Read by Will Goodhand
Happy was happy only if always in misery. That wasn’t the way that he had planned his life; he had enjoyed pleasure, once, before that afternoon in the cottage with Mildred. Before that afternoon in the cottage in Lowestoft, when Mildred had coyly said to him: “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours."
Happy Lawrence Oswald had been raised to be shocked at such proposals. He was the son of a deacon, after all. But instead of being stricken by shock, he found himself transported by awe, utterly speechless. In the nineteen years that had thus far composed his sheltered life, nothing had prepared him for such bald temerity.
He struggled to form words, but none came out. He knew that his eyes must be literally bulging in the paroxysm of panic that he felt. How much hesitation was too much? Would she feel rebuffed if he did not soon find his voice? Would she angrily withdraw her offer? What was the protocol for such things? He wanted to show her his penis. Oh, yes, he did! He was shocked at the urgency of his own desire. In exchange for a glimpse of her precious womanly parts, he would have agreed to virtually anything. To dropping out of divinity school. To eating the abominable dish his mother was always trying to foist on him, cockles with lemon vinaigrette.
Mildred’s expression was indeed changing. He saw uncertainty clouding her pretty periwinkle eyes. Her nose was crinkling with the beginnings of shame and self-doubt. It was now or never! If he didn’t let loose his madly twitching penis now, he would die a virgin!
Wait, virginity? Was he really thinking of surrendering his virginity? Was that where this was leading? Of course it was! He was shocked and awed at the magnitude of this revelation. That’s clearly what Mildred wanted. And he loved her, so it was all right. Everything was all right if it was done in love and gladness. Damn his father’s medieval scruples!
That Mildred confronted her own carnality was so brave, so inspiring. He wanted to make this a memorable experience for her. She deserved it. As a veteran thespian of many nativity plays, he knew how to make this a moment that she would never forget.
With the skill that only a practiced dancer possesses, he executed a perfect 180-degree turn so that he faced away from her. He untucked his shirt and unfastened his braces. In a moment, she would learn of his own bravery, the decision that he had made when he was sixteen, to be enslaved no more by oppressive undergarments. At last, he threw down his trousers. When he heard her sharp intake of breath, he knew that she beheld the manly splendour of his gluteus maximus.
He whirled. His penis was annoyingly half-mast. Fortunately, it was fully tumescent. He waggled it and watched her face. Her reaction was more than he had hoped. Her lips quirked, she panted, and she looked at him wildly. She wanted to say something, but such was her awe at his enormity that she was struck mute. He waggled it again. She inhaled deeply, and her alabaster complexion started to flush a demure pink. He was tempted to waggle it a third time. Suddenly she dropped to her knees, and she mumbled something that was barely audible.
She wanted to touch it! Oh my God, yes! Had he just taken the Lord’s name in vain? He didn’t care! Touch it! Touch it! Touch it!
Her hands grabbed his trousers, and she was standing, raising them as she stood. He realized that the fingers of her left hand were on his zip, that she had grasped the pull tab and was sliding it up. The facing rows of teeth were joining together, higher, higher, until both rows of teeth bit into his glans.
He screamed. She screamed. They both screamed in unison.
*
Later, he learned that she had wanted to see his stamps. His father had told her that he was a philatelist. She too was an avid stamp collector.
“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,” she had said. Specifically, she wanted to see his rare set of Papua New Guinea overprints. He didn’t blame her; they were an impressive collection. She had a large collection of Penny Reds that he would not have minded seeing.
When he thought back on that afternoon, he knew precisely when his predilection for suffering had been born. He remembered the look on Mildred’s face as the teeth had clamped tightly over his tender manhood, right before the blood had started to flow. In her eyes, he didn’t see revealed a woman who had embraced carnality, who had joyously abandoned herself to lust. He saw instead a look of shock at the situation, a look of awe that misunderstanding had spun out of control so fast and so far – and a look of relief.
His pain caused her relief. His pain afforded her pleasure. Her pleasure at his pain afforded him pleasure.
--
So Fast and So Far was read by Will Goodhand at the Liars’ League Shock & Awe event on Tuesday 13th September 2011, at The Phoenix, Cavendish Square, London.
Chas Warren is an English teacher who lives with his wife of 30 years – also an English teacher – in Gyeonggi-do, South Korea. He is more pleased at having been picked for Shock & Awe than can adequately be expressed within a 50-word bio.
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