School Eats Time
Feb. 21st, 2008 06:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsOrz, so I wrote Metalocalypse Drabble Challenge 25 about a month or so ago and it was WAAAAAY over my 500 exact count. So I rewrote it this morning.
Prompt: Erotica
Pairing: Tony and Hand
“Same ol’ same ol.’” Grumbling to himself, the bassist threw the glossy magazine back on the floor and looked down mournfully at his dick, watching it twitch faintly in his grasp. “Sorry guy, but we’re just pissin’ around with these slags, ain’t we?”
He’d spent over twenty minutes wanking it and nothing was doing the trick. Tony stuffed his dick back inside his boxers, petted it once soothingly as he got to his feet. The problem with America was that it was too damn puritanical. Even the porn was mostly fucking tame and he’d looked at every copy of HUSTLER he had at least fifty times. What he wanted, what his dick bloody needed, was novelty. Back in the U.K., just buying one of the major dailies would have at least netted him a new pair of tits regularly but there was not of that in America, not even in Los Angeles. And all the breasts in town were fake anyway…
A few slightly awkward steps had him shuffling out his bedroom door and into the front room. Pickles was still living on his couch for the time being, although that would probably come to an end after the album came out, and he knew the redhead had to have his own spank bank tucked away somewhere. Sure enough, when Tony fished around beneath the cushions, he reeled in a couple of glossies and an interesting baggy filled with green stuff that probably wasn’t oregano. Unfortunately the mags were more of the same, all but two of them ones the bassist already possessed and the new ones were just Playboys that, judging from their age, the lead singer had swiped from his dad before he left home. Tame, boring, old…and his dick hadn’t decided to take a nap at all despite being tucked away and neglected.
“This is bollocks! Fuckin’ gormless shite…”
Tony grumbled some more as he went about replacing Pickles’ stash, yanking the grungy couch cushion up only to stop when he noticed a last magazine wedged nearly all the way down the back of the seat. His dick twinged in protest when he would have ignored it and grudgingly the bassist picked it up and then nearly dropped it in shock.”
“What the fuck?”
A naked man leered up at him from the cover, no sign of breasts or cunts anywhere, and only the excited urgings from his dick made Tony gingerly flip the magazine open. Three minutes later, sprawled on the couch, the bassist wiped off his stomach with a sock he’d swiped off the floor.
“Huh. Never pinned the kid for a ponce. Never woulda pinned myself for one neither.”
Eyeing the magazine as if it would give him an answer, Tony could only shrug when his dick made a half-hearted attempt to wake back up. He checked his watch; Pickles would be back in about fifteen minutes.
“Patience, guy. Be more interesting to look at this poofter shit with a ginger mate, wouldn’t it?”
Prompt: Erotica
Pairing: Tony and Hand
“Same ol’ same ol.’” Grumbling to himself, the bassist threw the glossy magazine back on the floor and looked down mournfully at his dick, watching it twitch faintly in his grasp. “Sorry guy, but we’re just pissin’ around with these slags, ain’t we?”
He’d spent over twenty minutes wanking it and nothing was doing the trick. Tony stuffed his dick back inside his boxers, petted it once soothingly as he got to his feet. The problem with America was that it was too damn puritanical. Even the porn was mostly fucking tame and he’d looked at every copy of HUSTLER he had at least fifty times. What he wanted, what his dick bloody needed, was novelty. Back in the U.K., just buying one of the major dailies would have at least netted him a new pair of tits regularly but there was not of that in America, not even in Los Angeles. And all the breasts in town were fake anyway…
A few slightly awkward steps had him shuffling out his bedroom door and into the front room. Pickles was still living on his couch for the time being, although that would probably come to an end after the album came out, and he knew the redhead had to have his own spank bank tucked away somewhere. Sure enough, when Tony fished around beneath the cushions, he reeled in a couple of glossies and an interesting baggy filled with green stuff that probably wasn’t oregano. Unfortunately the mags were more of the same, all but two of them ones the bassist already possessed and the new ones were just Playboys that, judging from their age, the lead singer had swiped from his dad before he left home. Tame, boring, old…and his dick hadn’t decided to take a nap at all despite being tucked away and neglected.
“This is bollocks! Fuckin’ gormless shite…”
Tony grumbled some more as he went about replacing Pickles’ stash, yanking the grungy couch cushion up only to stop when he noticed a last magazine wedged nearly all the way down the back of the seat. His dick twinged in protest when he would have ignored it and grudgingly the bassist picked it up and then nearly dropped it in shock.”
“What the fuck?”
A naked man leered up at him from the cover, no sign of breasts or cunts anywhere, and only the excited urgings from his dick made Tony gingerly flip the magazine open. Three minutes later, sprawled on the couch, the bassist wiped off his stomach with a sock he’d swiped off the floor.
“Huh. Never pinned the kid for a ponce. Never woulda pinned myself for one neither.”
Eyeing the magazine as if it would give him an answer, Tony could only shrug when his dick made a half-hearted attempt to wake back up. He checked his watch; Pickles would be back in about fifteen minutes.
“Patience, guy. Be more interesting to look at this poofter shit with a ginger mate, wouldn’t it?”
