Pure Dirty Sex

By Matt W Casper

A prolific womanizer and casual alcoholic, literally, has the wildest ride of his life. A columnist by profession whose life spirals off into an extreme direction.. in this world and the next, leaving more than enough to write home about. What did they mean when the pen is mightier than the sword? Ah, forget it. Looks like we've got company.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matt W Casper
• Release date: Oct 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311048318

Matt W Casper

Matt W Casper is a self-published British novelist, lyricist, poet and short story writer. His writing is influenced by the widespread drug culture, socioeconomics and cultural diversity of his home city of Brighton, England. His work is self-described as the subgenre HowlerFicton, inspired by the popular style Gonzo Journalism, it focuses on the corruption of modern day society, fronted by mentally estranged youth protagonists. Written in third person, it is a style of writing without any claims to objectivity, which draws its power from a combination of real-life experience and self-satire, favouring a non-detached style therefore striving for a more personal approach. The genre’s tone engages in the harsher sides of reality; not limited to but including bloody violence, drug binging, mental issues and illnesses, alcoholism, rape, sexual abuse and addiction. Matt W Casper has currently released one novel titled, ‘Sket City’ with the sequel, ‘DEAD SHELL FISH’ on its way. Right now he is working on his fourth novel, 'THE GORILLA DIARIES'.Have a wonderful time.

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Matt Cary Williams

Pure Dirty Sex

Copyright © Matt Cary Williams

The right of Matt Cary Williams to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 & 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without agreeing and conforming to the Terms & Conditions of the Amazon Kindle or other electronic publisher Agreement or otherwise without the prior permission of the author in writing. Any person who commits an unauthorized act in relation to this publication will be subject to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All the characters and events described in these stories are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgement

In grateful appreciation to Cecily Gabriel-Pullen for her editorial assistance and stunning artwork; to Rebecca Gransden for proof-reading and suggestions.

Dedication

To my future therapist for taking up my case.

Disclaimer

The written material you are about to access and read, forms part of a work that is entirely fictional and all of the characters and events described in it are also fictitious; and any resemblance to any person living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The work heretofore referred to, contains sexually explicit material, graphic descriptions of violence and sexual acts, and profane language. By reading the work, you are deemed to have represented that you are not offended by such and that you understand and fully appreciate the difference between fact and fiction. The work is not suitable to be read by minors. If you are offended by such material, then please do not read any further.

Please also hereby take notice that any attempt to copy or reproduce any of the descriptions, written text, events or actions contained within the work will be deemed to be strictly illegal.

Author’s Note

HE MADE ME DO IT…

Matt Williams

October 2015

CHAPTER ONE

A cigarette burnt down slowly in the ashtray. I didn’t smoke. Or at least, I didn’t then. A brown smudge on the mirror buffered me from my own reflection. Probably a good thing considering I don’t really know who I am anymore, I thought.

The sound of water spouting from the tap and spiralling down the drain with a great gurgle left me completely absorbed. My hands gripped tightly around the basin rim, smoke from the cigarette drifted in my face.

It’s not you. It’s me, I said.

My grip loosened from the dish and I sipped the whisky from my glass. A vein in my head suddenly began to swell, blood pumped wildly and I was ready to explode; a detonation sequence had been initiated, and the cavernous throbbing felt like the recoil of a baseball bat. My eyeballs started to ache from the pressure.

This migraine . . . Just give me to the end of the meal!

A man wearing a grey suit with a purple tie walked into the bathroom. He was smiling. He turned around and left as soon as he saw me talking to myself. I wasn’t surprised.

The tap was still running, so I washed my face to cool down. The headache faded. Then vanished completely. I knew it would.

It’s been fun. And you . . . well . . . you, you are amazing! The best. Number one. Nothing compares. But you deserve the fairy tale, the happy ending.

I never like ending it with a girl, it tends to get messy and someone always gets hurt. That’s why I try to avoid the danger zone at all costs. If things ever get too close, I cut them off. Although, some women . . . well, some women are just too hard to leave unattended. Especially when those women are totally obsessed . . . They’ll call you late at night and ask to come over, some of them will even use a lame excuse to get their foot in the door, others will just lay their cards on the table, but both will eventually, and inevitably, start nesting.

Every time they call, you know you should turn them away, tell them it’s over and cut all connection completely. But you don’t. Instead, you fuck them so stupid that they begin to fall in love with you. And once they’re smitten like a kitten, head over heels in honey, you’ll get scared and leave like you always do. From the start, you tell them you have no room in your life for anything serious, and that a little fun is all you can handle. So it’s not like you were never upfront. But none of that matters when they fall in love with you. Again, you’ll be playing the arsehole. Fuck.

I took another sip of whisky. The glass is empty, nothing but a half melted ice cube.

Yeah, sure, I love you, I practiced. I just think you’d be better off without me. You don’t need some alcoholic, drug dependant, wannabe writer in your life. With smarts like yours you’re going to be successful, make a difference, you know? You’ll meet a guy, not like me, but a nice guy.

I heard the chain flush. A man wearing a sweat suit exited the cubicle behind me.

Making room for more, ey? I said, rather rudely, before turning back to the basin. More a drinks man myself. I got no time for food. How else you expect I stay so fit?

I wasn’t fit, more malnourished.

The man said nothing as he washed his hands in the basin next to me. He looked like the type of guy who had probably taken a wrong turn in his life, like once upon a time he might have been destined for great things, law or medicine, maybe. But I knew as well as he did that it hadn’t panned out the way he’d expected. Nothing ever does . . .

He turned to me. His eyes were tired and lost.

Alright for some, ey, he said, as he wiped his hands with a paper towel.

I said nothing, staring back at him stupidly, before taking another sip from my glass. It was empty.

They should make these bloody things bigger, I said.

When I looked up, he had gone.

I remained still, reluctant to leave the confines of the bathroom and face up to my dues. A waft of cigarette smoke caught my nostrils. It tingled like mustard. I was nervous, so I took a drag. It made me cough but . . . I forget about Katelin. I took another puff, this time savouring the sensation, before stubbing the butt out in the tray and exiting the bathroom.

When I arrived back at the table, Katelin was on the phone. She ended the conversation when I sat down.

Have you been smoking? she asked.

I signalled the waiter, raised my glass and shook it from side to side.

Two more, when you’re ready, please, Jeeves.

He smiled, a genuine smile. I’d tip him big at the end of the evening. I turned back to Katelin. She was staring furiously at me, ripping apart her napkin, shaking her head disheartenedly.

Have you been smoking? she said, this time loud enough so the whole restaurant heard her.

Jeeves turned up with our drinks. I took mine and took a sip, before slouching back in my chair.

No, but I’m thinking of starting.

What?

Nothing.

So you haven’t been smoking.

No. I haven’t.

You stink of smoke.

It’s not my smoke.

Fine, she said, flipping open her menu and holding it in front of her face.

I took another sip of my whisky, before pulling the menu away from her face.

Look, Katelin, there is something I’ve been meaning to say to you, I said.

She was wearing the red dress I liked. Her breasts looked firm, succulent and ripe. I got a hard on.

Well, what is it? she said, sounding not even the slightest bit concerned.

The thing is, Katelin . . . is that -

You know it’s been six months today, she said.

What has?

Since we first fucked. It’s been six months. And I’ve been thinking that maybe we should step things up a notch.

I saw her idea of our future together play out like a movie in her eyes. I watched and I didn’t like what I saw.

We can’t see each other anymore, I said bluntly, hiding behind my drink.

Her face dropped.

What did you just say? She sounded pissed.

I started to ramble, We can’t see each other anymore, Katelin. It’s not you, it’s me. You’ll be successful . . . destined for great things. You’ll find a man, a nice man.

She leapt up from her seat.

FUCK YOU, DWANE! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT! she roared.

Now everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. A young boy even started to record us on his phone.

Katelin, I really am sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.

She screamed, FUCK YOU! YOU WERE MORE THAN HAPPY TO HAVE ME SUCK YOUR DICK IN THE CAR ON THE WAY HERE! BLOODY PIG!

It was true, I did but . . .

In my defence, Kate, you did owe me. For that time in the church reception, remember?

ARGH! I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU LOWLIFE, SHIT SUCKING, WANKER BASTARD! FUCK YOU!

I heard a few gasps from the older crowd, a couple of sniggers from the guys in the room, and of course, the united heckles from the females.

He’s not worth it, babe!

You’re a scumbag! You don’t deserve a lovely looking girl like her!

Yeah, fuck off back to the hole you crawled out from, loser!

I laughed, raising my glass to the crowd. Evelin Davison would be proud guys! I turned to Katelin and smiled. Kind of feel like throwing myself in front of a horse right about now, if I’m honest. Starting to feel like I got more than one pair of hands wrapped around my manhood. If you know what I mean?

She punched me. I took it as her answer. I fell off my chair, spilling my drink, looking ridiculous. The women in the audience cheered.

Suppose I deserved that, I said, picking myself up from the floor and plonking down on my chair. I signalled Jeeves for another drink. He provided immediately. He was a good man, the quick service meant he cared.

I turned to my recent ex-girlfriend. She was fuming, her face red, fists clenched; a ferocious look in her eyes that I couldn’t help but find sexy. I got hard.

Look, Katelin, I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to hurt you. It’s just I’m not ready for this,

She threw her drink over me. Then stood from her chair, put on her coat and picked up her bag. Get fucked, Dwane!

I watched her leave. Her arse made sure I would remember her. After that, I ordered some food and a few more drinks. Then I called for the bill, tipped Jeeves five pounds, and left.

Outside I discovered my tires had been slashed, so I set off walking. On the way back I stopped off on London Road and bought a bottle of rum and a packet