External Link/Members OnlyThey fuck you up your mum and dad
Our parents can show us a lot of things: they can show us how we are to be and what things we ought to strive for, or they can show us how not to be and what things we ought to stray from, then you may have the kind of parents that show you all the things about you that you want to get rid of and you realise that those traits aren’t yours at all but are merely your parents’ marks and smudges which have rubbed off onto you. All parents damage their children. It is just the way of things. Youth, like clean glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, so bad, so bad that you cannot put them back together again, ever.
From around 11 years old, I entertained myself with my fathers collection of pornography and i would spend many a happy hour during the late 1970s wanking myself over copies of Fiesta or Escort or Men Only magazines. My dad also had a collection of weird sex toys some of which he had made himself - anal probes, dildos, strap ons - it was all quite fascination. And then he changed the locks on the garage, so that little avenue of pleasure was shut off to me. However, it set me on a trajectory that I have never been able to shake off properly. My dad was a serial bladderiser and serial shagger. He was always shagging hookers. My mum must’ve known about it. And look at me, talk about the Apple not landing far from the tree or whatever that phrase is. But i am a fully paid up up pervert, and it it would easy to blame my parents, but we all make our choices in life, do we not ?
And I cannot stop thinking about this and thinking about my introduction to sex and thinking about hookers arse holes and eating them out. And all I can think about is doing this and so I ring up Directors Lodge in Pinxton and I know that they have a new girl on today called Scarlet. I love the name Scarlet, it sounds dirty already and I speak to the receptionist and she is dead enthusiastic and keen and I ask about the pictures and she assured me that they are definitely accurate and proper pics of Scarlet.
So I think, ‘fuck it’, I’m dying for perverted sex, my cock is dripping and so I get in the car and next thing I’m driving over to Pinxton, which generally is a shit hole and the Directors Lodge has had a Fred West type makeover and the builders and decorators have been knocking about, but to be honest it is more than fit for purpose. And I pay up the £12 and the receptionist roles out that little bit of paper role on the bed which is eventually destined to clean up the piss, spunk, drool and vomit. I begin wanking over a lesbian porn magazine - both girls eating out each other’s shitters, and it reminds me of the type of porn I used to wank over in my dads porn collection. The only difference back then were the girls didn’t have lip fillers, Botox, bolt on tits and asses, and they had hairy cunts. I can’t remember the last time a saw a hairy cunt on a girl. I prefer it nowadays, it looks better.
By this stage, I’ve entertained myself with 4x30 seconds sniffs of poppers and in walks Scarlett in all her finery and guess what - the photos are defo of her, she takes one look at me drooling saliva like a stroke victim on the bed and pulls a face, she gets the drift of things from my eyes rolling back and the saliva dribbling out of the corner of me mouth. She knows I am a pervert. She takes the bottle and gives me a 30 second hit of poppers and then she gets on all fours and asks me to eat out her ass hole. So I’m in there with proper diligence and enthusiasm, doing a proper job, whilst she is asking me to go deeper and I must have most of my tongue wedged up her shitter. My dad would be dead proud of me. She then asked me to break off and she tells me to take more poppers and then go to work on her pussy. Fucking amazing really. She’s tanned all over and looks like the kind of bird you would see on the 900s when they were on the go.
And then she gets me on all fours and she’s restraining my balls with one hand whilst running her finger nails up and down my cock with the other and whilst this is going on she’s telling me to take a number of poppers countdowns and I’m now sniffing from both nostrils and she is telling me what a dirty, depraved, sad fucking loser I am with a whole raft of personal issues and regrets in life and missed opportunities and failed relationships and that’s why I have to pay girls like her for fucking. She’s not far off the mark actually if I’m honest with myself.
She then gets me to sit up so she can dribble saliva into my mouth and whilst she is doing this, she says that next time I see her she will get another bloke in to fuck me in the arse. I’m sure that’s what she said, but I am completely fucked up by this stage, so who knows. She then alternates between choking me and giving me poppers and shoving her finger nail down the end of my cock and fucking it with her finger. And she is choking me to the point of passing out and we’ve been at this for about 25 mins and I know I need to come, so what I get her to do, and loved this, was to get her to twerk her ass on my cock and she did this and I lasted about 5-8 seconds and I shot a load of spunk out and some of it landed on my chin and I thought I was going to pass out proper, but came round and it was a proper good session.
Scarlett looks a bit worried but I’m ok and then she asks me if that was any good, and I’m like yeah, it was alright, we can definitely build on this, and she looks quite pleased. And I have to wait a bit until I’m ok to leave, but then I am outside and in the car £82 lighter and I wonder how many times my old dad did this, how many times he lied, how many times he felt any guilt or remorse.
I wonder whether when he first held me, he thought he would want me to not be like him. This thing which probably followed him throughout his life like a black dog.
I caught my dad out.
And when a child first catches a parent out. When the child realises that the parent does not always have the right moral core or Devine intelligence, that their judgements are not always wise, their thinking true - the child’s world falls into panic and desolation. The gods have fallen. And there is one thing about the fall of gods - they do not fall a little, they crash and they shatter into the smallest pieces. They cannot ever be built back up again. It is a tedious job. My dad never shined again. And my world was never quite wholesome again.
And so on the drive back home, I try to recall the Philip Larkin poem....
They fuck you up your mum and dad
They may not mean to
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you
