PSYCHO SYD'S FIRST BLIND DATE IN 2013 AFTER HE WAS LEFT ALONE FIGHTING CANCER. WARNING SOME SEXUAL STUFF-DON'T READ IF YOU ARE PRUDISH!
The last thing on my normally one track mind was a romantic date for starters, a bit of slap and tickle for the main course followed by a peck on the cheek and goodbye for dessert. However, I was buzzing at the prospect of having a bit of banter and a laugh with this scouse crossword fanatic. Although, I had not got a clue whether I would pluck up the courage to meet her in the flesh.
I eventually grew a pair of sphericals and boldly agreed to come together with this long-haired lover from Liverpool for a pub lunch and a short and sweet saunter along the beach. I was only too aware that the female of the species is more deadly than the male but the reckless daredevil in me provided the spunky bravado to escape my 4 walls and make contact with this potential black widow.
We arranged to rub eyeballs one Saturday afternoon after Eugene had kindly volunteered to take care of Jo. I looked almost presentable in my faded blue jeans, black tee shirt, trainers and olive green army jacket. I didn’t have a bunch of flowers, a packet of ribbed condoms or a victory V because love and lust were the last things on my broken-hearted mind. I don’t have no time for no monkey business. I was still yelping from the Wicked One’s abuse so no fair-maiden was permitted anywhere near my heart or any other bits of my anatomy thank you very much. I should be so lucky! Although you never know; some girls may have a fetish for death warmed up monsters!
My bag of bones wasn’t a bag of nerves as I cruised to The Wirral near Liverpool for this mysterious rendezvous. I sang along to tunes by Merseyside bands such as: The La’s, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Zutons and The Teardrop Explodes. I was a cool beatnik full of pep as I drove up to the meeting place to eyeball my blind date. Bet she will be wishing she was blind once she takes just one peep at my unsightly look of death.
When we laid eyes on each other it was instant attraction; love and lust at first ogle. The chemistry was pure Goldilocks; just right! Time to experiment! Well the red horny devil smiled in triumph at the conquered white celibate angel. Shit, I should have brought the flowers and condoms after all. We held hands and ambled to her 2 up 2 down terrace house just 5 minutes away for a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Are friends electric?
While I was sipping the caffeine and inhaling the nicotine my lusty libido was burning with the hots! The heat is on and my sex is on fire. I gazed into her smoky eyes and speculated, “You will you won’t. You do you don’t. You may you might.” I didn’t have long to ponder because her lips like sugar pressed against my eager mouth. She clutched my hot-blooded hand and escorted me upstairs as my craving eyeballs were focused on her sexy derriere in skin tight black jeans. Wow, there she goes! I licked my sugar coated northern monkey lips as I eagerly followed ready and willing to accept my reward.
I am not going into the full graphic details and supply you all the ‘ins and outs’ of this passionate encounter but I am sure you can close your eyes and imagine. No naughty self-pleasing though coz you have this book to finish.
To cut a long story short we entered her clean cosy boudoir and made passionate lust for 30 minutes. Afterwards she gazed into my sleepy eyes and softly smiled, “That was amazing Syd.”
I winked cockily and bragged, “Believe it or not I am even better the second time around.”
Her eyes widened with hero worship as she gleefully squealed “really?”
I grinned and replied, “Yes but I need a 20-minute nap first and while I am having 40 winks you must hold onto my naughty bits and never let go. Is that OK?”
She seemed puzzled but happily agreed. After the short snooze, I was revived and up for the repeat performance to conclude the double-whammy. When the encore came to an end, she purred, “
That was magnificent. Even better than the first time. One thing confuses me though; why did you ask me to hold your private parts while you were sleeping?
I smiled as I informed her, “Oh that is because the last time I slept with a Liverpool girl she stole my wallet.”
Hahaha. I bet I had you going, there, didn’t I? It is just one of my off the wall jokes. I apologise for being a naughty fibber. Merely my warped sense of humour. I blame it on the chemotherapy. I better let the pussy out of the bag and give you the low down on what really took place that cloudy day in Merseyside before you fling the book in the rubbish bin.
This is the honest to God’s truth. Cross my heart and hope to die. I parked my car and saw her standing there. Shock, shock, horror, horror, shock, shock. What in tarnation? I wasn’t expecting movie stars and swimming pools but she was a dead ringer for Grandma out of the Beverley Hill Billies. In all honesty, she was younger than me and just a normal woman in her forties. The naked truth was that my Peter Pan lifestyle in south-east Asia being eternally surrounded by beautiful young Tinkerbells and Wendy Darlings had distorted reality. Welcome back to the real-world Psycho Syd.
Viewing the event from her perspective, her grey matter must have screamed, “Good Lord! It is the ‘visitor from the grave’ straight out of the Hammer House of Horror! She was more than likely thinking, “Frankenstein and Dracula have nothing on you. Jekyll and Hyde join the back of the queue."
In any case, love and lust weren’t on my list of tasks to accomplish today and I was cocksure that they weren’t on hers either. I was here to escape the daily grind!
We popped into a local pub and plopped our bums down on a wooden bench in the empty beer garden as we regurgitated tales of heartbreak, betrayal and loss, blow by blow. Her ex was a cheating pisshead and mine was a cheating fucking bastard as you already know. I slurped a vegan soup as she masticated on a hot dog. A short while later we dilly-dallied along the beach chirping away like two broken-hearted love birds. We gulped breaths of fresh healthy salty sea air between the drags of filthy unhealthy tar and nicotine.
We then diddle-daddled to her humble abode and dawdled in her back-yard choking on cancer sticks as we nattered away. Out of the sky blue her mouth ejaculated, " Syd, one thing I do miss is sex." My jolted eyeballs almost jumped out of their sockets and I nearly shat myself too! I simply nodded and responded, "Me too." Could it be that this liver bird has a kink about scary monsters, my unscrewed head sweated? I was scared stiff! Be that as it may I was not up for a slice of monster mash in this black widow’s boudoir. Under the circumstances, I made my excuses in a shot and got my busy blue arsed fly’s body out of her web and flew to the safety of my car with my tail between my legs.
Thank goodness, the wheels were still on my car; well Liverpool does have a reputation you know. I put the pedal to the metal and burnt rubber back to my 4 walls.
On reflection, a satisfying time was had and it was gratifyingly enjoyable partaking in a spot of friendly chit-chat with this lovely lady. In all fairness, her unforeseen jaw-dropping remark regarding sex may well have been just that; a comment and not a flirtatious nudge for me to drop my ball-hugging black jeans for a period of wham bam thank you mam. Perhaps my once bitten twice shy state of mind is making me paranoid!
Three weeks later a letter arrived regarding that day in Mickey Mouse (Scouse) land. It wasn’t a love letter but a document putting me in the picture that a speed camera had snapped me driving over the speed limit in Liverpool. I had my naughty cheeky arse smacked as karma whipped up a bored shitless day at a speed awareness course.
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