mean imagine if that's what flaming crabs really was, a bunch of mighty lil things snappin' away at your todger or muff. Now that really would be a reason to actually call it "crabs".'

Victoria didn't say anything, she only coughed slightly; I could tell she was uncomfortable.

'Man, I think I'm becoming obsessed with this crab shit Victoria, I think I've got a problem.'

Leaning forwards, I picked the crab up, slightly fearful that it was going to suddenly come back to life and snap me fingers in half, and tossed it far out to sea, smiling at the little visible splash it made in the distance before yelling, 'CRABBBBSSSSAAAA!!!'


So I and Victoria, after a brief period of travelling about Europe, returned to the lifeless, and ultimately fucking boring, city that is Norwich, where the grey, polluted sky casted a melancholic cloud over my Russian doll's head. (Actually, I had one too as a matter of fact, but in all honesty I didn't really give a fuck: my head had been in a permanent, non-transient cloud for a long time anyway (t'was the drugs).) All I really cared about was Victoria's beautiful fucking face and body, a body that I nearly all of the time wanted to explore in great voyeuristic style before I yanked my cock out and sprayed the cum equivalent of molten lava into a sexual orifice of choice.

'I really hate this weather Darren,' moaned Victoria, as we both walked away from Norwich railway station and in the direction of the river, the rain starting to fall from the sky and people scarcely about the place.

'Same here girl, it's a shite place to be, no question about it.'

'We should really get out of here, you know. Just some place different, somewhere livelier and where the people aren't so ... rude.'

I nodded and spat a huge glob of saliva out onto the pavement to emphasis my similar feelings.

'Rude they certainly are V. It's caus most of the people here today aren't the original lot. They're all the twatfaces from places like London and Ipswich who've immigrated here. Just plain cunts.'

'Why don't we do it Darren?'

I glanced at the glob of saliva I'd left, and then looked at Victoria to my side.

'What, you want to leave this shithole?' I replied, before clearing my throat with a Yoda-like sound.

'Yes I do Darren.'

'Well ... where the fuck you wanna go, ay?'

'I don't know. I don't know many places in England. But, I'm sure you could rent some cheap place out somewhere.'

'Hmm,' I thought, pondering, 'well it'll have to be a cheap place, I'm not wasting any of my mother's payout money on some rip-off fuckin place. I tell you, people are proper ruthless cunts these days; they'd charge you for air if they could.'

'It could be some place basic. Like a studio flat.'

'Yea, now that sounds good Victoria. I've heard about them studio flats. We should do that.' Man, I was surprisingly enthusiastic about Victoria's proposal, very surprising for somebody who'd spent the majority of his entire fucking life in the boring shithole that the rest of the country refused to acknowledge.

We'd gotten half way down the side of the river when I noticed a dead squirrel lying at the corner of the road, all squished up and mangled from where it'd been tossed about by the wheels of some vehicle.

'Oh look at that, there's a dead squirrel Victoria. You don't see that every day, do ya,' I said, my voice for a moment going all high like some joke of a Jordy's.

'Oh that's horrible Darren,' said Victoria, her eyes squinting in repulsion.

'No it ain't girl, that's a thing of beauty. Look at it, a beautiful creature desecrated in organs and blood and guts on the pavement. I mean just WOW!'

'Oh that's horrible Darren. Stop it.'

Knowing that Victoria's knickers were getting in a metaphorical twist, I moved over to the squirrel, knelt down, and pointed right at it, my forefinger literally millimetres away from the bloody surface of its body.

'You can see its little pink mangled brain through that hole.'

'You're disgusting Darren.'

'Oh, I'm disgusting Victoria,' I said, in outrage and standing back up again. 'You're the one who refuses to except that sheer fuckin' art has been sprayed all over the corner of this road. Sheer, unprecedented beauty I tell ya girl.'

'Darren, you're being insane, stop it.'

'Me, insane?' And I nearly laughed. 'I'm not the one who wants to move into some rip-off place of an apartment, some rip-off, limey fucking cunt place of an apartment.' I could already see that I was getting Victoria slightly upset and emotional.

'Darren, why are you being so nasty and unpleasant for?'

'I'm not Victoria. I just want you to acknowledge that this dead squirrel on the side of the road here is actually a really beautiful sight, that's all I want you to do.'

At this, Victoria huffed and crossed her arms even more tightly around her chest.

'I tell you what Victoria, if you say it, then we'll move out of this crummy shithole of a city ASAP, and we'll move to wherever you want to go, wherever in this shithole of a country you wanna go. How's that sound, ay?'

'Are you fucking serious Darren?' said Victoria, immediately unfolding her arms.

'Yes I am Victoria. Serious as I've ever been before. You just say that one thing for me, and we'll fuck off out of this mother fuckin' shithole I promise.'

'Well, I think you're being fucking mad Darren.'

'Fucking mad? Hmm, maybe I am, but we're all a little mad inside, aren't we.'

'Oh ...' huffed Victoria, looking as if she was giving in. 'What do you want me to say, exactly?'

'Just say that this dead squirrel is a beautiful representation of blood over matter, and a brilliant, poignant reminder of how death becomes art.'

'Oh, you're fucking mad Darren, but ... I'll say it.'

'Good girl,' I said. And with a look of joy on my face I immediately turned my attention back to the deceased little chap, pointing at it with my forefinger, glancing once at Victoria. 'But you have to look at it while you say it.'

'Oh for fuck sake Darren, do I have to?'

'Yes, yes, Victoria, then we'll get the fuck out of here and break free from the barrier of inbred arsehole scum.'

'Oh ok,' said Victoria, looking down at the squirrel; and after an immediate look of repulsion took hold of her face, she breathed out and prepared to utter her 'monologue' if you will. 'This ... this dead squirrel is a beautiful ... representation of blood over matter ... and a poignant reminder of how death becomes art. There, happy?' She looked at me, and I smiled back at her, solely satisfied and immensely pleased to hear her say such poetic words.
'Girl, we'll be out of here in no time.'

Taking her arm in mine, we then cruised off down the road together, and I smiled, feeling very fucking content for some reason. I guess I was, somewhere deep and lost inside, optimistic that a permanent change of place would be a good thing. I think that all those years in Norwich had really sucked the life out of my soul, and had painted a pretty shoddy picture of what existence should be.

'I'm so glad we can get out of here. I can't describe how much I loathe this place. It's so depressing,' said Victoria.

'Hey girl, I've been loathing this place since my earliest conscious days; I sympathise with you, I really fuckin' do.'

Victoria seemed to be quite sympathetic with the fact that I came from Norwich.

'Can't believe you've coped this long here,' she said.

'Neither can I, shit happens that you just can't escape. But now that I've got some cash from my good old mother and a good Russian bird, things are looking good.' I laughed cheekily before letting Victoria plant a nice soppy kiss on my cheek.

'It's so great to hear that we can get out of here.'

'WE'LL GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS YEASTY CUNTHOLE IN NO TIME!' I yelled out into the street, my echo reverberating in huge swells under the river's bridge.

'I think all this good news means a celebratory blow-job is in need for you.'

And at that very moment, an instant flash of that sequence in Confessions Of A Window Cleaner popped up in my mind, and I found myself shouting out, 'YABADABADOO!' real fuckin' loud so that people started looking out their windows. YABAFUCKINDOO!!!


So, in no time at all, a nice cheap studio flat for just 250 quid a month in a place called Lincoln, with basic furniture included, had been arranged by myself, a rather generous deposit having already been paid, and I and my beautiful Russian missus were heading the fuck out of Norwich city for good and preparing to sit our content backsides down on the earliest 8 o' clock train available.

'Wo Victoria! Out of this place girl, wooo hooo! Lincoln should be good!'

And after all that fucking shite nonsense that preceded it all, we finally got on the train and sat at the front of it with an incredible view outside of an incredibly 'orrible fuckin' place.

'Wayhay,' I said, looking about the carriage, 'not too many people about. Now that's what I call a good mother fuckin' train.'

I was placing my luggage in the top luggage compartment when I noticed an old geezer reading some World War 2 related book further down the carriage.

'Right there mate? Good book you're reading is it?' I said.

There was a delayed response from the old codger until he looked, rather aloofly, back at me.

'Oh shut up will you!' he said, the lines on his forehead forming an arrow that pointed down towards his crinkly nose, and specs of spit emanating from his mouth in old age intolerability.

Taken aback by his rude reply and deeply offended, I retaliated.

'You fucking old cunt,' I said, trying to brush off the humiliation. 'Who do you think you're talking to, ay? Just who do you fink you're effin' talkin' to?'

I was anticipating a response from the old fuck, but I didn't get one; he just turned his face away and focused back on his boring read of a gobshite book.

'Can you believe that prick Victoria,' I said, still standing while my missus settled down in her seat to my right. 'The gob on that arse-bandit.'

'Oh relax Darren, we're getting out of Norwich so we won't have to deal with people like him, will we.'

It was then that I took a fierce, somewhat predatory look at the old geezer, my eyes narrowing in searing spite.

'Yea, and thank fuck for that Victoria. I can't wait to see the back of this fucking ruin of a place. Won't have to take shit from wanky bastard Norfolk inbred cunts no more.' Then I glanced at the few other people on board, all a bunch of carwash Norwich cunts like the old man. 'That goes for all you Norwich dry wankstains. Fuck y'all!' And I finished off my speech with a quick spring of me two fingers, pure Harry Enfield and Chums style.

But then some skinny young mentalist of a chump in army gear near the old geezer thought he'd have a pop at me too, his pink, hyperprolactinemic face scrunching up like a scrotum, and he gave me the evil eye.

'Yea fuck you you cunt! Talk about yourself, why don't cha!' he said.

Man, I certainly wasn't going to let that mentalist get away with saying that to me, oh no, oh no indeed.

'No fuck you mate! I ain't even properly from Norfolk you cocksucking fuckstick! My parents were both born in London. So up yours ya cunt!'

'Yea, whatever, you sound Norfolk as fuck to me mate!' replied the guy.

'How fucking dare you. There is nothing Norfolk about me whatsoever!'

'Yea, except that you probably like to fuck your sister. And brother!'

'You cheeky cunt!'

Victoria, always disliking confrontational situations, placed her arm around my back and tried to calm me in her loving, motherly manner, her hand moving in circles on my back.

'Come Darren, relax, just leave it will you.'

'Yea, well you like to fuck your granddad mate!' I yelled, forcing my fist in my other palm to emphasize the point. Then I glanced at the older geezer. 'In fact, there he is right now. I bet you did him in the arse in the toilets didn't cha ya dirty fucking cunt. You make me sick.'

That certainly shut the cunt up as I didn't here a peep from him after that. He just turned away, a look of gross humiliation dominating his face, and did some strange movements with his shoulders as if to say to himself, 'Just relax mate, untense yourself, think about happy things. Yes, sing the happy song.'

'Fucking cunt,' I said quietly as I slowly sat down, my eyes kept on the back of the guy's head with my face a little florid from the raging anger. 'Can you believe that cunt Victoria, what a fucking cunt.'

'Come on, calm yourself now Darren,' said Victoria, starting to rub at my back and neck with her soft, elegant hands. I liked it a lot. In fact, it started to turn me, in a rather immense way, on.

'Mmm,' I said, catching a waft of her erotically ambrosial scent. 'Speaking of doing it in the arse in the toilets, you fancy a nice quick bit of filthy action in the toilets? Will be our last fuck in Norwich you know.'

'Oh Darren, you horny bastard,' said Victoria, continuing to massage my neck with myself continuing to like it. 'We've got to get our tickets checked first.'

'Oh fuck that shit, the train ain't even started. I'm bored already, and I want to fuck right now and right on this god dam mother fuckin' train.'

I was feeling pissed and agitated with everything, but the feel of Victoria's womanly hands on my neck soon alleviated it and made me feel much much better.

'Don't worry, in a little bit.' And then, leaning forwards towards my ear, my wife began to whisper sultry, kink-ridden words to me. 'And it will be a good fuck as well. Just imagine your cock in my mouth.'

Suddenly, an explosion of rampant lust went off in my mind, and the very thought of my cock in her mouth sent me into a mad frenzy of intolerable, licentious desire, two thick vapours of steam shooting from both my ears in sexual overload.

'Right, that's it Victoria,' I said, 'you've done it. You've fucking done it to me. We're going to fuck right now, right now I tell you girl.'

Victoria didn't even get a second to protest, because in no time at all I was scooping her up in my arms like an Italian lothario – I'm thinking Rudolph Valentino in the height of his career – and carrying her off to the carriage toilets around the side.

'Oh Darren, stop it,' the woman humorously said, playfully rubbing at my face with her fingers.

'No I won't,' I replied, playfully as well.

The geezer in the army gear seemed to object to this (either that or it was just blatant jealousy) and turned his face around towards me.

'You perverts!' he shouted.

But the nob-end didn't get to say anything else because by the time that last syllable was sounded, I and Victoria had fucked off to the toilets with the intention of fucking each other's brains out like rabbits in spring.

'Oh you sexy bitch, dam girl,' I said, locking the door and letting Victoria yank down my fly, her fingers feeling warm and tender against my crotch. 'No, wait, do that thing with your teeth Victoria, I like it when you do that.'

So Victoria did that thing with her teeth, gazing up at me with a cheeky smile, and unzipped my fly with those pearly whites, the train beginning to leave the station. Very soon my left ball had been sucked into her mouth, and I felt that sinister but sexy ache make me close my eyes like a rapper's delight.

'Oh yea girl, suck my balls for a bit,' I said, her tongue swerving about, ball to ball.

Then she sucked my right one and teased me almost sadistically with her throbbing wet tongue; it was like she was suckin' on some easter egg or something, and from the intensity of it all a layer of sweat began to form on my forehead, like I was in a sauna or some shit. 'Fuck me Victoria, you do that good girl!' I said. 'Man that's some erotic shit.'

It was unfortunate though that, just then, while I was receiving some serious ball sucking action, a loud couple of thumps emerged on the door followed by a hoarse, nauseously Norfolk voice.

'Oy!! What's going on in there?! I hear fucking in there, and fucking ain't permitted on this train!'

'Oh for bollock's sake,' I said, more in frustration at Victoria having released my right one from her mouth than the sound of the prick outside.

'Oh no,' whispered Victoria, wiping her mouth with her hand and looking deeply disconcerted, 'what are we gonna do Darren?'

'Darn, fuck, darn, you can't shag anywhere these days, can you? Mother fuckin' train policies.'

'Oy, I'm talking to you buddy. I'm the ticketman, and there shall be no fucking in that toilet, you hear me?! Dick munch.'

'There is no fucking going on in here Mr,' I said. 'I assure you, you have my word.'

'There's two people in there, ain't there?'

'Look, I'm having a quick wank alright. There's no one in here apart from myself and a Paul Raymond magazine.'

'There better not be anyone else in there buddy!'

'There's no one else, just me, and I'm just having a wank, now leave me be and let me finish the business, will ya?'

'Well you better hurry up you hear me. I'm not sure what the policy is on wanking here, but I'm pretty sure it's prohibited. So you finish up quick! And don't make a mess, you here me?!'

'Will do. Will pop one out in no time.'

'And you better have your ticket ready!'

A bout of boredom hit me and Victoria as we waited impatiently for the cuntish ticketman to storm off, and when the arsehole finally did, Victoria and I were left standing there, me scratching the back of my head in awkwardness.

'Hmm, what now?' said Victoria, gazing up at me like a confused child, those puppy-like eyes widening, and those cheeks looking so soft and angelic.

'Right, I think a tit-wank and then we go back to our seats. What do you say?'

'Well how very romantic.'

So I waited for my dearest to get her dainty little cardigan off, and then in no time at all I was sticking my hard joystick in-between those big wobbly breasts of hers and going back and forth in true tit-wank style. The feeling was so intense that a load of frothy white stuff began building up underneath my stretched back foreskin, simultaneously with a heated, passionate lust that made my heart beat profoundly and my skin exude sweat.

'Oh fucking Deidre Barlow FUCKING YES,' I uttered, Victoria pressing her tits closer together as I tossed away, my cock thrusting against them like a voltaic, fully functional pneumatic drill. I could see Victoria staring at my meat, her hand holding those breasts together as she anticipated the abundant spurts of cum that were going to soak them to the mother fuckin' bone. 'Oh fucking love them tities Victoria.' It was like doing it in her arse only without that moist, deep warmth. But this was equally as erotic, like a teenage boy's filthy fantasy: AND I WAS MAKING IT COME FUCKING TRUE FOR MY LONG LOST TEENAGE SELF! BOY WAS I MAKIN' IT COME TRUE!

'It's ... happening Victoria ... it's FUCKING HAPPENING!' I exclaimed as quietly as I could, the cum about to squirt from my cock with one massive fucking build-up.

Then the ejaculation process commenced, and more cum came out of my cock than expected; it went all over them titties like a shaken up lemonade bottle, with Victoria seeming stunned with it as the testosterone-imbibed juice came out, flooding the surface of her skin in miniature puddles.

'Fuck that was intense,' I said, lifting my cock from those milkpumps and watching a line of cum unravel from my foreskin to Victoria's flesh like a piece of string and then bursting like a bubble. After that I tore some tissues from the toilet-roll holder and threw them on Victoria's tits. 'Will soak up like a sponge I reckon.'

After rearranging ourselves, we headed back to our seats and looked forwards to getting the fuck out of Norwich city, I myself for good this time. And at that moment in time, I'd made a conscientious decision of never setting foot back in that shithole, with all contact with my mother and pals to be made solely via call, text, or email. No way was I going back to that massive, rancid colostomy bag.

'Wow Victoria, can't believe we're getting the fuck out of here. Will be a change, won't it,' I said, resting my head back against the seat.

'It definitely will,' said Victoria, gazing at me from hers, 'a positive change.'

We were both sharing a profound, amorous sourire when I heard the ticketman approach me, the pungent, but quite lurid, scent of Lynx Africa wafting up my nostrils, and in a rather uncomfortable manner I turned to look at him and immediately noticed that stupid fucking ticket machine thingimagig attached to his chest.

The arsehole, a fat bastard with a couple of tattoos trailing up his wrist, was gazing down at it, the many creases of his 2 or 3 chins faintly concealed by thick stubble, and he didn't bother to look at me; he just gazed down at his machine, waiting gormlessly for me and Victoria to hand him our tickets.

'Good wank was it?' he suddenly said to me, not looking at me as I handed him my ticket.

Frowning a little in awkwardness, I glanced at him – he was still not looking at me – and started nodding.

'It was ... not bad, not bad at all,' I replied, smiling.

The ticketman didn't bother saying anything else; he just collected the orange tinged objects, stamped them, and after handing them back fucked off to the next passengers with his portly frame.

'Funny chap he was, don't you think Victoria?' I said, glancing at her to my side.

'Haha, yes indeed,' she mumbled sleepily.

'Well that'll be the last Norwich cunt we see ... hopefully.'


'Oh fucking cunt,' I said, my fingers trembling as I ripped a diazepam tablet out of its foil. 'My eyeballs are going to explode from this fucking headache.'

'Look, you've taken a tablet, you'll be ok, don't worry,' said Victoria.

She was sitting next to me in the small, shite-excuse-for-a-café that we'd checked into on the way back from Lincoln railway station. And after 5 tablets of good old val that I'd taken just to make the fucking journey more bearable, I felt in a bad fucking way, real fuckin' jittery and nauseous and shit.

'Don't worry? Don't worry? I'm not fucking worrying. I'm in a fucking bad way; but I'm not fucking worrying, you stupid brain-dead bint.'

'Darren, don't say that to me. I was just trying to help.'

I could see those salty tears wanting to release themselves from Victoria's eyes, but I wasn't going to let them.

'Trying to help, what a load of fucking drivel that is. It's all your fault you bloody bimbo, nagging at me all the time. And now I've got a fucking bad head now.'

I leaned back in my chair and washed the diazepam down with a swig of black coffee; I knew I shouldn't have taken another one, but of course I fucking did, just for the sake of it, like I always do.

'Arhhhh, fucking black coffee,' I said, grimacing at that bitter taste of that ghastly shit. 'Stupid fuckin' café don't even serve fuckin' lattes here. Cunts.' I looked over angrily at the waitress, who was serving some lesbian fucking bint of a woman, and clenched my fist; I wanted to hit that bitch violently in the face and then rub the nasty coffee shit into it. 'Oy, waitress!' I yelled, my eyes palpitating from the drugs.

The woman turned to look at me, and I watched her cheeks droop down that sexy lil face of hers.

'Yea, you, why don't you serve lattes here? I demand a mother fuckin' latte, a mother fuckin' latte I tell ya.'

'Um, excuse me?' the woman said, lifting her coffee pot up from the customer's table.

'I said why don't you serve fuckin' lattes here lady??'

The waitress looked flabbergasted with my enquiry, but definitely seemed the type of woman confident in standing her ground with nuisance twatface customers like myself.

'You didn't ask for a latte,' she replied, a tone of mockery in her voice.

'How dare you say that I didn't order a latte!' I said in outrage. 'I always order a latte you hear me?! Always!! That's my mother fuckin' drink girl.'

As I sat there, staring aloofly at the waitress, Victoria began rubbing anxiously at her face and then proceeded to try to calm me down, even placing her hand lovingly in mine.

'Look, you need to calm down Darren, you're acting crazy,' she said, almost like I was a sectioned patient refusing to have his involuntary injection of risperidone jabbed right into his glutes.

'I ain't acting crazy Victoria, you are girl!' I said, yanking my hand away from hers and staring back at the waitress, who just stood there impatiently, wanting me to finish my rant and then to shut the fuck up. 'I want a latte, and I want a latte right mother fuckin' now you hear me,' I said, pointing repetitively at my thigh. I could tell that the woman didn't know what to do, and I imagined rather vividly what was going through her mind: 'Now should I get the cunt a latte, or should I kick the cunt out with my foot right up his arse. Hmm.'

But I'd had enough of the place, and in a paroxysm of rage I heaved myself out of my chair and pointed at the waitress.

'You know what, fuck this place lady,' I said, before grabbing hold of my sportsbag by my foot and then Victoria's arm, pulling her up from her seat. 'Me and my woman are leaving this wanky excuse for a café. Come on, get your sexy lil arse the fuck up Victoria, we're going.'

'Darren, take it easy!'

The waitress was still standing, and in the process of slagging me off with her customer, when I suddenly picked up my cup of coffee and in mega rage threw it forcefully at the opposite wall, just missing the bitch's face, the cup splattering all over the cream coloured wall with a bloody sound effect. Then a swift scream came from the waitress' gobsmacked mouth.

'That's right,' I said, budging Victoria towards the door. 'That's what I think of this place. To hell with it.'

I took one last glance at the waitress, who was beginning to look angry and revengeful, and then I and Victoria descended out into the street, a build-up of froth seeping from the corners of my mouth.

'Mother fuckin' café!' I exclaimed. 'Mother fuckin' no-latte cunts!'

Partially distressed, Victoria placed the palm of her hand on her forehead and shook her head.

'Oh Darren, why did you go and do that?' she said, nearly weeping as we headed off down the street.

'I did it for the sake of lattes Victoria,' I said. 'The sake of mother fuckin' lattes, I tell ya girl.'
'You just flipped out Darren. I think it's those pills. That's the 5th one you've had since the train ride. They're making you act crazy.'

'Bitch, you should have seen me when I was on coke. Now that was some mother fuckin' crazy ass behaviour.'

Victoria shook her head again. 'Oh Darren,' she moaned.

'Blame it on the drugs, why don't you Victoria, use the classic 'drug blame' on me why don't cha.'

I could hear the woman start to snivel a little next to me, and while I registered each teary, emotive sound, I kept my eye out about the place, glancing at all of the visible houses and buildings.

'Now, where the fuck is this shithole of an apartment or whatever the fuck you call it?'

A short while later, we finally found the apartment, and it was after we'd unloaded our bags and shit, including some recently purchased bottles of Heineken, that Victoria and I decided to share our first fuck together in the kitchen, Victoria bent over the sink and myself fucking her from behind while at the same time swigging from a beaut of a bottle. Yes, me and Victoria had settled in to the rather dainty, and surprisingly unfuckingdepressing apartment in no time – a basic studio one – but with great furniture like a comfy sofa and bed included, it was just perfect for a young couple to fuck on a regular basis.

I'd needed that Heineken to calm myself down – as the val tablets had definitely made me feel and act a little odd – and as I swigged and swigged at it, my trousers right down to my knees, I fucked a panting Victoria hard like some champ of a gorilla.

'Dar ... Dar... Darren?' said Victoria, her lustrous black hair swaying like a sheet of pristine silk on a washing line.

'Yea?' I replied, swigging, adrenalin practically seeping out of my skin, and holding onto one of Victoria's hips with my other hand.

'Maybe we should close the curtains.'

'Hmm,' I pondered. And briefly, I looked out of the window and saw that the street was clearly visible with a group of young children, no more than 9 or 10, kicking a football about in the distance – quite like those cunts on the beach. I don't think they could see us, but even if they could they were way too preoccupied with that fuckin' ball. (What is it with kids and balls ay??)

'No, it's alright Victoria. No body gives a fuck. Let us give a fuck.'

'Alright Darren,' said Victoria, her voice quivering with a cacophony of pleasure-tinted tones – now, like myself, she really didn't give a fuck if anybody was watching or not. 'You gonna cum?'

'Oh yea baby,' I said; and it was just then that I let out a huge moan and leaned right forwards into Victoria, my free hand squeezing her stomach cleavage, and a beat in my cock flowing rhythmically to the spurts of jizz that I ejaculated. 'Just did darling.'

'Oh ... but I haven't though Darren.'

'Don't worry baby, I'll soon sort that out girl.'

Taking a huge swig of the remaining liquid in my bottle, I swallowed it all in a huge gulp and then moved my other hand from V's cleavage down to her soft, lithe-lipped fanny.

'Now, where's that lil button,' I thought cheekily as I searched for it, my latex-covered cock growing limp inside the woman.

Then, once I found it, I gave Victoria a fingerblasting to remember, my forefinger massaging that tiny, wet, seed-like object with this vibrating technique that I'd picked up many years ago from a Jenna Jameson movie I'd, at the time, been thoroughly infatuated with.

'Oh yes Darren, yes, yes, I'm so wet,' she moaned, her head raised up and the reflection of her gorgeous hazel eyes and angelically sculptured cheekbones clearly visible in the window.

'You like to be fingerblasted, don't you Victoria?' I said, vaguely obscenely, my voice sounding like Tony Curtis' impersonation of Cary Grant in Some Like It Hot.

'Oh, fuuuuck!' moaned Victoria some more; I was making her cum like a mother fuckin' train I tell ya.

'How fucking hard do you like it V?'

I rubbed harder and harder at the red fleshy button; I could feel my finger become hot from the friction; and I could mentally picture Victoria's clit in my head: it lit up in a reddish orange colour, like some Christmas-tree bulb or something.

'Hard,' she moaned.

'Well don't take all day, ay, my hand is getting tired.'

Just then, an almost thunderous ejection of resonant moans sprung from the woman's mouth, and I felt my hand become soaked in the most surapy of all cuntjuice I'd ever felt before, like a flood of coconut water combined with a thick, creChantelle sauce. It soaked my hand and filled the tops of my fingers nails. What a fucking CUM from Victoria!

'I see you liked that Victoria,' I said, slowly moving my hand away from her cunt and proceeding to lick the juice from my fingers. 'You taste like a peach, you know that.'

'Oh Darren,' she said, exhausted from panting so much. 'That felt soooo good.'

'I can see that. Well, I am the fingerblasting king, aren't I Victoria,' I said, putting my bottle on the side and then beginning to pull my trousers up.

'You are the fingerblasting king,' said Victoria, laughing.

Man, just to hear her confirm it made me all excited like, and while Victoria pulled her knickers up those Russian legs of hers I leaned forwards towards the window, opened it, and bellowed out into the street with all my vocal might, 'Woooo! I am the mother fuckin' fingeblasting king!!!' My voice echoed down the street, and I could see the children who were kicking their ball about glance briefly at me in their enfant curiosity. 'Haha,' I thought, grinning cheekily at them.

'Darren, you're so cheeky,' said Victoria, rubbing my cheek playfully.

'That's my girl. Hey, you wanna drink baby? I'm gonna have myself another, mmm mm.'

Victoria pondered, but then she delighted me by saying, 'Ok, might as well.'

'Haha, you right on girl, good sex requires a good drink after.'

And then with a great feeling of sexual gratification, and also a potent euphoria induced by the alcohol hitting my opiate receptors, I headed off over to the fridge and took out a couple more bottles of some fine-as-a-mother-fuckin'-bitch beer.

'You know, it's so good that you're less stressed. I was worried about you earlier,' said Victoria.

'Don't worry baby. I'm feeling right as rain now. I admit I acted like a bit of a pill-poppin' prick earlier, but I'm all good now. Right as mother fuckin' rain I tell ya.' I flipped the lids off our bottles with an opener from the kitchen draw, handed Victoria hers, and grinned as I poured the fizzy delight in my mouth, my head already in a pool of mild merriment.

'That's good to hear,' said Victoria.

She smiled at me, and I smiled back.


My eyes were closed and so were Victoria's as I thrust back and forth into her sleeping body. I'd made the effort to rub quite a bit of saliva on my cock to enable relatively smooth penetration into her body, and it seemed to be working a treat, like thrusting my cock into a pot of low-grade Vaseline.

'Oh yea Vic, let me fuck you in your dreams you dirty bitch,' I said, our stomachs touching, my body really experiencing true lust, the lascivious, unmatchable kind. I could imagine myself in her dream right then and there, fucking her on an intergalactic spaceship hovering by the pirouetting rings of Saturn. 'Oh yea Victoria; oh yea baby.'

I was exhaling intensely out when I heard a small shriek come from beneath my face and then opening my eyes I suddenly saw Victoria staring at me, her eyes wide and her mouth ajar as if she were a frightened pensioner in fear of her abusive carer. Nevertheless, I continued fucking her until a look of real discomfort dominated her sleepy face.

'Darren, what the bloody fuck are you doing?' she said, a concoction of emotions taking hold of her.

'I ... don't know,' I said.

I suddenly stopped and pretended to be all casual like, like how an American rapper would say, 'Supp dawg.' And soon I decided to do a little reverse psychology. 'What are you doing?'

There was another small shriek from Victoria before she pushed me to my side and got out of bed in a massive huff. She was more annoyed and frustrated than shocked, kind of as if she felt like she was being left out (well that was the vibe I was getting anyway).

'I can't believe you were doing that,' said Victoria, disgusted. She reached for a robe and swung it on over her nude body, all out of view of me so that the only shot I had of her was her pert arse and the pearl shaped outlines of the sides of her breasts.

'Well ... I think it was quite romantic,' I said, rather positively.

'Romantic?? Having sex with me while I lay sleeping, that's romantic?'

'Well, hell yea, I mean this shit's coming into fashion girl. It's some real erotic shit you know. But of course, you being from Russia with your straight-ass views and shit, you wouldn't understand that, would you.'

'I guess I wouldn't.'

'You know, I don't know why you're acting so shocked Victoria,' I said, lying back in the bed, my cock now losing its sturdiness.

'It would just be nice if you would tell me that you were planning to do that, that's all.'

'But fuck Victoria, that would ruin the exhilaration of it. You know something girl, if you really wanted, you could do whatever you liked to me, you know that?'

Victoria just huffed a little, as if exasperated, and folded her arms.

'You'd let me fuck you while you sleep?'

'Of course Victoria. You could even stick a cucumber up my arse if it made you happy, or a courgette.'

Now I've got Victoria looking like she doesn't believe what she's hearing; but it's a good look, a kind of humorous one.

'You'd let me stick a cucumber up your arse?'

'Hey girl, I'm all for it.' I almost wanted to give her the thumbs up, but I didn't, I just placed my hands around the back of my head, and gazed cheekily at her, pure dimple revealing style.

'Well, I don't really want to stick a cucumber up your arse.'

'Hey girl, now I'm vaguely disappointed. For a second, I was looking forwards to it. S' dam shame.'

Despite me trying to 'joke' myself out of it, there was just no getting round it, I was going to have to grovel and apologise to my wife, something I really never liked having to fucking do.

'Look, Victoria, I'm sorry ok, I really am; I really won't do anything like that again unless you tell me to, I promise girl, honest I do.'

'You mean that Darren?'

'Yea, Victoria, I do. If I'd known that you were going to get so darn upset, I wouldn't have done it. I'm a dick, and an idiot, all in one.'

I could really see that my shite excuse of an apology had worked – it really had, so simple too – and in no time at all Victoria began to smile, that look of forgiveness so prevalent and thriving on her face. And soon she was walking back over to the bed, sitting by me, and placing her right hand on my cheek, the perfect warmth I needed.

'Oh Darren, I'm sorry for being so uptight. I really appreciate you saying that though. I really do.'

'Hey, I'm all about pleasin' ya girl. I'll never do that again. Cross me heart and hope to die.'

'Thank you Darren.'

Very shortly I was receiving a hearty hug from her, and as she rested her chin on my shoulder I smiled discreetly to myself for managing so effortlessly to get my missus calm like that; fuck, if I'd known that all I had to do was to say a hearty fucking sorry, I'd have said it on every occasion I'd fucked Victoria off.

'You sure you don't want to shove a cucumber up my arse to make you feel better?' I said. 'Or a courgette?'

Victoria leaned back, smiled, and looked me in the eyes. 'Haha, maybe sometime.'

'Of course, we'll need to stock up on Vaseline if you want to try it, lube it up good an' proper.'

'Haha,' said Victoria. Then she took her robe off and as she got into bed I leaned forwards and kissed her on her lips.

'Beautiful angel Victoria. Hey, you couldn't do me a favour, could you?' I said, running my fingers down her neck to her chest.

'What's that?' replied Victoria.

'You couldn't maybe ... finish what I'd started?'

There was a glint of disapproval in Victoria's eye, but within the space of 30 seconds I was receiving a thoroughly good hand job.


Our first morning at the apartment was like a breath of fresh air in both mine and Victoria's lives. Not to have to wake up to the sounds of Norwich wankers driving down streets on mopeds, nor the sounds of sawing and pneumatic drills from some bunch of builder cuntfaces was somewhat of a luxury for me, and as I sat at a round table in the kitchen, eating a slice of marmite-covered toast, I felt like this was the start of my second life. The old Darren Speck, lone wolf of Norwich city, was dead and gone, and now alive and kicking was the superiorly virile Darren Speck, 24 years old, and with a dangerously sexy Russian wife, the only official girlfriend I've ever properly had, a woman who taught me that you could have it off with a woman without paying her, and I was certainly lovin' life then and there. I'D HIT THE JACKPOT ALL RIGHT.

'Darren,' said Victoria, walking on into the kitchen where I was sitting at the table.

'Yes my sugar plum fairy,' I said, crunching into a slice of my toast and then turning to look at Victoria.

My eyes practically bulged out of their sockets when I glimpsed Victoria in just her kinky red knickers, with no bra to conceal those sensually elegant breasts. And by gonorrhea, what a sight! What a bloody sight I tell you! She was practically oozing sex out of her breasts.

'Wow Victoria, you are lookin' dam freakin' sexy this morning girl I must say,' I said, swallowing my toast and at the same time feeling a massive boner protrude up out of my boxer shorts.

'Thank you my gorgeous husband, all to please you.'

At those words, I had to close my eyes in bliss as I took another bite of my toast. What a fucking fantasy come true to hear those mots from such a gorgeous woman, a woman so much better than all those limey brit-skanks out there, all those braindead, ugly little trollops who don't even know any other language. I was with a real woman, A REAL FUCKIN' WOMAN I TELL YA! And I didn't ever have to glance at some fucking ugly troll ever again. This woman was all I needed in life. If I wanted a blonde, I'd just get her a fucking wig, job done. If I wanted a schoolgirl, I'd just dress her up as one, JOB FUCKING DONE. All my sexual fantasies were there in one exhilarating package, like a state-of-the-art sex robot, a woman who'd given me a new, furious zest for life.

'Come Victoria, sit on my lap,' I said, tapping my thigh as I devoured my breakfast.

And smiling playfully, Victoria came swiftly over and after nicking one of my slices sat on my lap where she immediately sensed my stiff boner grinding against the side of her right arse-cheek.

'Darren, you're so naughty,' she said, tapping me on my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around her waist and gazed amorously at her glorious face: this was the closest to love I'd ever felt for a woman.

'I can't help myself Victoria, you're just so darn beautiful.'

Victoria took a few bites of the slice before putting it down and brushing her hands together to wipe away the crumbs.

'Oh Darren,' she said. And it was then that we both shared a brief, but ultimately, tonguetastic French kiss, my boner bouncing up and down in my boxers like a pogo-stick.

'So ...' said Victoria, annoyingly releasing her mouth from mine. 'What are we going to do today, our first full day in Lincoln?'

'Well ...' I said, and I have to admit, I didn't really know what to say: I mean, I'd never planned a day before in my life, and here was Victoria wanting to actually do something, wanting a planed mo-fo of a day. 'Um ...' I said, panicking for an answer. Then I said the first stupid thing that came to mind. 'Well, we could go to the zoo if you like.'

'The zoo?' said Victoria, surprised. 'What a spontaneous, but great, idea; I love it Darren.'

'Yes, well, I thought it would be an interesting experience.' Man, where the fuck had the conversation suddenly drifted too. First we were French kissing, and now we were talking about visiting a fucking zoo, how fucking very droll. I mean a fucking zoo, why did I say that? Lol.

'Then we should do it Darren. Let's just go to a zoo.'

Victoria couldn't resist the urge to give me another French kiss, and I now felt glad that I'd brought up the topic of a zoo; not only was it great to have satisfied my woman's needs, but it also made the French kissing feel even more intense, smuttier, and DIRTIER; the images of all those animals fucking lighting up in my mind like a flame to crystal meth: those lions and tigers doing it doggystyle like they DO ON THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL; although I doubted we'd come across any lions in a wanky UK zoo. But maybe some good rhino action! Mmm, mmm, mmm. 'Could do me some of that shit to watch,' I thought.

'Man I love your lips Victoria,' I said, as Mrs Speck sensuously bit my lower lip and pulled at it with her teeth.

'I know you do,' said Victoria. Looking down at my still hard cock, she smiled at me with a glint of the naughtiest, smuttiest lust in her eyes. 'So loverboy, when shall we go to the zoo?'

'Whenever you want baby.'

'We should go mid-day, I'll make you a fry-up first to make you feel good.'

Man, a fry-up: what a woman. She could really cook a good meal too!

'That sounds great Victoria,' I said. 'Oh girl, you really are so overwhelmingly sexy.' Then I started to kiss Victoria's neck, tasting it as one would taste a ripe, syrupy nectarine. Fruity!

Soon the urge to satisfy my yearning sexual needs took over Victoria, and she began to lower her face down to my cock. And before I knew it, she was taking my throbbing bat in her mouth in yet another 'sensational blow-job'. I guess blowjobs really were her thing: she must have sucked me off thousands of times since I'd been with her; fuck, that was the first thing we did together (it had been in a KFC toilet a couple of months before we ultimately got hitched).

But as she sucked slowly away, something surprising began to happen. All the vivid thoughts of animals fucking in my mind began to have an oversensitive effect on my sexual desire, and I soon, real fuckin' unexpected to my usual self, began to prematurely ejaculate in Victoria's mouth in huge, typical in the morning heaps, great starchy globs of the stuff, like that creChantelle substance in rice pudding. I desperately tried to stop it from happening, but with that gradually intensifying sweet sensation I fucking gave up and just let myself come deep inside Victoria's mouth, pushing my cock forwards and letting her tonsils tingle my bellend.

'Well ...' said Victoria, and she mumbled the words a little incoherently out of her cum-filled mouth, 'that was a surprise.'

I felt a little humiliated but willing to hold my hands up and admit what had happened.

'Man, I'm sorry Victoria, must be the weather or something; don't know what came over me ... or you if you want a pun lol.' Then I tried desperately to move the conversion onto something else. 'Well then, I'm going to have a look on the internet on my phone for a nearby zoo. Sound good?'

Due to Victoria's mouth still being deluged with my cum (she evidently didn't want to swallow that time) Victoria just nodded and mumbled a little seal of approval. But then she did swallow, and I felt reassured that she loved me.

'Right,' said Victoria, coughing to clear her throat, 'I'll make you the greatest fry-up known to man.'

'That's my girl Victoria.' And I proceeded to look on my phone for a good zoo. It really wasn't hard to find one.


So, I'd spent a couple of days with Victoria, there in the apartment in Lincoln, which was basically just a period of us fucking, sucking, getting stuff for the apartment, and pissing about in the city where we did pointless shit on Victoria's insisting, stuff like going to the cinema to see some shite fucking piece of Hollywood nonsense, as well as various trips to cafés where I had to endlessly try and make the effort to participate in a conversation with Victoria; and of course there was that zoo trip, the only highlight of it being when some vicious little fuck of a monkey tried to attack me – the little prick nearly pulled me through into its cage! MOTHER FUCKIN' SONGE.
Already, the city was starting to really fucking bore me, and although by no means did I miss Norwich city, I had a compulsive urge to put some true living into my life and take some hard fuckin' drugs right up my fuckin' nose. I also missed my days of punting for some 60 quid-a-blow hooker, but with Victoria around I definitely couldn't indulge in any of that shit.

I guess I'd spent so many fucking years in a bleak existence, that all I really wanted to do in life was to just rocket-blast my head off on drugs; I just didn't give a fuck about life. What's the fucking point, ay? You just die in the end pissing yourself with a colostomy bag bursting like a fuckin' curry in your shirt. Well fuck that shit.

However, saying all that, I have to admit I was glad that I had a woman as beautiful as Victoria to be with in life and satisfy my sexual needs; she also gave me a sense of something fucking purposeful in life, something to fill that empty hole of loneliness in; and I was beginning to appreciate it now for the first time in my life.

It was our 4th day there in the apartment, and I was sitting on the sofa in the living room, staring at the 200 quid TV that Victoria had made me purchase, staring at the black screen in utter boredom, when quite alarmingly the doorbell rang from the front door opposite.

'Victoria, the fucking door!' I called out, perceiving those irritating, resonating rings. 'Remind me to deactivate that mother fucker,' I thought.

'I'm in the bathroom, you'll have to get it Darren,' said Victoria. Can you believe it, the bitch was in the bloody bathroom, still!

'Oh for fuck sake,' I said, 'what's the point in having a Russian wife if she won't answer the effin door.' I shook my head as I walked over to it, breathing out in exasperation.

I was in for a surprise though, because when I opened the front door, I didn't see some fucking cunt of a postman, nor did I see some prick of a meter reader; instead I saw an old, familiar face from Norwich standing before me. It was none other than Tony fucking Tango, this prick, albeit an entertaining, charismatic one, who used to pedal me weed many, many years ago, a geezer that I went to school with actually, and who I'd regularly go down to this abandoned building with and smash the fucking bejezus out of it. A proper cunt Tony was of the first order, but still someone I was mildly excited to see.

'Well, well, well, if it ain't Tony mother fucking Tango. How the fuck did you find out where I live?' I crossed my arms and pretended to be really fucked off with his presence, like, 'MOTHER FUCKER GET THE FUCK OF MY PORCH BITCH!'

'Haha Darren, good to see you mate. I was thinking you'd say that. Well, you see, I live around this area too, and I saw you and this bird the other day leave this house. And I'm like, "Fuck me is that Darren from school with some Russian bird." And I'm also like, "Don't tell me this cunt lives around here too haha." Tony then proceeded to laugh like a crazy man. 'So, is it true then, you live around here in Lincoln Darren?'

'Yes it's true,' I said, grumpily, 'I got pestered by my Russian bird to get the fuck out of Norwich, and I've ended up here with her. Still, better than the shithole that is Norwich.'

'Haha, the Darren I once knew, the prostitute-loving, anti-girlfriend-having guy I knew at school ends up with a Russian bird. Well done son mate, well done ... Hey, how come I wasn't invited to the wedding?'

You can see what I meant by cunt, can't you.

'Well I was going to invite you but then I thought ... nahh.'

I think this really got to Tony as he instantly shut the fuck up and looked all humiliated like – that proper red in the face look.

'Anyway Darren mate,' said the cunt, rubbing his hands together, his mood going back up to cheery, like one of Willy Wonker's umpaloompas, 'you're gonna let me in for a cup of tea and chat?'

'Um ...' I said, not really wanting to have to let the prick in. 'Oh fuck it, why not, you got any weed on ya? Some tokes ay boy?'

'Not on me I'm afraid mate.'

'Well then, you'll have to get the fuck out then won't cha ya cunt.' I stared menacingly at the bloke for a second, with him seeming thoroughly threatened. Then I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. 'Haha, just kidding, come on in me good ol' pal.'

So there I was sitting on the sofa with Tony next to me, a can of lager each clasped in our hands, chatting away about life, big-bottomed birds, and smashing the fuck out of abandoned buildings. I have to admit, I was quite enjoying talking to the cunt, some proper easy convo where you could say whatever the fuck you liked and not give a single flying fuck.

'Haha Darren mate, remember when that Chinese geezer Jimmy Hung fell through that window at the building, remember that? Remember that do you? Haha.'

'Haha,' I said, slapping my knee with my free hand, 'I do actually yea, he went right through that window didn't he, and he's never seen again haha.'

We both laughed like a couple of bitches in da hood.

'Good times Darren ay, good times.'

'Yea man, good fucking times,' I said, taking a huge swig of my drink and chuckling when I pictured Jimmy Hung falling through that fucking window. HAHAHAHAHA.

Victoria had now finally come out of the bathroom, and as she walked on through into the living room she appeared aloof at the sight of Tony, who, like myself, was moderately intoxicated on lager.

'Victoria, this is a good pal of mine Tony Tango who I knew at school. We go back a long way.'

'Oh, hello,' said Victoria, glancing briefly at Tony. I could tell instantly that she didn't like him. But it made me like Tony a hell of a lot more for it; it made him seem real bad-ass to me, rather than the fuckin' nob ed he actually was.

Tony was swigging, a puffy-cheeked smile on his face, when he noticed Victoria walking through the room, and his eyes suddenly bulged.

'Well hello there girl,' he said, holding his hand up like some dirty old man. 'I'm Tony. Nice to meet you.'

Ignoring him, Victoria walked off into the kitchen. She seemed fucked off that we were drinking; but fuck the bitch, if I wanted a drink or two, I could have one. No bitch will ever curb my drinking habits; I would never allow that shit.

'Fuck me Darren, she's booootiful. Fuck she's hot.'

'Oh yea man, Russian born and bred, sucks my cock every night.'

'Pwoaaar,' said Tony, licking his lips obscenely. 'Does she uh, does she let you do other things to her does she?' Tony raised his left eyebrow up in some sly, devilish look.

'What other things?' I said, a little confused, continuing to swig.

'You know, does she let you ... does she let you smash her backdoors in?'

'Oh right,' I said, smiling, feeling very rude and naughty to be talking about anal sex with a mate. 'Yea, uh, she uh, she likes that very much indeed.'

Tony pulled a look of sheer ecstasy on his face and closed his eyes to make another Pwoaaar sound.

'Oh that cool Darren, that is some mother fuckin' cool shit. Pwoaaar. Hey tell me Darren, tell me, I've really got to ask you this question.' And right then and there Tony adjusted his poise, his body leaning towards me, and looked directly into my eyes with full sincerity. 'What is your view on coming in a girl's arse?'

'What is my view on coming in a girl's arse?' I said, sipping on my lager, feeling a little awkward.

'Yes,' said Tony, genuinely intrigued, his eyes blink-less.

'Well, yea, you know, I think it's ... good Tony, good.'

'You do? Because I've got this girlfriend now, this right fat girlfriend with black hair, Katy's her name, and I've been thinking about doing it with her. You know, exploding in her arsehole.'

'Oh right. BBW lover ay? Yea, they're pretty good I must say.'

'You see, she lets me in there and everything. The girl lets me do whatever the fuck I want really. But you see, I can never actually bring myself to come right inside that big ol' arse of hers. I always pull out, you know, jizz on her back or the sheets.'

'Right,' I said, and I really deeply began thinking about it, thinking about my general opinion on the matter of 'coming in a woman's arse'. 'So it's like you can if you want, come in her arse, but you're just not sure about actually doing it?'

'That's right. You see, I don't know if it's because it's like I'm repulsed or not or what. Or if it's like at that very moment at orgasm, I can foresee having come and like I can foresee myself repulsed and stuff. You understand what I'm saying?'

'Yea, you know, it's understandable. She's like this big fat girl, and you've got a few reservations about actually coming in there.'

'Up her pooshoot,' said Tony.

'Yes, up her pooshoot.'

'Yea, so like, what do you think I should do. Do you think I should actually brace myself and actually just shoot my fuckin' load in there? Or do you think I shouldn't bother?'

'Well Tony, if you want my actual honest opinion.'

'Yes I do. I want your honest opinion.'

'Well, then, I'd say, I think you should fucking come in her arse mate.'

'You do?'

'Yea mate. I mean, sure she's some big fuckin' whale of a girl. But fuck it, you know, you gotta make the most out of that sexual experience, you know something to tell the grandkids. I say, bite the bullet man, shout, "I'm gonna fuckin' come in your arse," and then explode a load of jizz right up there, so far up there that it doesn't seep out onto the sheets after.'

I think my opinion made Tony quite excited, as he began nodding and appearing all zestful.

'Yea, I hear what you saying man. You know what, I think that's decided then. I think I am gonna come in her fuckin' arse.'

'You see man, there's your answer.'

'Fuck yea,' said Tony – now he's really fuckin' excited, he's fuckin' buzzin' – 'I'm gonna come so hard in her arse man.'

We then did a little high-five to celebrate.

'Congratulations,' I said, lifting my can up and giving Tony my own personal approval.

We were both having a little chuckle when Victoria stuck her head through into the room and looked all paranoid.

'You're not talking about me are you?' she said.

'Uh ... what?' I said, averting my eyes from Tony. 'No, of course we're not.'

Without saying anything, Victoria went back into the kitchen, and Tony and I stared at each other.

'Haha, are you talking about me?' laughed Tony, in a pointless attempt at a whisper.

'I know, haha, stupid bitch.'

'Don't anybody talk about doing it up me pooshoot,' laughed Tony, doing this mad little voice.

We both sipped at our cans and continued catching up on old times, the dam good times.


'Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck me hard Darren!' screamed Victoria as I pounded her energetically and hard, her legs up over my shoulders and my cock drilling her snatch almost violently. 'Oh yes, yes, yes!'

'That's right baby, who's ya daddy girl?'

'You are Darren, you fucking are!!'

And it was with her moans egging me on that I went harder and harder than I ever realised I could fuck, to such an extent that my dick was getting sore like I had active, blistering herpes or some shit.

'Oh yea bitch, you dirty fucking bitch, I'm gonna fuck you crazy and hard girl. I'm gonna fuck you like rainman on speed that's what I'm gonna do.' Man, I felt like a mother fuckin' hip-hop artist right then and there, saying some vile, obscene shit and flexing my muscles like some broad-shouldered stud on a cycle of trenbolone. 'Oh yea girl,' and I pounded and pounded in spirit fuelled masculinity.

'Want me to turn around?' enquired Victoria.

'That would be nice,' I replied.

Although I was happy and content with the current position, I was obliged to let the missus take hold of the situation, and with her winking kinkily at me she turned around and got on all fours like a dog waiting to get fucked, that lil tush of hers up in the air, swaying side to side as her knees and palms dug into the mattress.

Lecherously, I stared at that tush, sweat dripping from my body, and my hard-as-a-rock cock aimed at it like an explosive nuclear missile. Then I positioned my front correctly against Victoria so that I could penetrate her in the most desired and lascivious style that I wanted to, which was, and which has been for quite some time, the glorious act known as 'face-down-ass-up'. And I was looking forward to it like a piping hot Christmas roast dinner.

'Mmm mmm,' I said, the tip of my cock now touching the palpable walls of the woman's cunt, which I could sense strong, those tight, hairless flaps of flesh warm and quivering. 'Now, put your face down towards the pillow, will you beautiful.'

She did so, and then glanced back at me with the most licentious, lubricous gleam in her eye.


'Yes, Victoria, my beautiful piece of crème brule,' I said. Then, thinking about that quirky American rap song, I added humorously, 'That's the way I like to fuck.' Haha, some real catchy shit.

Soon I was fucking the woman back and forth, vigorously and hard like before, and she moaned like some murderer's victim.

'Oh yes, yes Darren, harder, HARDERRR!!' she said, her hair swaying side to side as she bounced against me.

'Wayhaay!' I said, and, unable to resist the urge, I spanked her left arse-cheek hard, real hand-print style.

'Oh yes Darren,' said Victoria, going with the fucking motion before glancing back at me rather inquisitively. 'Hey Darren?'

I stared constantly at her arse as I fucked her. 'Yea beautiful?'

'I don't like that mate of yours Darren.'

'What mate of mine?' I said, Victoria bouncing back and forth against my cock like a rockin' chair – BOING BOING BOING BOING.

'That guy who was round here earlier, you know who I'm talking about.' Victoria was panting now, her eyes rolling about in circles, and her sweat touching my body.

'Who, Tony?' I was sweating as well, so much that I had to wipe it off my forehead with my forearm.

'Yea, Tony, I don't like him.'

'Yea, he's a cunt ain't he, an absolute prick.' Cheekily, I spanked Victoria again, and looked at the resulting hand-print – t'was like a child's hand-print of pink paint.

'I really don't like you talking to him, Darren.'

'Neither do I Victoria, he's a cuntface,' I said, not even knowing what I was talking about, my cock so filled up with blood that I thought it was going to explode inside Victoria.

'Good, that's good. I think you should stay away from him. He seems no good.'

'Yes, I agree, a real wrongin of a guy.' Man, I enjoyed fucking Victoria.

Then, almost out of the blue, it hit me and flabbergasted me that we were both talking about Tony, and I momentarily stopped fucking.

'Victoria? Why the fuck are we talking about Tony when we're supposed to be fucking, ay?'

'Yes, let's not talk about him.' Victoria smiled at me, raised her hand up to my face to lovingly stroke my cheek, and then focused back in front.

'Yes, fuck talking about Tony Tango.' Man, I grimaced at the thought of him before going at Victoria again, lighter than before. 'I tell you, thinking about him is the ultimate cure for premature ejaculation, that plus the image of David Cameron's cock inside a pig's head.'

'Shush,' said Victoria, trying to focus, 'stop talking about him.'

'Yes, don't worry, I will. He looks like a bloody gremlin he does.'

'Shush Darren.'

'Yes, I know beautiful, I know. Wow, fuck your heart-shaped tush is mind blowing.'

Now I was really fucking enjoying the fuck session, REALLY FUCKING ENJOYING IT.

'Oh, oh, oh!!! Victoria!!! Oh yesssss!' I moaned, sounding like that dog in that old Churchill advert.

Then suddenly, to my true fucking annoyance, the phone on our bedside table began ringing and ringing and ringing, and in raging anger I extended my arm out, picked it up, and yelled, 'Fuck off!!!' before slamming it back down. 'Mother fucker.'

'Oh yea Darren, fuck me harder!!'

'Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, BANANARAMMAAA!!'


What can I fucking say? I got a bit bored and decided that it would be a bit of fun to do something I hadn't done in a while: and that was to fuck a prostitute. Yes, there comes a time in a monogamous man's life when he must break the rules, and I was not hesitant in doing so.

Ok, I admit Victoria had certainly saved me a lot of money in the sex department, but I yearned for something to spice up my life, and going to see an escort like my earlier days is what I had planned: some nice cheap action with some skank of a ho. How fucking exciting.

'I have to go to Specsavers today,' I told Victoria at the kitchen table as I messaged an escort on on my phone to confirm that we were to meet in an hour's time.

'Oh really?' said Victoria, who was sitting opposite me at the table. 'I didn't know you had trouble with your sight.'

'Yea, I was surprised that I got a little bit of blurriness in my vision. I mean, it's not as if I wank too much, with you around, is it. Well, anyway, a trip to Specsavers is needed.'

'Ok, what time is your appointment?'

'In an hour Victoria,' I said, sending a message that said I was glad to meet the escort at her house further away in the city. Brunette and Spanish to the bone, this bird would be well worth the asking price of £70, which is what she requested for a half hour incall, well fucking worth it; her pictures looked fucking lush, and her tits were even better than Victoria's! And that's saying something!

'Well, I better make you some breakfast then,' said Victoria, standing up and after that heading over to the fridge to prepare me a nice hearty breakfast.

'Thank you V,' I said. Fuck, I tried my best not to smirk, but it was hard not to as it was so exhilarating knowing that my wife had no fucking idea what I was doing.

45 minutes later, I shut the front door behind me and, rubbing my hands excitedly together, visualising the Spanish escort with those plump Hispanic lips of hers sucking my cock, began heading off in the direction of the woman's house. It wasn't too hard to find with the help of google streetview, and as soon as I reached the street - a nice discreet one out of view of the main roads called Angel Street – I texted Monique, as the escort referred to herself, to say that I had arrived, and waited rather furtively with my hands in my pockets for a response.

Soon I began to get a lil impatient when, after 5 minutes, I didn't hear anything from her.

'Come on bitch,' I thought angrily, 'hurry up now you trollop.' I even started resorting to racism. 'Fucking Spanish, coming over here, treating us Brits like mugs.' But then to my luck I got a phonecall from the woman, and I took back everything I'd said.

'Hello,' I said, in a rather poofy fashion.

'You arriva at Angel Street, si?' came a lovely little voice.

'Yes, I'm standing here now. I feel like I'm at the right place. Boy do I feel at the right place.'

'Ah, si, I see you from window, come to door 54.'

Looking over at the house I'd been given the number to, I saw the curtains of the upper bedroom window move about a bit, and then, feeling a tad nervous – for I hadn't done this kinda shit in a while – sauntered off over to the house, my stomach mildly adrenalized.

Knock fucking Knock.

The door opened and I was greeted in a rather fucking splendid fashion by a dam sexy woman. She was much better looking than in her photos, looked to have a great pair of knockers beneath her dressing gown, and had a pair of eyes wide and dazzling like a lil nymphet.

'Man I am going to fuck this woman in the arse,' is the first thing that came to my lascivious mind as I stared at her in pure perv fashion.

'Come in senor,' said Monique, smiling all seductively at me, a twinkle of filthiness shining potently and iridescently in her eyes.
I walked slowly passed her, that waft of the usual prostitute perfume invigorating my senses, and admired – well kind of – the walls, which were covered in blue aero-plane patterned wallpaper, like the stuff you'd get in some young lad's room, most bizarre I tell you.

'This way,' said Monique, swerving past me, that twinkle more alive than ever, and heading up the stairs while I followed her, behind. (Fuck I was looking forward to devouring that gorgeous, plump arse. I couldn't wait to see it; I couldn't wait to feel it; I COULDN'T WAIT TO FUCK IT.)

We got upstairs and the sexy senorita showed me into a nice, dainty bedroom. The very first thing I noticed was that there was a black cat on the bed, a feisty little creature that looked all dosed up on benzos or some shit, all fucking drowsy like.

'Shoo,' said Monique, in a sexy lil attempt at sounding authoritative over the cat. 'Shoo.'

The cat jumped off, meowed in a ridiculous fashion, and lingered by the windowsill, the window open with air blowing the curtains back and forth.

'You've got a fine lookin' pussy,' I said, smiling at Monique, pure dimple-revealing style.

'Yes, you like cats?'

I nodded, seeing that she didn't get my pun, and waited for the action to commence. Man, show some booty girl.

'Now, was I supposed to pay her right then and there, or after?' I thought. 'Hmm.' I always used to pay them at the start, so I took out some cash from my jacket pocket – the full seventy quid – and handed it out to the sassy mistress. 'Here is the 70 pounds, all there, in nice, crisp notes.'

'Gracias,' said Monique, taking the money and putting it on the bedside table where I instantly noticed the pack of Durex 'Extra Safe' condoms next to her Blackberry phone. 'Haha, good old Durex,' I thought.

Monique then looked at me directly and pointed at the bed, a nice, comfy looking one with fresh, clean sheets.

'Would you please take your clothes off and get onto the bed.' Man she was a pro at this shit.

'Wayhay,' I thought, 'take off has commenced.'

So, one by one, I flung off a piece of clothing, starting with my shoes and ending with my shirt, and soon I was butt-naked on the bed where, waiting while Monique went off to the bathroom to sort something out, I began getting my cock working with my hand, up down, nice and briskly. I could hear the cat purring by the bed, and I looked at it while I jacked myself from a semi to a full erection. The creature's eyes were narrowed, and it looked like it was genuinely enjoying the sight of me with my hand on my todger.

'You like this do you?' I said, jokingly, staring at those emerald eyes, and registering the purring. The cat certainly looked like it did. And I even began to get slightly turned on. But I brushed that thought from my mind and visualised Monique and what I would very shortly be doing with her. 'Mmm mm.' Where's the booty girl?

The lady soon returned and looked fairly delighted to see me kneeling on the bed with a great, sturdy erection tilted perfectly up at a 90 degree angle. I looked virile as fuck; and looking at Monique I let a conceited smile form on my face, one of those ones with a star sparkling on my teeth, one that said, 'Oh yea, I is ready to fuck girl.'

'Ah, senor, I see you ready for some fucky,' said Monique, walking slowly over to the bed. Then, before I could anticipate it, she flung her gown off her body, causing my mouth to open wide in a shudder of a shock.

'Oh my god!' I thought, gazing at an absolutely fucking divine body, one sensuous, plump, and soft figure, like one in a fine acrylic painting, with breasts exquisitely voluptuous and some wonderful stomach cleavage to go with it. And as I stared licentiously at her, my cock stiffened even more so that it ached and I thought for a second that I had priapism. 'Definitely will not be needing Viagra, that's for sure.'

I was going to say something humorous or silly when Monique smiled, leaned herself forward, and began getting onto the bed, pushing me forward as she did so.

'You have nice, firm chest,' she said, stroking it with her soft-as-fuck hands and smiling with glossy teeth. 'A manly chest.'

'Yes, I do the odd push-up every now and then, haha,' I said, idiotically, but lost in a whirlwind of mother fuckin' lust!

She continued to stroke my chest a little more and then got down to some real funky business by moving her face south and sucking my cock.

'Oh my ...' I uttered, as I felt my cock become warmly wet and sucked on slowly and sensuously. 'Oh that's great Victoria, I mean Monique.' The bliss I felt was fiercely strong and wild, and I placed my hand on the back of Monique's head, her hair plush in my palm, and pushed her face down my cock. 'Oh fuck that is gooooood.'

'You like to have your dicky sucked?' she enquired, temporarily releasing my meat from her mouth and rolling her eyes up at me cheekily, the dirty bitch.

'Very much,' I replied. I looked at her and then, closing my eyes, pressed her head back down on my cock. 'Very much indeed.'

The woman sucked and sucked away, the purring of the cat sounding loud and clear in my ears, and I started purring too, my cock so fucking hard I couldn't even feel her teeth as they slightly dug into my flesh, teasing me and sending me into a frenzy of priapic virility, nibbling the tip and gazing at me as she did so.

After a while I could tell that the woman was a bit tired of sucking because she looked up at me, met my eyes, and said, 'You want come in my mouth.'

'Um ...' I uttered, not knowing what to say; I really wanted to at least try some penetration with her. 'We could do it doggystyle first.'

'Alright,' she said, looking a little disappointed for some reason. It was almost like I was some boyfriend ruining a truly romantic moment.

Hastily, she got up off me, and as she moved over to her bedside table to get the packet of condoms, I playfully bounced my cock up and down with my hand.

'Haha,' I thought, watching it go, 'what a stiffy. Look at that beast bounce.' I glanced at the purring cat and smiled at it. 'Good, ay?' I thought, watching the cat's narrowed eyes, continuing to register its rather husky purring. But then the sight of it, for some reason, plus the purring, began to turn me on, and I had to look away. 'Snap out of it Darren, snap out of it mate,' I said to myself, shaking my head.

With the condom now out of the packet, Monique began rolling it onto my cock effortlessly like a real pro of a ho. It covered my cock well, and at that moment I thought how my stiff cock inside it rather reminded me of David Cameron's face. 'Haha, uncanny,' I thought, 'what a striking resemblance.'

'So darling, doggystyle, si?' said Monique, smiling at me and then turning around, her arse looking like a tasty fruit, one that I'd love to have slapped a bit of whip-cream on and licked off like some famished alligator. 'Mmm mm.'

'Si,' I said; and slowly I moved right up close to Monique and began positioning myself against her. Then I placed my hands on her hips and I felt very nearly giddy from the feel of her flesh. It felt so different to any British woman's flesh; fuck, it felt different even to Victoria's; this was like some full-on warmth I'd never experienced before.

'Oh your arse is soft Monique,' I said, grasping it, the latex tightening around my David Cameron.

'Very soft, and very fuckable,' said Monique.

'Pwoaar, that is some kinky shit.'

Then, suddenly loosing myself completely, I lowered my face and decided to perform on Monique an act that I hadn't even done on Victoria: The Crescent Moon. And with my face right up close to her arse-cheeks, I stuck out my tongue, slipped it in-between those fleshy cushions, which felt like two balloons filled with warm water pressed together, and licked, in true throbbing style, all the way up from her cunt to her arsehole. And what a fucking experience that was let me tell you. It tasted like some sweet dish from a fine waffle house; it tasted like the devil's paradise turned sweet like nectar.

Monique seemed to have enjoyed that and snickered a little like a schoolgirl as I raised my face back up and prepared for penetration.

'You is naughty girl,' I said. 'You is naughty, naughty, naughty.'

I was about to insert my cock into Monique's cunt when I thought about that tight arsehole of hers, that tight, positively delicious arsehole of hers.

'Monique?' I said, rather audaciously.

Monique made a little sound, which I took for a 'Yes?'

'I couldn't ... do it in your arse could I?'

'What? I do not understand,' said Monique.

'What I mean is, could I have anal sex with you, please?'

Monique seemed to ponder on it before saying, 'It is £50 extra.'

'What?!' I thought, outraged. '50 quid extra?? Outrageous!!!' I was absolutely frustrated by this. But then, thinking it over, thinking how horny I was, and how much of an experience it would be to come hard inside this Spanish beaut's arsehole, I nodded. 'Alright. That's good. I can pay you after can't I?'

'Yes, in cash.'

'Why of course Monique,' I said. 'Of course.'

Smiling, the feisty mistress turned her face back in front, and I exhaled in preparation for some true kink, grabbing my cock and preparing to put it in her arsehole.

'Man, this is going to be so fun,' I thought. Fuck, I felt 15 again, being in a classroom, and witnessing my English teacher bending over with that pert arse of hers wiggling beneath her black cotton dress; and oh how I would fantasise about shoving my cock deep into her anal orifice. Pwoaar!

So, parting Monique's arse-cheeks, I took a look at that rather pinkish hole of hers, and put the very top of my hard cock against it. It felt very tight, and I realised some lubrication was going to be needed.

'Bit of spit will do the job well,' I said, laughing.

I spat a heap of saliva onto my cock, rubbed it all over, and then began pressing it against her arsehole; and as it slowly began to go in, feeling all thick, warm, and moist, I suddenly let out a deep, intense moan, my mouth widening from the extremely sensuous feeling of it.

'Oh my god!' I said, pushing my dick slowly into her arse. 'Oh Queen Elizabeth the Second, this is some intense shit.' I couldn't insert it any faster or else I felt I'd come too soon in sickly bursts of the thick, yoghurt-like stuff.

'Oh yes, put it in me,' moaned Monique, giving me what I wanted to hear.

'Can't go any faster darling,' I said, panting and shuddering from an extreme bout of bliss. 'Oh I really, really can't.'

Once it was all in, I just let it lay there right inside her arsehole, stiff as fuck and surrounded by this thick, warm, gel-like substance.

'Oh that is lovely; that's just grand,' I said, like some horny version of Wallace from Wallace And Gromit.

I swallowed, completely overwhelmed, my eyes wide, before placing the palm of my hand on her very lower back and letting it rest there. Then slowly, when I felt I could, I started going ever so gently back and forth, trying not to explode right away.

'Oh yes, this is better than Victoria, this is so much better that Victoria! Fuck me, how could it be, but it is, it is so much better than going up Victoria's arse! Must be a Spanish thing I guess. Yes, I've heard many good things about Spanish women's arseholes.'

Monique didn't seem to give a fuck about what I was saying, she just moaned away, saying stuff like, 'Oh, oh, si, si, si, si.'

'Si indeed girl, si indeed.'

I went as fast as I could, and then, feeling my balls lose complete control, I yelled out, 'I'M COOMMMING!!!!', flumped over forward, and exploded like a grenade inside her rectum, my eyes closed and my muscles quivering. I could feel the hot cum at the end of the condom, and I thought it was going to burst from the amount of jizz that there was – metaphorical gallons of the stuff.

'Oh, fuck me, that felt good Monique,' I said, panting, my hand wrapped around her warm stomach. 'Like a ticket to Spain t'was that, haha.'

'Si,' said Monique.

It was gradually that I let my cock grow limp a bit and then collapsed down onto the bed, sweat covering my body, and my chest contracting and dilating from some kind of exhaustion.

'Fuck me,' I said. 'That was some serious arse fucking.'

Monique, sitting by me, looked a little lost for words, a little dazed if you will, but then smiling she said, 'So, £50, gracias.'

I glanced at her, a huge grin forming on my face, and nodded.

'I'll get my wallet.'


'There you go Tony my mate,' I said, handing Tony a bottle of Newcastle Brown before flinging myself down on the sofa next to him, my arms stretching out at the back in a relaxed fashion. Yes, Victoria had fucked off to do some shopping, and seeing that I had the place to myself, I thought it would be cool to have a have a nice social drinking session with me ol' pal.

'Ah, cheers Darren mate,' said Tony. He took the bottle and we both swigged simultaneously, the cool refrigerated ale refreshing our senses. 'Great shit this is, ahh, lovely jubbly.'

'The finest ale known to man,' I said, conceitedly.

'You know,' said Tony, 'I tried the anal thing with that fat girl I was telling you about.'

'Katy's the one?'

'That's right, kinky Katy. Yea, well, let me tell you Darren, it got a little messy I have to say.'

'Haha,' I laughed, 'how messy?'

'Well, let's just say it took about three washes to get them sheets cleaned properly afterwards.'

'Fucking nasty shit man.' I laughed, pretty repulsed, but also thoroughly entertained by the mental picture of shit-stained sheets, especially some fat bitch's sloppy faecal matter.

'Yea, I mean let me tell you mate, I came real hard in the arse, enjoyed it immensely, but when I yanked me thing out, this load of fucking shit went everywhere, loads of globs of the stuff. It was like some muddy disaster of some sort. Man I don't know what that fuck that bitch eats, but shit stank like crazy.'

'Fuckin' hell man, bet it was an experience though.'

'Fuckin' sure was mate, fuckin' sure was.' Tony laughed like a bitch, and I hit my knee hard a couple of times, laughing like a bitch too.

I was taking another hard swig of my ale when I saw the front door opening with Victoria's distorted, pixelated silhouette coming forward.

'Oy oy, your missus back I see,' said Tony.

Man, I couldn't help but feel glum and dreary at Victoria's return. It was strange really; although Victoria was this beautiful, big bosomed beauty from the fine country of Russia, she was also taking away a lot of my personal freedom and space; and her arrival was parallel to that of being a teenager alone at home and suddenly being struck by the unwanted return of your parents.

'Yes, Victoria, she's back,' I said.

At the sudden sight of Tony, Victoria grimaced, in no attempt at being discreet, and headed with a bagful of what looked like vegetables over into the kitchen.

'Hey mate,' said Tony, all excited like. 'Your bird just winked at me. Think she likes me.'

'Yea mate,' I said, smiling, 'she fucking loves you mate, she fucking loves you.'

Then Victoria called out from the kitchen.

'Hey Darren,' she said, 'you couldn't come in here for a second, could you?'

I huffed and ran the palm of my hand down the side of my face.

'Alright, just a sec.'

Tony, looking all depraved with his red, puffy, debauchery-ridden face, leaned towards me and spoke with sly words.

'Haha, reckon she's gonna give you a cheeky blowjob in there, ay, ay, do ya, ay?'

'Man I wish,' I replied, taking one last huff before slowly raising my body up and heading over to the kitchen, my bottle clasped in my hand.

When I got through into the room, I immediately received the sullen look from Victoria that I'd been anticipating.

'What is he doing in here?' she said, her hand on her hip in a somewhat ridiculous style – but it was very sexy, I have to admit, very sexy indeed.

'We, Victoria, are having a nice little drink in there,' I said, deciding not to take any more of Victoria's crap and moving intimidatingly forward towards the pissed off woman. 'And if you don't like it, then that's tough shit girl.' Now I was right up close to her and taking, what looked like, a drunken swig of my fine Newcastle Brown.

'What, you are drunk now?' she said, more disappointed and let down than anything.

'Um ...' I said, not knowing what I should say. Then I put my hand on my hip like her and let my eyes bulge slightly out of my face. 'No, I am not drunk girl.' Man, I sounded like a right poofter.

'You reek of booze Darren.'

'Oh fuck you girl,' I said, even more poofy than before. 'I'm having a good mo-fo of a time with my pal Tony mo-fo Tango.'

'I don't like you hanging about with that man,' moaned Victoria.

'Girl, just what you got against my pal Tony, huh?'

'I ... don't know. I just don't like him. He's creepy. He's got a real creepy vibe about him.'

'Haha,' I couldn't help but laugh. 'I guess he is kind of creepy ain't he, bit of a pedo look about him I guess.'

'Darren, I'm being serious. I don't like him. And I don't want him coming round here.'

I was still smirking from Victoria calling Tony a creep when abruptly my little humorous moment lifted and I began to actually feel quite violent, like Mike Tyson.

'Now listen here girl,' I said, my face scrunching up and my forefinger pointing sternly at Victoria. 'I'll have my friend round if I want to, and no woman is gonna stop that. You hear?' Then I started prodding the woman's shoulder. 'You hear me, ay?? Ay??'

'Darren, stop prodding me,' said Victoria, moving herself away.

'Fuck!' I said, feeling frustrated and running the palm of my hand down the side of my face again. 'Just give me a bleedin' break, will ya girl?!'

'All I'm asking is that you don't invite that ... man around here Darren. If I can even call him a man. He looks like some kind of elf for god's sake.'

'Dam it Victoria!' I said, slapping my hand down on the sink side. 'Can't a man have a good time around here??' I took a huge swig of my drink and looked grumpily at Victoria. 'You know, fuck you girl, just fuck you, I'll have who I want round, you hear me, who I want girl.'

Then, taking another swig, I stormed off back into the living room, sensing Victoria's hostile look behind and also the sound of her folding her arms.

'Bitch,' I said, as I flung my arse down on the sofa, Tony looking up at me all furtive like.

'The missus givin' you a hard time is she?' said Tony.

'Yea, the usual grief. Fuck, the bitch stresses me out sometimes.' I huffed and didn't hesitate to take a swig. 'Man she stresses me out.'

'You know mate,' said Tony, 'if you want something to help you relax, I've got something special you may like.'

'What, you mean like some weed?' I said.

'Yea mate, I've got some special shit called Blue Cheese at home. Some proper good shit. Destressalizes you and shit, gets you high as fuck.'

'Mmm, Blue Cheese, high as fuck, sounds good mate, sounds good.'

'Hey, I'm tellin' you Darren mate, this some quality fuckin' shit.'

'So what's Blue Cheese? That like special imported weed or something?'

'Just some good skunk mate.'

'Hmm Skunk, don't usually do that stuff, but could definitely have some of that shit to ease the tension.'

'I tell you Darren, it makes your head spin, the works. I mean you can get high just snifin' that shit.'

'Man,' I said, nodding and smiling, 'I bet it's a nice smell as well.'

'Yea man, like sage with a bit of mint and shit.'

'Mmm nice, very nice. Funny though, caus I always found skunk to smell like body odour for some reason.'

'Yea, well I'll get you some of the Blue Cheese mate, will get you some of that beauty.'
'Awesome man, how much you want for it?'

'A tenner's a gram mate,' replied Tony, devouring his ale with enthusiasm.

'Right, get me fuckin' 3 grams of that shit will ya,' I said, happy-as-fuck at the prospect of smokin' some good fuckin' marijuana – had been too long, way, way too long since I'd last had a toke.

'Will throw in an extra gram just for you mate, an extra gram, how does that sound?'

'That sounds like a mother fuckin' dam good deal,' I said; and I joyfully brought my bottle up in the air to do a toast with Tony.

Then, reaching into my trouser pocket, I pulled out some creased notes, quickly counting 30 quid, and threw the cash in Tony's lap.

'Here mate, money upfront,' I said. 'Don't worry, I trust you. Otherwise I'll smash the fuckin' shit out of your ribs boy.' Then I swigged, smiling.

'Hey, you will not be disappointed,' said Tony, putting the money away in his filthy jean pocket.

Taking continuous swigs, I breathed out, and felt as if I'd already had a good toke.

'So, you toke a lot do you Tony?'

'I do my fair share of MJ, it's true; but at the moment, I've been smoking a bit of the Henry.'

'What, heroin??' I said, a bit surprised.

'Yea, but, you know, I'm not addicted or anything like that. I just do it every now and then. It like helps me to relax and get through the day.' Tony then took a gulp of his ale rather awkwardly.

'Fuckin' hell Tony, you're a crazy mother fucker, you know that, a fuckin' crazy mother fucker.' I chuckled a little and gazed drunkenly at my bottle, really appreciating that sweet taste.

'Yea, it's funny actually. I got this girl I often see, smack-addict to the fuckin' bone man, and like, I get her some gear, right, in exchange for like ... blow-jobs and hand-jobs and shit.

'No shit?' I said, surprised again, a frown forming above my eye-brows, 'you serious mate?'

'Yea, she really does suck me well, drains my balls mate.'

'You know, you gotta be careful though. I mean, the bitch might have Hepatitis C, or maybe even Aids or some shit.'

'Nah, this girl looks clean enough Darren. Besides, I always use a rubber Johnny with this girl. Well, for penetration anyway.'

'Durex 'Extra Safe'? I said, almost smirking humorously.

'Hey, that's the one Darren.'

'Haha, you really is a crazy mother fucker Tony,' I said. Then, laughing once real manically, I rattled my bottle and breathed out. 'Hey, you want another ale man?'

'Hey mate, keep em comin', keep em' comin',' replied Tony, optimistically.

I clashed my bottle once more with his before getting up and heading off towards the kitchen. I was about to enter when Victoria brushed passed me – still really fuckin' annoyed – and headed off over to the bedroom around the side.

'Fuckin' moody bitch,' I said quietly.

After glancing back at her, a little amused at the sight of the woman giving Tony a mean-spirited look, I went to get some more fine-ass beer from the fridge.


My hand was firmly on Victoria's arse as we stood by the river on a packed sunny day. There were pigeons everywhere, dozens of the mother fuckers roaming about for bread and crumbs and shit, and I glanced at a flock of them being fed my some old lady in a headscarf while I groped Victoria's edible behind.

'Mmm, peachy,' I said quietly, my mind in state of tranquillity.

'What's that Darren?' said Victoria, resting the side of her head against my shoulder as she gazed at the rippling patterns in the river's water in front.

'Your arse, it's peachy,' I said, like Homer Simpson.

Breathing in, I continued squeezing it and then noticed some young lad, over near where the old lady was, licking some large Walls ice-cream and watching me with this gleam of curiosity in his eye. I couldn't help but smile amiably his way, as I thought how much he reminded me of myself at that age, pretty innocent, but still old enough to appreciate the art of true human communication, which is what myself and Victoria were engaging in.

'Peachy, that's a nice word,' said Victoria.

I laughed a little and thought vividly of a peach in my mind, then Victoria's arse, then the peach again.

'It describes your arse perfectly dear,' I said, and carried on squeezing it, grasping that flesh and digging my fingers into it like a piece of mouldable clay.

'Look at the view Darren, isn't it lovely.'

I looked at it, nearly wanting to shriek; it bored me immensely, just a few tacky boats and a bunch of bushes past that. I much preferred visualising Victoria's tight, hairless cunt with that perfectly tucked away clitoris tantalising my senses.

'Not as lovely as the sight of your arse dripping wet in the morning after you've had a shower.' I pictured it and smiled contently.

'No seriously Darren, putting my body aside, isn't it a lovely sight.'

'Yes, very nice Victoria, very nice,' I said, a little exasperated but trying not to sound too obviously bored. Then as I stared at a boat – a small fucking piece of shit of a one – I thought about how I'd always wanted to live on one when I was younger, but was never able to. 'I always wanted to live on a boat when I was younger, you know.'

'Really? How come?'

'Don't know, I read Young Adam, and I thought, "Yea, that's the life for me".'

'I haven't read Young Adam, what's it about?'

'Never mind,' I said. Man, I was a little bored of Victoria's ignorance to nearly everything I knew about. 'Good book though.'

'I'll have to read it.'

'Yes you should, great read.'

I soon got back to groping Victoria's arse and stared at that piece of shit of a boat, dirt and grime surrounding the lower sides of it, mould fuckin' everywhere.

'We should have a fuck on a boat sometime,' I said, my fingers moving towards the groove of my missus' arse.

'Oh, here we go again, sex, sex, always sex with you.'

'Don't be such a prude Victoria,' I protested.

'Oh, I'm a prude am I? The prude that has been sucking your cock nearly every night.' Victoria accidentally said that a little too loudly – a couple of glances coming our way – and I nearly snickered because of it.

'Well it's not every night is it Victoria,' I said.

'Fuck you Darren.'

Irritably, Victoria budged away from me and folded her arms in vexation.

And in some kind of equal irritation, I crossed my arms too.

'Bloody prude.'

'You are an asshole Darren.'

'Please for fuck sake, it's arsehole here in England, not asshole: it's not a yank land is it.'

Victoria didn't say anything else; she just looked mildly humiliated and shook her head, her arms still crossed; I could tell she was going a little red in the face.

Soon I got fucking bored with gazing out at that shite river and those shoddy boats and, running the palm of my hand down my face, huffed.

'Right, I think we should go home, it's fucking boring here I tell you. Fucking boring.'

'I'm not talking to you,' said Victoria.

'Come on, let's just go home. We'll watch a movie or something.'

'Are you going to apologise?'

'Yes, yes, I'm sorry Victoria,' I said, quickly and just for the sake of it, 'let's watch a film or something. I've Last Tango In Paris waiting for us at home.'

'What's that about?'

'You've never heard of Last Tango In Paris?' I said, flabbergasted that my missus didn't even know about one of the greatest erotic films ever made, and arguably Marlon Brando's greatest performance, despite the fact that he couldn't be asked to learn his lines.

'No, I haven't, what's it about?'

'It's an absolute classic Victoria, 5 star reviews, you name it. It's got Marlon Brando in it.'

'Oh Marlon Brando, from Superman? I liked that film.'

'Yea, that's him. Trust me, if you loved Superman, you'll love this film.'

And as if miraculously cheered up, Victoria smiled and put her arm in mine. Then, with me smiling back at her, we sauntered off home.


Knock Knock.

'Tony my good ol' pal,' I said, opening the door and immediately noticing that the bloke had this gaunt looking bird by his side, real thin and skinny like, with turquoise coloured veins cluttered all over her face. 'I see you've brought someone along mate.' I smiled at the girl and then at Tony.

'Hey mate Darren, this is that girl I was tellin' you about,' said Tony, giving me a little discreet wink. 'Chantelle.' Then he looked at the woman, who looked doped out to the eyeballs I must say. 'Hey Chantelle, introduce yourself to Darren. Go on girl.'

'Why the fuck do I need to? You just did,' said the woman, chewing some gum in that narrow looking mouth of hers, her cheeks like a fish's being sucked in. But what that mouth do though??

'Hey, be nice now,' warned Tony, pointing at her, looking like some disciplinary teacher ready to beat the living shit out of some deadbeat kid.

'Well Chantelle, it's nice to meet you,' I said.

I gave her an affable smile and nodded a few times.

Chantelle was definitely a bit rude as she avoided eye contact with me, but I continued to smile nevertheless.

'Well come on in, ay?' I said, moving to the side to let the two doped up cunts in.

And it was in the living room that I watched Tony and Chantelle loiter about by the couch, my corrupt, licentious eyes on Chantelle, observing her rake-thin figure and her bony body. Man, she looked so fucking gaunt, and skanky too, real skanky, with tied-back hair – one of those forehead-lift styles – and dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt with the words Le chic written on the front of it in pink letters. Her tits also looked dam small too. And I really hoped that she didn't have Hepatitis, HIV, or even Herpes for that matter.

As I stared at the young woman, who was chewing gum rather impertinently, Tony walked up to me and slapped a smallish bag of weed in my hand.

'There you go mate, there you go,' he said, before wiping his nose with the back of his hand and looking like he was going to hawk.

Intrigued, I looked at the bag, sensing the smell right away: some strong stuff, like armpit odour, without a doubt skunk.

'Blue Cheese?' I said.

'Some fine Blue Cheeeeeese,' said Tony, before walking over to the centre of the room and looking at Chantelle. 'Nice place ain't it Chantelle, don't cha fink girl?'

Chantelle, not in the least bit interested and completely fucking insouciant, just shrugged her angular shoulders and carried on chewing.

'Nice place in-fucking-deed,' said Tony. Then, moving his head, he turned his gaze at me. 'Hey, the missus not here then?'

'No, thank fuck for that, bitch is out for a bit,' I said, taking a sniff off the packet and straight away feeling giddy from that truly beautiful and spellbinding smell. God the stuff smelt good I tell ya, real goooood.

'Hey, what's that?' said Tony, noticing an HD DVD-inbuilt camcorder (something that Victoria had made me buy in the city one time) on the table by the TV.

'Oh, that's just some fucking electronic shit that Victoria thought would be good to "capture some time-keeping moments".'

'Haha, to film her sucking you off!'

'Haha,' I laughed too. 'Hadn't thought of that.'

It was shortly then that Tony took a creased brown paper-bag from his jacket, flung his jacket off, and as he took out the items in the bag I frowned a little. First I saw a hypodermic needle, then a spoon, and then of a couple of sachets of different coloured powder.

'What, you gonna shoot up now?' I said.

'Oh yea!' said Tony, all excited like and yanking his belt violently from his trousers. 'Hey, do us a favour will you Darren, get us a glass of water from the kitchen mate.'

Without saying anything, I headed off into the kitchen, filled up a glass, and headed back into the living room where I laid the glass down on the carpet next to the soon-to-be-off-his-fucking-head-on-smack bloke.

Chantelle was just standing there by the sofa, watching somewhat appetizingly as Tony crouched down on the floor and began pouring in some powders into his spoon.

Then the hypodermic-handed guy looked up at Chantelle, all paranoid and shit.

'Hey Chantelle, sit down or something will you girl, you making me tense for fuck sake just standing there. Man, I don't need you staring or weird and shit at me girl. Go on, sit your bony arse down on that sofa. Fucking hell.'

Rudely, and in her only kind of huff, Chantelle flung herself back on the sofa, while I stood there in the middle of the room, watching Tony rather curiously, and feeling myself beginning to get all excited. Fuck, I'd never seen anyone shoot up right in front of me before, never I tell ya! And this was going to be some sight.

Once some water was in the spoon, Tony flicked a plastic lighter below it and started cooking the shit rather professionally. I watched it boil like butter in a pan, and could also smell its fumy, chemical aroma, quite a quaint but also lurid scent on the old nez; I have to admit, I fucking liked it. After that, the geezer wrapped the belt around his arm – securing it tight as fuck around his bicep – then sucked up some of the 'juice' with the needle, and then without even looking sensibly for a good, decent vein just jabbed that son-of-a-bitch into his arm, sucking and plunging like an ejaculating cock inside a woman's mouth. And about 20 seconds later, Tony let his knees fall down to the ground with a click and let out a rather rapturous sound of glee from his mouth.

'WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! YEA MAN, WOOO!!!! THAT FEELS GREAT!!!! WOOOO!!! YEEEHAAAAA! BOYYYY!!!!' he said, moving his head about in euphoria and massaging his fingers into his cheeks.

He soon looked up at me, his eyes all droopy and shit, and with rather slurred speech said, 'Yo Darren mate, you wanna hit?'

'No, it's alright mate, you ... knock yourself out ay,' I replied, taking another sniff of the skunk and deciding I might as well have a toke while I was standing there. 'Hey Tony mate, you got any ritz papers? Any backi?'

'Jacket ... pocket,' replied the stupefied man, slurred again, and looking like he was really feeling his hit, his head moving slowly about in circles and intense pants coming from his mouth.

Swiftly I moved over to his filthy jacket and took out a packet of ritz papers and also a grinder that I found amongst some packets of pills and condoms. Nodding, I decided to leave the backi.

'Heeeey!' said Chantelle, looking all envious of Tony, who was breathing in and out rather profoundly on the floor and looking off his fucking head on cloud mother fucking nine. 'I want my hit already!'

'You ... you want ... your hit,' came the reply – the bloke's speech still slurred as fuck – 'then you gotta ... suck me and Darren off. And since I'm pretty fucked up right now, I think it's best you suck Darren off first.'

'Oh, I want my fucking hit first,' whinged Chantelle. 'I want my hit you ... stinky gremlin!'

'Hey girl,' continued Tony, rubbing at his greasy, rather florid face, his pupils all strange and fluctuating in circumference and size, 'be a good girl now. Be a good girl. You get your hit once you suck ... my good pal ... Darren off. You hear?'

'Oh, for fuck sake.' And then the sulky, heroin-deprived woman looked at me, who'd now nearly finished rolling a joint (I had to crumble the sticky skunk up in my fingers onto the paper). 'Come on then, let's get it over with. I want my hit already.'

I glanced up at her as I licked the papers of my joint together, rolling that beaut rather intricately up, and my tongue wet from the glorious taste.

'Well, you gonna fuck my mouth or what?' she said.

Man, was I really gonna fuck this probably diseased junkie of a girl in the mouth? Was I really going to sink that low? COURSE I FUCKIN' WAS!

'Just a minute sweetheart,' I said, securing my joint between my lips and walking over to a dosed up Tony and picking up the lighter. Then, with a great, glowing flame igniting, I lit my joint and took my first puff of a truly splendid toke.

'Don't call me sweetheart.'

But I ignored the impertinent junkie bitch, and three or four puffs later I felt my head spin like I was going through a fucking wormhole; I felt like I was taking off into space or some shit, surfing at light-speed past all them fucking stars.

'Fucking quality,' I uttered slowly, blowing a thick, spectral circle of bud-infused smoke out ma bouche.

'Come on already, fuck my mouth,' whinged Chantelle.

'Hey calm yourself girl, calm yourself,' I said, slowly putting my hand out in her direction in some kind of gesture of reassurance, and then, letting that joint lay like a branch's twig between my lips, beginning to unfasten my belt from my jeans. 'I will fuck your mouth girl, but be patient girl, be patient.'

And so I soon moved up to the Class-A craving woman and after checking her mouth – no cold sores thank fuck for that – I began taking my semi-erect cock out of my trousers, the joint still clasped between my lips without the aid of my hands, and letting Chantelle take my flesh-constructed bat in her dry, heroin-ravished mouth.

As she slowly started sucking, her tongue swirling against my bellend like some wriggling worm, I looked up at the ceiling, sucking in smoke from the joint and blowing it out through my nostrils like shooting stars. Right at that moment I envisioned some divine creation, threaded within the perimeters of plaster, staring down at me from the ceiling; and I almost wanted to boast about my toking skills, vaunt about how I could toke like a mother fuckin' champ!

'Look, no hands!' I wanted to say, as Chantelle slowly sucked away at my gradually expanding cock.

In the background, I heard Tony say, 'See mate, she sucks cock good,' the words slow and beautifully distorted, but I disregarded them and just gazed up at the ceiling, my eyes searching through the small clouds of white skunk-tyrannized mist. What a beautiful feeling: beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful ...


'Bitch get off my shit girl!' I yelled, sitting on the sofa and clawing my fingers down my face while a deeply pissed off Victoria went about the room spraying it with citrus-scented air freshener.

'I can't believe this Darren. The whole place smells of that disgusting stuff you've been smoking. Where did you get that nasty stuff from anyway, huh?? Was it from that vile man you've been hanging around with, that Tony, was it him??'

'Girl, if I want a joint every now and then, then I'll have a mother fuckin' joint every now and then,' I said, feeling my blood pressure rise to the roof. Fuck, I needed a joint right then and there just to ease the unbearable stress and tension building up in my body.

'This place reeks of that stuff. Why would you want to smoke that anyway? It just makes you paranoid and delusional.'

'Caus it makes me feel the way I wanna feel girl,' I said, looking at the woman, who was now by the living room curtains, spraying the fuck out of them with that natural air freshener, that citrusy scent fighting the illicit, aberrant musk of skunk.

'Oh, does it really? Well in that case, why don't you just stick to your bloody booze or that Valium even?!'

'You know,' I said, standing abruptly up, my blood pressure higher than ever, 'I don't have to take this shit from you. I'm sick of your nagging woman, I'm out of here.'

And while she nagged and moaned away, giving me a load of aloof, antagonized glances, I grabbed my leather jacket from the hallway and headed forwards towards the door.

'Oh that's right, just walk away and leave me to deal with this stench why don't you?! Bastard!'

With my face scrunched up in anger, I opened the door, walked hastily outside, and let a fucked off Victoria slam the door behind me.

'Bitch!' I bellowed out into the street, placing my hands in my pockets, and moving fretfully down the pavement. 'Fucking Russian cunt.' Then, fiddling around in my pockets, I took out a pre-rolled joint that I'd kept in there, stuck it in-between my tense lips and lit that mother fucker like the speed of light. 'Oh that's beautiful,' I uttered, closing my eyes and embracing that soothing effect that good marijuana so cordially produces, that soothing, yielding effect. 'Oh I needed that, fuck I needed that toke.'
Exhaling the smoke, I then took out my phone and clicked on Tony's name. And in no time at all I got his weedy, minion-like voice – 'Supp Darren?'

'Hey Tony mate,' I said, holding the phone up to my ear as I toked incessantly down the pavement. 'Fancy a pint somewhere?'

We were at this pub – James and Son was the name – and as I leaned against the bar, Tony rambled on next to me about shit, trying to sympathise with me about things on the home-front.

'You know mate,' said the twattish gremlin, eying up the sexy black female bartender behind the bar. 'That's why I live alone Darren, caus I like me space, and I like to do the things in life that a man has to do, like smoke some weed every now and then, like throw a party every now and then, like have a cheeky wank every now and then over some page 3 model's face.'

'She's just giving me so much shit man,' I said, distress clearly discernible on my face, and glancing briefly at the various people about the pub talking away to one another. 'Like trying to control my every move man. Telling me not to smoke weed for fuck sake, that kind of shit.'

'Hey mate, that is bad mate. That is real bad. I mean every guy's gotta smoke some weed for fuck sake. That shit keeps you at bay man. It keeps you at mother fuckin' bay boy.'

'Yea, that's what I said, but man the bitch don't listen. It's just nag nag nag from the girl 24/7. I mean, even when we're fucking with the lights out the bitch still nags at me.'

'Fuck mate, if you ask me, your wife's got issues, she's got issues man, needs to see a counsellor, that's what she's gotta see, bitch needs therapy dude.'

'Yea, a pain man, a real pain.' I then looked up at the bar and took out a tenner from my wallet. 'Anyway, let's get some drinks, I'm thirsty. What you having?'

'I'll have what you're having mate,' said Tony – he then proceeded to eye up the black bird again.

I looked at the woman, and gestured for her to come over with a wave of the note between my fingers.

'Hey, sweetheart, 2 Newcastle Browns when you're ready, ay?'

The woman – a nice, sweet piece of creampie with some dam sexy lips and some dam sexy arse-cleavage as well revealed above her jeans – glanced at me and Tony a little oddly and headed to the back of the bar to get some glasses.

Tony was gawping at her, the horn prevalent in him from his drooling lips.

'Hey, darling,' he said, continuing to gawp at her, his tongue hovering about inside his mouth like Jabba the Hut's.

The woman looked up at him as she filled a glass and pulled a bland, vapid expression.

It was then that Tony, straightening himself out, pointed right at his own face and said slowly, 'Am I the one for you?', the words pronounced and a bit slurred like a conventional alcoholic's.

Instead of replying, the woman just looked all awkward like and a bit offended and ignored the gremlin lookalike of a man.

Meanwhile I, standing there waiting, nearly laughed out loud, a huge smirk on my face. What a fucking sight that was lol!

'The girl likes me, I can tell,' said Tony, nodding and completely sure of himself.

'She fucking loves you mate,' I said. 'She fucking loves you.'

After a few pints, me and Tony were proper merry, and as we sat at a table at the back of the pub, Tony recited to me some recent unearthly anecdote involving his fat cunt of a fuckbuddy: Katy.

'So, I'm fucking banging this Katy man, banging, banging, banging her I am. Banging her like a beast. And she's like telling me to go harder and shit, so I try to go harder, but you know, I've had a bit of smack, so I'm feeling a little fucking limp. But, you know, so what, I'm a little limp, shit happens. I can still fuck this bitch to a perfectly satisfactory standard.'

'So where you meet this Katy ay?' I enquired, glancing at the various punters about in the pub, and then at the sexy black bird at the bar; man, I wanted to fuck that fine-ass piece of creampie reggae-jeggae style. (I even envisaged myself toking a huge cone-like spliff as I fucked her in the back.)

',' replied Tony.

'Ah, Land of the bitches. I tell you though, there's a lot of fucking skanks on that site, you gotta be careful. Could fucking end up with something very fucking nasty.'

'Yea, tell me about it. I met Katy didn't I.'

'HAHAHAHA!!' I laughed.

We both giggled at the comment and swigged at our drinks like beer-barraged beasts.

'So does this Katy know about Chantelle then?' And I couldn't help but smirk when I thought about earlier when the latter was sucking on my cock. Man, some blow.

'Haha, does she fuck,' said Tony. 'Bitch don't even know I do smack. Although, I think she kind of suspects, not sure.'

'Fucking hell mate, you gotta be careful with that shit. Don't want to get addicted, do you mate.'

'No no mate, like I said, right, I'm not addicted. That's the beautiful thing. I shoot up and stuff, but I'm not addicted. How fucking great is that Darren, ay, how great is that!' Tony looked thoroughly ecstatic, like he'd been hit on the spot with the miracle-stick.

I just nodded and swigged, embracing the taste of the fine ale.

'Man, Katy's more addictive. The kinky fat bitch. Man, I'm glad I met her. I tell you, it was so fucking difficult to find a girl on Pof.'

'Yea?' I smiled humorously.

'Yea. There was this one girl, right, really fucking liked her as well. A bit nerdy looking like with glasses, but I liked her, right. And so I send her this message saying that she's got a really nice profile picture. And she says, "Thanks, why don't you put one up of yourself." So I do that right, Darren mate, I put a picture up of me. But then as soon as she she's it, right, SHE FUCKING DELETES ME!! I mean, how rude is that?!'

'Haha, that is funny mate,' I said, shaking my head in humour. 'Fucking unlucky mate.'

'Anyway Darren,' said Tony, after briefly ruminating, 'what you gonna do about this Victoria situation?'

'Oh, I don't know man. I think I'll just have to try and make amends with her. I'll finish this and then best try and sort something out, like apologise or some shit. I tell you Tony, it's a piece of piss apologising to her you know.'

'Piece of a piss ay?'

'Oh yea, she caught me having it off with her while she was asleep and dreaming. At first she was real freaked out like, but I just said sorry, and that was all it took for sweet forgiveness to take its toll.'

'Haha man. Sleep sex, now that is some bad-ass shit.'

'Haha, yea,' I said. 'Although shit's overrated a bit. Anyway, will have to do another apology.'

'Well, good luck, not that you're going to need it though.' Laughing, Tony then raised his glass up in the air, and we did another celebratory-like clash.

I'd had about 6 or 7 pints by the time I got back to the apartment, and I have to admit I was pretty fucking plastered. But I felt gooooooood, real good. I felt like there was no problem in life whatsoever, and any memory of an earlier domestic quarrel was faint and diluted.

Once through the front door, I strolled forwards rather drunkenly, yanking my shoes off in the process, and headed over to the living room.

'Oh Victoria, Victoria,' I said, like some villainous character in a straight-to-DVD horror flick. Fuck, I felt horny from the booze and really wanted to come on Victoria's tits.

But it was when I got into the room that I saw the missus sitting on the sofa, tears rolling down both her cheeks, watching something on the television. And as I perceived the mascara-infused tears roll down those high cheekbones of hers, I heard the sounds of Tony's skanky little skag-buddy, Chantelle, sucking cock on the TV; then I saw the DVD case of the homemade film that I, Tony, and Chantelle had made with the HD camcorder, with the words Dirty Bitch written on the front of it. However, rather than try and explain myself, for I knew what would be the fucking point, I just smiled and looked over at Victoria's teary face.

'You ... monster,' said Victoria, rolling her eyes up at me, tearful and weeping, and then wiping some watery drops away with the back of her hand.

'Monster,' I thought, somewhat outraged. A woman like Katy may certainly fit the description, but me? Former lone wolf of Norwich city Darren Speck, a monster??

'Hey, I don't know why you're crying V, t'was just a bit of fun, t'was that,' I said, placing my hand casually in my trouser pocket, a little bit shifty like. Then I nearly laughed when I registered the sounds of Tony on the TV complaining of not being able to 'keep it up' for much longer. I remembered him saying it as well; it was as he'd been banging Chantelle from behind with a semi, with me round the other side getting my more respectable erection sucked on by Chantelle's lithe, almost brittle lips.

'Haha, this is the best part,' I said, moving over into the room and taking a look at the screen. I pointed my finger at it and started giggling. Tony was all sweaty and still whinging and looking annoyed about his erectile issues. 'Haha V, look at Tony, cunt can't even keep it up. Lol!'

'Oh come on for fuck sake, you call that an erection,' came the voice of Chantelle.

'I'm tryin' for fuck sake girl, I'm tryin',' came Tony's frustrated retort.

'Haha, what a nob ed,' I said, chortling at the sight of Tony's televised figure, the man's gaunt, skinny body definitely more gremlin-like that human (one of his parents had obviously fucked the wrong specie).

I soon turned my gaze to Victoria, who was staring at me in tears, looking shocked and full of emotion.

'Oh come on,' I said. 'Why the tears girl? Ain't no nigga dead.'

Victoria just continued to sit there in silence and looked well away from me in disgust, like I was the pure form of hair-writhed scum that accumulates itself in a bath plug-hole.

'God, I haven't got time for all this melodramatic shit,' I said. Then, yawning, I moved over to the doorway and stretched my arms up in the air. 'Right, I'm going to fucking bed. You should come as well. Good to get some rest girl.'

As I walked up the stairs to bed, I laughed again at the sight of Tony's appalling sexual performance. 'Haha, "I'm tryin', I'm tryin'", lol.'


It's always annoying when some cheeky, filth-soaked dream ends at the best part, and I was in a seriously erotic one getting blown by Victoria and Chantelle, who were both kneeling down beside me, taking it in turns to guzzle my cock and balls, when consciousness prevailed and I woke the fuck up.

'Dam it!' I yelled, my eyes opening and discomfort instantly taking hold of them from the potent light that was glaring in from the drawn curtains. Then I smiled when I thought of Victoria. 'Oh Victoria,' I said; and looking to my side I suddenly saw that she wasn't there, only that fucking stupid crease in the pillow. 'Hmm,' I said, confused.

As I looked over at the wardrobe I suddenly noticed that all of Victoria's clothes were no longer there. And then it hit me that she'd left; it hit me with a certain drollness.

'Oh well, fuck her, I wish the bitch luck,' I said.

I quickly relaxed back in the bed and put my hands behind my head.

I was gazing up at the ceiling, feeling a bit strange and also angry, when I registered a load of knocks coming from the front door.

'Ah, the bitch has come running back,' I immediately thought, smirking conceitedly. But I suddenly realised that the knocks were far too hefty and clamorous to be produced by Victoria's elegant little womanly mits. 'Fucking postman or some prick,' I thought; and in rage, I heaved myself up out of bed, clad in just my boxer shorts, and headed out of the room and in the direction of the front door.

'Fucking god dam postman cuntface, I fucking hate those cunts,' I uttered, grinding my teeth together, the knocks growing louder, harder, and more incessant. 'I'm coming you cunt, stop that knocking cunt, you wankstain. I'm fucking coming you here me!'

As soon as I'd opened the door, a bland, dull look formed on my face when I saw who it was.

'Tony,' I said, 'yes ... Tony, at my front door, as you always are.' I then noticed that he was dressed in this green army coat, had a little black bobble-hat covering his goblin-like head, and had this large black sportsbag over his shoulder.

'Darren mate, good to see you in the morning buddy. Hey listen mate, I know this may sound weird and strange and shit, but like, right, my landlord's only effin kicked me the fuck out of my flat, says that I didn't pay last month's rent. And I'm like to him, "Hey mate, I paid you the rent, remember?" And he's like, "No you didn't cunt." And I'm like, "Yes I did, you callin' me a liar?" Then the prick goes and kicks me the fuck out, literally like, makes me pack my bag on the spot, and then kicks me out. I've even got his footprint on my arse mate. I then went over to Katy's right, to see if she'd let me stay, but the fat bitch won't answer her door. Think she's fucking some new bloke now, some guy who works at McDonalds.'

I'm standing there, listening to Tony in my foggy, early-morning mind, and I'm like: what the fuck is this cunt going on about?

'Tony,' I said, shaking my head in bewilderment, 'what the fuck do you want mate?' Then, glancing at the bag around his shoulder, I knew what the little man was getting at.

'Could I stay at your place for a couple of days mate? Just like for a couple of days, or a week, or maybe a couple, just till I get back on my feet.' He looked at me, his eyes wide like a beggar's, and for some reason licked his lips, like he was expecting me to serve him a nice, hearty fry-up or something.

But I just stared at the bobble-hat wearing fool in silence, and pulled a face similar to Jack Nicholson's in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest when he got lobotomised at the end.

'So what do you say, ay, Darren, my good old chum of a mate?'

'Are you taking the piss?' I'm thinking, my mind suddenly drifting off into a bland, gormless place, suddenly losing all sense of reality. Then, with the sound of dogs barking in the background, I snapped right back into reality. 'You got any skunk Tony?' I said.

'Hey mate, I've got like 20 grams of Blue Cheese in my bag.'

'Well then,' I said, and I moved swiftly to my side, 'welcome on in.'

'Oh mate Darren, fucking top, really top. I appreciate this, I really fucking do; you're some chum mate.'

'Yea, yea, yea, man,' I said, getting tired of listening to Tony's voice. 'Just come on inside. And don't call me chum, you hear. It sounds all gay and shit.'

Walking through into the kitchen, Tony following me with his stupid fucking bag that looked bigger than him, I hastily moved over to the kettle, needing a serious caffeine hit to cure that groggy fogginess that just wouldn't leave my gloom-ridden head.

'Right, you want a tea?' I said, watching Tony put his shit down on the floor and then giving me this stupid dopey look of gratitude.

'Tah mate,' came his reply. And in no time at all the geezer was pulling off that ridiculous bobble-hat of his, revealing his greasy, fuzzy, pubic-like hair, and making himself right at home.

I was busy filling up the kettle when I noticed the guy taking out a packet of pills and putting one of them in his crusty mouth.

'What's that shit you're taking?' I said. 'I want one of them. Give me one.'

'Bit of ritalin mate,' replied Tony, crunching the pill up with his blackened teeth and just swallowing.

'What, that amphetamine shit they give to kids?'

'Yea mate, helps the brain tick along nicely, and when you been doing a bit of smack mate like I've been doing, trust me, you need that shit.'

'Yea whatever,' I said, flipping the switch on the kettle and then holding out my hand.

Tony smiled, his appallingly rotten and grotesque teeth gleaming horrifically at me like some fucking pirate's, and took one out.

'Haha, course you can have one mate, course you can have one,' he said, before slapping one in my hand.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, I tossed that party-pill into my mouth and swallowed it straight. I waited about 10 seconds and then shook my head.

'I don't feel nothing,' I said, a bit pissed off. 'Nout, this is some useless shite Tony.'

'Hey, takes a while to work you know,' said Tony, sitting his sad little arse down on one of the chairs. Man he looked like an absolute fucking wretch and had this horrid, musky, trampy scent about him. Quite frankly, I was fucking embarrassed to have him in my place. But he had his uses didn't he; he had his mind altering drugs and that made him very useful indeed.

'Yea, yea,' I said, quickly taking out a couple of cups and putting a teabag inside each. 'I tell you man, this tea shit's more effective than that fucking shite. Fucking Ritalin, what a joke. Get some fucking phenyl or some shit, why don't you. Fuck.'

'So, anyway,' said Tony. 'Where's the missus of the house? The cock-tease.'

'The cock-tease Tony has left.'

'Noooo!' said Tony, 'she never!'

'Yep, the bitch left this morning, took all her clothes, packed a bag. She, uh, she found that film we made with Chantelle. Got real pissed about it.'

'Fuck mate, you should have stored that shit in a box or something. Put a padlock on it.' Tony proceeded to shake his head and pretended to be all sympathetic like and commiserating, the fucking little cunt. 'Man ... look, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you buddy.' Jesus, I thought the cunt was going to open his arms and offer me a hug, but luckily he didn't.

'Hey, I ain't pissed man, I'm fucking glad mate.'

'You glad?'

'Yea man, I got my fuckin' freedom back, ain't I. No more of that bitch nagging at me 24/7.'

'Hey yea, man, I didn't think about that. You are lucky after all, aren't cha mate. You are a lucky mother fucker.'

'Yep, real lucky,' I said, the kettle clicking. 'Real lucky.'

It was about an hour later, and I found myself rather ignobly in the bathtub with Tony opposite me, his rancid, stinkin', fungalised feet just skimming the sides of my arms, those yellow toenails of his painted corruptly with crust.

'Man, I can't believe I'm in a fucking bathtub with you,' I said, shaking my head, really pissed off that I'd even agreed to let him use the bath, let alone share one with me! But caus of the ritalin working its way through my impressionable brain, somehow we ended up in there together.

'Hey mate, nothing wrong with sharing a bath with a mate is there,' said Tony, trying to justify the situation as he scrubbed at his back with a scrub-brush, his filthy skin peeling away like coarse paint.

'But ... it's weird, ain't it Tony,' I said, 'it's like ... two blokes in a bath for bleedin' sake.'

'Haha, two blokes in a bath, funny that, haha, funny!' said Tony.

At first frowning, a little annoyed and aggravated by this crusty fool opposite me, I quickly found myself starting to laugh at the absurdity of it.

'Haha, I guess it is pretty funny ain't it. Haha, fuck me, two blokes in a bath, lol!'

As Tony scrubbed away, I began looking about for the soap, wondering where it was in this low-life-engaged ship.

'Hey Tone, you got the soap?'

'No dude, I ain't got it,' replied the guy, now squeezing some of Victoria's rose-scented shampoo from a bottle onto his skin to wash it.

'Well where the fuck is it then??'

'It's somewhere in this tub ain't it.'

'Oh fucking hell. And why the fuck are you using Victoria's shampoo to wash your rancid fucking skin? That's for your hair you fucking buffoon.'

'Hey, I like the smell of it, ok. It'll give my skin a nice scent,' said Tony, all gay-like.

'Nice scent! You fuckin' poofter.' Exasperated, I began rooting about in the water for the soap, trying to keep my hands well away from that revolting specimen opposite me. 'Oh for fuck sake, this is ridiculous, remind me to never share a bathtub with you again.'
Soon though, to my brief, transient joy, I found the soap further down the tub, and began washing myself thoroughly. I also irritatingly felt Tony's foot nearly whack me in the crown jewels as he fidgeted about, them horrid toes flexing.

'Hey, watch the cock,' I said, quite seriously, nearly pointing at the bloke.

'Sorry mate, it's a small bathtub ain't it.' Then Tony began squeezing some of the shampoo onto his real grease-ridden hair, squeezing nearly the entirety of the bottle over his head. 'Hey, do us a favour Darren, give us a hand washing my hair will you?'

'Oh fuck off,' I said. 'Cheeky cunt.'

'Come on Darren mate. I have trouble lifting my arm up these days as I damaged some of my nerves through jabbing a needle in the wrong area. I'd really appreciate it Darren.'

I huffed, really fucking pissed off, and began clenching my jaw muscles in frustration.

'Right, I'll do it, but you better have some good skunk to smoke, and I mean some fine-ass mother fuckin' skunk.'

'Hey mate, the skunk's yours mate, the skunk's yours,' said Tony.

So, in no hurry, I moved towards Tony, and grimacing once began massaging my fingers through his grimy, reprehensible hair.

'Fucking hell man, when was the last time you washed your fucking hair, ay? Fucking appalling I tell ya.'

'Haha, yea, bit greasy ain't it,' said Tony, chortling a little. 'Yea, been a while since I last washed it. That's the trouble with me, you see, I let myself go a little recently, but just a little.'

'Man, and to think that only a couple of days ago I was sharing a tub with a beautiful, gorgeous Russian bird, and now this. Fucking unbelievable.'

'Hey, ain't nothing wrong with two blokes in bath, is there lol.'

I shook my head, and closed my eyes in utter despair. 'Fuck my life.'


'So I'm like with the chick, and she's got her large motorcycle with her, right,' said Tony, walking on into James and Son, me by his side, 'and she says to me, "Would you like to go for a ride Tony?" And I'm like, "What? On that thing love?" You know I'm a little nervous and stuff like, caus it's a big fuckin' mother fucker of a machine. But I say, "Ok, why not." So I get on the back of this fucking bike right, and she gets on the front, starts up the engine and shit, and then takes off down the road.'

I and Tony got to the bar, where Tony gestured for a thin, red-headed barmaid to come over and serve us.

'2 pints of Carlsberg Tracy when you're ready love,' he said.

Looking a little brassed off at the sight of Tony, the woman came over and frowned.

'How many times do I have to tell you Tony, my name's not Tracy.'

'Yea yea sweetheart, come on, chop chop as the Chinese say, 2 drinks.'

Shortly after that, while the barmaid reluctantly went to prepare the drinks, Tony got back to telling his story.

'Now, I'm like behind this girl right on her bike, my hands around her hips, and it's as she speeds off down the fuckin' road right that I suddenly start to feel quite turned on for some reason. I mean, I don't know what it was, I don't know if it was because I was like staring at her arse-cleavage nonstop, or whether it was like caus of the vibration or some shit, but I soon found myself getting the mother of all stiffies.'

'Haha, fuckin' hell mate,' I laughed, watching 'Tracy' fill up a glass, and staring at those splendid tits of hers which were secured by a nice, tight purple bra. 'Fuckin' stiffy, lol.'

'I know right,' continued Tony, 'so anyway, I'm trying to stop this fucking stiffy, but it's difficult like, caus then I start thinking all this rude shit in my head, like doing this girl from behind and stuff, spankin' that arse of hers. And I'm like, "Stop Tony, stop it mate! You'll make it worse for yourself man!" And then right, the girl starts noticing that something's digging into her back, and she's like, "Have you got something in your pocket Tony?"

'Haha,' I laughed, amused, Tracy placing the first pint down in front of me.

'So I'm like, "Um ... um ... yea, it's my bong love, always keep it in my pocket. Sorry bout that love." Man, I don't know why the fuck I said I had a bong on me like, but that was the only thing that came to my mind. But then, right, get a load of this man. The bitch suddenly freaks out; she like, totally fuckin' freaks out.'

'Fuck mate, what do you mean she freaked out?'

'I mean like, she was like totally anti-fucking D-R-U-G-G-I-E and shit, and she literally like pulls the bike up to the side of the road and says really pissed off and shit, 'Your profile on Pof didn't say anything about you being into drugs. It didn't say that you do drugs on it!' Man, I'm like, "Hey love, it's only a bleedin' bong darling.' But the bitch ain't havin' none of my excuses. "Only a bong?? You druggie piece of shit, get the fuck off my bike!!!' And that's it, she just leaves me at the side of the road, she leaves me there man. I have to walk all the way home, 2 miles back. What a fuckin' bint Darren I tell you.'

'Man, most bitches on Pof are like that, they just freak out when it comes to drugs. You should always say that you don't do them on that site, always.'

'I know mate. Fuck, Pof gets to me sometimes.'

Soon Tracy situated Tony's pint down in front of him and then held the palm of her hand out.

'5.60,' she said.

'Hey Darren mate, couldn't pick up the bill here could you? Bit skint at the moment as the drugs I get don't come cheap.'

'Alright,' I said; and I handed Tracy the exact money in a load of coins. 'Cheers Tracy.'

The woman just nodded at me like I was a cunt, and headed off over to the till while I took my first sip.

'Man they're a bunch of cunts on that Pof. They got a load of cactus' shoved up their arses ain't they. Fuckin' bints.'

'Hey though, I wish my cactus was shoved up one of them girl's arses though!' laughed Tony, his eyes widening somewhat gleefully.

'Haha, same boy.'

'Anyway Darren,' said Tony, tapping me once on the shoulder, 'it's good to see that you're over that slag Victoria.'

'Oh yea mate, I'm over that bitch. I was over her the moment she walked out that front door. Fucking Russian ho; she can go and suck some other white boy's dick.'

'Haha, yea mine,' said Tony, grabbing hold of his cock and yanking at it.

'Hahaha, cheeky cunt.'

I took a long, hard swig of my drink and smiled in a moment of tranquillity.

But it was just then, at that very moment, that I registered a voice in the background behind me. It sounded like Victoria's jovial, happy-as-a-lamb voice; and glancing back over my shoulder I saw none other than the heart-stabbing bitch sitting at a table at the back of the pub, her arm around the back of some bloke next to her – a right ugly mother fucker.

'DA FUK?' I said, my smile fading, and a pointed bullet penetrating the wall of my tranquillity.

And let me tell you, that geezer was SOME UGLY SON-OF-A-BITCH. Bald in the middle of his head, blonde hair drooping incongruously down both sides of it; man, he looked like the hitchhiker from Texas Chainsaw Massacre for fuck sake. LIKE THE MOTHER FUCKIN' HITCHHIKER FROM TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE!!!!'

'What's that Darren mate?' said Tony, gormlessly as fucking usual, taking a swig of his Carlsberg.

'It's Victoria,' I said.

'Get out of here! Where?!' said Tony, peering his head speedily about the place like some curious chicken.

'She's over there, sitting with that ugly son-of-a-bitch.'

Tony moved his face past me and stared at where Victoria was.

'Hey, so she is, well I never; man she moved on quick didn't she lol.' Tony then started laughing like it was some major funny-ass shit, like some Broadway comedy or something.

'Shut the fuck up,' I said.

'Sorry mate, sorry,' said Tony; and he quickly snapped out of it and sipped awkwardly and quietly at his drink.

'Fuck, I can't believe that bitch,' I said. For some reason, I felt pretty dam hurt, and it got to me, it really did. 'Look at her, sitting with that ugly son-of-a-bitch. I mean Tony mate, ain't that geezer an ugly fucking cunt or what.'

'The bitch could do a lot better,' said Tony.

Then, grinding my teeth, I couldn't take it anymore, and felt as if I was cracking like a pan of popcorn.

'Man, fuck this shit, I'm gonna go over there,' I said, starting to move away from the bar and in the direction of Victoria.

'Hey, come on Darren mate. Leave it be ay, leave it be.'

'No I will not leave it be you fucking nob-jockey.'

Victoria, who'd been busy laughing away with the balding cunt, suddenly widened her mouth when she saw me approach the table.

'Alright Victoria,' I said, giving the bitch the evil eye, courtesy of Darren Speck.

'Darren,' she uttered, shocked, but in a controlled tone of voice.

The hitchhiker, looking up at me and then at Victoria next to him, began to look all confused.

'I see you moved on fast Victoria,' I said.

'Who's this chap Vic?' said the bloke, frowning at me.

Then, looking at the guy menacingly, I clenched my fist and dug my nails into my flesh.

'I,' I suddenly blurted out, 'am her husband mate. That's who I am.'

'Husband??' said the bloke, confused, and frowning like some senile old biddy.

'Yes, you cunt, her husband.' Man, I could feel the spit start to accumulate at the corners of my mouth, real frothy stuff.

'Look, we've split up,' said Victoria.

'Oh, that's good then,' said the bloke; and he nodded, instantly all cheered up, and took a sip of his tipple, which appeared to be a vodka and tonic.

But this just fucking infuriated me, and my eyes began widening in absolute outrage.

'Excuse me, did you just hear what I said cunt?? I'm her fucking husband.'

'Hey, buddy, I don't know about you, but I just heard the lady say that you'd split up. Hey, that's what I heard anyway.' He then took another sip of his drink, all casual like.

'Right you cunt, I ought to give you a fuckin' punchabout you cocksucking prick, you fucking ugly son-of-a-bitch. I mean honestly Victoria, you could have done better than this freak. Look at him, he looks like the hitchhiker out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre for fuck sake.'

I could tell that this last comment really got to the guy as, suddenly looking deeply offended and hostile, he abruptly stood up, the legs of his chair screeching on the floor.

'Now listen here buddy,' he said, pointing over at the pub door. 'You see that door over there, well I suggest you use it, or someone's going to get hurt.' He then gave me a right poofy raise of the eyebrows, and I felt my blood boil like the heroin in Tony's spoon.

'Yea, you ya prick, I'll murder you you fucking cunt!' And just then, I lost complete control and lunging forwards took a swing at the bloke; but the bastard moved out the way (must have studied karate or some shit), and I found myself smashing forwards against the table, the drinks on it splattering against my face like gushing blood, and Victoria looking at me in shock, her hands over her mouth. 'Fucking ... cunt,' I uttered, in a dazed, fuddled slur.

Hastily, I pulled myself back up and was about to try for a second punch when Tony came to my 'rescue' and pulled me away, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and chest.

'Leave it mate! Just leave it!' he said, uncannily like Billy Mitchell from EastEnders. 'He ain't worth it!'

Fuck, what a soap opera it all was. I could even hear a small shriek come from Victoria, her hands up against her face; but the sound actually nearly turned me on, despite my antagonism.

Very shortly later Tracy from the bar yelled out from behind it. 'Oy, get that pyscho out of here! Now!'

'We're ... We're going,' said Tony, out of breath, and putting his hand out in assurance. 'Don't worry Tracy darling, we're leaving.'

'My name's not Tracy!'

As the good Samaritan of a pal pulled me towards the door, I had the chance to yell back towards the heart-stabbing bitch and her new buffoon of a lover, 'You can have the bitch mate! You can have her you cunt! Enjoy the fuckin' herpes ay! Enjoy the fuckin' herpes!'

Once outside, I immediately released myself from Tony's grasp and clenched my fists hard.

'Fucking bitch!' I yelled towards the pub's door, 'fucking whore of a woman! Should be suckin' on my willy not his!'

'Come on Darren mate, relax man, alright, relax mate. That bitch, right, let me tell you, I'd never trust a bitch like that, never.'

'Can't believe it Tony man. I mean did you see that cunt she was with, did you seem him. Ugly mother fucker.'

'Hey, he ain't got nothing on you Darren, nothing on you mate. You is reem and he ain't.'

I was now really feeling the blood sizzle in my veins and decided to take a violent kick at a nearby bin to make myself feel better, its plastic rattling my bones as my shoe dug into it.

'You feeling better now?' said Tony, his hands out in front. 'You feeling better ay?'

I took a deep breath and exhaled out of my nostrils. 'Not yet,' I said. Then I took another shot at the bin, kicking it even harder. 'Now I am.'

'Hey, sometimes a nigga gotta kicka bin,' said Tony. 'Come on man, let's just go back to yours, I can get that Chantelle round, we'll have a blast, and you can take your frustrations out on her. Hey, and I'm sure you got a lot of frustrations to take out.'

'Hmm,' I said, suddenly feeling a lot better at the thought of another woman. 'Yes, Chantelle, I could do with some of that right now. She's like some anorexic supermodel ... on smack ... and I dig that.'

'Exactly mate. And so could I after all that. Man, Chantelle is required.'

'Yes,' I said, nodding enthusiastically like I'd suddenly been hit with the miracle-stick. 'Yes Tony, yes.'

'We'll get that bitch round, have a fuckin' blast mate.'

Now the enthusiasm was practically hysteria wrecking beautiful, inhibited havoc in my body. 'Yea man! I like it Tony, sounds mother fuckin' great!'

Then Tony got all excited too. 'Wo yea boooooy!' he said, doing some hip-hop dance and some snazzy thing with his fingers.

And soon we shared a joyous high-five together, and smiled like a couple of homegrown bitches in the hood at the prospect of some dirty, immoral, unbounded action with that skag-head Chantelle.

A couple of hours later, me, Tony, and Chantelle were in my bedroom, me finishing a roll of pungent skunk in the corner of the room and Chantelle and Tony both sitting on the edge of the bed, the two looking all fucked up on smack (which they'd taken earlier).

I was exhaling a beautiful misty cloud when Tony took out a small glass pipe from his pocket, some flaky crystal-like objects situated inside it, and looked at it all excitedly.

'What's that Tony?' I said, my eyes red and watery from my ganja-high, and sparks of electricity going off in my mind.

'This mate Darren,' replied Tony, nodding conceitedly, 'this is a crack-pipe.'

'Mmm, a crack-pipe, nice,' I said, finishing the last of my skunk and getting it all in my lungs. Man, I tell you, skunk is some proper intoxicating shit and I felt my head spin like a bitch.

'Oh yea boy,' said Tony. And with his eyes gleaming in lurid excitement he soon put a lighter to the front of the pipe and lit it, whirling spirals of smoke beginning to seep out from the top. Then he took a hit through his lips, and his face quickly tensed up, his head starting to quiver spasmodically.

'Here ... Darren mate, have yourself a fucking hit of this shit bro,' he said, slowly extending the pipe out towards me, his eyes wide from a searing euphoria.

I looked at the somewhat garish object and nodded eagerly.

'Mmm, a bit of crack's what I need right now,' I said; and I pressed the butt of my roll of skunk out on the carpet, blackening a small circle of it, and began moving over to the bed to get a hit.

Then, taking the pipe, I held it up to my mouth and began sucking in some of the smoke, letting it move about in my mouth for a bit like loose white ribbons in the wind and sucking it all in. Then very shortly I felt an immense rush of blood hit my head and my heart began to pound like a whacked gold gong in my chest.

'Fuuuuuuuucking hell mate,' I said, feeling giddy all over, my mind experiencing a thunderous mental orgasm. 'That is some fucking crack buddy.' I almost wanted to plant a huge kiss on Tony's sweaty-rash-like face.

'Yea mate, the finest rock on the market.'

'Fucking heellllll,' I said, running my hands through my hair, massaging my tingling scalp. 'I feel like I'm taking off.'

'Hey, I want some,' said Chantelle, looking all envious at the pipe which was now back in Tony's hand, and then attempting, but ultimately failing, to snatch it.

Tony shoved the palm of his free hand in Chantelle's face and pushed her away.

'You can wait girl,' he said. 'You've already had enough smack from me. This is some special shit that you gotta wait for girl.'

And it was then that, all speedy like, Tony put the pipe on the floor and began unfastening his belt from his grimy, cum-stained trousers and starting to yank them forcefully down his legs.

'I tell you, this crack makes me horny as a mother fucker,' he said. 'Wo yea, boy, HORNY AS A MOTHER FUCKER!'

Copying Tony, I also began unfastening my belt, and nodded at how I felt the same, completely and overwhelmingly conquered with corrupt lecherous desire.

'Yea, it does dunt it. Man I feel fucking horny too; I feel like my cock's gonna shoot out in the air like a missile.'

Soon Tony's trousers were off and he began pointing at Chantelle, who was sitting all bored and doped out on the bed.

'Come on, get your clothes off girl,' said Tony, tossing his trousers and skid-mark covered boxers into the corner of the room. Man he was surprisingly hard for once, although still basically just a lively semi really (haha, a semi, mega lolz!).

Languidly, Chantelle began taking off her jeans to reveal her bony, skeletal-like legs, bruises, scars, and wormy veins cluttered all over them in a whim of heroin-ravaged madness. 'Oh, you're such a cunt Tony,' she said.

But Mr. Tone didn't like her 'tone' of voice, and with his hand he shoved her violently back onto the mattress.

'Hey! You wash your mouth out with soap girl!' he said, peering at her with his stoned eyes like some menacing seagull to some lonesome pigeon tryin' to steal its crumbs. 'Callin' me a cunt, you watch ya mouth girl!'

'Yea, whatever,' said Chantelle.

Once the woman had got her jeans, knickers, and top off, she proceeded to remove her bra from her chest and soon her small egg shaped tits – the nipples like pieces of purple dolly mixture – were revealed.

Tony, leaving his stained black t-shirt on, then began looking all lecherously at the skag-head of a woman. 'Right girl, get your arse up in the air, I wanna take you like a cowboy.'

Chantelle just huffed, as if extremely bored with Tony's 'request', and with slow movements proceeded to get on all fours on the mattress, her nude, tense-looking arse sticking up in the air, shaking a bit as if to egg Tony on.

The very sight of that skanky, bony arse added to the flourishing heat in my body, and after chucking my t-shirt onto the floor I watched as Tony attempted to get his cock harder and stiffer, but it was still just so flaccid and limp, like a deflated balloon, and looked all sweaty, raw, and, to be quite frank, fucking useless.

'You ready yet,' said Chantelle, impatiently, not bothering to look back.

'In a minute girl,' said Tony. He carried on yanking and yanking at his cock, trying to get it harder and sturdier, all focused like, his forehead clammy with sweat, and then said, 'Right, this will have to do. Yea, will have to. It's a decent enough boner ... I think.'

'Come on already,' moaned Chantelle.
'Yea, yea girl, shut your cake-hole bitch. I'm ready.'

I almost frowned by the bed as I watched Tony begin to insert his limpish semi of a shlong into Chantelle's two thin, dirty looking flanks of flesh, the scarce amount of hair on them fluffy like cotton wool.

'What, you ain't gonna use a condom mate?' I said, a bit surprised.

'No no mate, no need,' said Tony. 'Chantelle's on the pill, ain't cha Chantelle.'

'What?' said Chantelle, so very fucking bored. 'Yea, whatever, I'm on the pill. Sure.'

'Yea, but ...' and I was about to mention STDs and shit when I decided to leave it and just let Tony get what syphilitic treat was coming to him.

'Fuckin' hell, you ain't very wet, are you Chantelle girl,' fretted Tony, unable to wriggle his cock through Chantelle's snatch hole. (He was having to hold his thing with his hand as he attempted to glide it back and forth into the dry flanks of flesh.)

'Look, just use some fuckin' spit and hurry up, ay, I want my hit already.'

Hawking out a huge glob of his rancid, mucous-imbibed spit out onto his hand, Tony then began rubbing it all over his semi like sun-cream before taking another shot at penetration.

'Ah, that's the ticket, wo, yea man, I feel like a stud,' he said, now successfully managing to slide his lubricated meat in and out of Chantelle, thoroughly pleased and even able to take his hand away from his cock, staring at the woman's bony little arse as he humped away like some randy gibbon in a jungle.

Meanwhile I, getting rather bored and feeling as if I wasn't making the most out of my coke buzz, went around the other side of the bed, got on it, and kneeled down in front of Chantelle.

'Here, give us a blow ay Chantelle?' I said.

'Yea Chantelle, give Darren a blow, go on, he deserves it. He needs it,' said Tony, randy gibbon mode on full blast.

Looking exasperated, Chantelle rolled her eyes and then, lowering her face down towards my crotch, began sucking my cock which felt a little limp from the freebase shit, but still harder than Tony's, that's for sure.

'Oh yea girl,' I said, massaging my fingers through her dirty hair and starting to thrust my legs and lower body back and forth, really starting to fuck the woman's humid mouth. But then, not entirely realising it, I accidentally went too hard against her teeth and she hissed at me.

'Hey, watch it you cocksucker!' she said, yanking her head back and staring at me menacingly. Man, she looked evil, like something out of The Exorcist or some shit, real possessed like.

'Look who's talking Chantelle,' I said, smirking.

'Haha, good one Darren, good one,' laughed Tony.

Now Chantelle looked real pissed and scrunched her cheeks up.

'Fuck you prick!'

'Yea, whatever. Come on, get back to blowing me if you want your crack hit girl.'

She must have wanted that crack bad, because she quickly, although rather reluctantly, got back to sucking me off, enveloping her lips around my cock like a snake devouring a rodent.

Around the other side, Tony was now humping Chantelle as hard as he could, and I could tell he was on the verge of coming by his constant insane grunts. The guy was a real animal I tell you, definitely like some randy monkey, and it was most bizarre to witness.

'Wo yea, oh yea, wo, yee ha, wo this is good girl, so good!' he said, humping away, his whole body shaking like a shop's till in an earthquake-stricken city.

Even Chantelle glanced back at the gibbon over her shoulder, humping her like some wild beast.

'Is that really as hard as you can get? There are rapists on estragon who can get harder than that.'

'Shut up Chantelle,' said Tony, ignoring her, and looking thoroughly absorbed in a world of gibbonistic euphoria.

'You know, you're probably the only bloke I know who's fucked me with a semi.'

At that comment I nearly laughed out loud, quickly placing my hand on the back of Chantelle's head and trying to concentrate.

'Come on Chantelle, finish me off will you, you suck good girl.'

Chantelle proceeded to do so – more for something to do than out of sheer obligation – and I closed my eyes, that tongue swirling so smoothly around my bellend.

'Mmm, mmm,' I thought, 'the girl does suck good, I give it to her. Great fucking oral skills. She must be used to this sort of shit.'

Tony was now moaning quite a bit and was about to come, his body in a frenzy of sweat and vigour.


And then the geezer came, as violently and as simian-like as he could, letting his rancid, watery jizzom ejaculate into Chantelle's atrociously dry cunt.

'YEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAA!' he continued, like a pistol shooting cowboy, before his moans died down to just breathless groans and pants.

'You finished then?' I heard Chantelle mumble out to the bloke still attached to her arse, surprisingly coherently, my own cock still very much in that mouth of hers.

'Wo, I came good girl,' said Tony. 'Man, I sure do need some more crack after that shit.'

He nodded a couple of times and then, getting off Chantelle's arse, hopped off the bed and picked up his crack-pipe which he straight away began lighting.

'Come on, hurry up,' mumbled Chantelle, rolling her eyes up at me, the whites of them looking bruised in their corners; I could tell she was dying to get that hit now; she needed that hit.

So, deciding to be Mr nice-guy, I grunted a little and then came in a rather flat, bland orgasm. 'I just did,' I said.

Chantelle instantly opened her mouth and as she released my cock I could see the rather pathetic semen inside, lying below her partially yellow tongue like an opalescent puddle in the corner of an empty swimming pool – mostly watery liquid with a smidgen of white stuff in the centre of it.

Then the woman looked at me once, a look of bitterness and contempt strong and conquering, and spit the cum out violently onto the sheets like a piece of gum.

'That's what I think of you,' she said.

I wanted to be all annoyed like, as I'd realised she'd just spit my unborn kids out onto the sheets, but I didn't. I just pushed her face away with my hand, before leaning back on the bed, closing my eyes, and running my hands down my flushed, clammy face.

'Haha, fuck me,' I thought.


Another fucking morning, and this one I awoke feeling more shit than I think I've ever felt. Not sure if it was caus of the crack, or the skunk, or the booze mixed with all that shit. But either way, I was in a bad mood, and as I heaved myself up out of bed, entirely naked, I looked about the room, the smell of skunk and smoke strong and potent, and saw some beer bottles about the place. I could also see my dry cum stains all over the sheets, and they reeked of Chantelle's rather fishy fanny.

'Dam, this place is funky,' I said, shaking my head, and immediately wanting to smoke a roll of skunk, but wisely kicking that desire away. Instead I walked over to the door to see where that prick of a pal of mine, Tony, was. That cunt.

It was in the living room where I saw the drugged up geezer lying prone on the floor in a sleeping bag, with Chantelle appearing passed out on the sofa, both in their clothes. Man, I must have kicked them both out of my bedroom after the 'orgie' (or whatever the fuck that was) last night, and I was fucking glad I did. (Didn't want a couple of smack-eds disturbing my forty winks. Fuck that shit.)

'Oy!' I said, kicking at Tony in his bag with my foot. 'Come on, wake up you douchebag. This place is a fucking mess, and you've got to clear up mother fucker.'

Tony gibbered for a bit, strings of drool seeping from his lips, but quickly awoke in a daze.

'Hey Darren,' he said, 'morning mate. Looking not too shabby I see.'

'Yea, yea, yea, morning and all that shite. Come on, wake the fuck up, this place is a mess. Victoria never used to leave this place like this. I tell you, you're a fucking disgrace you are.'

Rolling himself up, Tony then reached about on the floor for a half-smoked joint, quickly placing it in his mouth and pulling out a lighter from his pocket.

I glanced at Chantelle asleep on the sofa.

'And what's that bitch still doing here?'

'Don't worry Darren mate, I'll take care of all this, you just go and have a cup of tea or something, make me one while you're at it,' said Tony, taking a big old puff of the skunk and moving languidly over to the sleeping skag-head on the sofa. 'Man, I could do with taking a shit in a bit.'

'Ah fuck the tea,' I said, 'give me a toke of that beaut in your mouth.'

I walked over to the geezer, and he quickly passed me the joint. Then I sat down on the floor over to the right of the room, and upon taking the first toke I almost wanted to vomit; but I didn't, I just went with the nausea like a hangover-pro.

'Oy, Chantelle girl,' said Tony, slapping the woman across the face. 'Wake up now, you've out stayed your welcome love. Get your skinny lil arse out of here girl.'

I couldn't help but shake my head at the sight. 'Hey, come on now Tony, there's no need to slap her, is there.' Man, even I had some fucking moral standards.

After receiving another slap, Chantelle abruptly awoke and shoved Tony back hard. 'Oy! Don't slap me mother fucker!' she said; and very shortly she started slapping at him, real girlish like, but violently enthusiastic nevertheless.

Tony then proceeded to do the same, and soon the pair of them were engaged in some kind of amateurish cat fight.

'Bitch!' said Tony.

Suddenly, out of the blue, he took a huge backhand to the side of Chantelle's face, and the woman's split lip instantly began to bleed.

'Fuckin' arsehole cunting fuck!' she roared, putting her forefinger to her lip and observing the thick scarlet red substance that was oozing slowly out of her. 'You made me bleed you cunt!' Fuck, I have to admit I'd come to observe a real vicious streak to Chantelle's temperament, and it was quite disturbing to witness it: like some demonic spirit possessing her from the inside, shining bright neon red through her eyes.

'Hey, sometimes a nigga gotta make a bitch bleed,' laughed Tony, glancing back at me.

I wanted to laugh, just for the sheer sake of it like, but I felt too stoned to do so, and I just let my eye-lids droop down my face like the front of a motorcycle helmet.

'What you talkin' like that for?' said Chantelle. 'You ain't black ... white boy.'

'I'm being hip Chantelle, you know what I'm sayin', hip girl. Like mother fuckin' Eminem.'

'Yea, well you sound like a right poof!' retorted Chantelle.

Tony then began grabbing her by the arm and yanked her up off the sofa with his hand. 'Right, come on girl, get your arse up and move your shit.'

'Get your fuckin' hands off me you ugly cunt ... you fucking gremlin lookalike prick!' yelled Chantelle.

Taking his hands off the woman, Tony momentarily appeared to ponder reflectively.

'Now why the fuck does everyone say that I look like a god dam gremlin? I don't know what people are on about. I mean I think I look pretty dam good. What do you think Darren mate?'

I just shrugged my shoulders and toked.

'Anyway, come on Chantelle, get your arse up girl.'

'Hey, come on Tony,' I said, gazing at the bloke and Chantelle. 'Be easy on the girl, ay. I'll at least make her a cup of tea or something.'

'Fuck your cup of tea!' yelled Chantelle, looking all spitefully at me like a venomous viper, and pushing Tony away.

Again, I just sat there, not responding, just stoned out of my mother fucking eyeballs on the Blue Cheese.

'Yea, you, you're a cunt, that's what you are! A cunt!' said Chantelle. She even ground her teeth as she put heavy emphasis on the final obscenity. 'I don't want your fucking tea.' Hey, why so cold girl?

'Well, your call girl,' I said.

'Don't worry, I'm fuckin' leaving this shithole!'

'You know, that hurts my feelings you saying that about my place. I don't know what you mean, it's a nice place; it's my pad girl.'

Getting up off the sofa, Chantelle spat in Tony's face and after that towards me, but she missed me unlike Tony who got it right in his mother fuckin' eyes. Then, in a right old bitchy strop, she walked over to a hypodermic needle that I hadn't noticed lying on the carpet near the sportsbag.

'Hey, what do you think you're doing? That's my syringe girl, not yours bitch!' said Tony, as Chantelle picked it up. Then she reached for a half-full packet of heroin by it and snatched it.

'And that's my fuckin' Henry bitch!'

The guy was about to take a Rocky-Balboa-like swing at the woman when I abruptly raised my hand out in his direction.

'Hey Tony mate, come on, just leave it man, let her have it, we got our money's worth last night, didn't we.'

Deeply pissed off in a really emotional kind of way, Tony let his face relax and began nodding.

'Alright Chantelle, you can keep that shit. But you can pay up next time bitch.'

'Fuck off cunt, I'll pay for what I want you ugly freak,' came Chantelle's reply.

And then, grabbing her jacket from the sofa, she stuck her middle finger right up in Tony's face before storming off over to the front door.

'Pair of wankers!' she uttered, opening the door and slamming it behind her.

'Fucking bitch,' said Tony.

He shook his head and looked at me.

'Here mate,' I said, smiling and taking the joint out of my mouth, 'have a toke, get the anger out your system buddy.'

Tony nodded and went and took the joint from my hand. 'Cheers buddy. A toke is always needed after that shit.'

'I think I'm gonna roll myself a fresh one.'

Shortly after that, I got up off the floor and looked about the place.

'Where do you keep this divine shit Tony?'

'Check the bag,' said Tony, glancing at his big black sportsbag, and holding the joint tightly between his forefinger and thumb as the smoke swept through into his mouth.

It was in there all right, as when I unzipped the bag I immediately noticed, with a large frown appearing on my forehead, a shit load of weed and other gear. There was packets and packets of the skunk, which I was surprised I hadn't smelt before; about 2 months' supply of heroin; rocks and rocks of crack cocaine; a dozen glass pipes; and plenty of packets of prescription pills – codeine, ritalin etc.; there was also shit like blowtorch-like lighters inside and stuff.

'Fucking hell mate,' I said, glancing over at Tony. 'You know if the old bill come round here, you and me are both fucked, showers, soap dropping, you name it.'

'Haha, don't worry mate. Those cunts don't know shit.' The gremlin proceeded to laugh a little and finished the rest of the skunk.

A couple of minutes went by as I prepared myself a fresh joint on the sofa, and then Tony, sitting there on the floor, began nodding at some brilliant, Tangotastic idea he had.

'You know mate, we need some entertainment around here,' he said.

'Yea? Like what?' I said, licking the joint together, that skunk so sweet and tangible to my senses.

'Like ... a fucking stereo, to sing along to some tunes, that's what.'

'Sing along to some tunes? Are you fuckin' off your rocks man?'

Tony just frowned with a smirk.

'Haha, suppose you are, ain't cha. But what's with the gay singalong shit?'

'I'm thinking,' said Tony, flinging himself down on the sofa next to me, smoking the last of that mother fucker of a joint to the very bone, 'that me and you ...' and he took a hearty toke, coughing slightly ... 'can have us a nice little party tonight. Can get some mates of mine round. We can have ourselves a right blast.'

'A fucking party?' I said, bewildered. 'With some singing?'

'Hey, ain't no singalong unless you brought the weed along,' said Tony. 'And I've brought the fuckin' weed along let me tell you Darren mate. Boy av I brought the weed along.'

At that very moment I started laughing hysterically, Tony also starting to laugh like a bitch, and I lively stood up and yanked at my cock.

'And this long dick nigga ain't for the long talk.'


So that was it. We went to Argos, picked up a large stereo – speakers part of the package – plus a pop compilation CD (Tony's idea, not mine lol), and after getting it through the front door like the Chuckle Brothers – to me, to you lol – we set that beast of a machine up in the middle of the living room, just by the TV.

'Oh yea, what a fuckin' stereo boy!' said Tony, as he finally put the plug into a socket in the wall to test it. 'Radio, radio, are ya workin' buddy, are ya workin',' said Tony.

Then, as he pissed about with some buttons, an immediate blast of bass-heavy noise shot out of the machine through the room in quivering waves.

'Fucking hell you twat!' I said, standing near him and covering my ears. 'Mate, I think it fucking works.'

After that, Tony began singing the lyrics to the song that was playing on the radio: Andy's William's – You're too good to be true.

'You're too good to be true, mmm yeaaaaa, can't take me eyes off ya girrllll!' he sang, his voice so very painful on the ears (mother fucker needed some serious singing lessons I tell ya).

'Yea, yea, that's enough of that shit,' I said, switching off the radio and then flinging myself down on the sofa. 'So, what now?'

By then Tony had taken out his shite Samsung smartphone and was rooting through some contact of his, some most probable arsehole.

'Now,' he said, 'I shall get some of me chums round; we'll have a good time we will, a good mo-fo time boy.'

'What chums?' I enquired.

'Just some pals, mate.'

'You know,' and I was starting to get really fucking pissed with Tony's shit, 'this is my mother fuckin' pad Tony, and I have a right to know which cuntface mates of yours you are inviting round.'

'Alright, keep your hair on mate, keep your hair on. They're just some pals I know. Some geezer called Badoose, and some other guy I know, a young lad called Kenny.'

'Badoose. Hmm. Hey that's a cool mother fuckin' name.'

'Haha, yea mate,' said Tony, his phone now up to his ear.

'Where he get that name?'

'Don't know, he's half Jamaican or some shit.'

Right then someone picked up their phone from the other line, and I listened to Tony sound all elated like.

Hey, Badoose mate!' said Tony, all joyful, like he was going to cream his pants on the spot. 'What's up buddy? You cool mate, you hanging well?'

Fuck, Tony was a twat to listen to, and I shook my head when I thought of how much of a fucking idiot I'd been to even let that fucking gremlin-lookalike freak stay at mine. A fucking idiot I was.

'Haha mate, that's good to hear. Hey listen mate, me and a pal of mine, Darren, well we're having a little party, and you're fuckin' invited. You should come along my homie.'

Bored with Tony's irritating voice, I decided to light a joint while I sat there; and I didn't hesitate to take a nice big juicy pre-roller from my pocket, lighting it instantly and thoroughly, the bitch taking some lighting.

'Yea mate, sure mate, got that shit, you know me, always got that shit on me.'

I puffed a few spirited tokes and soon felt that Blue Cheese hit my head like my brain was wearing a pair of 3D glasses. Wo, what a feeling!

'Hey listen, I'll text you the fucking address mate. We'll have a good time I guarantee. Hey, and if you wanna bring some bird along mate, well I ain't stopping you buddy ... alright mate, see you in a bit yea. Safe bruv.'

Tony then terminated the call and glanced at me; his eyes bulged when he saw the size of the beaut in my mouth.

'Woahh mate! That's some big juicy joint you tokin' there mate!' he said, as I sucked in smoke after smoke of dazzling, pungent skunk. 'Haha, guess if a nigga gotta toke, hey, a nigga gotta toke. Well anyway, Badoose will be round soon, and I'll give Kenny a text soon.'
'You know,' I said, drawing in a long breath, and somewhat fatigued with hearing Tony ramble on all the time, his mouth flapping incessantly like some ventriloquist's doll. 'I don't know if I want to do this stupid party shit. It's just so fucking gay mate. I think I'll just toke and maybe have a drink of something.' Then, reaching in my pocket, I took out a few 20 pound notes and chucked them at Tony like I was chucking some gold dust at him. 'Why don't you go and get some fucking booze or something. Some whiskey, or vodka and shit. Whatever mate, just some good, hard tipple.'

'Hey buddy, will get some good tipple,' said Tony. And, eagerly, he rummaged about on the floor and picked that gold dust up. 'Will head off now. I can text Kenny along the way.'

'Yea Tony, chop chop, run along to the shops ay.' I let a beastly funnel of skunk smoke unravel towards the guy and felt my eyes water.

'Hey mate, will return with the goods.'

It was as the irritating fuckface scurried off out the apartment that I gazed at the stereo and very nearly wanted to kick it violently with my foot. But I gained some self-control, and toked that beast of a joint that was sticking out the corner of my mouth like a red hot thermometer.

A little while later.

'Yea, she drives me crazy mmm mm, yea yea, oh she drive me crazy, and I can't help me self, oh no I cannot girl, mmm mm!' sang Tony as the tune – one of the many joyful, cheesy 80s tracks on the pop compilation CD – blasted loudly out of the speakers. Yes, the guffawing, vocally atrocious dickhead that was Tony had got the booze - 4 bottles of vodka and a carton of blue coloured fruitjuice to go with it – and was getting into some kind of pre-jam before his good old pals arrived.

Meanwhile, I just sat on the sofa, stoned with red, watery eyes, and sipped at a glass of some of that vodka and fruitjuice shit. I tell you, vodka certainly does the trick when you want to just sit and get totally shitfaced.

'She drives me, wo yea does that girl drive me crazy, oh yea, she does dunt she, she gets my balls going,' continued Tony. And I nearly wanted to smash the fucking shit out of his chimp-like skull; I even envisioned doing it, him lying supine like a bitch on the floor, begging for mercy as I repeatedly stamped on him, my foot crunching his skull to a bloody pulp of brains and bone; it was like that scene in Irreversible with the fire-extinguisher; and I fucking smiled as I imagined it, sipping leisurely at my vodka.

At that moment the doorbell rang, and Tony, all excited like some jubilant 5 year old, looked over at the front door.

'Oh hell yea! That must be Badoose,' he said, before sauntering off to let whoever the fuck it was in.

'Ah, big bad Badoose, how the fuck are you my good pal? It's good to see you buddy,' I heard Tony say, my eyes not bothering to look up.

Now I thought it would be a good time to light another pre-roller, a bigger one than before, and as I pulled one out from my pocket my eyes followed Tony and his mate coming into the room.

'Hey Badoose, this is my pal Tony. He's been very generous like, and has let me crash at his place for a bit.'

I looked over at the guy. Black, about 6ft 3, and wearing a black leather jacket and black trousers, the guy looked heavily built – almost like he juiced or something – had dreadlocks for hair, and also had a set of quite foreboding gold teeth which filled his mouth like liquid metal. I really should have felt a bit intimated by the sight of his hefty frame, but I was too god dam stoned out of my eyeballs and mildly pissed on vodka to do so.

Badoose brushed his big black hand through the air.

'Yea, bollocks to all that,' he said, eyeing up my apartment a bit and then looking at the weed of a bloke that was Tony. 'So Tony, where's the crack ay? You said there was crack at this party, and that's why I came.'

'Haha,' laughed Tony, 'yea, there's some crack about the place, don't worry.'

'Boy, shut the fuck up!' retorted Badoose. 'And give me some crack. I only came for the crack. The crack is what I want.'

Tony now looked really scared like, and just nodded his head compliantly.

'I'll, uh, I'll go and get some from my bag.'

'Yea you do that.'

While the shifty little gibbonous man moved over to his sportsbag, which was where it always was at the side of the room, I took a hard toke and heard the stereo move onto a new tune; I believe it was Easy Lover by Phil Collins.

'There you go,' said Tony, handing Badoose a bit of rock. 'You know, caus it's a freebie, it's only like ... one rock.' At that moment Tony really looked like he was going to shit himself from the sight of the ominous black figure which practically cast a shadow upon his small statured frame; and I pictured all that shit spraying out his backside like an eruption of boiling hot tar.

'Yea shut the fuck up and just give me that shit!' said Badoose, snatching the rock out of Tony's hand. 'And what about the pipe bitch?'

Tony nodded nervously and slowly began turning around to head off back over to the sportsbag. 'The pipe ... yes ... I'll just go and get it ...'

'And what is that gay-ass mother fucking shit that's playing?'

'That's Phil Collins,' said Tony, smiling all gay like. 'It's a good tune.'

'Good tune my black ass! Why don't you put on some good shit or something. Like a bit of Prodigy or some shit.'

'I don't think we got the Prodigy, but Firestarter's a good tune though ain't it.'

'Man just get me my mother fuckin' crack-pipe, and shut the fuck up, bitch,' said Badoose. Fucking hell the guy was well built, and those gold teeth of his resembled Jaws' from those bond movies.

Tony did just that, quickly handing the geezer a glass crack-pipe, and then Badoose, holding it in his hand with the rock, flung his leather jacket off to reveal his bulging chest beneath a black t-shirt; he also had this steel necklace-chain that flopped down from his neck.

Soon, as I was sitting peacefully smoking my joint and sipping at my drink, Badoose flung himself down next to me, and I felt the entire piece of furniture rattle in the process.

'Let's get this bitch rolling,' the guy said, staring at the pipe and preparing it with the rock.

Meanwhile Tony just stood in the middle of the room looking like a giant dick with a rubber Johnny draped over him. But then the doorbell rang and he instantly went all happy and joyful in the face.

'Hey, that'll be Kenny!' he said, before jogging over to the front door, while I sat there, starting to feel a little uncomfortable by the presence of the large mother fucker next to me, watching him as he lit the pipe and sucked in the silvery smoke.

He inhaled and then, looking at me like I was a cunt, breathed out some smoke right in my face; I just had to close my eyes.

'Kenny mate my man. It is good to see you bro. Come on, come inside mate, the party's just getting started.'

With my joint now half-smoked, I looked over at Kenny who came into the room, this weedy little guy with glasses and dyed red hair and clad in a batman-logoed hoody with a little cap on his head. A right gay wad. But it was when I squinted my eyes a little that I suddenly realised that this 'geezer', who had not one single hair on his chinny-chin-chin, could be no more than 16 years old, 17 at the very most.

'Man, you sure do have some mates Tony,' I thought, 'a sociopathic crack-head and a teenage twat. Real good chums.'

'Hey, how are you Kenny mate? I ain't seen you in a while now,' said Tony. He draped his arm around the young lad's back, the boy looking shy and shifty with his hands in his hoody's pockets. 'When are you going to get toking skunk instead of the light shit mate?'

'Um,' said Kenny, looking like he'd made a colossal mistake in coming along to the 'party'. 'I just like doing a bit of the straight grass you sell me. Nothing too heavy.'

'Well you remember, I got some great Blue Cheese; a tenner a gram if you want some.'

'Blue Cheese? What's that?'

Tony looked exasperated. 'It's doesn't matter. Listen, anyway, would you like some vodka? There's some great tipple here.'

'What?' mumbled Kenny, looking all dazed, and peering about the place, the smell of skunk and crack cocaine wafting like perfume through the air.

'Some vodka you know, the devil's juice?' Tony pointed at the bottles on the table in front of the sofa.

'Oh yea, haha, yea sure,' said Kenny. Man he looked like a real innocent lad, possibly bent, but not certain (no real evidence to suggest complete homosexuality).

And as Tony went to fill the lad a glass, Kenny stood there, his hands in his pockets, and looking all nervous and a bit apprehensive.

'It's uh, a nice place,' he said, his eyes rolling about the place and stopping at me and Badoose on the sofa, I with my joint in my mouth, and Badoose with the crack-pipe in his, the pair of us just staring at the guy. 'Yea, some good music too.'

'Hey, Easy Lover, a beast of a tune,' said Tony. As soon as he'd handed Kenny a glass of vodka and juice he started singing a few of the song's lyrics: 'Easy lover, yea, she'll break your heart and then she'll leave youuuu.' I was surprised that this didn't infuriate Badoose.

While Kenny gazed nervously down at his drink, Tony turned his attention to the gold-toothed 'gentleman' on the sofa.

'So, Badoose mate, how's it hanging for you these day, ay? I ain't seen you since you got out of jail for arson.'

Badoose was busy taking a large hit of the crack, the fumes surrounding me like smoke from a fog machine, when he registered Tony's whiny little voice, and rolled his eyes menacingly up at him.

'Yo shut the fuck up bitch! You know I should kick your fuckin' arse all over this fucking room you cunt!'

Tony, suddenly looking like he was going to collapse in trepidation, held his hands out in a calming manner and lowered his voice.

'Hey come on mate, I'm just trying to make conversation, ay. Come on, take it easy, relax.'

Badoose, taking yet another hit, kicked at the small table in front, the bottles rattling and clashing, and looked more pissed off than ever.

'Don't tell me to take it easy cunt! I'll take it easy in my own time boy.'

Tony was still holding his hands out, pissing himself in utter fear, when the doorbell rang again.

'Hmm, I don't remember calling anyone else,' he said, before walking over to the door, the young Kenny still mooching in the middle of the room, sipping uncomfortably at his vodka.

I was finishing the last of my joint, some Bon Jovi shit now playing on the stereo, when I heard the sound of Chantelle's chavvy little voice from the door.

'Well, well, well, look who it is, you coming round here. You got some cheek girl,' said Tony, folding his arms.

'Look Tony, I really need a fix quick. The meth's wearing off. Come on now, give me something will you. Even some bupe will do.'

'Well, you got some money for me girl? I want 20 quid off you for a hit.'

'Look Tony, I'm a little skint mate,' came Chantelle's sorrowful voice; the girl sounded worn out to the point of tears.

Just then, rolling my eyes about in circles, I smiled with an idea forming and got up off the sofa, Badoose looking up at me all paranoid like.

Tony was looking like he was ready to give the girl another Rocky-Balboa-like swing when I patted him on the back, and smiled at Chantelle.

'Hey come on Tony mate,' I said, 'show your courtesy. Listen, how about you let Chantelle have something, and she, you know, sort us out, sexually speaking?'

'Man, I don't know Darren mate, this bitch needs to learn her lesson.'

'Hey Tony man, I think she has. I mean look at the way she is. And besides, I need to fuck mate, I tell you; Victoria has left me in a bad way.'

Tony pondered on it, and then giving in nodded like he always ended up doing.

'Alright Chantelle, you can come on in. But you got to see to Darren's needs if you want your hit. You got that?'

I stared at the heroin-deprived woman and saw that she was in a bad way, a real bad way. She was shaking and shit, bucketful's of sweat pouring from her, and her eyes looked like they'd been sucked back into her face. Her cheekbones were also practically digging through her clammy, coarse flesh.

'Come on in Chantelle,' I said, moving myself and Tony, my arm draped around his shoulder, to the side to let her in.

Thus, with her lips tremoring, Chantelle walked on into the room, glanced a couple of times at Badoose and Kenny, before looking over at Tony by the door.

'Come on Tony, I'm in a really bad way, the meth's leaving my system fast. I need a hit. Please.'

'Hey Tony. Look, if you give me the gear mate,' I said, 'I'll take her into the bedroom with me, and she can shoot up there.'

'Hmm. Alright Darren, it's your call mate. You know where the shit is. It's in the bag.'

And as Tony closed the front door, I looked at Chantelle, her face continuing to sweat like water down a draining board.

'Come on Chantelle,' I said, taking her shivering hand in mine. 'We can go into the bedroom with some gear. You can shoot up there. Sound good?'

Chantelle just nodded, looking like she was in the midst of some nasty fever or something, and I moved with her over to the sportsbag to get the gear and stuff required: powders, syringe, spoon.

Tony, meanwhile, decided to pour himself another drink, and soon started bobbing his head about all joyfully to the Bon Jovi song playing in the background, glancing at the shy Kenny and the hard-faced Badoose each with a smile.

'Your love is like bad medicine yea, bad medicine ain't what I need,' he sang as he sipped away, starting to dance a little, his fingers flexing.

'You shut your fucking gay-ass mouth boy!' shouted Badoose, kicking at the table and clenching the crack-pipe in his vein-cluttered hand.

'Hey, take it easy Badoose, it's a catchy tune, that's all.'

'What did I tell you boy about saying that to me!' shouted Badoose, 'don't tell me to take it mother fuckin' easy you midget fuck!'

'Hey, I forgot mate. I'm really sorry mate, I apologise again. Honest mate, was a mistake. Really was mate.'

Holding Chantelle's trembling, sweaty hand in mine, I walked with her, the gear now in my other hand, over to the bedroom, and as I closed the door behind me, I just caught the sound of Badoose yet again telling Tony to shut the fuck up.

In the bedroom, Chantelle immediately snatched the gear from my hand but accidently dropped each aberrant item on the floor. And as I watched her quickly crouch down and proceed to pick the gear up, I shook my head with a smirk.

'You know Chantelle, I think you've got a serious problem with that shit, I really do,' I said.

Chantelle just glanced at me once before quickly sprinkling out a load of powder onto the spoon.

'You're a proper Inspector Clouseau, aren't you Darren.'

Sitting myself down on the edge of the bed, I watched the woman as she did what she had to do, her hands tremoring and moving in a rush.

'I need that cup of water,' she said, pointing at the cup that was on my bedside table.

'That's cold coffee Chantelle.'

'Whatever, just give it to me will you.'

I huffed and stretching out my arm passed the cup over to her.

Then, with her fingers clasping the cup, she poured some of the milky, cold coffee onto the spoon and set about boiling her substance with a cheap red lighter. The bubbles that soon began to form looked all chocolate-like in appearance, and I watched it garishly, sensing the chemicals which tinged my nostrils.

Once it was ready, Chantelle glanced up at me.

'I need your fucking belt,' she said, holding the spoon, an unsettled look to her face, those eyes sore like blistering flesh.

I just huffed again and yanked off my belt rather languidly.

'You know, maybe you'd like to spank me with this later. I like a bit of pain Chantelle. Did you know it turns me on? I tell you, you could do whatever you wanted to me. You could put your cigarettes out on my flesh if you wanted.' After that I folded the leather object up in my hand and handed it out to the woman, watching as she hurriedly wrapped it round her arm, pulling it tight across her elbow.

'Man, I got to see this shit up close,' I said.

And quickly, I hopped off the bed and crouched down by Chantelle who'd now given herself a hearty intravenous injection of hard drugs. I watched curiously as she closed her eyes and let out a small grunt of a moan, bliss and ecstasy flourishing wildly behind those lids.

'Feel good ay?' I said, smiling, and really turned on by the sight of Chantelle's euphoric face. 'Man that shit must feel good girl. Maybe I should try one day.' But I swiftly shook my head after a moment's reconsideration. 'Nah, fuck it, don't need that problem. Should just stick to the odd Valium every now and then.'

'Oh ... yes, so much better,' uttered Chantelle sluggishly, and after that her head went floppy and her muscles became loose and relaxed.

'Yea, you look so fuckin' high Chantelle. Now there's a girl dancing on cloud nine if ever I saw one.'

Then, feeling the raging horn suddenly take hold of me, I moved my face towards Chantelle's neck and began caressing it with slow, carnal kisses.

'Do you like that as well Chantelle?' I said. 'The feel of my lips on your heroinised neck girl?'

The woman just gazed at me, sleepily, through her narrowed, panther-like eyes, and I soon started caressing all of her neck and shoulders in a multitude of fervent kisses. I also began lifting up her Le chic t-shirt that she was wearing, getting it up over her arms and off her head.

'Let's make you more comfortable, ay, even if you are off your fucking head on smack, haha.'

Once the piece of clothing was off, I unclipped her bra, my fingers loosening those clips behind her back, and then with her tits and those hard, pellet-like nipples on display, I began caressing her bare chest, which felt hot and sweaty in that feverish way against my lips.

'Oh, yes, it's warm Chantelle, so warm,' I purred. And I found myself swirling my throbbing tongue around her nipples like they were the tastiest, sweetest dried-apricots I'd ever tasted before, nibbling them gently, devouring and sucking those beauts in my mouth. I even thought for a second I could taste the milky residues seeping from them, but I wasn't sure if it was just some rather vinegary sweat or not. I observed Chantelle's eyes shutting slowly, and after an erotic while spent kissing her I lay her gently down on the carpet and got myself on top of her.

'Oh Chantelle, you sexy woman. I know me and you haven't met eye to eye, but I feel like we have a real connection, don't you.' I continued purring as I carried on licking her chest, my tongue indulging in some kind of sweat-consuming debauchery.

Then I stuck my hand down the front of the blue jeans she was wearing and stroked my fingers across her cunt, a searing moisture coating my hands with a mild stickiness, before fiddling about for her clit which felt like a tonsil at the back of your throat, very wet and fleshy.

'Oh Chantelllllle.'

I couldn't hear her say anything, she just stayed all quiet as I stroked at that cunt of hers; and she didn't get wet either, but I was getting pretty stiff, and I soon found myself releasing my hand from her crotch region and grinding my body against the woman, my cock tingling orgasmically.

'Oh fuck yea,' I said. Man, I guess I was really dry humping the bitch, my eyes closing as I breathed out my steaming, moist breath all over her face, with her own eyes closing and her body feeling even floppier than before. To say I felt tepid with lust would have been an understatement, and I could feel myself coming like a Formula One sports-car to a finishing line; it was one of the best sexual experiences I'd ever felt, like I was really connected with a human being, despite my lover's patent inertia.
And then I came, sweetly, cordially.

'Oh fuuuuck yea,' I uttered, as I blew a load of cum abundantly inside my trousers, the ejaculate ejecting from my cock like throbbing liquid from a petrol pump. 'Daaaammm ... goooood ... cuuum.'

Eventually, my panting died down and I opened my eyes, orgasmically overwhelmed.

'Well Chantelle, was it as good for you as it was for me?' I smiled and nearly laughed cheekily, but it was suddenly then that I noticed a bit of vomit seeping from Chantelle's mouth, a big of white, sickly liquid. 'Chantelle?'

There had been a frenzy of panic hit me – possibly made worse from the amount of skunk I'd toked – and I found myself standing over Chantelle, staring down at her floppy, inanimate body. But the panic had been around 10 minutes ago, and now 10 minutes later I still didn't know what to do. Fuck, I mean, had I waited too long? Fuck, I don't know. Should I have called an ambulance? Fuck, I couldn't have done that though could I. Jesus, I just didn't know what to do.

'The fuck I gonna do?' I thought, my head clouded by the skunk and my hands rubbing at my face which felt hot and sweaty. It felt way too hot in the room, to such an extent that I quickly grabbed the cup of coffee from the floor and splashed it over my face. It seemed to do the trick, but I still felt my heart pound away in my chest, with my adrenal glands practically burning themselves out.

Then I thought of Tony.

'Tony ... yes Tony will know what to do. In fact, this is that cunt's problem, not fucking mine. That little fuckface chimp brought her here; he can fuckin' take care of her. Yes.' Nodding a bit, trying to reassure myself, I then turned around and opened the door.

Tony was busy taking a hit of crack in the middle of the room from another glass pipe of his, with Badoose doing the same on the sofa and Kenny still mooching nervously where he'd been all along, sipping at his vodka, when I came on into the room, my hands trembling a bit.

'Uh, Tony mate, Tony,' I said, my heart all over the place, disturbed, fragmented beats pounding in my chest. In the background, Rock you like a hurricane began to play.

'Hey Darren mate,' said Tony, noticing me, 'having a good time with Chantelle, ay? Chantelle give you a good blow did she, ay? Haha.'

'Tony, Tony ...' I said, and I held my hand out at the douchebag, 'just shut the fuck up will you. Please just shut the fuck up you fucking stupid gremlin prick.'

'Alright, alright, keep your hair on mate, you'll be needing propecia if you're not careful haha. Hey, and then you'll end up not being able to get it up like me, haha. Then again, I shouldn't really be joking about that, caus it ain't funny. But anyway mate, you all good?'

In fear and anxiousness, loud police sirens resonating in my mind like slicing knives, I looked up from the floor at Tony and nearly grimaced. 'What?' I said.

'You good dog?' said Tony, licking his crack-smeared lips, and pointing all 'gangsta-like' at me with his fingers.

But Badoose took immediate offence and removed his pipe from his mouth.

'Hey boy, what the fuck you talkin' like that for? You ain't black. What, you taking the piss are you now? You taking the fucking piss?' Then, standing abruptly up from the sofa, Badoose began moving intimidatingly over to Tony, the veins in his obsequious neck tautening.

'No, no, mate, I ain't taking the piss,' said a petrified Tony, his hands out in front, the faecal matter ready to explode violently from his arse.

'You taking the piss ay boy? You taking the piss ay?' continued Badoose. Then, with a quick whipping action of his hand, he slapped Tony across the cheek, with Tony's face speeding left in a nasty twist.

'Hey listen!' I suddenly yelled. 'Look, there's a fucking problem, ok!!' And suddenly, I nearly starting weeping in distress. 'It's fucking Chantelle, right. Look, I think the bitch may be dead. I mean, I don't know what the fuck happened like, think the bitch took too much shit or something, but she's like ... not moving or anything, she's fucking like ... inanimate and shit.' Fuck, I nearly starting crying like a complete fucking poofter right then and there; but I managed to pull myself together a little and gain some balls.

'Hey, Darren mate, relax man, she's probably just passed out or something, you know, just drowsy,' said Tony, casually and like there was absolutely nothing wrong.

'Fucking passed out?' I said, bewildered by Tony's ridiculous nonchalance.

'Yea, you know, she's done it before. She's probably just, you know, a bit tired or something.'

'A bit tired or something??' And in complete irritation I moved away from the door and pointed at Chantelle's body which was now clearly visible on the carpet by the bed, vomit staining her mouth and cheeks like sticky porridge.

At this, Tony and Badoose stared in the direction of the bedroom, and straight after that Kenny came rushing to look.

'Oh fucking shit!' said Kenny, his hands clasped around his face. 'What the fuck? There's ... a woman. She's like ... dead. Oh this is fucking bad man. Oh fucking shit!' Then the lad began to get real fucking freaked out and starting shaking his head like some autistic madman. 'And I'm fucking here. Oh my god! And I'm here, with you guys. Fuck me!'

Tony, taking his mildly alarmed eyes away from Chantelle's body, walked towards Kenny and held his hands out to try and calm the guy down.

'Hey buddy, mate, relax ok, take a deep a breath. This is going to be ok, don't you worry.'

'Oh my god, I can't believe this shit! My parents are going to like fucking kill me over this. Oh my god I'm in so much trouble!' Kenny placed his hands on his forehead and began weeping like a bitch.

'Hey mate, come on, chill bruv, come on, chill, relax. All will be ok.' Then Tony placed his hands on Kenny's shoulders and began trying to really reassure the young man that his future was still in store.

Meanwhile, by the door way, the crack-blooded Badoose, looking like he gave not a single fuck in the world about the situation, walked over to the sofa, flung himself back onto it, and straight away kicked at the stereo by its side, the music that was playing – Breakfast at Tiffany's – abruptly ending.

'I'm sick of this gay-ass music shit. Dam, get some fuckin' rave shit or somethin'.'

Tony, who was now giving Kenny a full-on hug, flipped his eyes up at me by the doorway and tried to look positive.

'Hey Darren, look, check her pulse ok, she must still be breathing. She must be breathing.'

'Yes, she must, mustn't she?' I said, nodding. 'Bitch must be.'

Hence speedily, I moved back into the bedroom and began checking Chantelle's body for a pulse. But I couldn't find one.

'Oh fuck man,' I said, spending a good while searching. 'I ain't finding a pulse Tony man! I ain't fuckin' finding one!'

And in some kind of Rambo-like jog, Tony came springing on into the room – a panic-stricken Kenny left crying like a girl in his hands – and quickly kneeling down started slapping at Chantelle's face, his palm and the back of his hand taking turns to swipe the woman's face repeatedly.

'Chantelle, come on girl, wake the fuck up! Hey, if this is another one of your tricks girl, boy am I gonna go full on Rocky Balboa on you girl! No, Raging Bull that's what!'

Tony was scrunching his hands up, doing a shoddy impression of a boxer, when I glimpsed Badoose walking on into the room where he instantly smiled and laughed a couple of times, his wrist leaning against the door way, his face thoroughly amused.

'Sheaaaht,' he laughed. 'Fuck, you guys in some trouble. Haha.'

Tony, still convinced that Chantelle was all right, lifted Chantelle's eye-lids up with his fingers, but he soon gave up and just nodded in acceptance.

'Yep, I think she be dead Darren. Fuckin' OD'd I think, not sure. But whatever the reason, this bitch be dead.'

'Oh ... fuck,' I said, closing my eyes. 'Oh man this is bad.'

Now Kenny in the other room started really freaking out and in another stupendous frenzy started having some kind of fit, his breathing playing up, his arms all over the place.

'Oh this is so fucking bad man, this is so fucking bad!' he wept.

But we all just had to ignore him. I mean, sometimes a nigga gotta freak out, right? I couldn't laugh though; man I couldn't laugh my way out of this one.

It was after Tony and I had become accustomed to the shock of having an OD'd dead bitch laying on the floor in the bedroom that we walked on out into the living room, while Badoose, still thoroughly amused, continued to stare at the body from the doorway.

'Shhheat,' he laughed again, 'dead bitch in the bathroom. Haha, fuck me, that some fucking shit boy.'

Kenny, who'd somehow managed to control his frantic, panic-ridden demeanour, looked at Tony and then me, his eyes wide like a prolapsed arsehole.

'Look, right, I have nothing to do with this, ok. As far as I'm concerned, this is none of my fucking business. So ... I think ... what I shall do ... is to just leave you guys to your business, of whatever that may be, you know, and I'll just leave now, right.'

'Look Kenny,' said Tony, his hand held out at the young man, 'everything's gonna be cool, ok. There's nothing to be worried about.'

'Oh I'm not worried. I'm not worried at all,' said Kenny. And then, smiling through his blatant, laxative-inducing nervousness, he began taking footsteps back towards the front door, his gaze alternating from Tony, me, and Badoose by the bedroom doorway. 'I'm just gonna leave now, you know, just leave you guys in your world of ... drugs ... and peace ... and stuff, you know.'

Turning around, Badoose glanced at the boy from the doorway, his forearm against the side.

'That's right boy, you run along now,' he said. 'This is some big boy shit. So you getcha skinny lil white ass outta here ... before I whoop your ass.'

And Kenny did just that. With speed, he opened the door and like the briefest flash of the brightest lightning descended outside, the door slamming shut behind him.

'Haha, little cock. Dickhead needs to toughen his ass up, or some nigga gonna fuck it.'

I was listening to the sounds of Kenny's frenetic footsteps as they peddled off down the street outside, when I registered the black man's gruff, ominous, foreboding voice in the background.

'So,' he said, walking casually over to the sofa and flinging himself back down on it, his arms out at the back like he owned the place. 'Bet you all pissing yourselves over this shit, ay? Haha.'

'Well aren't you?' I said.

But I instantly regretted my use of words, as Badoose, his smirk quickly morphing into an expression of blood-curdling anger, pointed sternly at me like he was going to beat seven shades of shit out of me with a steel baseball bat.

'Hey cunt, you watch your fuckin' mouth boy! This shit ain't my problem, is it. This is yours and gremlin-face over there's problem, you hear me you little shit covered prick-stick?' It was after about 10 seconds that the guy regained his casual, nonplussed demeanour, and straightened himself out. 'But, you know, I just may be able to help you boys out.'

'Really?' said Tony, in a sudden bout of optimism. 'How mate? How?'

'Well ...' and Badoose brushed at his black t-shirt, 'for the right price, anything be possible.'

'What, like, you want cash ... in exchange for getting rid of Chantelle?' I said.

'Naaaaaaah, I want you to bend over the windowsill while I fuck you with my big black dick! Course for cash you twat. I tell you, for 2 grand, I can get that bitch erased like a fly's fart in a storm. Getting rid of dead bitches is a speciality of mine.'

I quickly thought about it. Man, 2 grand, fuck that was expensive. But still, I had that cash didn't I. I still had about 16 grand left of my mother's cash, 5 grand of it up in a box in the wardrobe and the rest in my bank account, just waiting to get drawn out. I tell you, under the current circumstances, 2 grand seemed like a very reasonable price for a very cancerous problem.

'Alright, you get rid of Chantelle, and I'll give you 2 grand.'

'You got 2 grand on you?' said Tony, his right eye widening in a bulge.

'Yea, I've got it on me.'

'Sheeeaht, guess a nigga always keeps 2 grand on him. Like a packet o' cigarettes haha.'

'Yea, well you know, don't like to keep it all in a bank do you. Never know when the cash is going to come in handy.'

Badoose laughed a couple of times and then stared at me, like he was observing the very core of my being.

'Right,' he soon said after a small think, 'this is how this shit's gonna go down. And you betta listen up good, caus I don't like to repeat myself, you know what I'm sayin.'

'Hey Badoose, we're listening mate, we're listening,' said Tony. Man, the gremlin-faced heroin addict looked attentive, with his ears quivering like they were ready to absorb vital information.

'Hey nigga, calm the fuck down fool!' said Badoose, gesturing with his hand. 'Calm the fuck down boy!'

'I'm calm, I'm calm, I'm really calm,' said Tony, nodding really fast like a mad man.

'Right then, so here it is. Here's how shit's gonna go down. After Mr. Fucking I-Accidentally-Killed-A-Bitch over there gets me my 2 grand.' And Badoose looked over at me, somewhat in disgust.

'Hey, I didn't kill her, alright. She fuckin' OD'd, ok. I did not kill her,' I quickly protested.

'Yea, whatever, just listen up. After I receive my cash, I want you two numpties to pick up the dead bitch and take her to my Porsche outside, where you dump that bitch in the back seat. Then we'll get going and dispose of her.'

'And how we gonna go that?' I asked.

'Hey nigga shut the fuck up! You just fucking do what I say, you hear?!'

'Alright,' I said, flabbergasted, my hand shaking in the air.

'And another thing, that's a nice mother fuckin' motor I got myself, so you two make sure that bitch don't leave a bad smell or vomit anyway. Caus if there is, you two will be finding yourselves up to your deadbeat necks in a couple of bins filled up with concrete, you hear me?' Fuck I could picture that: me and Tony up to our necks in a couple of blue recycling bins, our conscious selves slowly suffocating to death. Fuck, what a horrorshow.

'Hey, we won't make a mess mate, we promise,' said Tony.

'I fuckin' know you won't make a mess,' said Badoose, pointing threateningly at Tony before relaxing. 'Well anyway, Darren, or whatever the fuck your honkey-ass name is, you get my mother fuckin' money and let's get this shit going.'

I just stared at him, a bit dazed and confused.

'Nigga, I ain't got all day!'

'Yes, I'll get it now, I'll get it now.'

So, running on into the bedroom, I counted 2 grand from my wardrobe, and after quickly hiding the rest of my money under my mattress in case the psychopathic crack-head was going to try and do one over on me, I went back into the living room and held the compressed notes out to Badoose.

'That for me?' said the guy, now smoking a roll of skunk that Tony had quickly given him on his command. 'Hey, you might as well av wrapped it up as it's my birthday next week.' He gave me an evil little smile before snatching the notes from my hand and quickly placing them rather neatly in his inside jacket pocket.

'Right ladies,' he said, 'go get the dead bitch laying there in the bedroom.'

'What, like, we pick her up ... or ... something??' said Tony, looking like he'd smoked a little too much shit.

Badoose just gave Tony a look like he was going to do some serious fucking testicular damage, Tony quickly receiving the message.

'Hey, I got it mate, I've got it. It's crystal clear.'

'I'll be waiting outside for the pair of you, checking that no one be looking about the place and shit.'

As Badoose went to open the front door, I and Tony shared a panicky, fretful gaze, like, 'Help! Help! We Need Some Mother Fuckin' Help!'

'Right,' I said, running my hand down my cheek, 'I think we'll have to do another Chuckle Brothers.'

'Yea, good plan,' said Tony, nodding.

And the Chuckle Brothers it was to be, as, with me grabbing Chantelle by her shoulders and Tony grabbing her by the legs, we got the woman out of the bedroom and through into the living room.

'To me,' I said, my eyes fixed on the open front door.

'To you,' said Tony.

'To me.'

'To you.'

Badoose had walked on back into the room by the time Tony's back had reached the door, and he smiled pretty sadistically.

'The safe is clear ladies,' he said. 'You may proceed.' Man, Badoose was a right cunt, I thought. But what could you do, ay? What the fuck could you do.

Once I and Tony were outside, I looked up at Badoose's car parked a few feet away, its wheels neatly tucked behind the curb of the pavement. Man it was a fucking nice car: a shiny red Porsche which looked worth at least 70 grand. A real beaut of a motor.

'To me,' I said, Tony nearly tripping and twisting his ankle as he moved backwards.

'To you,' said Tony.

Then, once at the beaming red Porsche, which Badoose had 'courteously' opened for us, I and Tony began positioning Chantelle on the backseats like a tuckered out child, the smell of fresh leather strong inside and drifting up my nose like diluted bleach.

'Right, that's her in,' said Tony, brushing his hands together as if he'd done a bloody good job. I almost wanted to congratulate him for it as well. Well done Tone, well done!

Slamming my apartment's front door hard so that the glass in the windows rattled, Badoose walked leisurely over to the car where I and Tony were loitering uncomfortably by, slightly paranoid that people were looking at us.

'Hey, don't know why you two lookin' about the place all paranoid like and shit. Ain't know nigga watchin',' said Badoose. He then really alarmed me by cupping his hands and yelling out into the street, 'Look everybody!! There's a dead bitch in that car over there!!' But apart the guy's echo reverberating about the place, no one appeared to notice, not one fucking response. 'See, no nigga gives a shit.'

I and Tony shared another panicky look, and waited for Badoose to 'guide' us in the next stage.

'Right, let's get going with this ay, you two lookin' like a pair of pimps or some shit. Tony, you sit your skinny lil be-hind in the back with the bitch. And you, fuckface,' Badoose looked at me, 'you can sit in the front, ya fuckin' bitch killer.'

I really wanted to tell him again that I didn't kill Chantelle, but I kept my mouth shut that time like I had a zipper sown over my lips.

Tony quickly nodded in his compliant, dopey way before arching his back forwards to get inside the car. He also had to lift up Chantelle's head and shoulders to get a seat, eventually resting the woman's head on his lap like she was giving him a fantastic blow-job from beyond the grave. But what that ghost mouth do??

Now all inside, I noticed how expensive it all looked in the interior: smooth grey leather, high quality speakers at the front, and an assortment of gadgets dominating below the windscreen. Some real snazzy shit I tell ya. I almost nodded as Badoose pressed a button to close the doors which came sliding smoothly down with a splendidly electronic sound, like a morphing transformer in one of them Michael Bay action flicks.

'Right, y'all better put yer seatbelts on,' said Badoose, glancing at us, 'not that I'm concerned about your safeties or shit, caus I ain't. It's just that if somehow, by miraculous chance, I end up crashing this bitch into some fuckin' wall or something, caus I is stoned and shit, then I don't want either of you two to end up shooting forwards and damaging that reem-ass glass in my windshield, do I.'

I just sat there, wishing like crazy I was in a happy place, far, far away from there, like the land of the Teletubbies or some shit.
'Well, put that bitch on boy!' bellowed Badoose, right in my ear-drum.

Feeling really fucking stressed out, like on the verge of suicidal thoughts, I fastened the strap around my chest, with the sound of Tony clicking in his own coming from the back.

'Right, let's get this mother fucker rolling BIAAATCH!' And with a sharp movement of the gear-stick Badoose quickly shot the vehicle out of the street, my stomach instantly struck with a potent shot of adrenalin and my neck nearly succumbing to whiplash. Fucking hell, what a take off! What a fucking take off!

It was as Badoose sped off down the street like a rocket that he began pressing some buttons on the music player to the left of the steering wheel and proceeding to find a song to play.

'Man let's get some real fuckin' tunes on for once. None of that gay-ass shit you been playing Tony. Man, da fuck was that shit??' He clicked and clicked away, and in no time at all some serious bass-heavy gangsta shit began playing, my ears nearly deafened by an eruption of hip-hop beats from the speakers; I could even feel my chest vibrate from the sound.

'Yea, now that some serious sheaht boyaaa!!' said Badoose, staring out in front, his head and body starting to move about in beat to the tune. 'Boooooy!!!!'

I listened in – as it was fucking impossible not to – and thought I could recognise the artist. I'm pretty sure it was ASAP Rocky, but I'm not sure.

'It's a dope tune,' I said loudly.

At my comment, Badoose abruptly looked at me and as usual looked all angry and shit, like he was going to head-butt me right in the fuckin' face.

'Yo shut the fuck up bitch!' he bellowed at me, before turning his face away and shaking off the anger. 'I don't need you to tell me it's good. I fuckin' know it's a dope tune bruv! I know that the shit!'

The music continued to blast and Badoose soon made some manic road turns, the wheels screeching like a cat to a mincer. Then he took out Tony's glass crack-pipe – evidently he'd decided to keep it – from his pocket and sparked some flint with his lighter.

'Oh mother fucker!' he suddenly roared. 'No fuckin' rock left?! Mother fucker!!' He shook his head and clenched his fist, trying to relax, his teeth grinding like a rusty bicycle chain. 'Dam, guess I'll have to use some crystal rock. Yo boy,' he looked at me, 'open the glove compartment will ya; you'll find some meth in there somewhere. Give me one.'

Quickly and compliantly, I clicked a button on the glove compartment, but then before I could register it a load of Uzi shaped guns fell out all over my lap and the base of the car. And as I gazed at the guns, pretty fucking alarmed, Badoose looked at me and displayed another one of his sadistic smiles.

'Oooops,' he said. 'Come on, just give me some rock boy. I need my rock. Rock is what I need.'

I nodded and then, putting my hand in the glove compartment, proceeded to search about for a rock of crystal meth. I tell you, the shit that was in that glove compartment was as mental as an asylum: guns, packets of weed, sachets of cocaine, condoms, a couple of switchblades, wallets, a load of passports, loads of fucking pills, and of course a packet of crystal meth which I quickly fiddled around in for a rock. Once I had one, I closed the compartment – not even daring to put the escaped guns back inside – and handed it to Badoose.

'Give me that!' he said, snatching the gear. 'That's my meth boy. It's got my name written on it, ya see?'

Moving my face close towards it, I worked out Badoose's name engraved in the centre of the sugar-coloured rock, small italic letters written somewhat poetically.

'Yo getcha gay-ass face away from me nigga,' said Badoose. Was I really black?

I watched the guy for a bit as he began setting up his pipe, some interesting glows ejecting from it as he ultimately lit it, and after that I gazed out in front, my ears already sore from that real hardcore music playing.

As I gazed out at the windscreen I began to notice something coming towards the glass: a small fairy with big blue wings like a tropical butterfly's, hovering about and spraying a load of green and yellow dust about the place from its mouth, the colours strong and vivid like absinthe in the dark. Then the lil creature began looking at me, and I smiled its way, and it smiled back, and for a moment I felt totally relaxed and connected with some divine specimen of an animate object. But then the fairy flew away into the distance, and instead of its interestingly abstract appearance I began to hear Badoose's unearthly voice as he began singing along to the tune playing.

'Rolling bitches ... mmm mmm ... 69s comin' atcha boy ... yea, cap your ass boy if yo come near me bitch ... yea, snuzz a nigga for reallll who trya roll me royce,' he rapped, his head moving about like he was receiving a dam good blow-job from some plumped-lipped Jamaican ho. Boy did I wish I was receiving one; would have certainly helped with the stress.

Badoose had been driving for about 20 minutes when, now at a fairly remote, and unknown to my eyes, area of the city, he pulled the Porsche up by some empty, shabby looking bus-stop, and after pressing a button so that the doors all opened, he looked over his shoulder at Tony, Chantelle's head laying there on his lap like a sex-doll.

'Right, get the bitch out of the car and place her by the edge of that bus shelter next to the car,' he said, almost as if he was bored and had more productive things to be doing with his time.

'What? But I thought you were going to dispose of the body mate,' said Tony, 'not just leave her somewhere. I mean, a bus-stop, that's not a great place to leave her, is it? We'd be better off dropping her outside a hospital or something.'

I didn't even bother saying anything, not one peep; I just closed my eyes and waited for that menacing dinosaur-like raw to come springing out of Badoose's mouth.

'Hey listen here cunt! If I tell you to put that bitch over there, then you put that bitch over there! And you do as you're fucking told boy!' Badoose then punched Tony violently on the kneecap, a bone or two shattering like chalk.

'Oh, fuck that hurt!' moaned Tony, his hands covering his knee, his face drawn in pain. 'Oh me bleedin' knee!!!'

'Now get that bitch on the floor outside the bus-shelter!!' said Badoose. Now I was next to get an earful. 'You, fuckin' help him! Go on, get the fuck out my car bitch!'

I just nodded, feeling deeply intimidated, and quickly got out of the vehicle, Tony doing the same.

'Coar, bit chilly outside ain't it,' said Tony.

I looked at him and almost wanted to thump him right on his snout.

'Shut up Tony for fuck sake; come on, let's get the woman out.'

As Tony and I began lifting out Chantelle's floppy body from the seats and out onto the pavement outside the bus shelter, I could sense Badoose having a good old laugh at the pair of us: we were definitely like a Chuckle Brothers tribute act.

'Right, that's that done,' I said. Then I moved over to the front of the Porsche and looked on through at Badoose, waiting for what the guy wanted us to do next. 'Right, that's that done, what now?'

Badoose just looked incredibly uninterested as he gazed out of the windscreen and slowly turned his sullen face towards me, his right hand holding the steering wheel, his fingers flexing.

'Now,' he said, 'get the fuck away from my car bitch.'

'What? You're just going to leave us here?'

Just then, Badoose suddenly grabbed one of the Uzi guns from the base of the car and pointed it at me, his finger right on that trigger, just wanting a reason to pull it.

'Yo cunt, you betta back the fuck away before I pop a mother fuckin' cap in ya white ass!' he said, his jaw clenched, those gold gnashers of his grating against each other.

I swallowed in complete fear and with my heart skipping some more beats held my hands up in defence, my feet slowly moving back.

'Come on, easy now, ay, easy,' I uttered. 'I'm leaving man.'

'Yea, you do that boy.' Straight after that, Badoose put the gun down on the vacant seat next to him and replaced it with his crack-pipe. 'And I'm keeping this crack-pipe, you hear me. This is my crack-pipe now. Man I like this mother fuckin' crack-pipe, could just be my new favourite.'

I wanted to run as I stood back from the car, and glanced at Tony who was scratching the back of his head near the bus-shelter. Then, tensing up, I watched as the Porsche's doors came sliding down, the loud-as-fuck rap music resuming like a series of piercing gun shots; and in no time at all the Porsche went speeding off into the distance, rubber burning against gravel.

'Well Tony, you sure do have some interesting 'pals' don't cha. Yea, real fucking charmers they are.' Man, I wanted to kick the living shit out of Tony, beat him to a bloody meatball of a pulp, but I just bit my lip in vexation, so hard that it started bleeding.

'Look, Darren, I know you're probably thinking this is all my fault, and I don't blame you. But I'm sorry buddy, I'm sorry, ok.'

'Just shut the fuck up,' I said. 'You fucking idiot. You fucking twatface.'

After a short period of silence, Tony broke it.

'So, what now ay?'

'I'm getting the fuck out of here, that's what.'

Putting my hands in my pockets, I began walking speedily away from the bus-stop, and away from that disturbing, inert body, which lay there on the ground like some satanic object. But I stopped when I realised Tony was still at the bus-stop.

'Well, you coming then you fucking dickhead!' I said, glancing back at him.

'Might as well take the bus home,' the guy replied.

'Oh!!' I yelled up into the air. 'You fucking nob ed!!!!'

And quickly, I resumed walking off into the distance.


I had a pretty bad sleep that night, I must say, tossing and turning and sweating with hideous dreams of chainsaws, hitchhikers, and dreadlocked gangsters pervading my subconscious. Not great.

'Shit, oh fuck, shit, no, fuckin' hitchhiker, leave me alone god dam!!' I found myself yelling out, my eyes opening in a flash. 'Oh Deidre Barlow.'

Wiping the copious amount of sweat off my face I swallowed and wished Victoria was by my side to comfort me in those hours of immense discomfort; but then I quickly began hating the bitch more than ever for betraying me like she did (even if I had, in a fucked up way, betrayed her to start with lol. But fuck it! She was a woman for fuck sake, and she should have known better than to suck some other guy's dick. The bitch!!).

'Fuckin' cunt! Leaving me!!' I wept. 'The fucking cunt can have that hitchhiker freak. I don't care.'

I tell you, trying to get back to sleep was certainly difficult, and there were continuous, foreboding nightmares prevailing, with that god dam mother fuckin' hitchhiker tormenting me by banging Victoria in front of my very eyes, right in the middle of some smoky farm, pigs, chickens and other animals bobbing about the place with their corkscrew cocks. And the geezer – if I can even call the poofter that – had a big cock as well, which of course made it all the more worse for me, with my regular-Joe six incher looking like a small ice-lolly in comparison.

'No, Victoria, don't take that dick girl!' I blurted out through the nighttime air, some little pig busy wiggling its tail and anus in front of me. 'You'll get Aids!'

But the geezer just smiled at me with a hideous set of huge vampire-like gnashers as Victoria took that big dick on all fours.

Yes, it was certainly difficult sleeping with those images in my head!

The next couple of days were fairly quiet ones, with me and Tony keeping well out of each other's way, him in particular as he knew I was really fuckin' pissed with him, having nearly decked him a couple of times when he'd said the wrong thing.

'You callin' me a cunt ay Tony?! You callin' me a cunt?!'

'No mate, Darren, I'm not mate. I'm not.'

'You callin' me a cunt are ya??!! Ay?! Callin' me a cunt?!'

'No mate Darren, I'm not. You're paranoid mate. You're paranoid!'

A major reason for my contempt for Tony was because, in spite of me of course being more directly implicated in Chantelle's demise, I felt like he was solely responsible as he was the one who'd brought the bitch here in the first place. I mean, fuck everything seemed to be this geezer's fault; if that little gremlin-faced freak hadn't come round here in the first place, then I'd still have my beautiful piece of Russian cheesecake, Victoria, and receiving some good, sloppy, tonguetastic blow-jobs round the clock (man I missed those blow-jobs!). Dam, why the fuck did I have to open the door on the prick. Why??!!!!

Although, on the positive side at least the prick had been sticking to his sleeping bag on the living room floor and not lying his greasy self on the sofa. Yes, at least the sofa was ok.

As what became of the 'Chantelle situation', I was very fortunate that the pigs in blue hadn't come sniffing round or anything; there hadn't been any link to me so far which was good. And after a couple of days I noticed a small article in the local newspaper about some OD'd woman who'd been found dead.

'Unidentified woman found dead from overdose at bus-stop. Not being treated as suspicious,' it read.

There was no picture of the woman, but I'm pretty fucking certain it was Chantelle; I mean, come on, it fucking had to be: a dead smack-head at a bus-stop, who else could it have fucking been?! Doris Day?? Lol. I was almost tempted to frame the newspaper that I'd got, but I shook my head and after scrunching it up tossed it in the bin, wanting to erase all memory of that cold, dark incident from my mind. (I think the skunk definitely helped a bit.)

It was on the fourth day after Chantelle's passing that, sitting at the kitchen table, devouring a slice of marmite-covered toast, I watched Tony come on into the kitchen. My eyes suddenly bulged in surprise when I saw that the bloke was dressed in what appeared to be some kind of suit: a blue shirt, grey tie, and a pair of grey trousers pulled up to his stomach to make him appear less of the borderline dwarf that he was.

'The fuck you wearing?' I said.

'It's a suit mate, you like it?' replied Tony, snatching my slice of toast and crunching at it like a rodent.

I just looked right at the cunt, and saw that he was washed and clean shaven without a hint of stubble present on his face.

'Give me that!' I said, snatching the toast back before shoving the bloke away. 'That's my toast. Only that bitch Victoria could do that.'

'Sorry mate. Man, the jam's sure been sucked out of your donut, ain't it.'

At that irritating comment, I wanted to deck the bloke hard on the nose with my forehead so that a liquid-heavy profusion of blood came gushing out, ruining his nice, clean suit like thick strawberry treacle.

'Anyway,' I said, 'is there a reason for why you're dressed like an absolute cunt? And also why you've been making all these trips out mid-day to various places, ay?'

That's right, the little sneaky cunt had been going out mid-day the last couple of days in a rather furtive manner; and since Tony was always a late starter, it puzzled me.

'Yea, there is actually. You see, I've got a job interview.'

I almost wanted to laugh out loud in hysterics.

'You?! Got a job interview?! Fuck off!' I said. 'What, like a legit 9-5 job??'

'That's right. You see, the whole situation with Chantelle and everything really made me get my shit together.' Then, looking like he had something profound to say, Tony sat down next to me, me immediately moving my chair away from him in disgust. 'You see, witnessing Chantelle die and everything, it made me realise that I've got a problem Darren, you know, with heroin that is. And also, I realise I can't keep selling gear to people, or I'll get caught and end up in jail. So, I thought, fuck it, I've gotta get my shit together ain't I. And I have. I went to my doctor the other day, and he's given me some stuff to treat my heroin addiction.'

As I looked all strangely and droll-like at Tony, not believing all this shit, the guy took out a cardboard packet of tablets from his pocket and put them on the table. I just glanced at them once, and then up at Tony.

'Da fuck's that shit?' I said.

'That's Naltrexone mate, an opiate blocker. Once I come off the methadone that the doctor has put me on, I start taking this. I tell you, the shit apparently works really well. Totally blocks out all the effects of heroin.'

I squint my eyes at Tony, not knowing what to think, and then at the packet, my pupils perceiving the Boot's pharmacy logo written on the front of it.

Then, in no time at all, Tony gave me this look of optimism, his eyes widening as he gazed sincerely at me. Man, I thought the cunt was going to put his hand over mine then, the poof.

'You know,' he said, 'you should try this shit as well. I've noticed that you've got quite an alcohol problem Darren, and this stuff actually works well on that too, you know.'

'The fuck are you talking about Tony?' I said, shaking my head, flabbergasted.

'It lessens the effects of alcohol mate. You know, like the euphoria and shit.'

Just then my eyes bulged in alarm.

'Lessens the effects of euphoria?! Are you mad??'

'Nah mate, it's proper effective like. You should try it; I sure am.'

I shook my head a little, feeling really quite nauseous at knowing that there was this horrific piece of Clockwork Orange shit on my table, before glancing at the packet again and then up at Tony. And it was by this point that I really began to lose it.

'You know what Tony, I'm fucking sick of this shit. Get the fuck out of my house you cunt!'

'Ay?' uttered Tony.

'You heard me, you cunt.' Standing abruptly up, I grabbed Tony by the collar of his shirt. 'This is all your fault this is you fucking tosser. Victoria leaving me, then Chantelle dying. I should never have let you in here in the first place.' I then picked up the packet of Naltrexone and shoved it in Tony's hands. 'And you can take this shit with you. Fucking opiate blockers, fucking lessening the effects of alcohol!! You sick fuck!'

'No, wait, please Darren mate. I've a job interview. I'm finally getting my life together. I need this, please!' he pleaded.

But I wasn't having any of the pleader's pleas, and briskly I moved him over to the living room, opened the front door and then threw the miserable little wretch out onto the street so that he hit the ground in a violent tumble.

'Cunt!' I shouted.

After that I walked backside inside to grab the big black sportsbag – still heavy with drugs and crack-pipes and other druggie shit (except the skunk which I'd nicked and stashed with my cash in the wardrobe) – and threw it outside so that it hit Tony's legs with a thump.

'And you can take this shit with you! And if I ever see your Gremlin, good-for-nothing mother fuckin' face knocking at my door again, I'll fucking kill you you cunt! I'll fucking murder you with a fuckin' blowtorch you cunting fuck!!'

I gave the bloke a final evil, spit-firing gaze – the guy just weeping there on the ground like a bitch, his hands on his sore legs – before heading off back into the house and slamming the door shut behind me.

'Man I feel a lot better after that,' I said to myself as I re-entered the kitchen. 'I feel much, much better indeed.' Yes, the joy and bliss that I began to feel made me nearly laugh out loud, knowing that I didn't ever have to see that ugly piece of shit again. 'Haha, he's gone!!' I yelled. 'Haha, and I'm fuckin' back on my own, free at mother fuckin' last!!! Boomlakasha!!'

And with happiness prevailing like a river's tranquil stream, I quickly resumed eating my toast.
'Haha, it tastes better than ever!!!'


They say skunk makes you paranoid. Does it? I don't know; maybe it does. All I know is that I felt very peculiar and strange as I sat on the sofa in the living room that evening, a joint in my mouth, and my eyes fixed on the blank television screen. Any normal person would have switched it on, but not me, not the television hating Darren Speck. I just sat there in silence, some weird psychedelic thoughts lurking in my mind, with last trains to hell speeding down flame-besieged tracks.

Then I heard the door open, and for a frustrating moment I thought that that cunt Tony had somehow got himself a key behind my back and was attempting to get in.

'That fucking cocksucker,' I uttered, wishing that there was a shotgun in my hands so I that I could blast a bloody crater of a hole right into the guy's stomach, sending that guy flying back in bursting bubbles of blood. But then I saw that the figure in the doorway had long brunette hair and a womanly frame; and it wasn't long before I realised it was Victoria.

At the first glance of her pristinely beautiful face (the fucking hitchhiker evidently hadn't fucked it up with scratches from his stubbly face) I felt a little strange, and I watched as the woman came on in, a suitcase of her stuff in her hand, and slowly closed the door.

'Darren,' she said, after a moment's glance at me, a sorrowful look to her elegant, Bambi-like eyes.

Ignoring her, I just took a toke of my joint, a vapid, void-of-all-intellectuality look on my face.

'How did you get in?'

'I ... I have a key Darren, don't you remember?' The cock-tease (as Tony had rightly referred to her as) seemed a little surprised that I'd forgotten.

'Oh, right, I forgot. Must be the ganja.'

Then Victoria shook her head slowly, a combination of shame and despair (for me) clearly identifiable.

'Darren, what is happening to you? You just seem to be letting go of yourself.'

I took another toke and shook my head, bewildered.

'Girl, what on earth are you on about?'

'You are a drug addict and an alcoholic Darren.'

I almost wanted to laugh at her comment and for a moment actually felt quite complimented; I mean, that really made me seem quite bad-ass didn't it? Haha, real bad-ass.

'You're talkin' shit girl, now tell me, what the fuck are you doing back here, ay? Who says you could come back? I didn't say you could come back. The front door didn't say you could come back.'

'I was thinking that ...' and Victoria began to look a little teary with a clogged-up nose, 'that we could ... forget about the last week ... and rekindle our relationship.'

I snickered a little. 'Haha, rekindle our relationship. That is a good one Victoria. What about that geezer you been fucking, ay? You know, that ugly cunt hitchhiker? Man, he was butt-ugly.'

'Well ... I wasn't that into him, Darren, and I don't think he was that into me.'

'I'm not fucking surprised, ugly mother fucker.' I grimaced and tried to erase any images of him popping up in my mind. 'So, did you suck him off then?'

A pang of distress hit Victoria right in that sexy lil face of hers at my comment. But I didn't care, it was a bloody good question.

'Well did you, ay?'

Victoria stayed quiet, those tears bubbling in her eyes like acid.

'You did, didn't you. You dirty bitch. Man, you must have sucked him off again and again and again.' Then I pointed cheekily at Victoria, a smirk hovering on my lips. 'I know you girl, what you do with them lips, what you love to do with them lips girl.' Man, I was now starting to get a little turned on.

'Why ... why do you have to be like this Darren?'

'You know, you got some cheek girl,' I said. 'You leave, go and suck of some other geezer with some lynx aftershave, and then you come running back to me! Unbelievable girl.'

'Please Darren. Come on. Let's just forget about all this, and just move on.'

'Hey girl, I am moving on, can't you see? I've been moving on since the moment you walked out that front door. In fact, I've had many birds since you left, many, many birds.'

'Why are you telling me that Darren?' said Victoria, now clearly distressed.

'I'm just laying the cards on the table V, telling you a few home truths.'

And then, taking in a long drag of smoke, so that it filled my lungs and mutated some cells, I exhaled and thought vividly about Chantelle.

'That girl in that DVD you watched, Chantelle's her name. Would you like me to tell you about her?'

'No Darren. Please. Stop it.'

'Well I'll tell you about her V. I'll tell you a few good facts about what I got up to with her. That girl was the best dam fuck I've ever had. The best I tell you. Better than you. I don't know what it was about her; I just really felt a connection between the two of us as we were fucking. A connection that you and me could only faintly have. I mean Chantelle was kinky, don't get me wrong, but she was more of an interesting fuck.'

'Oh Darren,' wept Victoria, now wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand.

'And there was another woman, you know,' I continued, referring to the Spanish escort I banged. 'A woman called Monique. I banged her behind your back, you know, and it was a real cock-bursting fuck. And you wanna know something else Victoria? After I fucked her, I paid the bitch the 50 quid that she'd asked for. You see, that's me Victoria. That's what I'm about.'

Victoria, who'd now somehow become accustomed to the shock, rolled her eyes away from me and gazed over at the corner of the room, appearing to cogitate.

'That's what I'm all about Victoria.' I took another puff of my joint, and exhaled beautifully, poetically, cordially.

After a moment spent wiping the tears from her eyes with her wrist, Victoria nodded and gave a false smile.

'I ... I think I understand now Darren.'

Then, slowly turning around, she opened the front door and descended out of the apartment.

As I watched her shut the door behind her, I let my thoughts drift off to some place where the dolphins leaped up out of the water with rapturous sonnet-like whistles, and I sucked at the skunk, smiling and nodding leisurely.

'That is ... what I'm all about.'


novel   dirty  

Jul 26, 2018 in anal