A Strea a Slut & a Punch

The Streak

Saturday night had edged into Sunday morning. It had been cold, frosty, and I had been walking back home. Alone. Drunk.

Totally

drunk. And, I hadn't pulled. As usual.

Out of the blue a perverted voice in my head had said:

Take all your clothes off. Run naked down the road. You know it's what you want to do.

Yeah, fuck it, I will,

I'd responded.

The road had been quiet and residential. Suburban. Posh.

I'd briefly looked around at the handful of houses and the darkness behind the windows.

Good, I'll risk it.

Under the harsh purple-blue, fluorescent light of the streetlamp I'd stripped off.

I was completely naked and had felt the chill air on my flesh. It was bracing. Arousing. Liberating. Yet I had felt apprehension. Fear even. Fear of prosecution. Exposure. Ridicule. Derision. Public humiliation.

But the Devil was with me that night, whispering temptations in my ear. Exhorting me.

I had picked up all my clothes and placed them under my arm.

I was hard. Achingly so.

With my erection pointing the way I had run down the road. Hedges and gardens and trimmed lawns had whizzed past; the cold air had flowed round my nude body engulfing and caressing it.

I had been intoxicated with arousal and a strange sense of freedom. I had been me...

totally

me and I had felt...

immortal.

But then I began to gasp for breath and my heart started to pound. I slowed down and realised that the spell was fading. And the voice of the Devil was now nowhere to be heard.

Coming to my senses I had halted and dressed as swiftly as possible.

God, you fool, you could have been arrested and charged with indecency. You would have been a laughingstock. You would have shamed your family. Maybe lost your job,

I had thought.

I had briskly walked the last few hundred yards home and had hoped desperately that no one would run after and confront me, before descending the seven stone steps that had led to the front door of my house...

Just Another Slut on a Saturday Night

"If you promise to stay the night, Matt, then I'll let you sleep with me."

"Yeah, okay then," I'd responded flatly. I wasn't that fussed either way. But since I was there, well...

Her little plain face had lit up, like a punter pulling three cherries on a fruit machine, and she said, all excitedly: "I'll go and set up the camp bed then."

"Why do you need to do that?"

"There's only one bedroom and one double bed here which I share with my sister. She won't want to come home and find you in bed with me," she replied, and then giggled in a silly and irritating way as though she was eight rather than eighteen.

"You sleep with your sister?"

"We can only just afford the rent on a one-bedroom flat. My dad threw us out."

She disappeared into the bedroom leaving me alone in the 'lounge' to look around. The place was certainly a shithole: musty and peeling wallpaper, threadbare carpet with single naked light bulb suspended by a twisted flex. I wouldn't be staying here any longer than needs be.

I was quite drunk having sunk pint after pint of lager and lime, first in Yelf's Tubs then down at the Prince Consort Discotheque with my mate, Jeremy. I

definitely

wouldn't have been there if I hadn't been so pissed.

I suddenly chuckled, recalling having given Jeremy, my best mate, strict instructions at the beginning of the evening for him to drag me away from Janine if it looked like I was in danger of getting off with her. Unsurprisingly, as no other females were interested, I had grabbed her for a smooch when the DJ had concluded the evening by playing

Sealed with a Kiss

by Brian Hyland and then proceeded to snog her with the final bars of the track fading out just prior to the main lights flicking on to signal 'kicking out' time.

Whilst she was picking up her coat from the cloakroom Jeremy had approached me and said: "You're going to regret this in the morning, Matt. Remember what you told me: 'Don't let me get off with Janine under any circumstances.' "

"I know what I am doing. I'll be okay," I had slurred. I had then discretely flashed him the crumpled carton of

Durex

I had been keeping stashed in my back pocket.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he had reminded me, whilst briefly raising his eyebrows, before turning and heading for the exit...

The door from the bedroom opened and Janine had dragged out the camp bed along with a duvet and a couple of pillows. I'd watched her unfold the bed and place the bedclothes on the top. I couldn't be bothered to help.

"I'm just going to the loo. I won't be long," I informed her. Nothing more uncomfortable than shagging with a full bladder.

I pushed open the door to the toilet. It was in as a crappier condition as the rest of the flat: curled up lino, mouldy walls, rusty pipes and lime-scale crusted to the bowl like barnacles to the bottom of a ship's hull. Nice.

I unzipped my fly and had released a powerful jet of piss before noticing a small pool of yellow urine growing to the side of the pan on the lino - oops. I adjusted my aim, finished urinating then flushed the cistern.

I re-entered the lounge to find her already under the covers.

"You haven't wasted any time then?" I said to her.

"Take your clothes off and then snuggle in, Matt. It's cold tonight."

I took all my clothes off, discarding them in a heap on the dirty floor, whilst she watched me and as she did, I became, despite the quantity of alcohol in my system, quite erect.

"What are you doing now?" she asked me with a hint of impatience.

"Putting a condom on," I replied matter-of-factly whilst I rummaged through my trouser pockets.

"You don't need one of them..."

"I think I

do

," I stated.

I finally found it before tearing open the packet and rolled it over my stiffy. I was ready now.

"Switch the lights off will you, Matt. I'm a bit bashful."

...and only about two pints less from being pretty repulsive too,

I wanted to add but didn't.

I strode to the light switch and took a last look at her with only her dark curly haired head sticking out of the covers. I wondered for a second what I was doing there.

Really

doing there. She's possessed lovely olive brown eyes, her father was Italian, but facially she just reminded me of Woody Allen and that was just

not

an attractive look. Her figure, I remembered from shagging her before, wasn't bad. Her nipples were quite dark which I liked. But she was also thick, and intelligence, in a female, is a turn-on for me.

Fuck it.

I flicked the switch, walked back and then clambered under the covers with her.

I'd put my arms round her and put my mouth to hers before sticking my tongue in and grabbing her tight whilst I pressed my hard little prick next to the bare flesh of her torso.

"I knew you'd come back with me," she had exclaimed me with an air of triumph.

I had said nothing, instead I bit one of her nipples with force enough to make her gasp. I then reached down with my right hand to her groin gripping her hairy and damp crutch. I pushed open her legs and mounted her whilst guiding my cock into her cunt - it wouldn't take long, thankfully.

I knew that she would like to have got pregnant by me so that I would have had to marry her. But I never had any intension of that happening - I was just using her till I got someone decent.

I began to thrust hard and started to fantasise about being slippered naked by Miss Shipley, the youngish, blonde, and rather strict French Teacher we had had at High School...

And then I had climaxed but not strongly - the alcohol and condom had combined to take the edge off the sensation.

"That was good, Matt," Janine had cooed.

She was trying to make me feel better about myself because underneath it wasn't that satisfying for her. I didn't really care though.

I slid my rapidly contracting penis out of her vagina and rolled off her before dragging myself out of bed.

"What are you doing now?"

I pulled the rubber easily off my cock, placing it on the floor.

"I'm off home now, Janine."

"Why?" she asked with hurt in her tone.

"I sleep better at home, that's why. Besides my mother and grandmother will worry about me if I'm not back in the morning."

"Got to go home to your...

mummy

then?" she mocked.

"Yep."

"You want to grow up," she added.

"Yep."

"You

promised

me you would stay the night." The injured tone returned.

"I changed my mind."

"

Liar

."

She suddenly twisted in the bed with her back to me.

I turned the light on and began to dress. The flat seemed even more of a tip than before. It depressed me. I also, from the sniffing emanating from her, suspected she was crying.

I finished dressing.

"I'll be off then," I said.

"Just go.

User

."

"Janine?"

"What!"

"I've left the used condom by the bed. You probably don't want to leave it there where your sister can see it."

She didn't answer so I walked out of the flat, closing the door quietly behind me. It was about three in the morning. I then descended the internal staircase before exiting out onto The Strand.

It was quite cold, I hadn't bothered with a coat, and I could see my breath turn to vapour every time I exhaled. Still, it wasn't that far from home, about a fifteen-minute walk.

I'd cut through Ashley Gardens, past the ornamental fishponds, the stone lions and the memorial plaque to the victims of the HMS George tragedy, and then out onto Ryde Esplanade...

The Punch

I clocked him across the smoky and crowded dance floor of the Prince Consort discotheque. He was six foot, a couple of inches taller than me, blond with an athletic build and would have been good looking were it not for the permanent sneer twisting his features. He was eighteen. I was nineteen.

His mates called him Barney and he was a cunt, quite literally, from the wrong side of the tracks across town and he was from a rough family whose reputation he lived off.

He was heading my way because about an hour earlier he had been giving my mate Jeremy a bit of hassle. I had told him to piss off. And he had.

It had been eating him since, he had lost face, I could see that, and with a few more beers in his belly he had come to even the score.

I watched him get closer and had shut out the thumping beat of the music and the dancers and had focussed, though pissed, on what I was going to do.

Had

to do.

Then he was about three feet away with his eyes angrily staring into mine. It was a mistake as he should have been looking at my hands. I'd smiled slightly to deceive him into believing that it was he who was in control and that I was no threat.

"Anytime you..." he'd said.

I smashed my right fist as hard as I could into his face with the intention of pushing his nose into the back of his head and as I did an electric shock of pain shot up my arm. He reeled back in agony brought his hands up to his face and wheeled away.

One hard punch and the cunt had had enough. I kind of felt good about that.

"Okay cool it, lads, just stay cool everybody," said the DJ who had had a grandstand view of the action. He also killed the music.

The dancers stop dancing and slowly realised that something has happened. Barney was over in the corner and one of his mates had his arm round him.

Another one of his pals, quite short and probably underage came up to me and said menacingly: "If you want trouble mate, we'll give you

fucking

trouble!"

I wanted to laugh, though it was swiftly dawning on me that I could have really been in deep shit, because the line sounded right out of a badly scripted gangster movie. I decided to brazen it out - they didn't know me and maybe I really was useful, besides which I took their mate out pretty easily and he was supposed to be tough.

"Look Shorty, it was between him and me, but if you want some of the same then feel free to have a go."

He'd said nothing and had sidled off. The problem was that my hand was really hurting, and I'd wondered if I've broken a finger. I was fucked if there was to be any more fighting.

I opted to get out, but I'd have to do it coolly, if I'd shown any weakness then I would have had it.

I'd then nonchalantly pushed another one of his mates out of the way and made for the back way to the cloakrooms where Jeremy was attempting to chat up the cock-tease of an attendant. I'd got to get him out in case they started on him. At the far end of the club by the entrance I'd just see one of the black suited burly bouncers begin to walk down, presumably called by the DJ.

I was

really

shitting it now inside but I if I could keep my composure, I stood a good chance of getting away with it.

As I stepped off the dance floor a big blond fellow with a petite brunette hanging on his arm said to me: "Who the

fuck

do you think you are?"

I'd just ignored him and had carry on walking. I'd also prayed he didn't come after me.

I strolled down the corridor fairly confident that nobody was following me and saw Jeremy leaning on the door frame of the cloakroom obviously trying to impress the flirty peroxide blonde of an attendant. He'd looked a bit annoyed that I was about to interrupt him, but he'd hadn't got a cat in hells chance of pulling her anyway.

I'd taken him by the arm and out of earshot.

"Jeremy, we have to get out of here. And quick. I've just smacked Barney and we could be in

big

trouble!"

"Uh, right," he said, suddenly realising the seriousness of the situation.

"I want you to act completely normal till we get out of here," I whispered to him. He'd nodded.

We made our way the ten yards or so to the exit. There was only one bouncer there; the other two were probably on the dance floor questioning people. I still couldn't hear any music. Not good.

As I approached the door, I'd feared that at any moment a member of Barney's little group could have just appeared. And we still had to get past the doorman.

The bouncer saw us and to my amazement had swungs open the reinforced glass door. "Early night lads?"

"Well, there's not a lot going on and I've got to work tomorrow. Good night!" I responded breezily.

I'd breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out into the late evening air and had walked up the stone steps to the pavement, the Prince Consort nightclub being below ground level.

As we reached the top of the steps I turned to Jeremy and said: "I think it will probably be a

very

good idea if we sprint back to mine and wait for the furore to die down."

We were both pretty quick runners, but we had only gone about seventy yards when I heard a shout in the distance: "That's him. After them, lads!"

We got to the top of St Thomas's Street and then turned into Spencer Road. We were both badly gasping as we got to my family's house. I'd looked for my pursuers, but we had left them behind, and more importantly they hadn't seen where I lived.

I opened the front door and we had let ourselves in. It was quiet - my mother and grandmother had gone to bed.

"That was close Matt, what happened?"

"I punched Barney in the face before he hit me. I never realised he had so many mates and what's really bad is that I may have damaged my hand. It

really

hurts. I meant to punch him in the nose, but I think I missed and hit him on the cheek. I think I'll leave it a while before paying another visit to the Prince Consort."

We suddenly heard a group of noisy lads pass by outside the window and exchange knowing smiles.

"Fancy a cup of tea Jeremy?"

Yeah, don't mind if I do, Matt."

I filled the kettle and then placed it on the ring of the cooker before lighting the gas...