ANOTHER FINE MESS

I am in a toilet cubicle and I am sucking a particularly
fine dick. How did this startling event come about?
And whose dick was I licking? All shall be revealed in
the fullness of time.
So there we are, me resplendent in Ruthie-stylie black
and Rhonda Redbuns dressed up like the green giant.
(But not so jolly.)
Where did we go? To LilacLace of course! I hadn't even
entered the building since all the unpleasantness, but
Rhon thought it would be good saturation therapy.
A distinct character change as a female, perhaps not for
the best- she came across like a bossy mad aunt.
Neck on the doors eyes widened when he saw me. (They
nearly fell out when they saw Rhon!)
"Fuck." He said, I winked at him and linked arms with
my amazing pal and waltzed passed him with my nose
in the air. What I didn't expect to find was Grady standing
there like an egg-shaped epi-centre of evil (how many
e's did I use then?)
"You've a nerve!" He said and his fat shook in angry
little riverlets, for some reason his flesh looked
succulent, like roast pork with crackling or maybe it
had been a long time since I had eaten.
"I've many, so many I've got a bloody nervous system!
Can't believe you're here Grady, I expected you to be
playing pass the soap with the rest of the Brixton
custodial!"
Grady's face grew red and sweaty like a tomato put
in a microwave. Ouch.
"You dirty ho!" He said and clearing his throat spat
directly into my surprised face. Before I had time
to react Rhonda grabbed Grady by the throat and gave
him a Glasgow kiss. Grady slipped to the floor, weebles
wobble but they don't fall down, oh yeah?
"Fucking hell!" I said.
Rhonda looked around panicking that someone might
have seen it happen.
"Ah shit Becks! I'm on probation I simply canna get
arrested!"
"Why did you headbutt the tosser for?" I shrieked.
"I'll not be havin' anyone spit on , ma friend!" He
looked so shy and vunerable, I gave him a quick
hug. Auntie Becks could make it better.
"I'd say let's scarper but it's not that simple, it's
probably on that CCTV camera up there." I lit a
ciggie:"I've a plan."
After Rhonda pushed and pulled Grady under a table,
we set our plan in action. First of all we needed to
get a diversion going.
"I'll do it-it was my fault." Breathed Rhon.
I flinched:"Hon I think this is my call, you go wait
for me outside."
"The fuck I will!" The voice was entirely male and
stubborn. Men!
"Ok! Look see that very handsome barman there?
Yeah the one with the thin moustache? Go and tell
him you've found Grady under the table and that
it looks like he's had a heart attack. I'll get that tape!"
Although I am no prude, sometimes my decisions
are not technically or ethically sound. If I actually
thought about my actions I really wouldn't get out
of bed in the morning! I had to do something low,
something base, but I had a friend in need to spur
me on. I was going to have to blow the security guard.


Becka M

ENTER THE DRAG-QUEEN

Mal sipped his tea reflectively and looked at me
sadly saying: "Hen, your fucked!"
I nodded.
"I sooo am! What can I do Mal? My life is chaos and
challenges, my sex life is so complicated it needs
a personal agony aunt, my father is a Tory and my
Mum a Gangland bitch. What can I do?"
"Becka, you are a woman, you can shop! What else
could you do? As a gesture of goodwill you can choose
anything off the rails (as long as it's under £100) to
start the 'new you'! Now come on, I've a business to run
and you are waylaying me." I blinked in shock.
"Your Scottish and your offering me something for
free?" I laughed at the notion, so rare was it!
"Aw fuck off then!"
"You are a good man Mal." I smiled at him.
We had spoken, well I had for hours, I'd told him
near enough everything about myself save the brand
of my tampons. "I wish all men were like you." He
laughed at this loudly.
"I'm more man then your'll ever get and more woman
then your'll ever be." He smiled back:"Oh fuck the
shop! Lets get dressed up and hit the town!"
He sounded happy and who was I to argue? Mal could be
just what I was looking for. I watched him cooing over the
plus size dresses in a way that showed he had more
then a passing interest.
"Are you a transvestite Mal?" I asked as I struggled
into a courture dress that was obviously too big in
the breast-icle department.
"Am I fuck!" He laughed his giant's laugh:"Nooo way!
I'm a drag queen, I don't do that miming shit though-
I sing." He seemed very pleased with himself.
"Ah." I said:"I see." I winced thinking of his utterly
terrible tracks that were playing when I first entered
the shop.
"I go under the name of Rhonda Redbuns and I sing
in the style of Bette Midler."
"I've a sister who looks a bit like Bette." I said.
(Hey! Cheeky cow-Rainex)
"She doesn't sound much like her, she has the tit and
hair thing going on though." I said as I put a pair of fuck-
off flares on and a hippy-dipshit top.
"Aw no girl!" Roared Mal:"You look like Cher's dirty
knickers! Go upmarket!"
So obviously I chose black, a simple Ruthie-style black
dress, very well cut. I looked like an escaped secretary
from the 60's.
"Very nice!" Said Mal approvingly:"And myself?" He
stroked the front of his green silk dress seductively.
"Fantastic!" I enthused, he was about the worst, most
unrealistic woman I had ever seen. Eyeshadow from
hell, a dress that made him look like the ruddy Queen
Mother (if she was still alive and ever wore green
sequins), Eddie Izzard had better make-up skills. A wig
that looked like it had escaped a mating with a panda
and legs that boasted a thick auburn fuzz.
"We just need to fine tune this." I said:"Now take me
to your make-up remover!" I ordered.
"What ya mean?" He looked hurt, his square jaw
trembled then set in a pissed-off arch. Oh fuck.
"I mean." I said carefully:"You look great, truly you
do. But I am by trade a make-up artist, I'll show you
how to make the most of your strawberry blond
features." Small tip peeps (always call a ginger
strawberry blond, they will be putty in your hands!)
"Look at your face Mal! So beautiful but obscured by
make-up (crayons) and lipstick (goo) that is far
too (gaudy) strong for your (manly) lovely face."
"You think?" He said.
"Yeah I do, come on Cinders let's sort you out
love."
Mal suddenly turned me around:"We are strangers,
you haven't got to do anything you know."
I looked at him:"But I want to and I've nothing
else planned."
"I mean, you seem very used by the people in your
life. I'm not like that, besides your not my kind
of girl!" He grinned. I touched his arm.
"Thanks Mal, listen can we shave your legs?"

Becka M

WRAP ME IN SILK

Well that was the name of the shop! I entered into a
world where all things were pretty, expensive and
deeply me. The music sucked though, Rick Astley
finished and Cameo began 'Word Up', I shuddered,
where was the good in all this?
I began to stroke the sleeve of a red silk kimono, very
sexy little dragons festooned themselves around the
sleeves. I became aware that someone was standing
very close to me, watching my every move.
I looked up into the weirdest, most incredible face that
I had ever seen! Sharp grey eyes and a huge nose
like an eagle's beak , a square and cleft jaw, but his
hair! Carrotty and abundant it fell to his shoulders
like a Ginger Jim Morrison and indeed he was wearing
leather trousers! Impressive bulges bulged in all the
right places, he stood easily six 4, six 5 and he was a big
guy- not fat but obviously a gym junkie. Gorgeous.
"Beaut-if-foool isn't it?" He purred in a deep and ultra
camp scottish accent. I nodded.
"Sure is, out of my price range I'm afraid." I shrugged.
"Is that so?" He said lightly. "Well please refrain from
fucking man-handling the merchandise if you can't afford
it!" He growled.
I was so shocked I burst out laughing on the spot.
He looked perplexed and then he laughed too, he stuck
out a Shrek dimensioned hand for me to shake (if I could
lift it).
"Mal." He said:"That's my name Mal, for Malcolm,
but don't call me that, it's Mal." He explained.
"Mal it is then! I'm Becka."
"Please to meet you Becka, have ye just come to browse?"
That way he said 'browse' was like bruise. For some
stupid, stupid reason I felt my eyes welling up, I sniffed
a bit.
"Aw for the love of Mary don't drip on the dresses!" He shrieked,
then to two of the customers at the other end of the shop.
"Will ye fuck off now already? Can' aye see I have a situation?"
The two women gave him a couple of evil glares then
left. Mal closed the shop.
"Come with me hen, lets have a brew, it will clear the
flews."
He ushered me through the shop at that very moment the
track changed to Adam and the Ant's Prince Charming,
so at least I was spared listening to that.

Becka M

NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP

I felt decidedly seedy, like some sort of pervy old
geezer. If I had a crotch I'd be shuffling it and showing
little girls my maltesers. Not a Becka Martin look. I'm
heading faster then the speed of light to 35 and I still
don't have that 'significant other', very Bridget Jones!
Still I have Alan but he's hardly Colin Firth material.
Much too shabby, but in a funny way- sexier. Not that
I'd kick Mr Firth out of bed you understand (just in
case his press agent is reading hee-hee) so Colin are
you up for it?
Not that I have Alan, more like had, I feel the faster
I run towards him the further away he gets.
Ruthie. What an absolute cunt I've been to her. I mean
the girl is crazy about me and I use her when I want to.
It's just that I am a sort of trendy lesbo, I do it because
it feels good and I want to, but it's a man I want.
Trouble is, when I'm with Ruth I tend to turn into the
guy, she brings out a very butch persona that is only
hidden because I look all girly. She makes me feel ( I
blush really) she makes me feel that I'm the strong one,
I can do anything! And why not? It can work, look at
dead-girl Justine , straighter than a ruler and now
mysteriously turned into a Kylie Minogue dancer,
all voguey and intimate. But that's Angela influence ,
now that was a lady who knew what to do with a
chamois leather!
I told Sister-thing about Ruth and she went through
the roof (Ruth!! Sorry!) she really hates her.
"Not that sad little bitch again!" She squawked and
started to pace up and down like some angry little
clown that had escaped from the circus.
"Ruthie is ok, don't worry about it, really!" I blew a
perfect smoke oval and watched it rise. Dirty
habits are the most satisfying.
"She will start all that psycho stuff again! Becka
do you want trouble? I mean really you invite it
in at every opportunity!" Her pacing was reaching
lift off capacity, her hair has been known to
cause G force. I smirked at her and she stopped
pacing:"Your laughing at my hair again right?"
I nodded."Perhaps red is far too 'Maccy D' for
you." I allowed my mouth to curl higher, then she
brained me with an ash tray!
"Fuck of Becks! Don't change the subject!" She
yelled.
I sullenly stood up, head ringing, good job it was a
plastic ashtray that I had nicked from a pub. But
as I left I sang:"Be a clown! Be a clown-all the
world loves a clown!" And felt the door judder as
something Dog size hit it.
I rode my Vespa deep into the heart of Brixton,
further still heading towards Streatham.
Then I decided I needed to spend money, there
was a few little shops very Biba-esque that had
opened. I looked at the lovely shoes, bags and
coats that I could ill afford. Then I heard the
music blaring out of a shop that was painted the
colour of a split Cadbury's Cream egg. Chocolate,
white and orange. Music blared out, but such music!
Rick Astley! "Never gonna give you up!"
Intrigued I entered.

Becka M

TARTS


I feel like I need to be mated, for real. Mr Pointy is a
cool dude but sometimes a girl needs something to
hold onto. I so badly need a fuck I think I am going to
do myself and injury! Friction burns are so teenage.
Ruth and her bread-and-butter sex! Sex because you
need it rather then wanting it. Well she is right but I'm
fresh out of Utterly Butterly, namely stupid Jeff getting
himself arrested and Mickey 'The Daddy' Straw getting
his wife pregnant every few months. Wankers.
I'm left with the Twins (oh please leave me with them!
30 minutes will do it) but I can't do that to Alan.
Skinner perverted Gollum of a wretch, well he is handy
with a rope. Angela, nope she's a Love-Mummy for
Justine's corpse-girl. Max, Angela's moody gothy son,
nice but a fetching shade of green.
Of course the best answer would be to jump Alan and
completely fry his brains out with multiple dick suckings.
A man tends to be more pliable after that.
Have I missed any out? I hope so because I'm really at my
wits end. Alex is out doing a shoot for perfume (now how
silly is that?) and I'm sitting on the sofa wearing a Central
Park t-shirt and a pair of Calvin's.
Ruth is in the kitchen pretending to eat things (Usually
involving a great deal of spitting into the binbag-nice).
She looks good actually, leather mini skirt, high boots,
Honky Tonk hat (you are awful!) and heavy black eyeliner.
She looks like a lolita, even though she is quite 30 something.
She see's me looking.
"Alright fuckface? Want a jam tart?" She says like the
chirpy cockney she is.
I grin at her:"Feed me it." I say, her eyebrows raise.
"You are a lazy cunt." She mumbles but standing on tiptoe
(and I don't make it easier for her) she proffers the
Mr Kipling special.
"That's not the tart I want." Sometimes I really am just a
big man.
"Oh?" She removes her stupid hat and her blonde hair
swings past her cheeks making her look like a Timotei
advert. But she's smiling.
I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom.
I know this is wrong wrong wrong.

Becka M

ME AND MR POINTY

Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a stake called 'Mr Pointy',
I too have an object of the same name. However mine is
a discreet, beautifully smooth and shiny vibrator.
Don't all start 'Rabbiting' me at once, I've had quite a few
Rampant Rabbits from Ms Summers and I have to say
they are good, but sooo noisy! Mr Pointy is quiet and
reliable, because of this silence I can indulge in fantasy,
he can be who I want him to be.
You have to remember guys masturbation is healthy,
especially in someone like myself who hasn't had sex
in yonks, you have to do it else it'll atrophy, i.e use it
or lose it.
Also it's getting the timing right, never in a million
years would I have a wank round Sister-thing's flat,
I'd be way too self conscious. At Ruth's and Alex it
can also be a bit intense, Ruth would ignore it but Alex
might shout out:"Will you stop that damn frigging!"
She always seems to know when I 'm playing with
myself. I think she has a direct and psychic link
to my vagina.
Oh god I need a man!
I phoned Alan up:
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Watching a dvd of Last of the Summer Wine."
"Why would you do that?" I said in disbelief at his
bad taste.
"Because I think it's funny of course!" I could detect a
faint pissed off tone in his voice.
"Do you think your one of them? Your not that old you
know!" I teased imagining him wellies.
"Becka stop being a cow, what do you really want?"
He was definitely irked!
"I want." (A fuck)"I want you to come over." My voice had
that unattractive pubescent whine.
"Not a good idea Becks." He said flatly.
"Don't you love me anymore?"
"Of course I do! But I think that we have perhaps one
of the most destructive relationships ever, I truly
think that if we are meant to be together we will be.
You just have to be patient."
"That's thick!" I snapped:"What are you waiting for a
sign from The Almighty? Get real, we are two people
who need eachother and I need you now. Please
come over Alan, I'm begging you." I hate it when I
act all graspy and demanding, he does bring out
that side of me. I just want to cling to him.
"The twins told me about your little massage." He
said dryly. Oh shit the little twits!
"It was nothing!" I squeaked.
"Hmm. Look I'm not coming over, I'll phone you in a
couple of days, we'll have lunch, or something."
It sounded like he wasn't interested, after all we had
been through and I still wanted to tell him about my
'Dad'.
"Alan don't go." I said quietly.
"Becka, I can't do this with you, I really don't know
if I can make myself be this vunerable again." So
he was hurting too.
"Can't we just take it slowly, be together and see how
we go?" I said gently, trying to coax him back to me.
"No we can't. It's all or nothing and at this stage I've
nothing to give you." I heard him gasp:"But I will come
over. Just don't expect too much." He warned.
"Fantastic, I can't wait." I put the phone down and
humped over the sofas like an excited puppy.
Yippee!!!
But I knew in my heart that we had a long way to go
and the worst thing possible would be for me to jump
on him the minute he walked through the door!
So here is where Mr Pointy came in, he became my
beloved Alan.
"It's been a longtime." He said in his deep treacly voice.
"Forever." I sighed.
He knelt at my feet and his face nuzzled against my
G-string, gently he pulled it to the side and breathed
deeply against my flesh.
"Such a longtime." He said and eased my pants over
my hip bones. He pulled me forwards so that he
could explore the very core of me with his tongue,
I twisted and squirmed, it felt like Christmas with
snow. I was yanking great handfuls of his gorgeous
hair and letting it run through my fingers like silk.
He smelt so good, tobacco, brandy and his own clean
smell mixed with Imperial Leather no doubt.
I could feel myself building up to come:"Please!" I
mumbled. Carefully he unzipped himself and he
sprang out like a jack in the box! I'd forgotten just
how beloved his cock was to me. I kissed it's pearly
head.
"No I want to be inside you."He said and pulled me
on top of him. I was so wet and ready that the
friction made it seem delicious and ripe.
He was lifting me with his strength and need and
I was saying his name again and again. I came so
hard that I almost fell straight to sleep in exhaustion.
I felt doped and happy on sex. Then I remembered
that I was alone on the lounge floor with Mr Pointy
and Alan was on his way. I smiled a secret smile
as I went to ready myself.

Becka M

KEEPERS

He is perhaps the most challenging man that I
have ever met (and I've met some!) it's his sharpness
bordering on down right rudeness. The way he talked
to the barman was a shame. He might have well have
said:'Lick my boots serf!'
Patrick's luminous eyes stared at me through the
smoky bar, he seemed wryly amused by me.
"Well." I said( you have to say something) that's how
a conversation is started.
"I think this is going to be hard work, I think that
we should drink more." He said sagely. Blimey.
"Maybe, but would it make any sense?"
"Possibly not, but when does anything in life make
any sense at at? If you analyze everything it all
boils down to the same thing. Men and women
making mistakes, it's called 'living'." He grinned
at me, he looked like some sort of elderly vampire
(by elderly I mean about 60, which is plenty old
enough-for a vampire anyway).
"Wow!" I said:"I've got to 34 without realizing
that! Who knew it would all boil down to men
and women fucking up. I suppose I am a mistake?"
"Naturally! You don't think that I would want to be
bonded by blood to your mother do you?" He
laughed, showing extremely good teeth. But he
had a point. Mother was a bitch queen of the highest
order.
"Mother yeah, what a little star she is! How did
you meet her, please tell as she was married to
my father at the time." I allowed venom to drip
into my words. He wasn't having it though.
"Your Mother, Vanessa was the type of women
that they warn you about in public school. I was
intrigued by her, besotted, she was so very pretty
like a little chain-smoking pekinese. Vanessa
Worked for Catherine as her 'help' nowdays you
would call it a PA's position. She did everything,
even cleaned the kitchen floor when one of
the hounds was sick." Patrick looked wistful.
"I remember watching her small bottom going
from side to side, then she looked at me and
smiled, that very wicked smile of hers. She had
me, but alas it was not meant to be. Later I
realized that Catherine knew what was going on,
which was breaking her heart. Then I noticed
just how tarnished your Vanessa really was.
I mean she was involved in Gangland, not good
at all for a man in my position. I had to let her
go." He said sadly shaking his head.
"Ok how very callous of you-practically throwing
her out into the snow, pregnant as well." I sipped
my brandy.
"Not quite, but she could have been a bit of a
Christine Keeler figure if I had let her, a pay off
and a few words of caution stopped all of that."
He spoke so coldly.
"And you really didn't know about me?" I found
this hard to believe.
"The first I knew about you was when I saw a
photo of you in The London Press and a statement
from your Mother." His eyes twinkled, oh dear he
must have read that miniscule paragraph regarding
Thrumz and Jeff the lunatic. How embarrassing.
"Ah." I sighed.
"When I saw your face I saw myself. Rebecca I
wanted to, I still want to know you." He reached
across and stroked my face.
"God this is weird-I feel like I'm almost not
'myself', you know?" I frowned.
"Look finders keepers, your mine now, nobody
is going to mess this up." Again that vulpine smile.
"Oh and for the record Ma's name is Valerie not
Vanessa."
"I feel crushed now." He said and we both laughed.
"Wait until I see her I'll give her bloody Vanessa!"
We spent the next 20 minutes drinking quietly and
looking at eachother.
"Barman, we'll have the same again, oh and make
it clean glasses next time!" He barked. Yes a challenge.

Becka M

DEAREST HEART

The policeman eyed me suspiciously-I had walked
past the House of Commons 3 times and still could
not stop.
"Help you Miss?" He said in the same tone as he
might say 'Your nicked!"
"Um, yeah, no, I'm just waiting for someone."
I mumbled.
Then I saw him striding across the forecourt
like Darth-bloody-Vader-Sir Patrick Beamish
AKA Dad. Oh shit my innards turned to puree.
"Rebecca?" He says squinting into my face.
"That's right."
Policeman's eyebrows were raising and a funny
half-smile quirked his lips. I bet he thought I was
an escort.
I could not help stare at this man, he was my sire,
my origins. I could see myself mirrored in his sharp
blue eyes and pitchy hair. I hoped my hair would be so
streaky when I got older. He was not as easy in his
body as me, he carried himself stiffly with his elbows
tucked tightly in (as though he was trying to control
himself) would I be that disciplined one day?
"There is a public house across by the station."
Said Patrick and almost forcefully linked his arm
through mine.
Policeman's mouth was twitching away like he
had Tourettes.
"Right!" I said but my heart was saying 'wrong'.
Just as I turned the Policeman gave me one of the
most evillest winks I've ever received. Quite
purposely I pulled my tongue out at him.
"Dearest heart you can not imagine what this
means to me." Said Patrick as we crossed the
road and made tracks to the pub.
The air was sharp and cold.
"It's too strange." I muttered.
"Strange can be good." He said and smiled and
that smile did it. Toothy like me, friendly
and decidably wicked. Even being a Tory could
not change the fact-I think I was going to like
this fella.

Becka M