Talking Balls

"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'."

Silence from the other two.

"Yeah." Farah twirled the stem of her wine glass in her fingers, unsure how to continue. "I guess I figured this was my chance to, you know, see what it was like."

"And what was it like?"

"Very messy. I'd been all like, Farah, you are a big girl, you can handle a little jizz but it wasn't a little jizz, it was like a bucketful. He made that stupid hernia noise..."

"Oh, I hate that!"

"Totally!"

"... and then he just unloaded spurt after spurt after spurt. Every time I thought it had to be the last one, along came another. I can only imagine what I looked like."

"Like a lemon-glazed coffee cake."

"Racist."

"Sorry, I think I've been watching too much

Bake Off

."

"Meanwhile,"said Farah, ignoring the pair, "He's doing his best Hugh Grant impression - 'Oh, er, sorry, um, shit, etc, etc' - and I'm like 'relax, I asked for it'. Or, at least, that's what I'm thinking; I can't say anything cos my face is all gummed up. It was like he'd thrown a custard pie at me."

"

Bake Off

."

"Shut up, Rachel."

"Sorry."

"Eventually I recover enough to say, 'Um, can I have a towel, dude?' or something. He gave me a tissue. As if that would do any good at all! I needed one of those professional cleaners who specialise in crime scenes."

"

Dude

."

"Seriously, Rachel, shut the fuck."

"Sorry, I think I got a glass ahead of you two somehow."

"Fucking alcky," said Kathryn scornfully as she took another giant swig of merlot. "Okay, I can see why you didn't see him again. That must have been pretty embarrassing."

Farah actually blushed.

"Hey, didn't you date him for like a month though?" chipped in Rachel.

Farah's blush deepened. "Yeah, we dated for six weeks. And he was the one who broke it off."

Kathryn and Rachel hunched forward scenting blood in the water.

"So he didn't text me. Obviously." Farah sighed, debating with herself for the umpteenth time whether or not to continue. "But I couldn't stop thinking him. Well, it. Them. I became kind of obsessed, kept replaying it in my mind all the time. And every time I did, I..." Here Farah made some vague, embarrassed gestures with her eyes and chin that nonetheless successful conveyed the fact every time she thought about his balls, she'd soaked her knickers. "And this was happening at work!" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "By Friday, I actually had to go into the toilet and have a wank."

"Oh, I do that all the time. I've got my favourite cubicle and everything," said Kathryn breezily.

"Now who is being gross?" asked Rachel.

"Yeah, good for you, Kat, but I'm normal and normal people don't do that," said Farah. Rachel nodded vigorously to back her up.

"Oh yeah, this story proves you are definitely, one hundred percent normal," muttered Kathryn sarcastically but they ignored her.

"So I text him and he texts back. And then we go back and forth, dancing around the issue. Then he's, like, 'Do you want to do something at the weekend? There's this great show at the blah blah blah' and I'm, like, 'no, come round mine straight after work tonight for some dinner'."

"Yeah, fur pie!" chuckled Rachel at an inappropriately loud volume.

"That phrase is totally, totally gross."

"For once Kathryn is right. Plus I shave. Plus he never got down there."

"Lazy bastard."

Farah scrunched her face up. "Kinda my fault. Anyway, he brought wine and flowers and was all, like, 'let me help you cook' which yeah, I guess was nice but wasn't what I had on the agenda. So I was pretty to the point."

"How to the point?

"Well, I think my exact words were, 'Get your fucking clothes off and stick your dick in my mouth'."

"Classy lady."

"I'll be honest, he was a bit taken about. But he was also a man so it didn't take long for him to shove it in my face. And I went to town. Went to town and crashed the car. Using my mouth as a birdbath for his nuts, milking him with my throat, telling him to use my ears as handles, you know."

Rachel looked at Kathryn. Kathryn shrugged.

"Anyway... this time I was prepared for what was coming."

"You'd put a plastic bag over your head?"

Farah rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. No, I had my sunglasses and my phone under the bed next to me."

Kathryn and Rachel looked at her in bemusement. Farah rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead.

"Long, wet, messy story short, as he hit the vinegar strokes I whipped on the Ray-Bans. He actually said WTF and I think that was the only time I heard him swear but by that time he was hosing me down. And once he'd finished clearing out the custard I reached back and grabbed my phone and asked him to take a photo. I just had to see what I looked like."

The pair looked at each other. Rachel recovered first. "What did he do?"

"Well, it took a bit of persuading but he did it."

"Show it to me," said Rachel, a sudden look of sober intensity in her eyes.

"What?"

"Don't play with me. Show me the photo."

Farah blushed. "I deleted it."

"Show. Me. The. Photo."

Silently, Farah reached into her handbag for her phone and, with a few deft taps, found the offending photo.

"You found that pretty quickly," smirked Rachel. "Look at it often, do you?"

Rachel squinted. Somewhere lurking in the photo were black sunglasses, brown skin, pink lips and white teeth but they were barely discernible under what looked like half a pint of man muck.

"And that pretty much set the scene for our relationship. We'd meet up, I'd demand he fucked my face and then I'd take a massive facial. I thought he was getting into on the fourth time cos he was good to go almost straight away again afterwards. But missionary was too weird so he did me doggystyle and I ended up getting my face glued to the sheets."

Kathryn was shaking her head. Rachel hadn't looked up.

"So after a couple of weeks he calls me and goes, 'erm, this is a a bit too weird for me, I just want to have a kiss and a cuddle after sex, I don't like degrading you, blah, blah, blah.' Loser. Er, and that's my story," concluded Farah, suddenly realising exactly the journey she'd taken with her friends. "Great, now I'm totally embarrassed, drunk and horny."

"Actually, I'm kinda horny too," put in Kathryn helpfully.

"You are always horny," said Rachel, her eyes remaining locked to Farah's phone. "That is quite a photo," she said looking up. "I might need to take a copy."

Farah had buried her face in her hands by this point. "Please, somebody else tell a humiliating story about themselves."

"Okay, okay, I've got one," said Kathryn, bouncing slightly. "Did I ever tell you about the Big Dicked Bastard?"

"That's, like, fifty percent of your boyfriends."

"Oh, but the Big Dicked Bastard was something special. Right, so..."

"Wait, wait, wait - I think we need another bottle."

There were nods all round.