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He knew straight away she wanted him. It was all in the eyes. Same every time, he’d been told. But this time she had looked at him directly, and he knew this was it.

She loved every minute. Her eyes feverishly devoured him first. Then her fingers touching, slowly opening and then. That first taste for her had been so soft and yet hard. Firm and moist. He had cried out to stop, but she didn’t listen. She held him stiff in one hand and then slowly licked from his base upwards, tasting everything. She breathed in the sweet smell and sighed. Her eyes flashed again as she brought the tip to her lips and then deeper and deeper. He let out a small cry, again unheard.

The itch had started, strangely at the base. He would have though his tip would have gone first. He tried to look down at the puddles forming beneath him as he slowly dripped. He burned. He ached. Well this is it he thought. Once it begins there’s no going back. And all down to that bitch Janet.

He had practised for this, they all had. Even talked to some of the older guys, but they didn’t really know. It was all just here-say and rumour. One thing everyone agreed was that when it was time, you would know, somewhere deep down inside. But all he felt deep down was the burning itch. It was all over him now. But what could he do. It was too late. She had paid and he had to deliver.

Her lips were red, artificially coated and glistening wet. He could see each droplet on her lip and running down her mouth. Each drop is a part of me he thought. With each touch of hers, I become less. He looked back at the stall, his friends, his family. The sun beat down, damn this heat. He was so hot now.

Well if I’m going down, then I’m damn sure not given her the satisfaction she’s after. He concentrated all his will. Focusing. Finally he felt himself go, slowly at first splitting silently down the middle. He smiled to himself as he broke in two, sliding off the stick and falling to the dusty floor. A final fuck you to Janet.

“Oh for gods sake janet. Will you please stop crying. It’s just a bloody ice lolly. Janet! Please....oh for crying out loud

Gary just get her another one we haven’t got all day.”

Theme: Randy

Include: Puddles, itches, Janet

Look I never said I was gay, ok. They just assumed.

Granted, I did play it up. Too good an opportunity to miss - houseful of women and me. Doesn't take much, couple of nights in watching Sex and the City, noticing their outfits, learning how to make a few cocktails. Piece of piss mate. When your other option is sharing with six sweaty blokes it’s a no-brainer.

All the girls want a gay best friend, their own Gonk Wang or whoever - another accessory, like a handbag. If you think about it, it was me who was used.

For six months I had it pretty sweet. Attic room and four beautiful women wandering around in their panties all the time. They’d literally take their tops off in front of me to try on a dress or whatever and didn’t bat an eyelid.

Takes practise not to gawp. I had to train myself. Instead of staring and going in for a feel, I’d say something about the top, or how the skirt made their arse look hot or some shite. Whatever, they fucking lapped it up. Usually got a hug for my trouble too. Win.

So why do I want to leave? That’s what you want to know isn’t it? Well truth is I don’t. Between the shit room in your shared house and the penthouse I know which I’d choose. But I can’t, because of Shit-Faced Janet.

At first I was really careful not to give the game away. I didn’t want the girls to hear I was out with a girl - how would I explain that? Well you know how it gets, few months in and i was starting to feel - restless, you know? A bloke gets...itches. Ended up going home with Shit-Faced Janet, who was, as usual, shit-faced in a puddle of gin in Pier Pressure.

I thought I’d been careful. None of the girls had seen me leave with her and none of her mates know any of my mates, so I’m golden, right?

Wrong. Shit-faced Janet does English with Kelly off of my house and she’s been raving about this guy she went home with last Saturday. No names at first, just that she wants another go, like.

And of course, bloody Kelly has to go and wheedle my name out of her, then laughs in her face. “No love, he lives in my house - bent as a butchers. Must have given you a fake name. He’ll piss himself when I tell him”.

Then Janet gets my picture up on Facebook “Him? Bent? Not fucking likely Kels he went at me twice, and again in the morning. Couldn’t get enough.”

That shut Kelly up sharpish, apparently. Would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so tragic. For me, I mean - I was up Janet at least four times that night. At least.

First thing Kelly did is get home and tell the girls. They didn’t want to hear that I never actually told them I was gay. They said that made it worse. So here I am. Out on my ear. Left to rot with the dregs of society.

So, mate. That room. Still going is it?