[~1,100 words | 4 min read]
He can already hear them in the garden talking about wanking. He finishes the notes, tidies the dice – he’s ready for the third act. He wants it to finish well. It’s the first time they’ve played in person for over a year.
Bad news will do it.
He grabs a fresh beer, the fourth one. Too much for his metabolism.
In the garden there is the smell of tobacco and new soil and cut grass and beer. Bart has a cigar and he’s offering tokes to everyone. It’s a good one. The type you’re not supposed to have the way Bart got it. The five of them sit and stand amongst their ghosts. Martin is carrying on.
He says, “How does the sock thing even work?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just don’t know how it works. What is the sock for?”
“Catching the cum.”
“So you put it on the top of your dick?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Not on the top of the dick.”
“Oh, he means right at the top of the bell end? No, not at the top, you tool.”
There is laughter. Aiden just smirks. He’s sitting on the garden furniture, looking into the sky.
“So how do you cum into it?” asks Martin.
“What do you mean?”
“How do you aim the spunk into the sock? It’s not a very big target.”
“Wait, you think you just aim the spunk into the sock? Like it’s on the other side of the bed or something?” asks Bart.
Ray and Max are crying with laughter.
“Well how does it work? That’s what I’m asking?”
“You put the whole sock over your cock?”
Martin just looks at them and shakes his head.
“Honestly mate, that’s how you do it.” But Ray is struggling to talk around his laughs.
“So are you guys saying your cock is as thick as a sock, or your ankle is as thin as a cock.”
More laughter. Even Aiden chuckles.
“What do you mean?”
“Well I’m not afraid to admit it, my dick doesn’t fill a sock. And I know yours doesn’t either, Ray.”
“It’s not airtight, you numbnut.”
“Then how does it work?”
“You just… hold it around the shaft and wank it like you would with your hand.”
“But what’s the point?”
“To catch the jizz. It just makes the cleanup easier.”
After a while he just shakes his head and says, “Nah.”
More laughter – from three of them.
“What do you do then?” asks Bart.
“I just use a tissue.”
“I don’t get that one. Whenever I’ve tried to use a tissue, I just end up with little bits of paper stuck everywhere and you have to have a shower to get it all off.”
“You don’t use it on your dick.”
“I know. I just mean wiping up afterwards. All the little bits just…”
“No, no. You cum onto it,” says Martin.
“Eh? You catch your ejaculation?”
“No, listen you dumb noob. You lay the tissue on your belly and chest and jizz on it.”
“Dumb noob!” Ray repeats. He can hardly breathe.
“Mate, you’re forty-something, you don’t need to worry about hitting your chest.”
“Oh, I do mate.” He flexes his bicep.
“What’s the point in laying the tissue down? You might as well just do it on yourself and clean it up.”
“That… is… homosexual,” says Martin, enunciating the sentence. The three of them laugh.
“Give over, mate.”
“A man, ejaculating onto your body, is a homosexual act,” he confirms.
“It’s your own supply.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“So what do you do when you’re having sex, Martin?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on dude. When you’re having sex you must get some of your own jizz on yourself sometimes, even if it’s just on your dick.”
“No, never.” The three of them laugh again. Martin is keeping a straight face.
“I can’t tell if Martin’s serious.”
“I feel sorry for Sara,” says Max.
“I told you guys he’s a virgin. Virgin with three kids.”
They pause for a moment. Smoking and sipping. Looking at Aiden. Catching each others’ eyes.
“So you’ve not tried your own supply then?” asks Ray.
“Tried it?”
“You know, tasted it.”
“Get lost mate. Don’t even lie about that.”
“Everyone’s tried their own, Martin.”
The three of them chuckle.
“I can’t tell if you guys are shitting me,” says Martin.
“What about sounding?” asks Ray.
“Don’t get him on that, mate,” says Max.
“What’s sounding?”
“I don’t know either,” says Bart.
“Look it up on Reddit. Urethral sounding,” says Ray.
He gets out his phone.
“Do NOT look it up on Reddit. Not on my WiFi anyway.”
Martin puts his phone away and smirks. “You guys got a VR headset yet?” he asks.
The three of them laugh for a long time, even Aiden’s chest moves with half a chuckle.
“I’m not having another conversation about VR porn.”
“Agree.”
“It’s not just for porn…”
“Here we go.”
“VR shit is for coomers, dude. Trade it in immediately.”
“Whatever. You guys need to try it.”
They take the last drags of their cigarettes. Bart stubs out the cigar, saving it in a pouch. He slaps Aiden on the shoulder and squeezes him. “Sorry about the baby, bro.”
“Yeah man, sorry. It sucks.”
“Thanks mate.”
“How many weeks?”
“Twenty-four.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah.”
“IVF?”
“Yeah.”
A few seconds later. “How many is that in the group now?”
“Three?”
“Four.”
“Yeah four, we had two.” And then, “Not that late though, that’s rough.”
They’re all quiet for a couple of minutes. Ray silently catches everyone’s eye and nods towards the open windows on the neighbour’s house. One of them snorts and then they’re all suppressing giggles, except Aiden, who is squinting now.
“What is that?” he asks, pointing.
A tail of thick, white smoke is descending from an invisible point in the dark-blue, pre-sunset sky. At the front of the tail is a fireball, getting larger and brighter. Melting from yellow to red to hot white before it fizzles out and pops like a camera flash too close to their eyes. A few seconds later there is a cracking sound like thunder through a mistuned radio, so loud it deafens them for a moment, leaving their ears ringing. A car alarm goes off somewhere.
“Wow.”
There is a pause as they look at each other.
“Was that a meteorite?”
“A meteor. It didn’t land.”
“What?”
“It’s only a meteorite if it hits the ground.”
“Shut up, dickhead.”
Another pause.
“Amazing.”
“That was epic.”
They watch until the tail shrivels and evaporates, then go back inside and sit around the table, performing the motions of restarting the game, but nobody seems able to say anything.
“Jesus,” says Martin eventually, looking at his phone.
“What, is it on the news?”
“No, no. I’m in the sounding subreddit. This is nuts. How does it not hurt?”
END.
Corporate Clarke's Fiction 