Indecent Proposal
It gets lonely out on the road.

For a while I used to work as a rep for a large insurance firm (woo, rock n roll). I'd spend lots of time in various travel lodges the length and bredth of the county.

On several occasions I'd have a travelling companion, someone to help pitch whatever twattery we were attempting to sell to whatever fat Jabba-the-Hut bastard happened to be sat behind the desk in the comfy chair at the time.

On one such occasion I worked with a lad from Leeds named Phil. Nice bloke, salt of the earth type of fella who was always up for a bit of a laugh. Used too much fucking hair gel, though.

I recall one night we were in a low budget hotel on the outskirts of Bristol. Through some devine intervention we'd actually managed to sell some insurance-related shite to someone earlier, had hit our sales target for the trip, and had spent the best part of the evening getting well and truly shitfaced.

After a very heavy session in the bar we stagger back to our room. A twin, two single beds, as our company were too tight to fork out for individual rooms.

I collapse on my bed, manage to take my shirt and trousers off whilest horizontal, and shrug the duvet over my drunken form. I imagine Phil does likewise, its not as if I'm paying him much attention.

With the lights out I start my usual nightly routine, I grab my cock and start tugging away, just to get him hard as it just seems to help me sleep better if I nod off with a raging hard on.

But I'm pissed, the five-finger knuckle shuffle feels good, very good.

Thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap

Now usually if I'm sharing a room with another rep I have the decency to wank quietly. But on this night I was really too pissed to care.

But then I realize there's an echo in the room, a beat after my:

Thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap

I hear a corresponding thwappage coming from the other bed.

I stop polishing the pork sword instantly. I've suddenly developed the hearing of Superman. I strain and yes, definately:

Thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap

"Phil? Are you having a wank?" I ask. Suddenly the thought of finishing myself off is a distant memory. The thought of Phil laying a couple of feet away from me wrestling with his love python was incredibly off putting. Ok, I was doing the same thing, but that's different. I'm allowed to wank. In my case its almost always medicinal.

I hear Phil's whispered reply:

"Yeah, Spanky... Are you too?"

"Erm, I was..."

There's a long pause. Then Phil whispers something incredibly fucking horrifying to me, something that is just wrong and made my arsehole pucker up as if someone had just squirted lemon juice up my chocolate starfish.

Phil said:

"Shall I do you and you do me?"

I had to think about that for a while. I wanted to ask if he'd been to public school, or why the fuck he thought I'd be interested in having his grizzly, hair hands stroking my love wand. And the thought of pulling Phil off was just wrong, I mean, I'd share a can of Coke with the fella, but I wouldn't want his spunk all over my hands.

I simply whispered back:

"No. You're alright, Phil. Think I'll pass on that."

And the strange thing was, the next morning when we were both nursing respective tequila-induced hangovers, not a single word was spoken about it.

And never has been since.
( SpankyHanky, Mon 16 Mar 2009, 10:42, 2 replies)

You should...
try everything once.
(Otter as serious as cancer, Mon 16 Mar 2009, 13:08, closed)

...apart from incest and morris dancing
as some sage once said.

*EDIT* and being wanked off by an insurance rep called Phil.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Mon 16 Mar 2009, 13:27, closed)