Monday, January 16, 2006

Henry the Superstar

[warning - tasteless and offensive material ahead. Probably best to go and read something else, like "see spot run" which is really interesting and much nicer.]

My name is Henry the Adequate, and I am a superhero.

I have just finished beating a couple of evil criminal types to a bloody pulp. Serves them right for trying to sell "cookies" door-to-door dressed as school girls. Definitely a front for some kind of protection racket.

Now, to the next part of my plan. I head for the seedier side of town, where all the seeds hang out. Sometimes I wonder why horticulture gets such a bad name, but surely that thought is just some kind of subliminal message planted in my brain by lettuce salesmen. Anyway, I digress, then after a while I regress to some animal stage while causing the egress of large quantities of chunky fluid from my mouth and nostrils. I decide that I do not like words that end in "gress".

I zig-zag blurrily accross the street, my thoughts all fuzzy and random. It cannot be the alcohol, for I have the constitution of somebody with a really impressive constitution, so I must have been poisoned at one of those bars I happened to stumble into. Damn those secret poisoners and their poison-masters.

Ahead is a likely-looking prostitute, or "sex worker", or whatever the hell we're supposed to call them now. I demand a price list, or possibly a catalogue with photos, but it turns out she is unavailable just at the moment, on account of being a car and not a whore (sorry, "horizontally employed person"). This is a mistake anybody could have made.

Then this guy approaches and suggests that I should come with him. I think this is a really good idea, for some reason. He explains that he has just paid a prostitute, but was unable to perform, so on stepping out for a breath of fresh air he has noticed my predicament, and is now generously offering the use of said horizontally employed person, fully paid for and everything. This seems completely reasonable to me. I follow eagerly.

Upstairs in a nearby building, we enter a room, and I am almost instantly blinded. Do these people not know I have super-sensitive eyes? After a few moments my eyes adjust a little, and I see a woman with massive breasts, and some kind of face and hair and other stuff of some kind. I do remember that she is wearing a tremendous amount of nakedness. She immediately approaches and begins to undress me. This is not very difficult since it appears that at some point during the evening I have lost my trousers. "Hi, my name is Henry, but you can call me John, you know, if that's easier to remember."

She replies, but I notice that her voice sounds very muffled, possibly because she now has my enormous super-erection in her mouth. Such professionalism - I admire her dedication, then after a moment I begin to admire her skill, then after another moment my brain starts to melt into an incoherent jumble of pseudo-thought such that it becomes increasingly difficult to dictate these notes, but I soldier on nonetheless, because I am Henry the Adequate, superhero.

Shortly I notice that the voices in my head are shouting out instructions, as they usually do. "On the bed now." Apparently the large-breasted one can also hear the voices in my head, for she stands and drags me over to the bed like a dragging dervish fresh out of dragging school. I guess we must be soul mates or something, otherwise how could she hear my voices? "Tell her to mount you!"

"Um... get on top... that is, put my... um... thing in your... um... thing," I request demandingly in a very manly and sensual fashion.

"Finally, somebody who can act," enthuse the voices in my head. Surely they know by now that I am a superhero man of action. Then my glorious manhood is enveloped in her softness and wetness like an eel being enveloped in a soft, wet, um... lake, and I moan with the pleasure of it as though my very super senses are bursting with sensory sensations. "Doggy," yell the voices and I look around for some kind of canine presence, but there is no time for that because we seem to be changing positions again. She is on hands and knees, and I behind, looking down the slope of her back from impressive buttocks, curving rapidly to a feminine waist, then on to perfectly shaped shoulders supple and erotic, yet also strong enough to easily support even the enormous globes that hang below like big dangly things. I flex my rippling muscles and push into her, like some kind of big thing entering into some kind of slippery wet place, or you know, like a thirsty man entering a pub on a really hot day, or a drunken superhero entering some unknown partner on a heart-shaped bed. I notice that the bed is heart shaped because I appear to have just fallen off of it.

"Ok, cut!" shouts the voice in my head, "Take five then we'll come back for the money shot." Then suddenly the bright lights go out and I have a sudden suspicion that the voices are not inside my head at all, and this is supported by the fact that I can now see all sorts of people, and cameras and things. I then begin to suspect that all is not quite as it has seemed.


"Nice work Henry," some guy slaps me on the back and gives a thumbs-up.

"Yeah," somebody else agrees, "Narrating the whole thing - very original."

"Um... Hey, look at the wookie!" I cunningly distract all present, then head for the nearest exit. I notice that the door is locked. A burst of liquid fire from my embedded flamethrower fixes that, and I am soon on the street, feeling suddenly sober, feeling suddenly a cold breeze caressing my naked everything, and feeling suddenly like grabbing a kebab someplace. Fortunately I seem to have kept hold of my wallet during all of the recent events.


Blogger Lorraine said...

Oh! Wow...must be some holiday ;)

9:38 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

Ummm. To be honest I wrote this a couple of weeks ago. Not sure why.

10:21 pm  
Blogger carouselle10 said...

You definitely went too far this time! It's hilarious. Either you're getting some good stuff or you need to.

10:48 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

Yes one of those :)

10:49 pm  
Blogger Lorraine said...

Well then you must have really been - in need - of a
holiday ;)

11:07 pm  
Anonymous Miss Ann Thrope said...

That's some fine erotica going on there. ~ahem~

Please don't let Henry read The Story Of O. I don't think I'm ready for that quite yet.

4:05 am  
Anonymous msShad said...

woo hooo, maybe Henry is more than adequate after all?

4:09 am  
Blogger Lorraine said...

oooooh good one Msshad, wish I had said that...Ben, any possibility of expanding on Henry's hum title?

6:33 am  
Blogger Ben said...

Miss Ann:
I aim to please. Actually I aim to avoid staining the sheets.

Henry is unlikely to read The Story of O because he is fictional. I am unlikely to read it because my attention span has shrunk with age and internet usage to such a degree that I am not even able to finish a sen...

:) I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps, as Lorraine suggests, Henry needs a new name.

Henry the Moderately Adequate. Henry the SuperStud. Henry the Really Quite Adequate. That's all I can think of right now, because of my short attention sp...

7:14 am  
Blogger Lorraine said...

As someone famous once said
If it ain't Henry the adequate, don't fix it...

5:11 pm  
Blogger Ben said...


6:40 pm  
Anonymous T said...

lol...nice read after a long boring biz trip!
Nice to the see the wookie in the sex scene but not "in" the sex scene...heh.

4:51 am  
Blogger Ben said...

Yes well I don't think I am quite prepared to write actual wookie sex. Maybe after I post a few more stories on, as practice like, then I'll feel up to such a monumental task.

8:00 am  

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