Christ.

I had Cathy around for dinner, after work, last week. It wasn't easy to ask, i felt like a tool. it seemed unnecessarily formal. would you like dinner in my place? My place is ok, and i can cook. She turned the corners of her mouth up gamely, and gave in to me. Ok, she said. Do your worst. Ha ha, I laughed, and shuffled some papers. She’s been increasingly gamely these days. Ever since I heard about her and the cunt(lets call him Chester). I had to do some digging and it turns out, I hear from the chorus down in the kitchen, that her boyfriend, nay, fiance, if you don’t mind, was caught in flagrente with her best friend, or sister, or something banal. Cathy is in the throes of a sexual reinvention, sure we all do it. I tried it after my marriage broke up. Except it was different, as my wife was a bonafide schizophrenic, I was being promiscuous just by being with her. Ha ha. She’d love that it she heard it.

Anyway, I sensed a weakness, and I also sensed that she may be working her way through the office. I wasn’t going to miss out, for reasons I can’t really testify to. Perhaps, ultimately, I’m lonely. It’s been known to happen. The brief, fleeting, thrill of flesh. As Joni says: “You settle for less than fascination, A few drinks later you re not so choosy”

I’ve prepared noisettes of lamb with Lyonnaise potatoes, and she turns up on the dot at eight, clutching a bottle of wine. It’s a Saturday, it’s sunny, I’m lazy. Cathy has hair in a bob, I picture it luxuriant and long before she caught her swinging lover in the sack. I imagine all the changes she’s forced on herself. I say, great come in, and plonk her on the couch while i open the wine and make sure dinner's alright. Give me five minutes, i say, i have to check the food. watch tv, i say, and hand her the remote. wrong one tho. i hand her the dvd remote. She's not a turnip so she manages to work it out, and i come back from the kitchen 20 seconds later, and there's Brendon on the screen with that lass he was tailoring.
"what's this?" she points at the screen.
"eh" how to play it? lie? cool? "that's Brendon. He does some work for me." man that was a bad choice.
"work?"
"eh"
"He likes you to watch his videos. Does that girl know she's being videoed? Is that what you do? you swap dvds of yourselves fucking girls?"
"not quite. he gave that to me by accident, you see.."
"No, save your pathetic excuses. IS that what you thought, oh Cathy'll be easy, i'll get her in the sack. is that what you thought"
"eh" answer quicker fool, i thought to me self. i was still standing there with two glasses of wine in my hands as the pictures on the walls rattled from the force of her exit.

So i downed them both, the rest of the bottle, and another i had lying around, then I watched Brendon's dvd again, and had a big wank. it was weird