The sudden sounding of his ringtone mid wank startled Travis and he lowered the volume on his TV. He was enjoying self pleasure whilst watching The Great British Bake Off as he had a soft spot for Mary Berry's saggers and thought Paul Hollywood was quite the dish too.
Travis was bicurious and he often wrestled with this internally, this turmoil could be best described as akin to confusion and often led him to become momentarily bifurious due to not knowing what to wank to.
He swiped up to answer his phone as he stroked down to Paul Hollywood dropping a huge load of fresh cream on Mary Berry's muffin which in turn spurred ravenous roars from the onlookers who applauded voraciously and this brought Travis to the edge.
"Hello" Travis answered tentatively.
"Hello Travis this is Maria, I am needing to speak to you about the party, are you busy?"
"Just a moment" Travis responded hastily.
He put down his phone as he rushed to shoot his load into a nearby pot plant he had neglected to care for and then tipped the remainder of his cold coffee onto it for good measure. He wasn't much of a gardener but could grow a girthy eight inch erection that would make the eyes water of even the most astute of sword swallowers or associated carnival tricksters.
"I'm back" Travis announced as he retook his phone, "Um I was just meditating and my incense almost set fire to the fishtank so I threw water on it".
"I could hear some very familiar sounding moaning?" Maria teased in a subtle voice.
"No no, um that was just me chanting a sacred mantra" Travis responded in a manner that Maria easily saw straight through.
"Oh, ok, what's the name of the mantra?" Maria asked.
Travis panicked, the rusty bottle cap racked his brain so hard that the hamster inside almost fell of the wheel.
"It's called o mama e mama" he blurted out in a reply that would end in checkmate for Maria.
Maria burst into laughter. "Travis that is the lamest excuse ever. Oh my God, you've just given me the same excuse and mantra Ace Ventura used when he got caught wanking in the African hut, how about some originality lol, you were playing with your cock weren't you. Be honest with me, I won't bite"..
"I don't have chickens" Travis replied.
"No but I'm sure you have a cock" Maria laughed in response.
"No I don't, it's a rumour started by Dr Phil" joked Travis.
"We'll can you send me a photo of your no cock so I can help you dispell this rumour?" Maria asked.
"Allllll righty then" Travis laughed in a jovial relaxed tone. "Guilty as charged"
These rather improbable set of aggregates set the mood well for the conversation that Maria had hesitated about having with Travis but she found his easy going demeanor as soothing as having a lava lamp on during a lethal injection as the conversation flowed seamlessly like a well polluted river minus the inedible fish.
She laid out the etiquette for the swingers party that was only three days away and sternly stipulated 'no fire' but in a sweet way that can only be unchained by the sultry voice of a sexually ripened woman. The memory of Crisp Willy still remained strongly within her. The scenes of the chaos and the smell of burnt pubic hair had been etched indelibly into her psyche, a scar that could not be healed, not by even the most tech savvy of druids..
One request remained for Travis from Maria. Yearning to know what he would be bringing to the party, with her curiosity heightened to beyond the bearable she asked for a photo of his manhood.
A few anxious moments passed before her phone sounded. She opened the message.
Her dark brown eyes became transfixed on the image as a trickle of adrenaline and endorphins began to enter her bloodstream, slowly increasing to the point where she struggled to control her own thoughts as her entity slowly morphed into a desire driven creature fueled by the drugs of lust created from within her own feminine being.
"What kind of pelvic sorcery is this? she gasped.
She then put the washing machine on to spin cycle.....
