'What the fuck is that smell?' April asked herself, brushing off the thought that the stench might possibly be coming from her. But it became abundantly clear as the smell wafted outward in all-consuming waves, filling the room with the scent of death and rot, that it was in fact April's puss that was causing the unpleasantness.
'Don't come in my mouth,' she prefaced in her usual way. So, of course, what did Brad proceed to do mere moments later? The crime we all know and hate; they come in your mouth anyway.
Was he too drunk to get it up? Stage fright? Overwhelmed by the expectations of the beautiful companion he was now going to try to pleasure? We can't be certain. Whatever the reason though, Daniel's lank willy hang there totally nonplussed.
At this point any number of things were rotating around Jenny's drink-addled mind. Had I let him have sex with me unprotected? If so, is he riddled with more STDs than a Tudor man living in a whore house? Did he tell them he did me up the arse? Oh God, Oh God! On and on her wicked little mind worked itself into a frenzy.
And then he came. And he came. And he came. And just when she thought he could have no drop of fluid left within him...
I looked down; my boob was a little swollen but that was actually a joy to see - anything adding volume to the chest was welcome. But the swelling couldn't be causing that discomfort? It was coming from my nipple, the very tip of my nipple. I turned my head down to inspect further and saw a tiny stream of pinkish, diluted blood running down my ribs and pooling in my belly button before sliding its final descent to the drain below. Where was that coming from?
For those who are blithely, and fortunately, unaware of what this affliction is, Bell's Palsy is where one half of your face simply stops moving.
The distinction between a father and a Dad has long been verbalised and it is common knowledge that it is relatively easy to become a father; a few jerks and a squirt and nine months later a little XX or XY chromosome carrying mixture crowns the cervix into life. That is where being a father ceases. However, to be a Dad implies a more moralistic and emotional investment – in short, it means you give a little more of a shit about the life of that little beast that carries half your DNA.