"Ew, no! All men are obsessed with it because they are gross pigs who spend too much time wanking to porn."
"Oh-
kay
, so that's a 'no' from Kathryn."
It was turning into one of those afternoons. The three friends had agreed to meet for a quick lunchtime drink that Saturday but Kathryn had had a shit week at work, Rachel was hungover and Farah was still -
still!
- single. These factors had resulted in the inevitable post-hello conversation: "Red or white?" "Red." "Large or small?" Bottle." It had all been downhill from there.
"What about you?"
"Once. As a 'birthday treat'." Rachel made the obligatory air quotes. "His birthday, obviously."
"And?"
"And the dickhead got me straight in the eye. It stung like hell and I had to wear my glasses to dinner because I couldn't face putting my contacts in. I hardly talked to him, made him pay the bill and wouldn't sleep with him for a week."
"Harsh."
"Harsh? Have someone ejaculate on your eyeball and then tell me I was being harsh."
"Well..."
Kathryn and Rachel sucked in a joint breath. "Ooh! Come on, Farah, you've got to spill now."
Farah puffed out her cheeks, clearly debating whether she'd had enough to drink. "Just so you know, this is TMI to the power of TMI. I'm getting embarrassed just thinking about telling you."
"Hey, we share everything. Remember when I told you about that bum sex debacle with Ross?" said Rachel.
"Oh god, don't remind us," shuddered Kathryn.
"You are one to talk. Act all squeamish but remember that eye-wateringly graphic story about Tony? Oh God, or that one about John? Or, well, the list is pretty much endless."
"Bitch."
Farah took a big gulp of her drink.
"So this is, like, two years ago, maybe 18 months. A work friend was trying to set me up with her friend and he was pretty cute so I was all, okay, why not? He was called Paul. You might remember him, I think you met at those 'I'm fucking off to Australia drinks' that Mel had in Shoreditch?"
"Oh yeah, he was nice, whatever happened to him?"
"I think we are about to find out, doofus."
"Doofus? Who even says that?"
"Girls, girls, girls. Do you want to hear this humiliating story about my fucked up love life or what?"
"We are all ears," said Kathryn looking good as gold.
"Picture the scene. It is our third date, everything is going well, I've had a few so that means..."
"Sex!" jumped in Kathryn and Rachel simultaneously. Perhaps a little too loudly judging by a few turned heads. The trio dissolved into giggles but pulled themselves together again.
"Okay, so we are doing it and it is kind of good."
"Kind of?"
"It's good! Just not earth shattering. Not the sort of sex I'd text you guys about the next day."
"Gotcha."
"Anyway, he is obviously approaching the final straight and he's giving it a bit of welly and then I feel it. It's.. well, it's sort of like a cat is headbutting my perineum."
Stunned silence from the rest of the table.
"Okay, I am definitely not drunk enough for this. Somebody get another bottle."
Rachel was hurriedly despatched to the bar to grab another bottle of red. Kathryn leaned forward and took the opportunity to surreptitiously ask, "This isn't going to be gross, is it?"
Farah rolled her eyes. "For someone who's had more cock than I've had hot dinners, you are a terrible prude."
"Meow!"
"Hey, you guys didn't start without me, did you?" asked Rachel, plonking down the wine.
"No, no. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, so it is the next morning and I wake up with a bit of a hangover and that freshly fucked feeling between my legs. Meanwhile, he's snoring away behind me and poking me in the bum with his morning wood so I start to have a quick play with myself but then I need to get up for a wee. And as I'm walking to the toilet, I spot the condom on the floor."
"Gross," interjected Kathryn.
"Shh, that's not the point. The point is that it looked like a freaking water balloon."
"A water balloon?" echoed Rachel incredulously whilst Kathryn pulled a face of disgust.
"Okay, a golf ball. So then I'm sitting on the toilet brushing my teeth and acting like a super detective. Ding! Lightbulb above my head: this guy has got massive balls."
"What was his dick like?"
"God, you are obsessed, Kat! It's not all about dick," Rachel said. "Farah, continue please."
"Listen, Kathryn, this is a story about balls, okay? His dick was normal. Nice. Satisfied?"
"Thank you," said Kathryn primly, casting significant side-eye at Rachel.
"I've lost my bloody train of thought now. Oh yeah, so I grab a quick shower and go back to the bedroom and he's stirring and we do kissing and chatting and general new partner stuff. And then he has a shower and I decide I want to have a bit of an explore of my new toy when he gets out. So he walks into the bedroom in a towel to find me kneeling on the floor fingering myself. He gets the hint and next thing you know..."
At this juncture Farah raised her cupped hand to her mouth, stuck her tongue in her cheek and made the universally recognised mime. Kathryn and Rachel nodded sagely.
"I'm properly going for it, making a mess, doing all the porn crap that men love but what he doesn't know is that this is all just a smokescreen."
"You little minx," winked Rachel.
"Sorry, I'm lost," said Kathryn.
"She wanted to check out his balls, doofus."
"Yeah, I got that,
doofus
. But since when do men need to be tricked into letting you play with their balls? I've got a fucking queue of men who'd chop off their left arm to get me to slurp their sack."
"Okay, it is possible I'd lost a bit of perspective by this point. And it is also possible that your head is as grotesquely swollen as your tits."
"Bitch," said Kathryn giving a little shimmy to showcase said swollen tits. Rachel and Farah rolled their eyes.
"The point is I'm now face-to-face with his nuts."
"His cat's head," put in Rachel helpfully.
"His golf ball factory," continued Kathryn.
"His Super Soakers," finished Farah wistfully.
Rachel and Kathryn looked at each. Farah cleared her throat.
"Anyway, they are fucking huge. Like, obscene. I almost got pregnant just by looking at them. And the weird thing is they proper turn me on. I'm literally dripping on the carpet."
Kathryn pulled a mew of disgust. Rachel gave a hearty thumbs up.
"Right, so I'm going to town and obviously he isn't going to last long under the onslaught of my awesome cocksucking skills." Her two friends nodded diplomatically. "And he's, like, 'Careful, love, I'm about to jizz down your throat.'"
"He did not say that!" squealed Kathryn.
"No, of course he didn't. It was more like, 'Ugnh, God, shit, Farah, I thinking I'm going to, ugh, come.' And so I said, 'Don't worry, just come on my face'."
