112. Pearly Clean


“Morning Luci.”
“Morning Sasquatch. How you doing?”
“Fair to shit. Here, take a look at this.”
Phone pictures.
“She’s pretty, Sasquatch. Who is she?”
“My new bird. Shirley.”
“Very nice. Lovely blonde hair, I see.”
“Yeah. Blonde.”
“Indeed. And she has very blue eyes.”
“Yeah. Blue.”
“And such an engaging smile.”
“Yeah. Smile.”
“Now tell me, Sasquatch. What’s that on her face, there, there, and, well, everywhere really.
“Spunk.”
“Of course it is. Pretty Shirley, with her blonde hair, blue eyes, engaging smile, and a pint of spunk dripping off her face. Who’s spunk is it, by the way?”
Slow double blink.
“What? Fucking ‘ell, Luci! It’s MY spunk, that’s who’s fuckin’ spunk it is! What the fuck do you take me for??”
“Calm down, mate! I didn’t want to presume who’s spunk it was, did I? Obviously I thought it might be your spunk, but I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions as to who might be the spunker.”
“Alright. Fair enough, I suppose. I’m just a bit… you know… sensitive. I fink I’m in love with her.”
“Of course you are. After all, you spunk on her, right?”
“Yeah. Hey! She can do the splits you know! Wanna see?”
“Not really, I’m alright… Good God! So she can! That’s definitely the splits. Does she find clothing gets in the way? Does she have to do the splits with nothing on like that?”
“She can do the splits in her clobber, but I likes it best when she’s in the bollocky buff. Look. You can see her tripes…”
“Jesus.”
“I think I’ve got one of her bent over my snooker table…”
“Enough!! Fucking Hell, man, why are you showing me pictures of the girl you apparently love with her fanny wide open and the contents of your nut sack all over her face?? I mean, look at her! She’s got a face like a plasterer’s radio! And that picture, doing the splits, she looks like a fucking yawning donkey! Thanks and everything, but if you want my opinion I reckon you need to keep shit like that to yourself, not shove it under the nose of the first person you happen to meet.”
“Puff.”
“Oh, oh yes. Wheel out that little chestnut. I must be gay because I don’t want to gawp at your fucking nut custard all over some poor lass’s face. Well I’ll tell you what, Sasquatch. That sort of stuff, those pictures, they come back and bite you on the arse. Take my advice and don’t show them to anyone else – even better, get them deleted. It’s not fucking right.”
“Fucking puff.”
“Yeah, whatever.”

The new cleaner looked familiar.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, engaging smile.
When she bent over to empty the bins she demonstrated how supple she was.
It was Shirley.
Spunk
The minute I saw her my mind overlayed a thick coating of Sasquatch cum onto her face. I couldn’t help it. It could not be unseen.
“Hiya! I’m Sh…”
“Shirley. I know. Pleased to meet you, love.”
“How did you know? Ah, I bet my boyfriend Sasquatch told you, didn’t he?”
Spunkface legs agape fanny flaps tripe
“Yes. Sasquatch told me you were starting. That’s how I know you.”
Jizzmop
And away she went, wiggling her tight butt, bending at the hip, emptying…
…the bins.

“Oi! Luci! You seen the new cleaner?”
Spunk spunk spunk spunk
“Yeah, Sonny, I’ve seen her. She seems nice.”
“Nice?? She’s a right mucky cow! Sasquatch showed us these pictures of her doing all sorts! There was this one of her grinning at the camera and her face was covered in…”
“Spunk.”
“Ahh! So you’ve seen ‘em too! She looks like a right goer! Mad Mick says she did the splits for him, right there on the desk. He says to her, ‘I hear you can do the splits’ and she hops on the desk, and does the splits! Fucking mental!”
Tripe
“Look, Sonny, she might not be a goer or anything, she’s probably just an ordinary lass who… well… took a few private photos after they’ve been at it, like, and does the splits… all the time. For anyone. I mean, that doesn’t make her a slag.”
“Fuck off, Luci! She obviously can’t get enough cock! Mind you, Sasquatch isn’t a happy bunny.”
“Isn’t he? How come?”
“He didn’t know that she was gonna get a cleaning job here. She thought it’d be a nice surprise for him when he saw her tickling a duster around and that. He almost fucking died! You ought to see his face, man, he’s gone kind of greeny grey. Everyone keeps asking her out, and they keep asking him for another look at those pictures of her but he reckons he’s deleted them now.”
“Aye, well I reckon the horse has bolted, Sonny. He shouldn’t have let anyone see them pictures in the first place.”
“I reckon you’re right. I’d never show pictures of our lass wi’ a load of chipmunk drippin’ of her chin to the lads, that’s for sure. Not that our lass’d let me do owt like that in the first place…”
“No. Mine neither. See you later, Sonny.”

—–

I was on the way to the canteen. Sasquatch was lurking near the punch clock.
He was crying.
“Now then Sasquatch. What the fuck is up with you? You look like shit, man! Why are you crying?”
“It’s our lass, Luci. Shirley. She’s got a new job.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it? Now she can’t go swanning round the factory doing the splits for your all mates.”
He sobbed even more.
“She’s still cleaning n’all!! She’s got two fucking jobs!! Twice the fucking aggro, twice the amount of blokes trying to fuck her, thinking she’s a slag!!”
“Mate, you’ve brought this shit on yourself. Those photos were bad news, you know it. Never show personal stuff to these animals. They’ll tear you apart. I just hope you’ve learned a lesson. Now, you’ll have to excuse me, mate. I’m going for a full English. I’m fucking starving.”
I went into the canteen.
Meat sizzled quietly under the heat lamps. It smelled great. My stomach was in knots, my mouth watering. Bacon, eggs, sausage, black pudding, hash browns, beans, tomatoes.
I looked around. Everyone was eating toast.
I saw Sonny.
“No bacon today, mate? What’s up with you?”
He gulped his toast, looked uncomfortable.
“Didn’t fancy it. Looked a bit salty.”
I shrugged, joined the canteen queue.
I got to the front.
She said, “What do you fancy?”
I looked up.
My appetite died.
Spunk bomb cum blast jizz squirt.
“Two slices of brown toast please, Shirley. Dry.”

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5 Responses to 112. Pearly Clean

  1. Pingback: Reprographics - The repro man blog - Page 42 - London Fixed-gear and Single-speed

  2. Richard Knaggs says:

    The usual top quality filth. Keep it coming (so to speak)!

  3. You’ve even managed to teach me a few new swears! Good job!

  4. Louis says:

    Brilliant as always.

    (I’ve heard you like typo’s being pointed out, so: “Everyone keeps asking he out”)

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