Tag Archives: sex

With Love – Part Two

We were stopped by two police officers about forty miles from the Mexican border just past Deming. We picked them up as we were leaving the town.


I knew I’d made her angry so we’d stopped in Deming to get something to eat. Biscuits and gravy. I grabbed a handful of the money from the bag and stuffed it in my pocket. I just looked around for cops the whole time. She just sat talking and laughing and eating. I hadn’t seen her that happy before. People were looking at us in the restaurant. In your head you tell yourself that it’s because they heard about what you did on the radio and they know you did it. But we were dressed like ‘city folk’ in a country town. And she was bouncing off the walls. And I was starin’ out every face, jumping every time the door opened. We stood out like a couple of Jews in a Mosque.

“Do you think we’re gonna make it to Mexico?” she asked.

“Probably” I said. I was sure we wouldn’t. Even if we could get there I knew we wouldn’t get there.

“I don’t. I think we’re gonna die.” She smiled this big goofy smile and kept chewing on her food. I started laughing.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She stopped smiling.

“Then why’d you lie?”

“Cause I thought you wanted me to.”

She kissed her fingers and reached out and pressed them against my lips. I closed my eyes. I could taste the gravy. It tasted really good. I was really hungry but far too wired to eat anything.

“You got your gun?” she asked me, looking over those heart-shaped glasses, swallowing a big mouthful of biscuit.

I looked around to see if anyone heard her. She was so loud.

“Yeah. Of course.” I whispered.

“Give it to me” she said, smiling at me.

“Why?” I asked, still whispering.

She took off her glasses, folded them and sat the down on the table.

“I’m gonna kill someone, that’s why.”

I looked into those eyes of hers. I could still see the young, broken girl I fell in love with a few weeks ago, but she was disappearing faster than our chances. When she stared down the barrel of that gun in my pants and pulled the trigger on her daddy, that little girl in her died without a corpse. She was someone I didn’t think I’d ever know. She was so beautiful.

“Sugar,” I leaned in, trying to throw a blanket over our conversation, “these people ain’t done nuthin.”

“You’re right.” She sat back, her smile disappeared. She looked down at her plate, all sad.

“Look, I don’t wanna kill nobody,” I took her hands in mine, “but, if you wanna rob the place, then I’m happy with that. You know, for kicks.”

She looked up and smiled.

“Really?! Like Pulp Fiction?”

“Like Pulp Fiction.” I smiled, rubbing her hands. “But no killing nobody. Not unless you have to.”

She looked at me from across the table. She blew me a kiss. I watched her shoulder dip under the table. I felt her hand slide up my leg. She moved her hand over my dick and started rubbing. I closed my eyes. In one move I felt the gun come right out of my pants.

“Everybody be cool this is a robbery!!!” she shouted, her chair sliding back across the diner floor. I smiled at her as I rose to my feet. At that moment, I’d never loved anyone so much.

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With Love – Part One

Twenty dollar bills hotter than the smoking gun in the back covered our tracks all the way to the border. We both laughed when she said that we’d lost more than we’d won. The bag in the back lay open and all those dead Presidents stared up at the sky as we laughed under the setting sun, knowing that tomorrow we’d both be dead and none of this would mean anything.


“I keep thinking I can hear the police” I said, turning the music down and looking in the rear view mirror. I saw some of that money floating out. All they had to do was follow the money.

“You’re just hearing things” she said. She looked in the mirror too. She was putting on lipstick. But I knew that she was looking for the cops. She pouted at herself and took a big swig from the bottle of tequila we brought for the ride. “You want some?”

“Nah” I said, looking back into the mirror. I could feel it burning holes in my stomach. “Can you zip that bag up sugar? I hate thinking we spilt a lotta blood for the sake of throwing money out the back of the car.”

She looked at me, and smiled. I couldn’t see her eyes behind those big heart-shaped sunglasses she always wore. She pulled them down the bridge of her little nose and smiled.

“Honey, we both know we aint spending that money on anything but the pleasure of watching it float away.”

“That’s true.”

“So I aint closing shit.” She lit a cigarette and put her feet up on the dash. I looked back into the mirror. I couldn’t hear anything but the wind and our engine and Iggy Pop. We both just listened.

“I’m hungry. Can we stop in somewhere?”

“Where the fuck we gonna get something to eat round here?” I snapped at her, looking around at the big orange rocks that were all around us. There hadn’t been a sign of life for an hour by that point. The trees had slowly changed into cactus and the eagles into vultures. I thought about trying to shoot one. You know, to keep the buzz going. But I just drank more. “There’s nothing around here but roadkill. And that’s probably all burnt up from his fucking horrible sun. If I was going to eat roadkill I’d at least want it rare!”

“All right, chill baby! Fucking hell.” She looked into the mirror again and pouted. She rubbed her stomach. “Ugh. I’m starving. You know what I could eat right now?” she asked, springing to life and throwing that bottle into her face again.

“What?” I said, still looking at the road in front of us.

“Gravy and biscuits. From The Watermelon.”

“Yeah. Those are good.”

I looked back to the mirror. I didn’t know why.

We both sat in silence for a moment. I couldn’t hear the sirens in my head anymore. I couldn’t hear Iggy screeching. I could only hear the wind. I wondered if either of us would ever get to eat gravy and biscuits at The Watermelon again. I looked over at her. She was moving my Zippo around in her hands. I had no idea what she was thinking about.

“We should have taken stuff from daddy’s.”

“I think we took enough.”

“Fuck that! He owed me. That motherfucker.” She slammed her hand on the dashboard. I jumped a little. The car swerved over the lines in the road that were fast disappearing behind us. “I’m still hungry.”

I looked back into the mirror. I watched the twenties float out over the back seat. He didn’t owe me anything. But I couldn’t help but feel that I owed him a lot.

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Little Switch

Sometimes I get sad for no reason. Well, not no reason. There’s always a reason. But sometimes there isn’t a particularly good one. It’s like a little switch. The kind of switch that people don’t realize exits and they lean on it by accident. Someone lent on my switch last night.

It was a Saturday night. I usually go out drinking with my friend Jordan on Saturday night. I don’t usually need any encouragement to go out. And last night was no different. We went to a place called Sam’s, a little funky bar that plays old records and smells damp. I like it there. The drinks are cheap and it’s usually empty when we go there. I like it when Jordan and I have a place to ourselves. We don’t have to worry about other people being there, do you know what I mean? Anyway, I like Sam’s because we can request the songs. Jordan likes modern music though, hip hop mostly. I like anything that’s stood the test of time. I requested “In Zaire” by Johnny Wakelin. We always start with that song. That’s one we both enjoy. We ate the little peanuts and drank our almost cold beer for an hour or so. We chatted back and forth about football, music, people we knew, but not women. Jordan and I don’t really speak about women in that way. We never have.

“Where should we go next?” he asked me, sliding the last of the peanuts into his hand and throwing them into his mouth. He washed them down with the last of his beer.

“I dunno man. It’s too early to dance and I don’t think I’m fucked enough to do it yet anyway. Shall we go to the park and have a couple?” I said, gently tugging at the label on the bottle. I like to peel it off perfectly without a trace.

“Sound. That’ll do” he replied as he slid his arms into his coat and went to pay the bill. We like to treat each other sometimes.

As we were walking to the park, I got a call from Scott. We chatted for a minute or so.

“Do you mind if I join you guys?” he asked.

“Sure man, it’d be great to see you” I replied.

We talked details and I told him where to go and where we would be. I liked Scott. He was more my friend than Jordan’s, but he liked him too. Scott was one of those guys who likes to talk about women. He’s good with women. But he’s better at talking about them. He’s not like a slime ball or anything, or even very misogynistic. He just likes to talk about women. Perhaps it’s an appreciation thing.

We had arranged to meet him in a busy bar we knew around the corner from the park. I sort of wanted to go there to look at women. Jordan didn’t really care so much. He just wanted to chat to people. I just wanted to look. I’m not like a pervert or anything, I just like to look. It is an appreciation thing. I think some women are beautiful. I hadn’t had sex in about six months, but I didn’t really talk about it much. I tried to convince myself that if I really wanted to end that long patch of involuntary celibacy, I could. There’s always someone out there who thinks you’re something. But it was like I didn’t want to sometimes. I wanted to keep going, torturing myself by making a big deal out of it in my own head. Sort waiting there in the rain for a single person. I would try to make women fall in love with my eyes and never hear my voice. I would try to make them come to me but I would defend myself with conversation not hers. I would feel like someone loved me for the night and in the morning I would think about it and get a little sad. Not too sad. I knew that the same thing would happen all over again somewhere else with someone else. I would get a little happy, and then a little sad. My life seemed to keep in that balance.


We arrived at the bar and Scott was waiting for us with a table. I didn’t know how he managed to get one. The bar was full of people. Young people. All having fun and drinking heavily. It was an Irish themed bar with lots of Irish themed people. We sat down and did the catch up chat. We hadn’t seen each other in a month or so. He had been working hard and dating a couple of girls. He said he was playing them off against each other. I smiled and called him a ‘bastard’. I did it in that way where he thought I was teasing him. Jordan laughed, but I couldn’t tell he didn’t really laugh. We got to chatting and it seemed like every conversation somehow got steered towards sex. I would try and wrestle his hands off the wheel and points us back to where I wanted to go, but he was stronger than me. He could talk really well.

“Dude, there is so much pussy in here tonight” he whispered to me. I smiled again and nodded. I hated that word. Just the way it sounds. I don’t mind it if you’re talking about a cat, or someone being weak. But I never say it. I don’t have a word for that.

“I’m gonna go to the bar and get us some shots. I might be gone a while” he said with a wink. He wandered up to a blonde haired girl who was on the verge of being really drunk, and started making her laugh.

I looked around the bar at all of the people. It was getting late and everyone was starting to loosen up. Sitting at the corner table was a girl. She was surrounded by friends, but none looked to be anything more than that to her. She was beautiful. Not like head turning or anything. But beautiful. You know sometimes when you can tell someone’s a beautiful person just by the way they dress and hold themselves and laugh and smile. She was like that. You knew that she was a beautiful person. I started to look over to her between sentences. Jordan and I were left to chatting, mostly about Scott and how we both felt he was becoming a bit of a dickhead. But I wasn’t really thinking about what we were talking about. I was thinking about what I would talk to her about. How would I start talking to her? Where would I start talking to her? What compliment would I give first? But all of this was pointless. I knew I wouldn’t say anything.

She caught me looking at her. She smiled at me. It was only for me. I smiled only for her. I think we both knew that we wouldn’t give that smile to anyone else that night. She started pretending to be interested in what her friends were talking about, but every now and again she would slide her long hair away from her big round eyes and look towards me. I wanted to look at her all night, in case I missed her glance.

“Jager Bombs boys! Let’s do it!” I heard from behind me. Scott sat down with the three glasses and slapped me on the back. He sat down opposite me. “That hot blonde chick at the bar, I got her fucking number man. I’m gonna go and chat to her later” he said with a big smile. He slid the glasses in front of us.

“Thanks man.” Jordan said, readying his shot glass. I picked mine up and wondered if it wouldn’t make me too drunk. We drank the Jager bombs and got back to our beers. I looked back to the girl. She looked over and subtly raised her glass. I did the same. Scott caught me. He turned around to see who I was looking at.

“Nice man! She’s fuckin’ hot! Why don’t you go over there and talk to her?”

And that was it. That was the flick of the switch. My color started to wash away. Nobody felt it but me. I think she knew though. When she looked over at me, the smile was gone. The eyes were still there, but that ambitious smile had gone. I knew that nothing in the world could make me talk to her. I went to the bathroom and cried. I did it quietly and washed my face before coming back out to the bar. I didn’t want anyone to know. When I came back, her table was empty.

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Clive’s Balls – Part Two

Sat in the corner of the bar, quietly drinking a Vodka and slimline tonic, Clive scanned the bar for potential test pilots for his Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. He was nervous that someone should see him dropping the fluid into someone else’s glass. He had enough problems in his life without worrying about a sexual assault trial. A beautiful blonde girl came and sat at the table next to Clive’s. She looked as though she was waiting for someone. She gave a quick glance at the hefty young man sat next to her.

“Do you know where the toilets are?” she asked him with a smile. Clive pointed to the door on the other side of the bar. He could see his finger trembling like jelly.

“Thanks” she said, standing up and walking towards the door.

He fumbled around in his pocket for the small bottle. His sausage fingers wrapped around it and sat it on the table in front of him.

Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5
Testicle Extraction Medicine
To be ingested by sexual partner two hours prior to intercourse
Prescribed by Dr. Marcus Phillis

He looked at it for a second, bit his lip and unscrewed the dropper. ‘Two small drops should do the trick Clivey boy’ he heard Dr. Phillis say.


Clive awoke the following morning six kilograms lighter. He was delighted with the success of Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5. He’d had to leave the blonde girl’s flat early in morning in case she thought that someone had had sex with her against her will. But she had wanted it, he told himself, all I did was help her realize it. He had looked at her as she slept naked in the morning. She had developed a gut and a double chin over night. Clive tried not to let this guilt get in the way of his happiness. He was going to be thin again! And the road to success would involve a lot of sex with beautiful, slim women! Fantastic!

The next few months of Clive’s life were a lot of fun. He had been having a lot of sex with a lot of beautiful women and hadn’t felt in the least bit bad about it. He saw it as essential to survival. Dr. Phillis had warned him that he needed to drain himself regularly lest he explode. Every woman that he fornicated with was left heavier than before and Clive was always left thinner. He would go for weekly check-ups with the doctor and he confirmed that Clive’s testicles were getting closer and closer to their original location.

Six months passed and Clive had almost returned to normal. He had a little podgy fat around his hips and his breasts drooped south slightly. He was delighted with his progress and estimated that he needed to have sex one more time to return to his original shape. It was a Friday night and he had managed to squeeze himself into his old clothes, ready for a night out on the town. He had decided that he would go out without his trusty Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5 and see if he could have sex with a thin, beautiful woman without it.

He looked around all night, desperate to find a woman to pass the last of his heft onto. He spotted two of the women he had slept with before and noted their weight gain. How disgusting, he thought. Clive recognized them perfectly, but they had no recollection of him. He quickly went to the toilet for a pee. He checked the space between his legs for any sign of his testicles. Hurrah! There were two slight lumps at the base of his penis. He prodded them with his finger and felt that familiar sensation zip through his body. He rushed back to his table in the corner of the bar.

He quickly finished his drink and sat back in his chair, ‘scouting for totty’, as Dr. Phillis put it. He saw the same big old fatties rolling and bumping around the bar. None of these will do, he thought. Suddenly, a gorgeous brunette with olive skin and beaming, soft eyes sat down next to him.

“Hello” she said with a smile.

Clive was confused. He hadn’t used any Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5, so why was she talking to him?  Could it be possible that he was finally sexy?

They chatted back and forth and got along famously. They decided to go home together.


Clive woke the follwing morning, confused by his surroundings. Where was he? Someone lay asleep next to him. He vaguely remembered the night before. How much had he drunk? He got up and walked through to the toilet. He had a quick pee and inspected the space between his legs. There was nothing there!? His testicles had retracted again!

“No!” shouted Clive, he was so confused. He looked up at his naked body in the mirror. “No!?” Clive shouted again. He was at least six kilograms heavier! His soft hip padding was now a love cushion and his breasts had dropped further south.

He rushed back in the bedroom and saw that the girl lying on the bed was enormous! She had huge flaps of meaty white skin hanging from her arms and her blue veiny legs were spread across the mattress. But she didn’t have any breasts, just a flat piece of skin where they should be. He was so confused. Clive started to gather his now ill-fitting clothes together. He needed to get home and think this over. Just as he was about to leave the flat, he spotted something that made him stop in his tracks.

Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 6
Breast Extraction Medicine
To be ingested by sexual partner two hours prior to intercourse
Prescribed by Dr. Marcus Phillis


By Felicity Granger, 17, Basingstoke

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Clive’s Balls – Part One

Clive awoke in a ditch, looking up to the stars twinkling in the night’s sky. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the wheel of his bike still spinning hopefully next to his head. He tried to stand up but immediately felt a pain in his right wrist, like a thin bolt of electricity shooting from his hand and to his shoulder. He eased himself up with his left arm and suddenly noticed a difference in his groin. There was no pain, just an absence. He looked over both shoulders, making sure that he was alone on the dark country road, and peered into his tracksuit bottoms. The light from the quarter moon hovering in the sky did little to brighten the murky depth between his legs. Everything seems okay, he thought.

Clive awoke the following morning and the pain in his wrist had eased. He breathed a sigh of relief and got up to walked to the bathroom. He started this day like he did all others; with a simple pee. He looked down at his penis in his hand. Something didn’t seem right. That sense of absence was now more than a feeling. He could see it. Suddenly all of the air rushed from his body at once. His testicles!? They were gone! No balls, and no bag to contain them. They had disappeared. But there was no evidence of them being removed or any path of migration. Clive was terrified. He looked up from his crotch and caught his reflection in the mirror. His once muscular frame had melted a bit. He was fat! Not obese, but certainly on the road to being so. Clive couldn’t understand what had happened. The accident from the night before hadn’t left much in the way of physical damage, just a limp wrist he was sure would heal and his lost testicles would soon return to their original hiding place. But the sudden injection of fat had aroused plenty of suspicion in him. Overnight he had gone from being a muscular young man to a fattening young man. He was too confused to think it over and decided to go back to bed in the hope that this unwelcomed change in physique would right itself by the time he woke again.

But it didn’t.

After a week of hoping he gave up. In this time Clive had even returned to the ditch in a desperate search for a discarded pair of testicles. He would have even been satisfied to find someone else’s. But there was nothing testicle-esque to be found. He continued to gain weight and was now far too big for his clothes. He decided that it was time to see a doctor.

“As you can see from the x-ray, your testicles are here” said Dr. Phillis, as he tapped the large white blotch with his pen. Clive felt a shooting pain in his stomach. “To extract and reattach them would be a very dangerous operation.”

The doctor suddenly sprung up from behind his desk and slid towards the window overlooking the hospital car park.

“How dangerous?” asked Clive, breaking the tense silence. Dr. Phillis let out a sharp rush of air, like a sword through a car tire. He turned back to Clive.

Very dangerous. You see,” he started, stroking his beard, “your testicles, the cheeky buggers, seem to have lodged themselves inside your body and have started to swell at an unprecedented rate. If we were to remove them through an operation then you would risk losing them altogether, sacrificing your decision to have children later in life.”

Clive looked at the Doctor Phillis. He was a peculiar looking person. He was a short, fat man, around the same weight that Clive was on Wednesday in fact. His black scraggly hair waved out from his scalp and faded into his curiously red beard. His glasses were held together with aging surgical tape and he had a hoop earring dangling from his left ear. Clive couldn’t be sure, but he thought that he could see a dry smile creep across Dr. Phillis’s face.

“It’s certainly an odd situation Clive. Do you mind if I call you Clive?”


“It’s certainly an odd situation Clive. You said that this all started with a bike accident?”


“Right. Well I think that your testicles and your scrotum took the bulk of the impact and retracted into your lower abdomen. Now that explains their sudden…disappearance,” he said with a chuckle, “the weight gain I think can be attributed to an over production of semen.”

Clive looked down. He gave his swollen stomach a light rub and imagined it being full of his own sperm. He began to feel nauseous.

“Paddington Bear needs to unpack his bag!” shouted the doctor, now smiling ear to ear.

They discussed how Clive would go about “unpacking his bag”, as Dr. Phillis put it. Masturbation was the first suggestion, although Clive dismissed this, insisting that he’d done that since the accident and it hadn’t worked. The doctor then stood up and returned to his nest of thought, overlooking the hospital car park. The silence was so loud that Clive was convinced he could hear the tiny semen swimming around his belly.

“There is….one more option,” said Dr. Phillis after a minute or so. Clive looked up hopefully. “I have a drug that I’ve been working on in my laboratory at home. Don’t worry Clive me old sailor! I have a laboratory in my shed which is of National Health Service standards. The drug is called Dextrahydrochloridebyzantine 5. It’s an inhibition lowering drug. Not like a date rape drug Clive you dirty thing! No, no, no. It merely changes women’s perceptions of you. You appear virile, muscular, sexy,” he said, as his eyes widened and his lips smacked. He turned back to the window. “I would have tried this sort of thing myself but I’m afraid Mrs. Phillis would drop bombs! But I’m thinking, sex. Sex Clive. Hard sex with slim women.” he started laughing hysterically, slapping his knee and eventually coughing violently under the weight of his own wit.

“So what will happen?” asked Clive. Dr. Phillis composed himself.

“Your sperm will be transferred onto the women you sleep with.”

“Will they remember anything?”


“But…why would I want to make women-” he started.

“It’s the only way that you can return to human size. And you get to have sex with slim women. I would strongly consider your options here Cliveo.”

Clive sat in silence for a moment.

“What about…the side effects?”

The doctor spun around quickly from the window.

“Side effects?! You lose weight and get to have sex with beautiful women! How’s that for side effects?” he shouted, making a slight thrusting motion with his hips which did little to settle the nauseous feeling in his stomach.

Clive sat for a minute, and thought it over.

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