Thursday, June 09, 2005

Clean porn

I'm trying hard to reduce my naughty words.

SPLINTERS
Chapter One continued

Sitting in a tree did nothing to get him excited. Especially seeing Buffy stroke the tree limb made Stephen feel inadequate. The other three men sitting on the thick limb looked like large, white naked whooping cranes as they stared at Buffy.

Briefly he wondered if this were such a good idea. Perhaps he should have opted to sit at home and wank off while watching yet another Wonder Woman DVD. Wonder Woman was his ideal female, what with the patriotic red, white and blue uniform, and besides, there were the bazooka sized knockers.

He shifted his weight to get a better position on the tree limb and winced. A very large, sappy knot dug into his bottom. It felt like that time when his GP had snapped on the rubber gloves and uttered those three words every red-blooded male dreaded: “Bend over, please.”

Luke, whose mother had named him after conceiving him during a Star Wars matinee, glanced over. “Got a problem, there Stephen?”

"I’ve a knot up my butt.”

“I’m getting one waiting here to get laid,” complained Hank. Hank was a good-ole boy who met Buffy at a line dancing contest. He drove a Ford truck with a big American flag waving from the bed. The truck had brass balls hanging from the undercarriage. Stephen privately thought men who drove trucks with balls were overcompensating.

“We can’t do her, as you say, without making some decisions,” Charles announced.

Stephen disliked his prissy English accent. Charles sounded like one of those boring Masterpiece Theater narrators. He glanced at him. No, Charles didn’t have it up, either. And he thought the English were always stiff. Well, not in all departments.

“What kind of decisions? I’m primed and pumped and ready for action,” piped up Timmy. Timmy was the youngest, only 18, with a peach fuzz face and a permanent state of arousal. Stephen disliked him, too.

“Well, who gets what part and where? All of us on Buffy at once is not a smashing idea. We might fall out,” Charles said.

Timmy snickered. “Once I get in, I never fall out.”

Hank hit him on the arm. “He means the tree, dumbass.”

The teenager whined. “Don’t call me dumbass.”

Charles held up a hand. “Gentlemen, please. Let us resolve this. Perhaps we should have numbers and wait our turn, you know, for service.”

“I’m not a deli counter,” Buffy grated out.

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