Millie was doing the usual morning autopsy of the previous night’s antics. It was simple really: get the poor guy on a gossip slab and dissect him with chavtastic chatter for girlie enjoyment.
“Graham’s just … too … well, sexual.”
“Yeah, coz that’s the last thing ya want, innit.” Alice was a sarcastic bitch.
“You know what I mean. He’s too much.”
“How? How can a person be too sexual?”
“Well – he sorta studies it, I reckon. He must do – he knows everything about everything. Makes me a virgin by comparison. He’s probably into all that tantric stuff – all I ever wanna do is just enjoy it and let shit happen”.
“Can we not talk about shit and sex in the same conversation please? Unless, of course, that’s one of his things-”
“Oh frig OFF! Ewww!”
“So, go on – what was it this time? What put ya off?”
Millie tried to explain. “He was all intense, right? I couldn’t figure out if he was bein’ creepy or wha’. He looked like he was takin’ mental notes or something . Nothin’ spontaneous – rehearsed, almost.” She paused for breath and took a swig of 10AM Prosecco; it was never too early.
“He stood there, right, and just stripped – before we’d even kissed. He was just stood there in the buff, tackle out – hard as anythin’, an’ there it was, pointin’ right at me”.
“And this was a problem because?”
“It was just weird, that’s all. It was like he didn’t even wanna come close, but was happy to stay over there, getting’ on with it by himself.”
“You mean …”
“Yeah. He had a wank. Standing up. Asked me to lie on the bed, and – well, perform.”
“So did ya?”
“Well, yeah. He was all hypnotic and stuff, I just sorta did what he said.”
“And then what?”
“Well, he shot his load all over the floor. And you shoulda seen his FACE as it dripped – it was like he was on drugs”.
Alice tried to hide her what-the-fuck face. “Maybe he was, Millie. How d’ya know he wasn’t?”
She didn’t, so she took a long gulp of the fizzy shit before advising Alice that she had no frame of reference when it came to druggery: “I don’t know about any of that. I’m a good girl.”
Projectile booze from Alice’s gob interrupted the conversation. She dabbed at the soggy coffee table with an entire kitchen roll, too unarsed to unravel the thing.
“Good girl my arse. Hahahah!” She threw the damp wad of paper the bin’s way, and missed. She watched it as it floomped onto the floor with a heavy splat, and continued: “… so, Millz, there was one thing I was meaning to ask ya…”
“Is it true what they say about black fellas?”
“Fucksake. Why does EVERYONE think that? That’s SO out of order, that is. It’s really fuckin’ racist to assume that just because a person has black sk- ”
“Is it not true then?”
“Well, yeah. Totes.”
Laughter. Swigs. The opening of a second bottle.
“What happened next? After the – erm – dripping, I mean …”
“It wasn’t so much a drip as an explosion, really. Landed ten feet away. Nearly took me eye out.”
“I can see Smearly Now that Graham has come …” sang Alice.
“Very funny.” Millie wiped her left peeper with the memory of last night’s cumsplat. “Aaanyway …” she continued, “… after that, he came over, still as hard as my fuckin’ arm – and started the next round”
“Jeez – ya mean he wasn’t all floppy by then, like?”
“Ya reckon he’d taken a little purple pill then?”
“I dunno – I mean, is it even HUMAN to be in that condition for so long?”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time, you said it was long already.”
Alice sniggered at her own crap joke and stood up to pour another glass. “So, Millz, did you ever actually get to – well, did you actually get fucked?”
“I’m getting to that. Sit down – you’re gonna love this.”
“OK, when we finally got to – well, when we were about to … I mean we did, but we kinda didn’t.”
“He was THAT big that he was fully in me and there were still like six inches that weren’t.”
“Yeah – so it was almost like he wasn’t – because he was so fucking far away! I’m all about the closeness, me.”
“Ha! Jesus, girl. You’re fucking killing me here!” Alice spat the words out along with the cheap booze.
“Don’t be laughin’! What about poor little me! I’m startin’ to dry up over here! It’s been a whole WEEK – an entire bastard WEEK – and I still didn’t get any.”
“Well, ya DID … but maybe it just wasn’t how ya planned.”
“Ya got that right.”
If she’d been smarter, Millie might’ve entertained the notion that perhaps it’d been Schrodinger’s sex – where you simultaneously got some and didn’t. Being either fucked or unfucked, your true state was only revealed once the sheets were peeled back. But she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box – nah, fuck that – she wasn’t even IN the box.
Alice, fifteen years older, had had enough – it was time to piss off home anyway. As she gathered her crap up into her overnight bag, Millie thanked her for having babysat the previous night and told her “you SO fucking owe me a bottle, you do – spluttering that all over the place. Big waste.”
“Oh, shut it, you. Stop your whining. I get enough of that from your father,” said Alice, on her way out the door.
“All right, all right. See ya next Friday, Ma.”