The Sexual Monologues: 3.iv – April

'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.

The Sexual Monologues: 3.iii – Kelly

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.

The Sexual Monologues: 3.ii – Jenny

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.

The Sexual Monologues: I – Slippery Nipple

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?

Bell’s Palsy

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 Biological Father Fiasco

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.

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