F: first novel ch1-3

First novel ch 1-3-"Changing Trains in Motion" by D. G. Lennon-Chap
1-
'Three Guinness and a Lager please.'

What's that fucking wee cunt doing reaching his arm over the top? Fuck
off. Wish
they'd stop pushing at the back there. And I really wish he'd laugh a
bit quieter or not
at all; it's pissing me off.

'Pint or half?'

'What?'

'The lager, pint or half?'

'Pint, please.'

That fucking arm is up again-the wanker. Won't get you served any
quicker. Ah
Jesus, stop pushing at the back. That arm is pushing down on my
shoulder. Right,
enough is enough. Hands down on the bar arms by me sides, elbows
reaching out
back; that'll calm him down alright.

'Eight pounds ninety three please.'

'Here.'

Right, how am I going to do these? The difficulty's the Lager; it's the
wrong shape.
Right, Lager at the front with Guinesses: one by the Lager, two at the
back. My
thumbs aren't touching, bit of a slip to the right. Back down on the
bar, big effort
now: hup. Ok, going well-Christ! The fucking...fucker! Get your fucking
arm
down you...fucker. Don't say anything to him, don't say anything to
him, stay calm.

Now, back down on the bar, steady and up. Turn. Jesus Christ, nearly
went there; that
Lager's wobbling in the glass-I'll hold still here a bit.

A shout went up and then there's a laugh. It's that bastard again; for
fucks sake it's
not a competition. See who's got the loudest laugh, yeah right.

'Excuse me can I just squeeze past you there please?'

That wallpaper is really crap. See whenever you look through these
sample things
that they give you in the wallpaper place and you see these patterns
and you think "Oh
my God! Who in their right mind would buy that?" And the dado rail and
the dark
wood panels; some of us have to practically live in this pub, they
could make it a bit
more like home.

'Listen, can I just get past you there.'

'Mate! Guy behind. Wants to get through.'

'Ah Right. Sorry about that. Here, away you go'

They have County Derry accents. I wonder whereabouts they're from and
why they're
over here.

'Thanks lads'

I still think that fella's laugh is a bit over the top though. Come on
missus these are
starting to get a little too heavy and a little too mobile.

'Alright, here's one for you: how do you know that ET is a prod?'

They're obviously nationalists then. I haven't heard this one. Jesus
she's turned
around to talk to the bloody eegit with the glasses. Are you coming
through the
fucking door or are you just going to stand there until I drop
these.

'Go on-I don't know.'

'He looks like one.'

That raucous laugh again. That's not bad-I'll remember that one.

'Oh if I were ten years younger'

'Hahaha twenty more like!'

Would you ever just let the bloody woman get to the bar. And that is a
really shit
cardigan and you've got fat fingers and you look like you probably work
at a chemists
shop.

'Hey, careful, you're not so old as I can't still put you over my
knee.'

Ah come on, less of the mindless crap and more of the getting out of
the fecking way
for God's sake. Oh finally. Right, on we go then. Oh God that's
spilling out; ok
stand still for a bit. The lager is slipping, why can't they just put
all the pints in the
same shape of glass, it'd be so much easier.

Ding ding ding ding.

Last orders. Jesus look where you're going with the chair, nearly
barged straight into
me. This way, that way, this, th...

'Oh! We're dancing!'

Well, you might be.

'Here you can go past. Those look like they could go at any
minute.'

Whatever.

'Thanks, cheers.'

Ok, the way is clear. And these are going to go at any minute. Ok,
quick lunge
forward, bending down so that they've less far to fall and...down on
the table.
There's a bit of a spill from the Lager. I'm sweating.

Listen, we'll have a bit of a narrative break now that I've gotten
these back from the
bar. That way I can explain who everyone is in the guise of handing
them their drinks
and what I think of them and how the style of this book works: how to
read it and all
that sort of thing.
I'm MacDaragh and I'm from the north of Ireland and this
Guinness is for me. This one is for Rob. Rob Gilmour. He's from a town
called
Thirsk, it's in Yorkshire. He's alright is Rob, everyone gets on with
him, gets a bit
leary when he's had a few but for a few you'd have to read thirteen or
more. He can
really knock back the pints.

'Thanks MacDa'

I never know what's going on in his head and he doesn't say much. When
he says
things they're fairly ordinary things and there's not much originality
to it. If he has
any depths then they're well hidden. He's intelligent though-well we
all are, we've
all got degree's. He works hard too; he got a II (1).

Right that thing that just happened there, the narrative break, that
kind of thing
happens a lot in this book and you have to get used to it. It's a bit
like that film with
Michael Caine, what's it called? Alfie! That's it, Alfie. You know
those bits were the
main character suddenly turns away from the action and addresses the
camera directly
while all the other characters carry on oblivious to it. Sometimes
you'll get bits were
it's just like a normal book as well and it'll tell you things like...I
don't
know...describing the scene or describing what's happening or whatever
and that's
just the author's contribution to the book, these will be very limited.
Most of the time
though, you'll just flip in and out of individual narrators'
perspectives on things and
the action and psychology behind it will be deduced from their
thoughts. It's a bit
confusing but once you get a feel for the way the characters think
you'll be able to get
a feel for who you are at any one time.

A Lager for Sarah-she's from Yorkshire too but no accent. She just has
a posh accent
herself; she's Rob's girlfriend. Nice enough lass but a bit full on
like. If the centre of
attention is somewhere else for more than three minutes you can
guarantee that she'll
do or say something to pull it back round to her. You talk about stuff
that she's never
done and never even been involved in and like it'll be like nothing
she's ever had any
kind of experience of in her whole life and you can see her straining
at the bit. Like
she'll be sitting there and she won't have found anything useful or
relevant to add to
the conversation for a while and then suddenly she'll finally say
something like:
'That's a bit like when I did that thing where...' and it'll be nothing
that's really
related to what you've been talking about but it'll creep into the
conversation. Most
of the time you don't even notice that it's happening. And she hangs
round with the
lads all the time but she doesn't try to compromise between what we're
talking about
and what she wants to talk about (which is usually about herself)
she'll just drag the
conversation round to what she wants to talk about just so she doesn't
have to shut up
and let anyone else speak. Like I say though you don't notice this
about her it just
happens. And you'd fight a losing battle to stop it. And she has nice
tits so we're
interested in what she has to say.

Michael's from Leighton Buzzard which is were we're at now. His is a
Guinness.
Michael is just a cunt and I hate him. It's not because he's gay-he is
like but that's
not it. It's not because he's camp. He is that but that's not it. It's
not because he
thinks he's Oscar fecking Wilde so he does. He hasn't got the wit. It's
because he's
so fecking snide.

'I heard a joke on the way back from the bar: how do you know ET is a
scouser?'

'Dunno'

'Because...'

Ah fuck what was it?

-Chap 2-

A peculiar little dichotomy in many ways: the major tenet of the
aesthete philosophy
is that depth is to be avoided at all costs in subservience to that
which pleases the
senses. The means by which the earnest considerations of those more
soberly
disposed can be circumvented are predominantly the witticism, the
put-down and the
epithet. All of these require an agent provocateur of much
charisma.
Hmmm...now
where was I going with th-oh yes that's it: in order to achieve the
subversion of the
conversationally challenged this requires a high quality of witticism
from myself
which requires...hmmm...too many "requires" hmmm-ah yes necessitates
much
earnest consideration. I really ought to write this down before
I...

'You seem to be lost in thought'

'As would you be if thought were a place you visited as infrequently as
I do.'

I don't often get to do my benevolent smile for the viewing
public.
What a smug
fecking wanker, I can't be doing with him. And I mean lost in thought?
Lost up his
own arse more like.
One of my better ones but I do believe that was a roll of the
eyes
from MacDire-the green-eyed monster's ripe for stirring I think.
Although how he
can possibly have a problem with me and not with Rob I don't know since
I'm not the
one who's actually shagging the lady in question. Oh no wait a moment,
silly me I
remember now: it might be because I can do this with impunity :

'So what's happening in the world of Sarah today? Do tell.'

The smug wee fucker's got his head in her lap. I'll bet he puts that
queer shite on just
because he's never got anywhere with women. She's a fucking idiot
letting the slimy
creep do that.

'Oh you know...The usual'

'Ohh I say! Really?'

The two of them putting on daft voices and giggling like schoolgirls,
they bloody bore
me wi' that. Wish she'd get rid of him he gets on my bloody
nerves.

'Are you going on from here MacDa? I'll have a word wi' missus, she
might let me
stay out tonight'

'Ah no, I'm shot. I'll get on home from here'

'That new Latino place is opened up now.'

'Why where's that?'

'Round the corner. Eh, them Latino birds when they do that thing with
their hips in
them short skirts. Bloody lovely.'

'I'll have a think about it.'

'You're not doing ought tomorrow. And these two can try on their new
dresses at
his.'

'I'll think about it.'

I'm aware I'm playing up the straight talking Yorkshire man bit but it
gets to be force
o' habit. Especially when them two start all that queer shit.

'Lorraine!'

'Oh alright Sarah, didn't see you there Sarah'

'Hello Lorraine, how nice to see you again. Sarah and I were just
discussing men and
comparing notes, do you have anything to add?'

Oh God, she's got her fashion accessory faggot with her there's a
surprise.

'No I'm off men for now. I've er started writing a novel,
actually.'

I bet it's about vampires and how they're very much misunderstood and a
bit
vulnerable but still ready to ravish her at the drop of a hat but it's
got a twist in the
tale in that it's set in modern times and it details a vampires
exploits through
flashback and says a lot about the sexually repressed nature of the
terminally
unattractive female fantasist.

'Oh really, how simply divine. What is it about?'

'Well it's a kind of gothic novel.'

Oh right.

'A gothic novel?'

Well done Sarah dear, I was looking for a suitably eloquent way to ask
for the
inevitable myself.

'Well yes, what it is, right, it's this vampire from the sixteenth
century-I say sixteenth
century because in the sixteenth century, vampires were like...well you
know how
they show them in all these TV things?'

Oh dear lord! She thinks they really exist!

'What, you mean Buffy?'

'Oh God, I hate her. That's just the worst programme on...'

'How many pages have you written so far then?'

'Well I've only just started so I'm still on the first chapter. What's
going to happen
is...'

Ahhh finally.

'...The remains of this Sixteenth century European Nobleman are
transported to a
sleepy little village in North Wales and things start to happen. So
anyway this
journalist starts to investigate and she...'

'I'm sure it will be very good when it's finished.'

I'm sure it will be an abomination in the sight of God when it's
finished.

Patronising
bastard who does he think he is?

'Well I don't know if I'll ever actually finish it...'

'Well it's worth having a go isn't it? I mean you have to put the work
in though.'

'yes I suppose...well as old Vidal Sassoon once said: "The only place
where success
comes before work is in a dictionary."'

Quotations, bloody quotations, they're the sincerest form of
arse-licking. Anyone can
be quotable when they spend weeks waiting for the right opportunity to
come out with
a spontaneous witticism. I've come up with so many really genuinely
funny one-
liners over the years-so much better than that one-I've said them at
the right times and
people have laughed out loud-not just a wry smile: out loud! And no one
ever quotes
me! And just because he's well known Vidal Sassoon can say a mediocre
line and
people quote him as if it's the greatest, most piquant, most amusing
comment they've
ever heard.

Got him tied up: his wrists cuffed to his ankles, blindfolded and
gagged. I don't say a
word throughout. So then I whip him-Muffled screams, rip his finger
nails out one-at-
a-time while I'm fucking him, give it to him good. Pull out after I've
finished. Those
pleading eyes. Look him in the eyes and laugh a silent laugh so he
feels the full
hopelessness of his plight. Take out a coke bottle and insert it. Smash
it from the
inside...Nearly closing time. Need to lose the stiffy. Think of
something else.

'I reckon I might be on for that, Rob.'

'Eeeyyy! He's a boy!'

'On for what?'

'Me and MacDa are going clubbing.'

'No you're bloody not. Anyway, where would..? Not Chico's? '

'Why? What's up with Chico's? I've never been there.'

'Oh yeah, all the little sixth formers with nearly nothing on?'

'Hey MacDa, this sounds promising. Anyway, how do you know? You've
never
been there?'

'Seen them standing outside. Anyway you said you'd give me a lift
tomorrow
morning!'

'Well I will.'

'What at half seven'

'Yeah, half seven'

'Listen, Sarah, he'll be fine, I'll make sure he doesn't pull anyone
nicer than yourself,
alright?'

'You won't be fit to drive at that time'

'I'll be fine to drive-MacDa'll make sure I don't drink too
much.'

'Well when you get back don't do what you did on Saturday night-have
you heard
what he did?'

'They don't want to hear that.'

'What did he do?'

'I woke up in the morning and he's lying on his back snoring really
loudly. So I think
"I'll bring him a nice cup tea". So I went to get out of bed
and...'

'Ah! Now, Can I just stop you there?'

'OK.'

'Great!'
Silence.

'Jesus how did that bastard pull her?'

'Don't know mate.'

'Fucking bastard!'

Jesus I'd have any of those three.

'Hey I'd have any of those three lasses over there.'

'Yeah go for it.'

Fucking hell, all this again. Walk over; pretend I'm just dancing near
them. Oh shit
they're closing ranks. No-one saw it. Right, what now! Maybe she just
wants me to
get hold of her waist and dance behind her. Right grab her
waist...she's ok with it.
Shit! She's not. What's he think he's staring at. Turn round, think. Is
she just
playing hard to get? Turn round. Right hands on her hips. Move in.
She's pulling
away. Ok, stay a bit back from her, see if she's ok with just my hands
on her hips,
take it from there. Shit, she's not. Try the blonde. Not looking
hopeful-fucking
glaring at me. Songs over.

'No luck then?'

'No, none.'

'Oh well.'

'Frigid fucking bitches!'

'Well, at least you tried mate, least you tried.'

'Much good it ever fecking does me!'

'Oh well.'

'Jesus Christ! That Fucker just walks over and grabs her and she's up
and down on
him like a...'

Don't say "Yo-yo"

'Women, eh?'

'Yeah.'

Don't give up too easily. I suppose that girl's alright. Wait 'til the
next song.

'Drink?'

'Yeah mate, I'll have another of these.'

Those four at the bar are alright-I'll give them a go.

'Hi girls'

'No, we're all lesbians'

'Well like...Me too! Don't let the deep voice and goatie fool you,
that's just a
hormone imbalance.'

'We weren't doing.'

'Are you from London, hey?

'No, goodbye.'

Fucking bitches. Story of my fucking life. The biggest problem is:
Where am I going
to do it? And how am I going to get him there.

'There you are.'

'Thanks MacD'

Now, where is she? Shit she's leaving!

'You like this place?'

'Aye, it's grand.'

No it's shit.

'What do you reck to her?'

'Not bad'

Out of my league. Then again, what the hell's ever in my league and is
it even
human? MacDa just hasn't got it when it comes to women. Looking like
that doesn't
help either. He just hasn't got it-someone ought to tell him what he's
doing wrong.

'Why do they always go for just about anyone else and not me?'

'One of those things, mate.'

'Yeah.'

One of what things? What's going on? Me and Sarah-getting on fine,
waiting for the
right moment to ask her out...Rob, didn't say a word to her most of
that night, next
thing I turn around and they're snogging away. I wouldn't mind but he's
not even got
any personality. Last woman I've had was nearly a year ago and that
only lasted half a
night. Fucking bitches.

Right, looks like he's out. Good. So na?ve. Does he think I don't know
where he gets
her to leave the key out for him? This all looks oddly familiar. God
almighty,
someone just walked over my grave! The main bedroom. Doesn't she look
peaceful?
Wonder how she'd look with a bag over her head and some nails driven
through it.
Time to deliver the note.

'Rob you didn't set the alarm.'

'Wha-huh?

'When you got back from the club.'
Club?

'Club?'

'Chico's.'

Chico's? Did I go to Chico's?

'Oh right. What about it?'

'You didn't set the alarm.'

Alarm?

'For what?'

'You said you'd give me a lift.'

I said I'd give her a lift?

'Shit! Sorry.'

While me birds going on in me ear I'll just tell you that I used to be
able to do all day
sessions knocking back the pints-well into double figures and get up
early the next
morning and remember everything. Whenever I get wasted these days I can
lose
whole nights. People tell me what I've done the next day and I really
don't want to
know-it's almost always embarrassing and out of character. If everyone
got as pissed
as I do on a night out, the world'd be a much better place. The point
is: If I go out and
get wasted, the next day it's like the night before hasn't happened and
I have to piece
it together from what people are saying to me, but she knows what I'm
like and she
should have set the bloody alarm herself.

'What's that?'

'Me pillow.'

'No, what's that under the pillow?'
'It's...It's a letter.'

What's she written this for?

'Well where did you get it?'

Where did I get it?

'Let's have a look at it...Oh!'

-Chap 3-

'I can't have brought it in with me from the club, I'd have noticed I
had it if I'd had it
at the club.'

'Rob, Tell me you got it at the club.'

'I don't know where I got it.'

If I didn't get it at the club then that must mean that
someone has broke into our house while we were there!

'Maybe I did get it at the
club. I'd had a skinful I can't remember. It was either there or on the
way home.'

It must be....It must be him. It must be. How's he got into our
house?

'Well who's written it, who did you meet? It says "Malin" at the end,
is that his
name? Do you know anyone called Malin? Think back.'

'I don't know, probably one of the lads. Probably just a sick
joke.'

'It's not funny!'

This isn't a sick joke. Although, I wouldn't put it past them.

I don't know why he
keeps playing for that team. They're all just a bunch of giggling
schoolchildren
pretending to be men. This is sick, what kind of mind could think of
something like
that?

'Call the police.'

'What?'

'Call the police.'

'I told you, it's probably just t'lads.'

Snooker loopy, nuts are we. Me and him and him and me. What was the
next bit?
We'll... Something...We'll show you what we can do...With a couple of
balls and a
snooker cue! That's it! We'll show you what we can do with a couple of
balls and a
snooker cue. Oh! That's a bit rude! We'll show you what we can do with
a couple of
balls and a snooker cue. Wonder if they meant it to be a bit rude...I
bet that's what it
was. Snooker loopy nuts are we. Me and him and him and me. We'll show
you...Oh
God! Why can't I get that bloody song out of my head. We'll show you
what we can
do with a load of balls and a...Aha! That's it! It's not a couple of
balls and a snooker
cue, it's actually a load of balls. So it's not rude after all. Hang
on, how's that not
rude? A load of balls...Hmmmm. Snooker loopy nuts are we....Me
and...God! I'm
glad no-one can read my mind right now they'd think I was weird. Maybe
I am
weird. While my lights are on and no-one's home I'll do a quick piece
to camera.
This kind of thing happens to me a lot where I go off on one 'cos I'm
thinking of one
of those really catchy songs that I don't even like but I can't get rid
of. Like anyone
else, I think I'm the only person in the world that this happens to and
I feel a bit
embarrassed for thinking like this because in these bits to camera, the
characters that
we are are suddenly aware that there's all these people eavesdropping
on our intimate
thoughts 'cos we're suddenly addressing the audience directly. I can't
believe that
this bit got into the book though that's really awful! I mean imagine
how mortified
you'd feel if someone caught you while you having one of these moments!
I
mean...Deep down you know full well that everyone else has these things
happen
from time to time but knowing that doesn't help. I mean 'Snooker loopy'
for God's
sake! How uncool is that? I suppose it's worse with your darkest sexual
fantasies
when you're having one that's really disgusting but you feel all tingly
about it but you
think it's a bit nasty and you feel dead ashamed of yourself for having
that as one of
your desires but you can't help wanting it and if anyone ever asks you
what your
biggest fantasy is you tell them something dead ordinary because you
know that
you're biggest fantasy is something that's just not normal and besides
you wouldn't
want to actually do it anyway. Maybe I'm not normal. Some things are
best just
fantasised about-if you did them in real life they wouldn't be nice and
they'd just hurt.
Mind you there's a bloke in this book who's got this really warped
fantasy and next to
that I suppose anyone's darkest desires are normal! Anyway you'll read
about that as
the book goes on. I hope the author doesn't let you eavesdrop on my
fantasies...or
any of the others, that'd be really really awful! It's like when
someone has gone
through your handbag when you haven't said they could, and on this
occasion there's
nothing embarrassing in there but you know that it could easily have
been different
another time, even though you know that everyone knows what personal
items you
might be carrying and that everyone else carries these things in their
handbags but it
doesn't help. Wish I was a bloke I bet they don't have all these things
going on in
their heads. And anyway...

'Penny for them'

'Oh I was just thinking about that note.'

I know I wasn't but who cares. I hate it when you're in a daydream and
you're
thinking of something really stupid and someone asks you what you're
thinking about
and you cant' say what you're really thinking about and there's
something that you
should be thinking about but you're not and you feel dead guilty about
it but...

'I told you it's probably just the lads...Don't worry about it.'

'Well find out who it is and have a word with them 'cos that's not on,
that.'

'Alright I'll have a word with them.'

Like I can do that! The note's fucking sick! If the lads read that and
it turns out it
weren't them I'd be...Just don't even think about it. Fucking worrying
though. I
hope it is just them-they've overstepped the mark this time though.
Fucking worrying
for her. Better just play it down and she'll be alright in a bit. She's
looking really
deep in thought about it-how can I take her mind off it.
Snooker loopy nuts are we.
Me and him and him and-Oh! Urrrrrrr! Bloody song!
This thing must be really
getting to her I've not seen her like this before.

'How come you're not out shopping with Michael today?'

'Oh...Mmm...Got no money.'

'Oh...right.'

Think of something else, she's not having any more money.

Snooker loopy, nuts
are...

'We staying in tonight?'

Sigh.

'Got to go over to Lorraine's. Told you about it on Wednesday.'

Fuck! Bollocks! Shit! Could do without that. Bollocks!

'Oh yeah, course. That'll be nice.'

Liar! He'll be more bored than me! All her bloody Goth mates! That
Lucy!

'Yeah...Lucy and Steve will be there. You remember Lucy and
Steve.'

Wankers.

'Oh yeah, how are they getting on?'
'They're buying a house now.'

Fucking boring tossers.

'Oh...right...hope they find somewhere nice.'

Liar! He hates them. I hope they get somewhere really awful. Oh I hope
this do isn't
too boring.

'Yeah. I hope so too.'

She has got some really arsey mates.

We'll show you what we can...Urrrrrrrr! For
God's sake think of something else. I know: hold a chicken in the air,
stick a
deckchair up your nose...
God, this thing's really getting to her!

There are no two ways about it. I'll have to torture him. This much is
clear. Why
though? These things just have to happen, I don't make the rules. It
has to be cold,
calm, callous and sexually deviant. Above all it has to be slow. These
things are just
meant to happen. Disposal? Method of disposal? Tricky. There is a
higher
purpose to this, higher than reason. I wish I knew what it was.

Mmmmmmm mmm. They must be about seventeen. Nice tanned legs,
school
uniforms. Me being hunted down by a pack of them...And caught...And
held
down...And...Stop that! All right so it's another piece to camera, is
it? You
shouldn't eavesdrop on people's darkest sexual fantasies; you know
that, you've been
told already in this book. No doubt you were about to accuse me of
faking it. You
were about to say: "I knew it". You were about to say: "He's not a real
puff, it's just
a cop out." Or perhaps something patronising like "Oooh maybe he's
confused about
his sexuality." Utter crap! Ok, so I would be vilified by some of the
more extreme
members of the gay community for this. Simple, I just don't' tell them.
I see it this
way: if a gay man has a sexual fantasy about a girl or girls plural, he
can. He can
even go with it-give it a try. Society already frowns on him. Many
people will tell
me in public that they don't but in private they'll say something
entirely different.
The bottom line...yes, ha ha, "bottom"-laugh, get it out of your
system. Grow up!
The bottom line is: even if I do get confused about my sexuality,
society has already
judged and ostracised me and I've been strong enough to say "This is
what I am, this
is my life, I'll do this whether you approve or not"-if I get confused
about my
sexuality I might have got it wrong up until that point and have it
right afterwards. Or
I might just be acting on a fantasy. Either way, if I'm already shunned
by people then
they can't shun me any more for fantasising about a girl or going out
with a girl than
they would for being gay. But the only people whose opinions I really
care about in
this are the gay community and if I did all that stuff and they found
out and if it was
just a fantasy then I'd be shunned by the people that matter the most
to me. Then
again, if I had started out as a straight man and acted on a gay
fantasy and then
realised I wasn't gay and reverted to being straight then people would
continue to
suspect me for the rest of my life and assume I was just putting on an
act of being
straight because I wasn't comfortable about my sexuality. But if it
turned out that the
straight part of my life had been an act and that being gay was my true
calling in life
then the gay community would welcome me with open arms. So a straight
man has
more to lose by admitting to or acting on a gay fantasy than a gay man
has to lose by
acting on a straight fantasy. So there you have it I'm just having a
fantasy that's all.
It's like Sarah, bless her, said earlier: some things are best just
fantasised about. The
poor dear really ought to work on her grammar I feel. Anyway, back to
the matter in
hand: Yes I admit I'm ashamed of it, Yes it used to cause me confusion
that I could
think this way but No it doesn't mean I'm straight but pretending to be
gay and No I
probably wouldn't-if the unlikely event of schoolgirls hunting grown
men and forcing
them to agree to participate in deviant sex ever actually happened in
real life- enjoy it.
For one thing, I always play the dominant role in my sex life and for
another it's just
that I like the costume. The genders of the people wearing them doesn't
matter a
damn. They could, for all I care be seventeen-year-old boys in short
skirts
and...Hmmm...I think on that note I'll flip back into my
fantasising...With renewed
vigour-I wouldn't want to miss this. Ten of them all wearing...

'You're lost in thought again'

Oh...Arse!

'Ye-es...Perhaps I ought to get out more.'

Lame, lame, lame, lame. If only I'd spent that time preparing a witty
riposte.

'I notice that you have been very quiet today also. Anything the matter
with you and
that gorilla of a boyfriend of yours?'

'He's not a gorilla.'

'Yes...Well as long as he's a tiger between the sheets good luck to
you.'

'There is...Something though. Something that must have happened during
the
night.'

'Ooooooh Matron!'

'Haha...No...nothing like that...'

'Well perhaps you ought to find yourself a man who can, know what I
mean, dear?'

He's starting to annoy me. This isn't the time for smutty jokes.
She seems very
serious today...there's something the matter.

'What's wrong? Anything I can help with.'

'I'm not sure I can tell you.'

'You can tell me-I'm the very soul of discretion.'

Yeah right! He's such a liar. Change the subject. What to though? We'll
show you
what we can do with a couple...No, load...Of b...Oh God! Is this going
to keep
happening all day?
There is something the matter perhaps I ought to try harder.
'Look, if you really need to talk I promise it will go no
further.'
I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit him.

'Alright, I'm a bit worried. I found a note under Rob's pillow this
morning. No, it's
not like that! It was a threatening letter.'

He's cute. Bet he's straight though. Try not to make it too obvious.
What did she just
say?

'A threatening letter?'

'Yes...I can't really tell you what it says 'cos Rob would go mad if he
knew I'd said
anything.'

Bit of eye contact...Seems the shy type. The hunt is on.

'Have you called the police in?'

That's it, yes that's it look over this way again...yes I am still
staring at you.

'No Rob won't let me. Whoever it was must have got into our house
though!'

Hmmm...That's not too promising. What did she just say?

'What??'

'I know'

'Well...how?'

I think he is straight.

'I don't know.'

'Sarah listen to me now. You have to call the police. Rob is just being
stupid and
acting all macho.'

'I know but the note was for him not me.'

He is straight.

'Call them anyway. Tell them you don't want Rob to know that you called
them.'

'He can be such an idiot some times. I mean he really is an
idiot.'

'Pity...Nice arse though.'

'What? Rob?'

I didn't say that out loud, did I?.

So far, so good. All very enjoyable. Lacks that one vital ingredient;
that spice. How
am I going to work an element of spanking into this?

'...And then I said...Hey! You're not listening to me.'

'If I were it would interfere with my walking around in a dazed,
disinterested semi-
coma.'

'Why are you walking around in a dazed disinf..? I can't even say it
now. Why are
you walking around in a dazed, disinterested semi-coma?'

'To see where that gets me.'

'And where has it got you?'

'Where I am today.'

'Oh.'

Sigh.