Fifteen Shades of Sweets... A Neurotic Navel.

Chapter One

Vernant Spatchmole was angry, not a big red face, blotchy, sweaty angry, but a sullen, moody, James Dean with a ciggy hanging out of his mouth rebel-without-a-cause angry. He knew that this dark look would attract the girls, that and his bulging bank account that throbbed with activity. Yet he remained elusive, an as yet untainted gentleman, whose only venture into true depravity came when he bought a Vauxhall Agila (Slogan: The car so shit, even crap old drivers won't bother with it) and then sold it a few days later to act as a water feature to a braless Charlie Dimmock.

Sat opposite him was a nubile young woman, with breasts, that were bouncing up and down as she breathed huskily. She was meant to be interviewing him for her first assignment for "Cock" magazine, but had spent most of the morning simply in awe of his magnificent presence.

Her name was Joanna Pohkme, an up and coming young journalist who had earned this placement on "Cock" thanks to her wonderful prose and ability to string a sentence together, somewhat like this one, without the need for excessive commas, grandiose verbosity and other such nonsensical and utterly futile literary devices that rendered a sentence so long, pointless and ultimately boring that long before the end readers had forgotten what it was that they were supposed to be reading about and why, indeed many even speculated skipping these paragraphs in entirety to get to all the  potentially rude bits.

Big sweaty balls. There we go.

"So," said Joanna breathily. It sounded like she had Asthma, but she didn't, she was just hot for Vernon when he looked this way. Her breasts were still moving up and down a bit, though not as much as before as she'd fiddled with her bra straps secretly to keep them more strapped down and, conversely, pushed up. A move designed to beguile and yet confuse the male species.

"So what?" Asked Vernant in a dismissive, sexual and entirely masculine way that reeked of "Soddem" aftershave.

"Can we continue this interview?"

Vernant stood from the desk and Joanna eyed his package, it was long and hard and most probably erect.

"Maybe... I'll get that out for you later..." said Vernon playing with his package between nimble, well-manicured fingers that didn't have an layer of oily crud between well-chewed finger nails.

"Ohh" said Joanna, who being a woman of a certain age, probably assumed it was something very rude indeed.

Vernant wandered over to gaze out of the window in a whimsical, yet utterly manly fashion, like a general overseeing the battleground raging below him. Only it wasn't the battleground that was raging down below Vernant today...

(It was his nob, for those who don't get subtle imagery).

"So, can we continue?" Joanne asked pointedly, though not as pointedly as her nipples that were so pert that she could have cut glass with them.

"Yes, but... No more about that subject... You know... That one..." said Vernant turning to face her.

"But that's not fair Vernant, you promised me an exclusive... What am I going to show my editor if we can't talk about that?" Joanna asked.

Vernant mumbled and reached down. Fingers ablur and fumbling at his package, he ripped it open and thrust it right in Joanna's face.

"There! Look! Ok! Now you've seen it!" Vernant said thrusting his package under Joanna's nose.

It was all Joanna could do not to gasp. Here pupils dilated (which is a sign of sexual acceptance) and her mouth instinctively opened (as above) and she reached out to grasp it with her hand (ditto).

"It's so firm, yet soft..." she murmured.

"Taste it..." Vernant said inching it towards her mouth.

Joanna opened her ruby red lips and took Vernant's surprise package into her mouth... It was not what she expected, it was turgid undeniably but somehow yielding and tasted sweet as she darted her tongue darted across the end of it.

She sucked greedily as Vernant smiled...

"I knew you'd like it..."

Joanna gasped. "Oh Vernant!" she said in between long deep sucks "It's the best stick of Blackpool Rock I've ever tasted!" (NB. That isn't rhyming slang any hormonal women reading)

Vernant smiled "I knew you'd like it... I've got a fair few things you can suck you know..."

"I've sucked many, things. Bigger things" said Joanna in an innocent and not slutty way at all.

"Really?" said Vernant. "Well, I guess we'll need another meeting soon won't we?"

Joanna stopped sucking hard and looked up at this cliched embodiment of male perfection. Even though she stopped, her breasts kept jiggling up and down. Her bra really was pushing them up that much.

"You mean, I can't go the whole way now?" she asked.

Vernant withdrew the stick of rock and wrapped it carefully back into its wrapping. "NOt today, I'm tired, my rock is aching and a bit soggy at the end..."

"I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away..."

"That's ok... Just be careful next time... Teethmarks in your rock is not attractive."

"Next time?"

"Oh yes... I've got something about six inches long, pink and rock hard for you to enjoy and you can suck this a lot longer..."

Joanna smiled as she grabbed her things and breasts bobbing in the breeze, bounced out of the room, wiping the sticky rock juice from her face.

Vernant opened the draw on his desk.

"Oh yes... She'll love you my friend..." he said patting the Sugar Dummy.

"She'll love you... I'm sure."