"Boilk" - A Tale of Cottaging Woe
Monday afternoon to that there London for a job interview with a large broadcast services company.

Sadly, I did so under duress, for the night before I'd eaten a burger of dubious quality, and my journey to the heart of the metropolis was punctuated by frequent trips to the toilet, where I fired the brown laser down the bowl, whilst vomiting into the hand basin.

I made it to the companys very flash offices behind the Royal Courts of Justice in good time, but was suddeny overtaken by the desire to empty my system once again.

Luckily, on the corner of Lincoln's Inn there was a gents' toilet, and I happily bounded into the end cubile and parked myself on the welcoming porcelain.

What I didn't know at the time, said shitter is a well-known cottaging spot, where London's legal types go for furtive pink oboe solos.

I only found this out when a rock hard phallus was poked through the partitition wall at head height.

How rare.

I sat there, world falling out of my arse and wanting to die as the cock's owner wiggled it hopefully.

Then I was sick.

"YAAAAAAAAAAARCH!"

Rich, brown vomit all over the disembodied prick .

"Ooooh!" came a voice from the other side.

Closely followed by "AAAAAAAAARGH!", and the sound of extreme panic as my pervy friend fled for his life.

I didn't get the job.

[Alternative, completely made-up ending:

I arrived in the offices and, my stomach settling at last, was eventually ushered into the interview room.

"Sorry we're running a bit late," said the chief, "I had to change my trousers".

THE END]
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 14:27, 2 replies)

Its got cock, its got vomit
its as damn near to perfect as Kylie Minogue's pert little arse. Nice one!
( SpankyHanky, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 17:11, closed)

Sick, but not inna hedge for once
Click!
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 0:36, closed)