Fahckmylife's Blog
Crap adult, OK human.

Bit of fiction/filth/whatever (possibly not safe for work)

This is old.  It could be reworked but whether I am ever motivated enough to do it is another story completely.



I stagger along the side of the studio on a gravel path and intermittently bang into the wall.  I feel so heavy and being to feel the stinging of hot tears on my cheeks.  I stand swaying in the darkness and attempt to focus on the bushes in front of me.  I can’t see the party lights anymore from here.   I can make out what’s ahead of me in a dim navy light.  My back rests against the wall and I notice that there is a window open in the studio.  I can hear a TV and I creep over and take a look inside.  Jack is slumped on the sofa, basked in the white light of the television, vacantly looking at the screen.  As if nothing happened…As if I didn’t even cross his mind.  I know his mind is completely blank and I get upset that he doesn’t think about it as much as me.  I’m sad that it doesn’t make any apparent difference to him at all, yet it was a pretty big thing for me.

And this is when the vomiting starts.  It’s violent and my whole body contorts. I wretch once and immediately dart away from the window to avoid the even further shame of being caught puking.  In one never ending (yet surprisingly quiet) stream I empty the acidic contents of my stomach into a bush.  Steam rises off the sick and disperses into the inky light.  My eyes strain behind the darkness of my eyelids –

I’m such a fool.  So socially inept –

– as I cough and splutter the remains onto the gravel at my feet.  It’s just as I’m taking out a tissue and chewing gum from my bag that I hear my name being shouted.  I look up and just ahead of me is Dan standing in the television light pouring out from the window.

‘So you’re the one throwing up out here?’ he asks smiling.  ‘You OK?’

I nod and throw a chewing gum into my mouth.

‘Why you here?’   I ask kicking my left foot around aimlessly on the ground.  I focus on this.  ‘Lorraines’ asleep and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see each other.’

‘I know – I just wanted to explain some stuff to you.’

I have to look up for to see his face for this.  He looks completely calm – not remorseful or stern but reassuring.  He extends a hand towards me and reluctantly I walk towards him. 

‘I can’t believe what happened tonight’ he mumbles with a hand behind his head.  ‘I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on a lot of things but I never meant to hurt her.  I know now is a pretty bad situation but I’d just like to tell you how much I’ve always  respected you.’

Who the fuck talks like that?

It starts to rain gently as we begin to walk together further away from any light.


It’s like I suddenly snap out of sleepwalking.  I realise my head is pushing up against a wall at irregular intervals.  A hand moves up roughly under my bra.  I look down at the ground – I have one leg out of my knickers and jeans.   On some level I was aware of what was happening with Dan until this point of stark realisation – I just didn’t actually think that I was doing it.  Just like in those dreams where you are running down a long corridor to get to the toilet.  Eventually you get there and pee and it’s the best feeling ever.  When you wake up you hope that it’s sweat that you’re soaked with…

As I have stated before that I am a classy lady I notice that I’m still wearing both my socks.  I’m very slightly bent over and now he starts to pull my hips towards himself vigorously.  With each thrust my head bangs against the wall a little harder and I wince.  I don’t think I’m really making any noise but he makes little grunts.  One of his hands slides down slightly from my hips into my pubes and fiddles around aimlessly. He isn’t that rough but I expect him to snag some hair or my bits – it doesn’t happen.

People definitely look better with clothes on so I thank my lucky stars that I’m only partially naked in the darkness.  I can’t really see much of him either.  At least there is some level of dignity involved.  Dignity?  A laughable concept considering the present situation.  I mean my face is being grated against a wall for fuck’s sake!  I guess I started it…Well it is temporarily distracting me from the dull pain of rejection or whatever the hell that was supposed to be.  I just don’t really know why I’m doing this …  and I know that I’ll probably regret this at some stage.  I just figure at this stage that it would be just as difficult to stop as to keep going so I again try to make the best of this bizarre situation.  At least he isn’t hurting me I reason.

At this point I start a conversation with myself. 

‘Well how are you Eve?’  a chirpy voice asks.

‘I’m OK’ a less enthusiastic voice says. ‘I guess I’m in the process of having sex with Dan though.   That’s a bit weird.’

‘Oh my!’ the other voice says disapprovingly but still chirpy.  ‘How ever did you get yourself into such a predicament!’

His fingers suddenly just find the right place and I sigh with relief.  Then he loses it again.  I don’t correct him because I decide I just want this over with.  He leans in more and forces my knees to bend as I have to lean forward to keep my balance.  There is little concern for my comfort here.  Now he uses one arm to prop himself up against the wall over my head. I can feel him breathing on the nape of my neck.   It seems to go in time with what I imagine you could waltz to. 


‘You know what?  I’m not really sure’ the quiet voice says thinking.  ‘But I think I might know why…’

I’m now starting to realise why I’m doing this.  I close my eyes and think it.   This seems a lot safer in that respect and makes the whole situation a bit better – actually, in fairness, a lot better.  So  this works pretty well for me for passing uncomfortable time.  The beauty of not seeing someone’s face during sex is that they could be anyone (as well as not seeing their undignified sex faces).  I’m sure Dan is doing the same – maybe to him I’m Veronica.  Maybe it’s her face he’s mashing against the wall in the rain.  No – I expect they would have sex on a bed of flowers in a white bedroom and when they were finished a million doves would be released into the sky.  That’s not the way things go for me – not that I’d want them to.

‘You are such a silly drunken sausage!’ the happy voice coos. 

His thrusts then change to what only could be cringingly described as urgent pounding as he grunts just overhead.  The grunts then change to some sort of stifled sound and he finishes on three or four vicious jerks. To top it off he utters a sudden and slightly frightening string of filthy obscenities.   He sighs and pulls away from me and fixes his fly.  Meanwhile I feel like a bath that the plug has been let out of.  Nasty hot dripping mess.  I feel that it was pretty anti-climatic and scramble for my clothes on the damp ground.  The injustice of it all!

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