At the middle

There is no mistaking the essential oils and the sweet smell of success - there must be a god. I've emerged from a state of sleep - in a room colour coordinated from the pastel pink of the walls to the duvet and curtains. I'm sure the inspiration has come from a House and Home magazine. The only thing out of place is me - naked, and lying on my back using my cock as a tent pole - dying for a pee. 

      No-longer able to hold on I grab the top sheet, throw it over my naked shoulder as would a Roman Senator and drag the end along the carpet like a bride's veil towards the bathroom. 

     I drop the sheet and stand over the bowl relieving myself of last night's fluids - a split second longer I would have wet myself. While making every drop a winner I count three hair shampoo bottles, “V05”, “Vita-Man” and “Sebamed” (*trade name) for dry hair.

      Five different nail polish colours, apple green, innocent nude, cinnamon, peacock blue and French pick - a male's electric shaver, several cheap plastic twin blade shavers, a silver-plated hairbrush and comb set.

     Done with peeing I flush the loo and place down the seat - showing I'm a man of the twenty-first century.

****

To my astonishment and complete surprise – there is my best friend Duke, reclining in the bath – naked engulfed in a tomb of cold water, his blue eyes have lost their shine - his rugby player’s thighs limp and saggy, and for his indiscretion for off field conduct, has received the red-card.

I’m no Florence Nightingale, Doctor Kildare or Detective Morse, Inspector Poirot. Not even Columbo or Sherlock Holmes - but I know when someone’s dead and Duke is dead in the bath. I let the water out. 

****

With my bed sheet cover Duke, I seize a bath towel and head towards the kitchen - no one is there but a note, advising, gone to get eggs and milk - make your-self at home, back in 5.

I decide to make the bed and get dressed before they return, unfortunately can’t find my clothes - wishing I had taken more attention to my mother about hospital corners. 

     Before I can complete the task there is activity in the kitchen - I migrate there. Just as I enter and when the person at the bench turns from slicing a banana onto a plate of cereal – the towel covering my midriff floats to the floor. 

     ‘Morning Graham, did you sleep well?’ Spoken with a warm and friendly voice. ‘Kelly will be back in a minute – sit down.

Retrieving the towel I cover my exposed genitals and comment on the award-winning layout of the kitchen – and that it has the most - red coloured appliances, I have ever seen in one place.

     Saved from making more of a fool of myself - in front of whom I assume is Kelly’s friend, a flat -mate or partner - the back door opens. 

     Carrying eggs and a bottle of blue top milk, this beautiful female figure sweeps in – her hair un-brushed, her face natural with no make up – and looking fresh as a daisy. She is bare footed - wearing only a loose white semi-see through T-shirt just covering her boobs and wide-legged light blue striped knickers.      

      'I see you have met my brother'. Are her first words, followed by. ‘Are you ready for breakfast?'  

‘Yes’. Was my feeble response, to this beast of beauty – totally captured by her blue sparkling eyes and the pinkness of her nipples. 

     My concentration interrupted by Robert. 

     ‘No need to have made my bed'. He was saying. 'I was going to change the sheets today anyway’.

     Kelly reads the expression on my face, it’s asking - had I slept with this man - maybe we had a three-some. Everyman’s dream - found written in hundreds of man magazines and adult videos - could have be a better scenario, if Robert was a Rebecca. 

     I’m assured by Kelly that was not the case. 

Again, I’m interrupted when a plate of scramble eggs on toast is placed in front of me. The movement of her arm provides me a wonderful vision of her small well-formed, uplifting, white soft protruding breasts and pink nipples. I’m in “Michael Jackson’s Neverland” - grateful that I have slept in her bed last night, not on the two-setter couch or the uncomfortable bed-settee, nor sleeping on the floor with the family dog.

Moments like this you appreciate that life can be so wonderfully inspiring and unpredictable. I’m engrossed with the intense and eager enjoyment, of watching a women eating bananas her brother had sliced over the cereal - trying not to stare, making sure both my hands are on the table and away from my erect penis. School-boy dictionary. Male genital organ with mind of it’s own. 

We had meet only last night, shared free booze and intense sexual climaxes – what more can a man ask for.

I’m interrupted once more from my thoughts by Kelly’s iphone4s vibrating to the song, “Born in the USA”, before flying from the table she grabs it. 'It’s mother', she mumbles while turning away- and I mumble, ‘God what an arse’. The curves of this sexual instrument of destruction to man’s intelligent thought and sanity - automatically starts off my inbuilt destruction device - containing strong sexual appetite for penetration, this artistic implement grabs the knob of my cock, scans it’s memory bank for any recent recognition of a contact with that object?

I ask. ‘Can I help to clean up - although I must say the place doesn’t look to bad’. “The party was next door”. Kelly informed me and went on to say. ‘Robert carried you here to bed - as there was no room next door and you looked so uncomfortable yet - very sweet, on the floor behind the sofa’.’

     ‘I did? I reply without any knowledge of this – ‘Did I we share your bed?’

     ‘You did, and you performed admiringly.’ Kelly said showing pleasure in her eyes and commenting on the relief showing on my face - her warm smile makes the towel move under the table. “Thank you god”. I was saying under my breath.

‘I was lucky then.’ I said smiling with the answer.

Now I’m telling her – I’m the manager of a local rock band, ”You are.” She is impressed and now pushing for the band’s name and things I don’t anything about, I’m sure she is wet with excitement and only the table holds our organs apart.

With desperation, I change the topic by asking.

‘Where did Robert sleep last night?’ 

“With us of cause’. She was laughing and watching for my reaction - it’s a big bed. 

‘Did we, you know?’

‘Did we what?’

‘You no?’

‘Yes we did and like I said - you performed admiringly.’

‘Was I in the middle?’ I asked. ‘Yes you were’. 

 Robert is not gay he is currently between girls”. Kelly explains.

Rita flicked Robert for a ......... look a like. Before he could recover from his loss, she had her tongue down her new lover's throat and her hands around his fleshy muscular organ. ......... slumped away - his tail between his legs. His confidence shot.

Rejuvenated he found himself making eyes at a half naked and sloshed figure. He could see her contents splashing around in her eyes, with the excess spilling from her heart shaped mouth - painted with his favourite red lipstick. He was not sure if she was interested in his attentions, however she was willing to accept his suggestion to find a spot behind the sofa.

As he was removing the balance of her clothing and manoeuvering her legs under the sofa, pinning her on her back. It dawned on him to ask her name. 

    'I'm not sure'. Laughing, she was grabbing for her bottle of ......... as it rolled further under the sofa, leaving an opening for his cause.

    Results from a study I’ve read carried out by Missy Swallow of the Prostitute Collective found 25% of men between 18 and 35 have at sometime enjoyed another man’s company, also found those under 18 have experiences with themselves several times a week.

  Girls on the other hand spent all their time discussing the size of their bums.

Things go a little strange here for a while – I need a shag, one I can enjoy, now I’m sober - then find the others and get out of here.

So, I calmly suggest, trying to show feelings for her other than just desire for her pussy - we should return to bed and make out, without her brother. 

    For some reason she does not take this kindly. ‘Is that all you want me for - a sex object?’ 

‘Yes’ I said, before being able to stop myself.

I can tell by the tone in her voice, she is not pleased - and now I’m apologising and expressing great emotional pain, knowing that this answer is reducing the chances of getting her out of those wide-legged light blue striped knickers. Not only that I’m reducing her to tears and sobbing and convulsive gasps - there is nothing like a women gasping in horror at the sight of my escaping member while pole-vaulting the table to console and comfort her.

 “You rotter”. Robert was saying without a great lot of conviction in his voice or anger or displeasure or hostility to me – looks like he was enjoying the spectacle, of me naked flopped on top of his sister.

“I sorry; I did not mean to up set her”. Expressing sincere regret and remorse like that of a convicted murderer with the hope of reducing his sentence and laying the groundwork to return to his lover’s bed. Again I’m saying “sorry” - unfortunately it’s difficult to be taken serious when one is lying on top of the most beautiful women in the world and ones penis has found it’s way under her arm pit and resting on a nice firm pick nipple.

I’m in Kelly’s apartment now being introduced to her sister Sandra.

     With the incident that occurred next door where I had pined Kelly to the floor taking with us the bowl of cereal toped with slices of banana and ample supply of milk; she had removed the wet top and inadvertently forgotten to replace it, allowing me to tell the difference between these two most beautiful women in the world.

     Sandra’s hand has waving at me. “Hello nice to meet you”

“And you”. Was my reply.

     “We are twins” Kelly’s showing that sexy smile again bringing the same sensation of happiness to what is under the towel.

I can see the place is a duplicate of the apartment next door, kitchen, lounge, bathroom and a single bedroom.

“So you both live here?”

“Yes”. The twins said in a two-part harmony, both showing that sexy smile bringing the same sensation of happiness to what is under the towel. I’m wishing I had twin penises.

     “Your clothes are over there behind the sofa, and they were, scooping them up letting a draft of air up my arse.

I left without further ado ...