10 Cuthbert's Road, Kilburn, North London, July 1971:
Reginald Groat took the whistling kettle off the gas flame, took off the whistling lid and filled the tea pot. He stirred the brew through vaporising steam, replaced the teapot lid and covered the pot with a tea cosy his mum bought him on his last birthday; he'd turned twenty-seven then. He took the cosy-covered pot to the small kitchen table and placed it next to his tea mug, buttered toast and a plate of bacon and egg, with a side of mushrooms. He poured his tea and tucked into his breakfast.
When breakfast was done Reginald cleared the table, poured himself another brew and opened his journal at yesterday's entry and read it:
"Thursday 17 July 1971
I woke at 07.30 early morning time: The usual. It's strange, I woke with another erection this morning and it was huge and solid, unusually big for me. I had the urge to masturbate, but I resisted. Ever since I saw that blue light when I went on Hampstead Heath to bat watch three nights ago, I have had dreams of blue ladies dancing naked around blue flames; I woke up after I first dreamt of dancing blue ladies with my hand wrapped around my manhood, I was masturbating madly, but before I could stop myself, I ejaculated, it felt like I had shot a bucket full of warm cum, my hand and sheets were sticky and wet. It felt wonderfully great. It made me shout out with pleasure; it made me think of fucking; these blue ladies made me horny.
It's now 01.30 afternoon time: I'm still thinking of naked blue ladies and it makes me hard. I feel frustrated because I feel the need to cavort with these blue fairies, yes, erotic blue fairies. Why do I feel this way???? I done a strange thing this morning, which maybe I'm ashamed of, but I enjoyed it immensely. I was thinking of the blue fairies after I ate breakfast, and I got unusually big and hard, it wouldn't go down, so I masturbated a little, then I started pulling and jerking it, like I wanted to pull it off. I yanked and pulled with my right hand and I caressed my balls with my left. All I could think of was naked blue fairies; with soft blue breasts with big dark-blue nipples and well-trimmed blue pussies. I was buzzing with excitement. I wanted to fuck my blue pussy, my blue fairy. It was driving me mad. I stripped off my clothes and looked at myself in my bedroom mirror. I looked okay, but my hard on looked magnificent. Big and hard, it looked as if it could knock down any fucking door, a sexual battering ram. I ran to the kitchen, my hard on bouncing like a huge rubber truncheon. I pumped it a couple of times on the move. I filled a cup with water from the kitchen tap and ran back to the bedroom, my rubber truncheon bouncing up and down, the blue naked fairies cavorting in my mind's eye. I took out my water colour paint set and painted my hard cock blue. I looked at it in the mirror, my balls hung white, so I painted them too. I watched myself wank when the paint had dried, I wanked my blue truncheon with vigour. It felt great, but there was still something not right. I stopped wanking and painted my hand blue. I wanked my blue cock without letting the paint dry on my hand. I wanked and wanked and the blue paint on my cock became wet again. My cock was all blue and wet. I imagined I was fucking my blue fairy. My cock spat blue and white cum at my reflection, it was like I exploded in a Punnet of blueberries. Aaaaarrrr Little Piece, I crooned.... who's Little Piece????"
Reginald stopped reading and drank his tea pensively. 'What's happening to me,' he thought to himself. 'I've never behaved like this or used this kind of language in my writing before.' Reginald finished his tea as he re-read yesterday's journal entry.
Reginald was an amateur wildlife writer. He was writing about bats when he visited Hampstead Heath three nights ago just after dusk fall. He sat on a bench, not far from the ponds and watched the small bats darting about hunting insects. He spotted a blue light in the woods passed the grass clearing he was sitting in. He stared at it and had an over whelming pull toward it, but stayed seated, he stared at it for some time, then it faded and disappeared. Reginald scanned the woods for the blue light, but it was gone. That night he dreamed of erotic blue fairies.
Reginald finished reading yesterday's entry and began an entry for today.
"Friday 18 July 1971
I woke at 07.30 early morning time: as usual. I woke with another big hard on. But this time it was all sticky, and the sheets were wet, I had ejaculated in my sleep, a wet dream, never had one before, I was dreaming about a blue fairy; she was beautiful, she made me cum with her soft blue lips. I can't stop thinking about her. I think her name is Little Piece. I said that name out of the blue yesterday when I climaxed after masturbating and shot blue coloured cum everywhere.
I think it's connected to the blue light I had seen on Hampstead Heath when I was bat watching. I don't know how it's connected. But to me right now, as crazy as it seems to me, even crazier as I see the words on paper, but it's the only connection I can make from this beautiful madness.
