Chapter 1

She plumped herself down beside him on the sofa, and handed him another beer to replace the empty in his hand.

“Oh, thanks. How did you know I... ?”

“It’s a ploy.”

“Oh?”

“To get you talking to me.”

“Yeah. Aren’t you Zoe’s flatmate?”

“Well, I was here first, but yep.”

“I’m Oliver.”

“Yeah, I know. Oh, sorry. George. Well, Georgia ... but George, please.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s it. So...”

“Oh, yeah. Ploy to get you talking. Listen, I have a proposition.”

“You do?”

“I do. But first ... are you ... with anyone, Oliver?”

“This minute?”

“This week.”

“Nuh-uh. And it’s usually Ollie, really.”

“Okay. You gay?”

“What?”

“Well?”

“How many beers have you actually had, Miss Georgia?”

“Is that a firm no?”

“Yes.”

“Wait on. Wait on. Yes, you’re gay, or yes, no?”

“I’m not gay. Well, except this one time...”

“What?”

“Just kidding.”

“Okay then.”

“And anyway...”

“Yes?”

“ ... he promised not to tell.”

“You’re joking. Right, Ollie?”

“Aren’t you, George?”

“No. Really. I’m not.”

“Okay, well, in that case ... I’m still not gay. That’s not to say I’ll never give it a go, but I’m really quite fond of girls.”

“Perfect. Free-thinking, liberal, but not an active homosexual.”

“That sounds like my resume.”

“Okay then, so...”

“Oh, oh.”

“No, wait until you hear. I’d like to make you an offer, but I’m not even considering telling you the details here.”

“Intriguing.”

“Yeah. So are you willing to put down the beer, and walk up the stairs with me?”

“To go where?”

“My room.”

“Oh.” He grinned, and lifted his eyebrows. “I’d put down more than one beer.”

“Yeah, but ... there’s a catch. I need to tell you that up there.”

“Am I going to be dismembered, and my body parts scattered over the lawn?”

“Well, not right away.”

“You have interrogation lights, and electric shock equipment?”

“Yes, but I left that stuff at the office. Oliver, no one would ask you to attend a torture session.”

“Sounds good then.”

“Yes?”

“Fuck yes, George!”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing...”

...

They both sat at the end of the bed, feet on the floor, each with a beer in hand, and Ollie turned to face George.

“Okay, nice room. A bit girlie, but no sign of torture tools. What gives?”

“Yeah. Gime the beer.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll just put it down on the dresser for a minute. Lie back. Close your eyes.”

“I’ve seen horror movies that start like this.”

“Shut up.” Georgia lay back as well, the two of them side by side, but not touching. “I’m trying to figure how exactly to say this. Do you like to masturbate, Ollie?”

“Oh, come on, where’s the camera?”

“No, really.”

“You are the oddest girl, you know. And I say that with some affection.”

“Some?”

“Well, we just met.”

“Okay. Answer the question.”

“Do I have rights to deny the answer later?”

“Not to me, no.”

“But otherwise?”

“Sure. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone. And was hoping you won’t.”

“I have nothing to tell.”

“No. Not yet.”

“Okay, I’m hooked. You have a deal.”

“Good. Well?”

“Is the Pope a Catholic? Do bears shit in the woods? Of course I like to masturbate!”

“Good. Me, too. Okay, so here’s the thing...”

Oliver lifted his head from the bed, and bent over so she could see his face. “You can tell me. All jokes aside. Okay?”

“Thanks. I want you to masturbate for me.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. And...”

“There’s an and after that?”

“Yeah. I’ll just say it, okay? I want you to masturbate for me, and I’d like to return the favour.”

“You ... oh! You mean afterwards?”

“At the same time, I hope.”

“When?”

“Oh, about now. Before this beer wears off.”

“Where?”

“Right here, just where you are.”

“Like ... side by side?”

“Mmhmmm ... Listen, if this is perverted or anything, just say no.”

“I’m not saying no. But can you tell me why?”

“Oh! I didn’t think anyone would ask.”

“I’m asking, George.”

“Yeah ... It’s complicated, but I’m ... I’m not good at beginnings. I’m not good at the first time. I’m ... actually I’m not sure I can explain, so just ... Fuck, here, take your beer. You know the way back downstairs.”

“Whoa, whoa, I didn’t say no. I just asked.”

“Sorry. A little nervous, maybe a little tipsy.”

“Relax, okay?”

“Not much chance of that, but thanks.”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“I’m saying yes. How do you want this to work?”

“Oh! Well ... I have this ... specific image ... in my head.”

“So, direct me.”

“Wow. Okay, kick off your shoes, drop your jeans.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh. Wow again. And, um ... nice boxers. Drop those too?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah. Oh. Okay, you know what? I just realised, but until now I didn’t think you were interested ... but that looks interested. Nice barometer you have.” His barometer was jutting out from a nest of dark pubes, what looked like rather heavy balls hanging down below. He wasn’t circumcised, and he wasn’t small. He was hard, and twitchy.

“Of course I’m interested ... and you are getting more interesting all the time. Now what? Shirt?”