Saturday 25 February 2017

Lighter Thief Chapter 2

me:
him:

BOINKSHE
LIGHTER THIEF CHAPTER 2
- STILL FICTION -

lee.
"do you want another cigarette?" i offered hesitantly. considering the length he threw the last one i gave him at, I'm struggling to believe he usually smokes. according to him, he doesn't usually "do this" either. which is a statement i highly doubt because he was fucking good at it. slightly arrogant mind, but we were all young once i suppose. if i looked like him when i was young id probably be exactly the same.
"I'm okay thank you!" his sudden shift in attitude apparently not something he wished to conceal. not simply just because he doesn't want my cigarette, more because his whole demeanour had changed. not in the usual way these rent boys usually change after the deed. usually, they're overcome with a look of disinterest, shame, guilt or a hybrid of the three. the ones as young as him anyway. the older ones are usually so fucked up, either on drugs or mentally, they'd take a cigarette simply because they feel they're milking me for all they can. he seemed to have developed a spring in his step. metaphorically of course. "did you have fun?" he quizzed. in a playful tone that suggested he was more than aware that i certainly did.
"oh yes, of course... did you?" the embarrassed smile seemed to overcome my face involuntarily. he too smiling, but more of what resembled a forced part of the procedure smile. the same way a mcdonalds employee would ask if you'd like to upgrade your meal to a large one. as if it was just something that came along with the service, a mundane tedious task. which was extremely confusing as he seemed noticeably more upbeat, however simultaneously as if he'd already began his next task in his head.
"was good ye, which way you going now?" i had a suspicion that whichever way id claim he'd purposely choose the opposite and use that opportunity to part with probably a "nice to meet you!" or "see you around!"
"I'm parked over in the northern quarter." i lied. "id offer you a lift but you probably wouldn't accept?" this attempt at reverse psychology in the hopes he'd walk back into town with me was risky. i hoped he'd come, i knew he wouldn't, but i knew even if he did, there'd be no car in the northern quarter for him to get a lift in anyway so i immediately regretted testing the waters with this young stranger. "and its getting pretty late, i can give you an extra fiver for a taxi though if you'd like?" hopefully he'd accept.
"no you're alright, you've already give me an extra fifty. anyway. I'm going the opposite way!" i knew it.
"ah, okay, well... john, was lovely, hopefully we can do it again some time... if you want?" fucking john, surely he didn't expect me to believe that was a genuine name. "that was you're name wasn't it? john?"
"ye, forgot yours sorry" he laughed. "ye ye just message me, and if I'm not busy then we can meet again. don't message me a 'lovely to meet you' message though they're cringe as fuck." he checked his phone, I'm guessing he was looking at the time as he didn't unlock it and he wasn't looking at it for longer than a second. worth an attempt to get a more solid form of communication with him though i suppose.
"can i have your number, john?"
"no sim card... look." he wasn't lying. on the top left of his phone screen where the network and service bars would usually be located it said NO SIM. at this point i realised i had to just leave it here and hope that he's not blocked me off grindr by the time i next attempt to message him. but someone ought to tell my mouth that. 
"whats the point in having a phone without a sim card?" it'd probably be best i kept quiet he was rapidly losing interest in me as it was. not as if i didn't have to go and get the bus home myself anyhow.
"couldn't afford my bill, I'm poor, so threw it away. anyway. see ya!"
"lee."
"what?"
"my name!"
"oh... thanks for the money lee!" in my head i had a thousand replies. in my head i also had a brain which was telling me to spin on my axis and leave the carpark in the direction of the bus stop. the carpark that five minutes previously id been in a dark corner of with my jeans around my ankles enjoying what id paid so much money for. it was worth it, i was aware from the outset and throughout it was all business no pleasure to him. however i couldn't predict that the cocky little gob shite would be so appealing. to be honest I'm not quite sure what I'm doing lusting over a fucking kid. obviously he's not a child but he's barely an adult. I've got a daughter not much younger than him which if anything just adds fuel to the fire pit of inappropriateness.
"you sure you don't want a lift?" not even five percent sure why i persist dancing with the devil in this way. no chance in hell i can follow through with the offer. I'm both equally nervously sprouting sentences and subconsciously just doing anything to try prolong the inevitable parting. at this point he'd already set off in the opposite direction meaning i had to project my voice more to be heard.
"na, ill have that cig tho, please, if its still on offer?" he says whilst turning round but without actually slowing down in the slightest. 
"yeah! course! you only had to ask!" another attempt at a joke escapes my lips. not sure how exactly this is even mildly considered a joke but, his lack of interest in me as a person is making me nervous. since I've discovered all he's interested in, in terms of me, is what i can offer, I've gotten to the point where I'm just flippantly offering things. "come get it, I'm not coming to you! you're young..."
"... right chill out I'm coming"
"alright. come on then" my words met with a roll of the eyes as he approached quicker than I've seen him move all night. i notice he's purposely avoiding my eye contact at this point, i know I'm freaking him out probably but i promise most actions at this point are involuntary. as i try my hardest to prolong the period of getting the cigarette and handing it to him i realise theres no way i way i can make this moment last longer than five seconds. but he turned around? he must not be that annoyed by me? he must not think I'm that weird otherwise he'd have just shouted back "no!" and continued walking? surely? 
"thank you..." he thanks me before I've even given him the cigarette "thank you!" and again?
"no problem! you need a light again i assume?"
"no, no its fine I'm only going to use it for piece." piece? what does he mean piece? maybe he meant peace? like he only took the cigarette to shut me up? and stop me shouting?
"no honestly, you take it, I've got another in the car!"
"alright, weirdo, thanks! see ya." weirdo? right thats enough I'm definitely doing too much, i turn around at the same time as him, in another direction and we both head off. in my mind (which by the way is running on overdrive) I'm having a million thoughts a second. one minute I'm imagining he's going to turn back again and declare his undying love for me and the next, I'm imagining we both turn at the same time unexpectedly and catch eye contact and quick draw pistols like an old western movie. with each step away from him i just think of him more and more. i slyly look over my shoulder in the hopes to catch him glimpsing back at me. he isn't. in one last ditch attempt I'm involuntarily looking back at his figure as it becomes smaller and smaller by the second i shout at the top of my lungs.
"LIGHTER THIEF!" not a clue what it means or why i said it as i clearly forced him to take the lighter. i think i must have just wanted to feel seen once more by a man half my age. but it fails miserably, as i watch him intently from the largest distance we've been since he entered turtle bay to meet me, not even look back to entertain me anymore.

MADE ANOTHER FUCKING MISTAKE SO IF YOU SAW IT WHEN THE COLOUR OF TEXT AT THE END WAS SKEW WIFF AND IT WAS CONFUSING WHO WAS SAYING WHAT IVE CHANGED IT. NEXT TIME ILL ENSURE NO MORE MISTAKES.
once again not a fucking autobiographical situation. and theres to be many other chapter stories not just LIGHTER THIEF.
hope you enjoyed. LIGHTER THIEF CHAPTER 3 soon.


Friday 24 February 2017

Lighter Thief Chapter 1

first things first, in no mood at any point throughout this blog to use capital letters to begin sentences or at the start of nouns.
second things second, and so on a so forth directly correlating with how many initial points i have. this blog will contain a plethora of different things with no real consistency. obviously in cohesion with the BOINKSHE magazine.
me:
him:
'friend':
'friend's mum:
(any other characters per chapter will be colour coded)

BOINKSHE
LIGHTER THIEF CHAPTER 1
- FICTION SO DON'T ASSUME ITS BASED ON ME OR ANYONE (ALTHOUGH OBVIOUSLY SOME PEOPLE ARE AN INSPIRATION) -

blake.
"have you got a lighter?" obviously i knew he did as he'd just given me the cigarette i needed lighting, also, i knew he did because id already observed the lighter shaped bulge in the left batty pocket of his trousers.
"fucking hell! do you want me to smoke it for you as well?" how predictable, hated people who said that. equally to people who asked what you was listening to when wearing earphones, however, less than people who took it upon themselves to actually reach hesitantly towards the other earphone dangling idly enough for you to be able to hear them say it.
"na I'm good thanks... thank you." id always been polite. a double thanks. once before receiving the lighter; with a fake smile and slight chuckle that endorsed the shit joke. another once after having used it and whilst handing it back. well "always been polite" isn't entirely true, once, aged about 9 i went over to my 'friends' house and when her mum, eventually, came home with chips, i was obviously usually used to double thanks by default, however this time for the first time i dipped my toe into the pool of immediate comfortability - as if she was also my mother. simply mirroring how 'friend' spoke to her mum.
"do you want chips?" mum asked
"ye..." 'friend' replied
"ye!" i replied although with more oomph and probably another fake smile. which would seem polite however, obviously not as polite as adding a s to the end and saying please. which i learnt when 'friends' mum told my guardian that i was rude and i wasn't welcome again. pretty funny because i didn't even want her chips and i certainly didn't care for adult chinese whispers about children who didn't say please. especially when said child was merely mirroring said parents child and ultimately still in the process of secondary socialisation (a term i learnt in the few weeks i attended sociology in college.)
anyway back to lighter dude. so there i was taking the first initial drags of this cig that definitely wasn't b&h dual and therefore not at all fully satisfying.
"where we going?" i enquired, for no reason other than to fill an awkward silence. i was already well aware the next forty five minutes or so would consist of some form of sexual favour in exchange for a three figure sum. closely followed by the blocking of a grindr contact (him) as soon as he was out of sight and i was back connected to wifi.
"theres this place just round the corner, should be quiet around this time" he replied, a little too enthusiastically for my liking, if anything this just made him seem perverted, although that was clearly a given by this point. he was at least old enough to be my dad, technically he only had to be around fifteen years older for this to be true, however, id say he was probably more about seventeen years older to be precise. i wasn't gonna ask. he's probably gonna ask me soon but ill probably only lie about it anyway so what does it matter. my age is on my profile to be fair; but unless he's already seen, guess he'll never know as i don't intend on him being able to find any trace of me after I've cum and received the payment for my services. first thing I'm gonna buy is definitely a deck of b&h dual. this piece of shit doesn't even have a menthol click.
"cool, are we walking? or do you drive?" doesn't look like he drives the weirdo "oh and by the way i need at least half the money upfront, this guy..."
"... i drive, but its literally not worth driving its... id say a three minute walk from here." first rule of interrupting me nob head is don't ignore the most important part of the sentence.
"okay, anyway need at least half the money before... because this guy once didn't even have any money and i had to box him afterwards... and steal his phone so..."
"... blimey, ye thats cool, you can have it all now. relax. I'm not exactly goi..." he just loved to interrupt me this guy. so i did him.
"perfect." in the same polite tone id say thank you. i tend to describe most things i say as polite. this 'perfect' in specific danced both over the threshold of stupidly confident and plain old arrogant. i felt i needed to assert some youthful dominance into this situation. throw in a dash of intimidation from the false story about having to assault and mug a previous client and i felt as though i was doing enough to be able to exclaim "I'm fine, i can look after myself!" to anyone who'd ever tell me to be careful in the future. "should we go then? got to take my friend some money after this so can't really be too long." i continued. "don't usually do this by the way, only when I'm in desperate need for money!" i rambled on, he probably would've perceived it as adolescent confidence or maybe even nervousness. in reality it was me taking control of the situation to become the dominant one. using my birth given charm and intelligence to manipulate the situation in my favour, as usual. saying the correct sentences to warrant the perfect questions that would ultimately allow me to either increase the amount he'd pay me; using a false story of how I'm debt ridden. or to at least create a pity party for him to feel as though he was the superior alpha male in this situation. as i play the poor me card perfectly.
"don't you want another drink? i suppose we could go now yeah, and why you so desperate for money? don't you work?" fucking three questions in one what you playing at fella?
"well i cant exactly do my job sat outside turtle bay now can i?" i had no intention to inform him that i was in fact very much employed, however just very flippant and careless with money. pair this with a slight obsession with narcotics and alcohol and that meant, regardless how many hours i worked id still always be in need of more money anyway. similarly, i had no intention of lingering with the glass of the drink id finished inside and brought out for no apparent reason, to the seating area outside, for my cigarette with my unusually unlikely date. who to the unaware public or untrained eye could be my tutor, psychiatric nurse or just a local library card distributor who asked me to join him for a drink after his shift. i did have the intention however, to reinforce the fact that what was about to occur was the only job that mattered at this specific time; especially that it was actually just a job and id gain little to no enjoyment from what he'd most definitely lust after in his mind for probably weeks to come. "and i just owe my mate a hundred pound that he borrowed me a few weeks ago."
"lets go then, you've finished your drink?" this guy was actually really getting on my nerves at this point. not quite sure why he's asking stupid questions when if he was to simply adjust his eyes from staring intently and expectantly at me he'd see that all that remained in my glass was the lemon wedge and the brown ice water, that if i wasn't with him id suck, for the freezing shot of refreshment that tastes exactly like what it was. extremely diluted coke remains. speaking of things that are getting on my nerves, this disgusting cig is getting thrown after another drag.
"yeah yeah, thanks again... what you doing tonight then?" at this point I'm not actually listening to a word he's saying yet still I'm hearing the replies. the questions i ask him are simply to build a rapport with my customer and this question specifically as something to say whilst i begin to stand up and vacate the vicinity of turtle fucking bay.
"you!" he smirked. i didn't, and i hope he felt immediately ashamed afterwards for sounding like such a sex pest. to be honest, i feel embarrassed for older men like him. clearly enough disposable income to indulge in younger company, for a few hours a week, every week. although it was the first time id ever clapped eyes on this chap, i was pretty certain i could predict a rough idea of what his life consisted of:
- he definitely doesn't have a car, he's lying about that! how do i know? they never have a car if they insist on meeting in a resturaunt on a tuesday evening.
- he did have a well paid job. or he'd at least always pretend, to us rent boys that he did. if for example he made thirty a year, he'd insist it was forty six. why? you'd have to ask him.
- he either rents an apartment, plagued with a lonely aura and a shit dog. OR. he lives with his partner and possibly (probably) children who he'd disguise (were i ever to enter) as his relatives, nephews or nieces. his young boy batty fetish would be his dirty little secret and theres no way ill experience him, in his home environment, until I've already got him whipped.
"thats unlikely! unless you're paying for the premium service..." 
"you're funny! i was only kidding though, I'm probably just going to go to sleep. work in the morning"
"why?"
"why do i work? so i can..."
"...no, why am i funny?" correcting the imbecile.
"you just are?" typical creepy old man, amazed by the generational gap that meant my youthful assertiveness to him, was uncommon and i suppose refreshing?
"thanks." i smiled at him, showing every tooth. hoping he'd pay me more compliments so i could meet them with more obstacles to remind him that without his money, he wouldn't even be able to converse with a lad like me.
"my life's like that rihanna song at the moment..." i knew what was going to follow, i knew i was in for a cringe. the best option in this situation is to allow him to think he's funny and try to get this acquaintanceship over as quick as possible. "work, work, work, work, work, work, work!" followed by an overbearing laugh that i certainly didn't even consider participating in. all i could think about is that he said one 'work' too many!
"wow." the typical, say wow, make them think their previous action was so uncool, they apologise and ask "was it really that bad?" at which point id jokingly say yes and keep it moving. happened exactly as predicted. worst part about it, we were only about eight metres from the table we just left. by this point and I'm regretting not at least getting another drink out of him.


edited sentence structure and punctuation from last time if you read it before sunday 26th feb as well as added more. suppose it may aswell be the best it possibly can be or else whats the point.
once again not a fucking autobiographical situation. and theres to be many other chapter stories not just LIGHTER THIEF.
hope you enjoyed. LIGHTER THIEF CHAPTER 2 soon.