ahem

im not very sure about the following one.
but here goes

Mummyjis who like to fuck.

Sex scandal and brown trash’s ultimate young novel.

He paced around the hotel lobby, nursing his classic milds, dressed the exact antithesis of his true dress sense, tight skinny fitting jeans hed saved up and bought for an unheard of price, tight man cleavage bearing neon party shirt. Enough hair gel to make him look like he showered in it every morning,

Every once hed stop and look at the mirror, and spontaneously dissolve into a mind numbing seriesod subtle poses trying to figure out which one he needed for tonight. Tonight wouldn’t be about the inteelectual, the patroness in question was from a very rich diamond merchants wife in surat, She needed Bollywood, she needed low threatening voices, uber masculine, urban cowboy with a low self esteem type looks and yet submissive in bed, the type whod have to jump through hoops, the type which was trying to dissolve a lifetimes worth of repressed sexuality with a vengeful efficiency. The type who’d pay really well though, and often bit on more than they could chew. They liked submissive, but not to an effeminate extent. Just enough to rid them of the frustration of always being told what to do.. Not really Skinny dominatrix parsi from south Mumbai who once made him lick a commode

A hoarse absolute monstrosity of a woman sat at a table in the lobby, having successfully, (though not very well) managed to fit into a dress much, much tighter than her poor waistline deserved.

Not her, for fucks sake, not her” our man thought, but sure enough, she made a not too subtle sensual hint for him to sit by her.

He could almost feel his penis shrink back in repulsion, and as he did so incredibly often in these situations, our man began with what promis to be the heart and soul of this entire tale, he begins his youtube famous conversations with his penis.

It might seem funny bu it really wasn’t, for ever since that one time he popped a tab of acid at goa, he started having these very vivid often elaborate conversations with his penis. The began with the penis’es (penii???) initially dancing in his head as they sang little monologues, limericks and occasionally stand up comedy which was, (obviously), always below the belt. But soon they became full on conversations, with topics ranging from “does megan fox really have a wiener?” to the more serious, “would you ever do Mayawati, even to gain enormous political power??”

“all right laddie, no shrinking back, the dress makes her look fatter than she actually is”

“are you fucking with me man,” said his penis, in a voice almost exactly like Danny DeVito”if I entered her it’d be like trying to bridge a crack in the hoover dam with a thumb”

“it paying a lot”

“fuck that, the last time we were paid this much I was scared to come out for weeks, This ones gonna be freaky”

“you like freaky”

“not when the person being nasty looks like she ate an entire lineup of hells angels as a midnight snack”
“you’re exaggerating again man, she still has vestiges of smouldering beauty in her eyes”

“that’s not smouldering beauty, she’s half a bottle of black label down”

“we were paid in advance and shes paying twice what she initially offered”

“I’ll need performance enhancers though”

“attaboy”

“I told you, I hate being referred to as a boy, or little man, or the small soldier, Just because im so attached to you doesn’t mean I cant be hurt by what you say”

“ricky?”, a tobacco toughened, 70 going on 17 voice asked.

“Hi sexy, I wouldn’t have guessed a sexy woman like you would’ve needed me, Charmed”
And he kissed the mottled palm, looked up at her grotesquely made up face and tried to stop thinking of what the next couple of hours would be like.

They went up the lift, the attendant looking at them with a cynical knowing look. And as they finally entered the beasts lair, he launched into it.

Being a gigolo in india was a fanastic job opportunity, simply because most Indian men thought foreplay was a blowjob and maybe squeezing a few tits. So when he xpertly kissed her neck and trailed a wet tongue right around her ear, she was randy as a bull with a chastity belt during mating season.

“try not to look down” he chanted as he gave the diamond merchants wife a reason to sparkle.

After three hours where he wanted nothing more than to throw up, he succeeded in giving mrs Mehta a screamer.

Gets out of the hotel. Rumbles his thunderbird twinspark and rushes home. For a long long shower and some very strong alcohol to forget what had just happened.


Ends up jacking off to something. Forgets what it is.















Morning brings life. Wakes up at home.

Its 10.30 in the morning and hes a college student. An engineering college student.

He had a girlfriend too.

He loved her.

He liked booze and pussy just as much though.

Hes home now.