Mangoes Into A Bar

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W A R N I N G – T M I

This post contains
UNCOMFORTABLE LEVELS OF SHARING

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Dear Reader,

Princess is at the Queen Vic Market with a girlfriend, buying fresh mangoes and such.

Sybylla is in the front room, playing guitar hero in her Rock Slut undies and my Kylie tour t-shirt.

I’m in my studio, pottering on Sylvia, my computer. I insert my new-for-09 thumbdrive into her eager slot and i’m plodding through the stupidly complicated password software when i impatiently hit <ENTER> instead of mouse-clicking the totally redundant unlock-second-confirmation lozenge. The removable-drive <play media> dialog lurking in the background responds and starts playing a WMV file.

Turns out it’s a forty megabyte, nine minute instructional video on female masturbation i downloaded as a freebie from ifeelmyself.com for, um, research purposes, sometime back in November. Seems i promptly forgot about it straight after downloading it, and it’s sat on my old thumbdrive, and then been copied to my new one, and i didn’t even remember i had it. I’ve never even watched it.

So the scene unfolding before me is all a pleasant surprise.

I pause the video when the girl giving the demonstration of how she likes to pleasure herself to orgasm (twice, it turns out) takes off her jeans, and i go to get myself a Milo.

Because it’s marvellous what a difference Milo makes.

I settle back down with my Milo to watch the rest, taking careful note of the things that she likes, and things i haven’t … um … taking note of any interesting and novel things she does to herself that i don’t already have in my extensive notes on the subject.

It is for research, after all, this video.

In the frontroom, Sybylla is working hard on perfecting the bass riff for Blondie’s One way or another.

It’s a very educational video (the female masturbation one, not the Blondie clip) and i’m appreciating it quite a bit. Then the bass line in the front room stops and i hear Sybylla talking to someone.

Princess is home, unexpectedly early, from the Market.

I pause and minimise WMP safely to the taskbar.

Princess bursts into the studio a second later, smiling, summer sunlight still crackling in her hair. She closes the door behind her.

« Hey! I’m back! Look what i brought you… »

She lifts her top and flashes me her mangoes.

Then she sits, beaming, in the other desk chair, and does a spin, woo-ooing like an old school fire siren.

« So watcha doin’? » she asks as her rotations start to slow.

« Just research, » i shrug.

« You and your research! » she pouts. « You’re on holidays. You should be relaxing, having fun. »

Sybylla opens the door, pulls my Kylie t-shirt over her head and tosses it to me. I catch it. It smells of her, even sitting in my lap. She makes a token post-”i-spent-half-a-day-topless-sunbathing-with-you” effort to cover the girls with her arm. « I’m having my shower now, OK? » And she closes the door.

I suddenly wonder if i used to be a backpack bomber or something, and these are my rewards in the afterlife.

Princess stage-whispers, « Quick, while she’s in the shower… » and i’m afraid the veil of modesty draws over the next quarter hour or so, dear Reader.

Then we had lunch. Salad wraps, with mango. They were yummy.

Yours,
Gullybogan