they’re a bunch of fucking natives, and they spout all this hippie shit about self-discovery and journeys into my soul and what-not. i nod politely and agree, but just so as to be polite. i don’t want to offend them, but its all a load of crap as far as i’m concerned. i’m here for the trip of my life. i’ve heard about these mushrooms, ever since i started taking drugs. the most powerful hallucinogenic on the planet. the trip of a lifetime. they are legendary and until now, i wasn’t even sure they existed at all.
i look at the pile of goo the old woman spits onto the plate. i understand why she has to chew the mushrooms first. she has been doing this for years, and there are enzymes in her saliva that will break down the mushrooms and prevent me from vomiting too much. novices have died, choking on their own puke, from not understanding this. i have travelled thousands of miles for this trip. i have done acid and psilocybin and peyote until i could go to work tripping on all three. i need more. i need the ultimate trip and, if what i have heard is right, this is it.
i hold my disgust at bay and swallow the muck on the plate. the actual flavour revolts me, and its not her spit, its just the ‘shrooms, they taste like the bitter flavour of hell. they all smile and mutter some dumb native prayer. within minutes the nausea hits me like a tsunami hits a beach hut. they have to hold me up over a large bowl as what looks and feels like everything i ever ate explodes through my mouth and nose. my head erupts and my body shakes and i vomit with such force that i am barely able to hear their stupid prayers. suddenly it stops, as violently as it had started, and almost immediately the hallucinations begin. they are like acid hallucinations at first, shapes forming from random patterns. i see dragons and belly dancers form and disappear from the smoke bellowing from the old man’s pipe. i see a forests grow and die in the plaids of the old woman’s hair, and then the hallucinations take over my vision completely.
i am no longer in their disgusting mud hut but in a large ballroom in a great mansion. expensive and beautiful things glisten all around me. i can still hear the old man’s voice, and he is asking me, with some urgency where i am. i tell him i am in a house. “what kind of house?” he asks.
“a huge house.” i hear my disembodied voice tell him, “a fucking castle.”
“you are both lucky and unlucky.” he tells me, “this is your soul. some people’s souls are tiny little apartments and their subconscious, nothing more than a damp basement, but castles have dungeons, not cellars. you need to go down there.”
‘whatever.’ i think, i’m here to get off my tits, and across the room from me are ten of the sexiest women i have ever seen. they are barely dressed and are dancing and beckoning me to join them. my cock throbs with anticipation. i knew this was gonna be good and i hope that i don’t wake to find that i have wanked off in front of the silly old natives. fuck my subconscience!
“you won’t be able to hear me for much longer,” the old man’s fading voice rattles in my head, “you need to go downstairs. you need to enter the dungeon of your mind. you need to face your demons. you won’t get another chance.” there is something in the urgency of his voice that makes me hesitate.
‘maybe a quick peek’ i think. what harm can it do? these girls will still be here when i get back.
the door is locked with a large padlock. it crumbles at my touch and i imagine that i think i hear him say
“that is all i can do for you.” the door swings open and i am hit with the darkness and the stench. it smells of fear and hate and anger and ugliness. i step into the cold dark horror. almost immediately, terror grabs me by the throat and threatens to choke me. i turn back, but the door is no more. panic smacks me in the face like a cricket bat, and i realise that i have no choice but to descend.
the stairs are rickety and feel like they want to throw me into the unknown abyss below me. i find a candle and light it but its almost like the stink of fear prevents it illuminating anything other than the next few steps. its like fear itself has blinded me. as i descend and explore, doors creak and some slam, inexplicably behind me. i am too consumed with fear to even look back in case those doors too have disappeared. i curse the old man. i scream “you cunt!” at the top of my voice. the echoes ring in my ears for minutes, until I believe the words are for me, and far below me i hear the snarl of a hungry demon that i fear i have woken.
i work my way down the stairs, at times treading on and crushing things that feel horribly human. i dare not look down to see. then i tread on something that squeals in pain and i start. i fall backwards and plummet, god knows how far, and land with a soul-shaking thump on what feels like bones. the candle is gone. pitch blackness, and terror surrounds me and closes in on me like a gang of satan’s hungry children. the howls of desperate rage and pain from the demon become my only direction, and as i crawl away in an attempt to cower, i feel my knees cut open. there are shards of glass all over the floor. i pick a particularly long and sharp one and attempt to regain my courage.
i edge my way, blind, around the wall until i find its door. i piss myself literally as i swing it open.
it is huge and has its back to me but i can see it is horrific. it spins and snarls, and if there was anything left in my bladder it would have fled my body in an attempt to flee. i see the demon is chained but as it turns and faces me, the rage in its eyes has such fury that it breaks its bonds without a single thought.
it knows me, and i know it. trembling, i hold my pathetic shard of glass in my hand. knowing full well that i can never kill such a monster. our eyes meet and we see each other. tears stream from the demons eyes and its chest heaves with decades of non-stop sobbing. i see that despite how horrific this beast has become, that it is me. a forgotten me, a neglected me. an innocent, child me that has been hidden from even my view. giant, grotesque and locked away. growing more ugly by the day.
i drop the weapon, not from fear but from pity. this monster doesn’t need slaying, it needs to be hugged, and nurtured and freed from his prison of lies and hurt.
i wake to find myself still in the hut. the wise old folk absorbed by breaking bad. they hear my sobbing, and without turning, they smile.
the last few weeks and days of my life have transformed me, like very few periods in my life ever have. maybe when my son died, or maybe when he was born, but little else in my life has caused me to define and redefine myself as much as the last few days and weeks have. i have lost friends and gained friends. i have had a punch up on the street with one of my best mates, and i have not had a punch up in decades. i have learned a lot about myself and a lot of it i wish i hadn’t. i have had to look at myself hard and admit things i don’t like. i am shallow and fickle and very selfish. i am proud and arrogant and stupid. i have had to look at myself very hard, in a way that made me realise that i am deep and serious and not what i just said. i am as stupid as i am clever. i am a walking contradiction. i can feel real and deep hurt, but i have a capacity to hurt others that exceeds that, and i do not like that about me. i’ve made new friends but lost old ones. i have had to redefine some friendships and redefine how i see myself. i have reconnected with some and disconnected with others. i have seen people change and i have changed. ‘life is like a great wave,’ a one legged surfer’s ex once said to me, ‘try to control the wave and it will crush you, all you can do is read it and ride it’. i have grown and i have shrunk, and growing is the more painful and difficult. i have lost and i have found, and sadly i have learned more from what i have lost, although i am learning right now that if my neighbour does not turn his music down, i am going to find my cricket bat and he is going to lose some teeth.
To all of you here,
I wish a happy new year.
Have a cold glass of beer
With those you hold dear,
And please let me hear
If your life is severe,
For you are my peer,
And i want you so near.
Please go spread some cheer
With your loved ones, so dear,
And spend your next year
Without any fear.
One thing that is clear
Is that there are
Too many words
That rhyme with year.
I’ll quit while i’m ahead
And wish you all
A bloody good one!
share a winter’s day with me
shiver and chatter
watch frost and hail
share blankets and kisses
and fuel bills
have sex in front of the tv
In six score hours
we will finally kiss
for the very,
very first time.
will eventually meet,
although our hearts
entwined long since,
with magical words
that flew through space;
love at the speed
My soul gets erect
that i think
we will kiss,
in six score hours
you called my name
in the pouring rain
and as i came,
you called my name.
i called you hon
as i made you come
with my flickering tongue,
i called you hon.
you called me mew
as you made my cock spew
all over you,
you called me mew.
i called you rose
in the orgasmic throws
of me squirting like a hose,
i called you rose.
our first kiss, at the arrivals terminal, was electric and aroused both our passions instantly to near boiling point, and as we squeezed onto the crowded Piccadilly line train you could feel my erection, through my trousers, pressing into your behind. there was only one spare seat, so i took it and you sat on my lap, piling your various items of luggage on your knees to make room for the throng of standing passengers. my cock pushed up between your soft, gently squeezing thighs. it was an end seat an the woman to our right was engrossed in conversation with the man on her right, and your bags and parcels made a perfect shield against any of the standers seeing as i inched your skirt slowly up over your ass, pulled your panties to one side and slid a finger deep into your soaking, hot pussy. you knew exactly what to do and lifted up while i got my cock out, draped from view by your flowing skirt, and when you sat back down it plunged deep into your waiting depth, making us both shudder and gasp uncontrollably.
there was no need for us to move, as the juddering of the carriage, as it hurtled down the tunnel, jiggled and shook you on top of me. it was quite an unnatural sensation but exhilarating as the train rocked and bounced you on and off my throbbing shaft. at some points the carriage would jolt vigorously and repeatedly, lifting you almost off my cock completely before slamming you back down onto it, at others, the train just shuddered and trembled, it was like sitting inside a giant vibrator.
we had waited months for this and we could have very easily come within a few minutes, if it weren’t for the fact that every couple of minutes the tube came to a halt at a station, teasing us and prolonging our ecstasy for nearly the entire hour long journey. we sat in those stations, sometimes on the very brink of orgasm, trying not to move or breath too hard, my prick deep inside you, pulsing as your dripping pussy squeezed it.
you realised that the stranger stood right in front of us had realised what we are up to, when you saw his trousers begin to bulge and fill and when you looked up, he stared right down at your flushed face and winked, he knew exactly what we were doing. his growing erection was only inches from your hands as they clasped the parcels on your lap, and you watched as it came to full mast and bulged forcefully against the thin cotton like a wild beast demanding release from a cage. you could so easily reach out and touch it.
the stranger allowed the swaying of the carriage to push himself nearer to you, brushing his impressive cock against your knuckles, it felt like something made of rock in there, and when more passengers board, he used this to squeeze closer to you and let his long coat hang down on either side, shielding what you did next from view. with me still pumping deep inside you, my fingers digging into your butt, you unzipped him and slid your hand inside, clasping his bursting cock greedily. it was magnificent, not particularly long but so thick and hard that you could barely get you hand round it.
we were only two stops from home when the three of us came, after a long series of powerful judders, that took us to an explosive and thick and deep climax. thanks to the screeching brakes we were all able to cry out undetected, except for the woman to my right who shot me a filthy look when the words “holy fuck yes!” escaped unbidden from my mouth.
the stranger got off one stop before us, his coat now buttoned to conceal the large stain, and we never saw him again.
anyway son, that’s why we called you Piccadilly.
the three of us are naked. you kneel on the bed, staring wide-eyed at us, in the middle of our bedroom, as our cocks begin to thicken and lengthen and twitch their way to fully and eagerly erect. you have, in your hand, a leather riding crop. you are not intending on using it, providing that is, that we both do exactly what we’re told. you remind us of this and tingle with pleasure to see us both get a little stiffer with your words.
exactly as you tell us, we step towards each other and kiss. tentatively at first but with growing passion, as we arouse to the sound of your soft moans and giggles of pleasure. i see, from the corner of my eye, your hand slip down between your legs as i press myself against him and feel the hot, throb of his cock against mine. you beckon for me to drop to my knees, his large, proud cock, bouncing less than an inch from my face. i know what you want me to do, even before you ask me, and i run my tongue, slowly and leisurely all the way up his magnificent, pulsing length, caressing the tip by lapping my tongue in tantalising circles around it, tasting his sweet, sticky pre-cum and embracing it with my open mouth and lips.
you have never done anything like this before and your voice trembles with excitement as i take him deeper into my mouth, my hands grasping his powerful ass cheeks and sliding up and down his thighs and back and sides. you moan with delight, and your fingers slip deep inside yourself as he places his hand on my head and, bit by bit, coaxes more and more of his steel-like length further into my mouth with each thrust of his hips. you slide your wet fingers over your taut nipples as you watch him come deep in my throat, ready for what is to happen next, moaning deeply with delight as his cum dribbles from my lips.
you lay back on the bed with us either side of you, two mouths and four hands gliding over every inch of your lightly quivering body, our hot pricks pressed and pulsating hard into your yielding flesh, tasting your glorious pussy as we lick at and suck your erect nipples. our fingers devour your soaking, wet delight, taking it in turns to either rub at your clit or slide in and out of you. your back arches with animal desire, your eyes closed in ecstasy and your mouth gaping, red and panting. you almost weep with pleasure when you feel both our fingers inside you anda raging, rock-like prick in each hand.
you can barely speak, for animal desire, when you tell me to fuck you, and as i climb onto you, thrusting your thighs fiercely apart, he positions himself behind me. i rub my bursting tip up and down the length of your begging pussy and he rubs his hot, sticky cock up and down my crack. as i position myself to enter you, he does the same, and in one primal, movement, i enter you and he enters me. the three of us writhe, a sea of thrusting members and deep red depths, limbs and hands everywhere, and in a frenzy of mouths and sweat and dirty words, we all come together in long, hard thrusts and fingers buried deep into flesh, filling you and me with hot, spurting juices.
afterwards we lay in a naked puddle of cum and giggles and kisses and satisfied smiles and he asks if he can deliver pizza to us again sometime.