Asterisk: Some or all of the advice listed here is purely fictional. It should not be used unless desperate and/or horny and/or looking for a laugh. And, much of the advice is given from a fictional woman about women, so it's cobbled together from my own insane imaginings, rumors, urban legends, social myths, advice I've read, advice I've been given, wrong tips, correct tips, Sage learnings from the Internet, and my own relationships. It may not be exactly what a woman would say, hell it probably isn't what a woman would say. So ignore my own ignorance...or at the very least laugh at it. And, remember if you don't like it, then why in the hell are you reading it?
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Coco and Ben were relaxing. Relaxing for them meant different things for both of them. Coco was building a model, the EMD F40PH about half complete, various pieces of plastic and bottle of glue were spread around on the glass top of the coffee table. Ben was practicing martial arts with a pool cue, one that was stored in two pieces and screwed together. He had one half of it in his left hand, the lower half, and used the fatter end as a mace. He was smacking and whacking a huge metal hat rack, which was extremely bottom heavy and durable. He was hitting it fairly hard and wasn't even phasing it. Heavy metal filled the room, Coco was actually reaching a substantial level of head banging, as much as she could get away with while building a model.
Their apartment had three rooms, normally it would be occupied by two people, roommates, each in one of the rooms that were to the sides of the room they were in now. The "common room" was about the size of a suburban house's living room. The half near the door had no carpeting, which made it ideal for martial arts work, the exposed hardwood floor resisted all damage. The other half had an eggshell colored rug, on which there was a black leather couch, glass coffee table, and a large television in it's own little stained-wood center. A large glass window, with sliding door, served as the back wall of the room, opposite the front door. A kitchenette was actually at the front of the room, next to the front door, it was to your left, if you were entering the apartment.
A small hallway near this kitchenette lead to the bathroom on the frontside of the apartment and the room that acted as their bedroom on the rear side. There was a massive bed covered in layers of comforters, end tables of polished, stained oak, lamps shaped like gorgeous Greek men and women, and a large shelving unit that contained the TV for that room. Also on this, were their favorite comics and books kept close for easy ready, a few statues, and the DVD collections: several TV series ranging from Futurama-to-The Shield-to-Babylon 5, movies, a few Anime things, and lots of porn. Henry's computer was also in this room, as were several naughty things, including a sex toys in various locations, a collapsible brass stripper pole, and a sex swing hanging from the ceiling on the far side of the room in front of it's sliding glass door.
Past all the furniture, nearer the rear of the common room on the right, was another small hallway, which lead to a storage room slash study on the hallway's right and had another sliding door on the hallway's left. Here they kept all the weaponry that Ben collected (European and Arabic swords, Eskrima sticks, pool cues, and boxing gloves), all the spell books Coco read (in four forms of arcane writing), the collection of comics Ben brought to the relationship, various sci-fi novels, stacks of pornography and pin-up books, the models they both made, toys and baubles they acquired over the years, Doctor Who scarfs, a shelf that contained one miniature of each of the 493 Pokemon, artwork collected from cons and shows, and a massive collection of coffee mugs. All of this was encased, displayed by, held up, and protected by stained oak shelving, stands, brackets, and half-inch thick glass.
The balcony stretched across all three rooms, common, bed, and storage/study. It was a wooden deck almost as wide as the apartment, and stuck about five feet away from the house. Several light chairs and lounges were out there, along with a grill, rain collector, window socks, pinwheels, and plants. They lived in a climate that had seasons, so this stuff was about to be put away or covered, to protect it from the impending winter.
Coco had on a tight black tank top and gray sweat pants, her complex red and black hair was in pulled back in a severe and tight tail. She was curling her toes into the carpet and slowly bonding pieces of the train together, a gaze of almost cartoonish concentration on her face. Ben had on blue jeans and a navy blue t-shirt emblazon with a Nintendo controller, the words "Know your Roots" spread above it, and his hair in a ponytail. You could barely hear the clack-clack-whack-snap-clack of his pool cue mace on the heavy metal hat rack over the heavy metal music blaring from the speakers. In fact, he almost missed the knocking on the front door, only hearing it because he stopped for a second to take a breather. He was mildly confused why the knocking sounds persisted, even though he was still.
Ben turned the music down and answered the door. Their neighbor Tim was there, a little tongue tied when asking to come in.
"Hey guys," he said, moving to the middle of the room. Tim was a kindred spirit, he too was a massive nerd, but he made Ben and Coco look mildly well adjusted. Tim was a true otaku, a nerd that focused on an obsession, a hobby that grew from nothing into the focus of the person's whole existence. An otaku was actually not looked down upon in the vast layers of Nerddom, this hyper-hobbyist was almost an elite, actually was an elite, depending on who you asked. In Tim's case, he followed the standard morays of his kind, that is, he obsessed with anime and, by extension, Japan.
Ben and Coco had been in his room once, he had invited them over for dinner. They had to doff their shoes at the door and sat a low table in the center of a tatami mat covered living room. As Tim prepared sushi (which Coco liked but made Ben sick) they looked around his place. There were paper hangings scrawled with sloppily-inked Japanese characters, which were Tim's attempts at brush calligraphy, apparently these were temporary, developing, and ongoing. Posters of Evangelion, Cowboy Bebop, Lucky Star, and K-on were permanent fixtures on the white walls. Figures and statues of anime girls in various states of undress and in submissive poses were spread around the side-tables, shelves, and on the TV. The rest in this part of the room was fairly normal and standard stuff, but then they saw the shrine like bedroom he had.
Now that's were things were weird. Ben said, seeing everything in the room, "my God, it's full of sta—loli!"
There were several hug pillows featuring anime girls in pre-coital poses placed all over Tim's bed, like a pillow harem, stacks of Newtype magazine back issues, more statues/figures, Shounen and Seinan manga series were stacked across six-level shelving units, and cornucopia of miscellaneous collectables spread and piled everywhere. Several ships and robots hung from the ceiling on fishing wire, various mock battles between major mecha series were frozen in time, only rotating slightly as air moved about the room. All of this was around a bed and computer desk. The bed's sheets were Gurren Lagann-based and the computer had a fairly vulgar piece of hentai as the desktop background.
Ben and Coco took all this in and could only think: Hmmm, I wonder who's collection of crap is larger, ours of his. Then he showed them his closest, boxes stacked from floor to ceiling, filled with things he didn't feel deserved a place in the shrine/shelves around the bedroom. They conceded defeat, for the time being.
Now Tim was in their living room, figiting more than usual.
"Well, guys," he began in his low, dumpy-ish voice, "I have a date tomorrow night, and I need help. She's really cute and loves anime and I really have a crush on her and I just asked her today and she said yes and I just don't want to ruin the date awkwardly."
Tim was about six inches shorter than Ben, he was over-weight, but in a jolly sort of way. He was like a young, shaven Santa in shorts with scraggly black hair. He had big, round glasses and usually had a backpack full of the anime stuff or college work he had to work on.
"Oooo, you stud," Coco demurred from the couch. She was checking the train's placement on a wooden stand, before resuming the building, "who's the lucky lady."
"Oh, she's a really cute girl from my class," he absent-mindedly moved to the couch and flopped down, his weight causing Coco to push some tweezers through a window, the clear plastic piece clattering to the table then to the floor. Her looked hardened.
"Sorry," he bowed his head, "I'm just really nervous. I mean, you guys have been together for so long, I think you'd be perfect to give me advice. I mean, I just need the basics of how to, uhhh, interact with a girl."
"Interact?" Coco asked, on the floor now, looked for the small, clear plastic bit she had dropped.
"He means sex, Coco," Ben said, screwing the cue stick together. She rolled her eyes at him, tweezing the tiny piece of plastic and setting it back on the table.
She laid the tweezers down and pressed up against Tim, arching her back slightly so her breasts were almost in Tim's face. She swirled her finger in his oily hair, "you mean handle one of these," she said in a deep, sultry voice, her body writing slightly and subtly. Tim chuckled in a low "hur hur hur" way.
Ben had the pool que whirled up to a terrifyingly fast speed and he swung it like a baseball bat, knocking the large heavy hat rack over. Coco cleared her throat and moved back to the model.
"So what kind of advice?" Ben asked, picking up the hat rack and standing it in it's place, making sure the hardwood floor wasn't damaged. The pool cue had shattered and splintered from the hit. He continued, "Talking? Foreplay? Sex? Positions? Oral? Anal? Bondage? Fluids? Bodily or Lubricant? Threeways? Fourways? Bukak--"
