2 Men Talking

As I hit the windscreen of your car, the last thing to go through my brain was my anus. And this turned out to be my saviour. In the twenty-four hours (have you noticed how people who’re desperate for word count, do numbers in letters?), I’ve been alive, I’ve seen, heard and experienced so much. It’s like being a goldfish that can fly. Except it’s far more socially acceptable, you get to wear a fabulous set of clothes and you acquire a whole new perspective on castles.

Yesterday, once my wings had dried out, I decided to do all the things I’d missed out on in my previous existence(s?). I know you’ll empathise with the statement that a goldfish can never have too much sex and the massive problem with the three (I’m not desperate any more but I didn’t want you to think I had both limited intelligence and the terrible numeracy limitations suffered by many goldfish) second memory span, but I’m unsure whether I’ve ever had sex, did I spend enough time in the arousal phase and why did I start this sentence in the first place.

Yesterday, there was this beautiful young lady just lazing on a swing seat in her garden in the late afternoon sunshine. I gently fluttered down and landed on her raised knee. She was utterly delighted and gasped at my beauty and bravery. Worried that she’d frighten me away, she immediately stopped stroking her pussy and thankfully remained motionless. She gave me a lovely smile and said that she was honoured that I’d chosen to grace her with my presence. I, of course smiled back but realised she would never know how much I’d come to adore her. Only having twenty4 hours to live means you have to make every second count!

Just then, a young man came into the garden. I suppose to some he may have appeared tall and handsome, but there was a lascivious edge to his smile that I didn’t quite care for. I know it was wrong of me, but I came over all jealously protective for this young lady, who’d shown me nothing but love and attention ever since I’d known her, which was now a significant portion of my life.

As he started towards her, she stopped him urgently with a whisper and then using her eyes, pointed to me on the point of flight, still on her knee. He became instantly angry.

“Are you honestly telling me that you put that bloody insect before me in your affections?” he said with undisguised venom.

“No, don’t be silly darling: it’s only a fucking butterfly” she said and savagely swatted me off her knee.

I was hurt; course I was hurt. But I’m not stupid.

Flew straight up her dress, gave the bitch the full 9 millimeters and went off to my next challenge.