The Drought (The hilarious laugh-out loud comedy about dating disasters!) (21 page)

Over three months of sexual
frustration built up inside me. This was my moment, I had to take
it. I looked deep into her eyes, moved forward and...

“
Another glass
of wine?” I found myself leaning forward to pick the bottle up. I
could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“
Sure,” she
said trying to hide her impatience and holding her glass out. I
groaned inside. She was ready, and I missed my opportunity. My
shot. My moment! What if I had blown it? This was getting beyond
ridiculous. I started to overthink things. What if I got the
signals wrong? What if I tried to kiss her and she just wanted to
be friends? What if I couldn’t get it up? Oh why did I plant
that
seed of doubt into
my mind?

The single biggest fear men
have is not being able to get it up. This is a bigger universal
fear for mankind than nuclear war or al-Qaeda. The pressure can be
immense. A girl has nothing to worry about – she has to just lay
back and hope the guy lasts longer than 30 seconds. And there is
the second biggest fear. Sex with a girl for the first time leaves
the man feeling he needs to prove himself and perform like a porn
star, capable of lasting hours.

We live in a
culture where tales of hour-long sex marathons get splashed across
tabloid headlines and celebrity magazines. Telling someone you are
going to shag them all night long is always said with the greatest
intentions, but who seriously wants to bang away for hours on end?
It’s all bravado. If you manage to pull a double shift you are
liable to get a dull ache in the end of your throbbing penis about
10 minutes into the second stint. And if a girl comments on how
impressed she is with your stamina, it normally translates
to
hurry up and finish and get the fuck
off me.

The third biggest fear? The
size of your sausage No matter how comfortable you are with the
size of your manhood, there is always a doubt. Whether it is fear
of having a small penis or a fear of not measuring up to other
penises she has encountered.

There should
be support groups for men where quotes like
it is not the size of the sea, but the motion of the
ocean
hang on plaques across the
wall.

I could tell Grace was waiting
for me to make a move. I looked at my glass of wine and took a sip,
which turned into a gulp, which turned into me pretty much downing
the whole glass. I wiped my mouth ready to move in for the kill
and...

“
Oh for crying
out loud,” Grace said launching herself at me, our lips locking and
tongues slipping in and out like a hose that was no longer in
control. She shoved me back on to the sofa and straddled me,
lifting her top off over her head.

I put my arm round her,
attempting the old one-hand bra release. After a few seconds of
struggling, I resorted to two hands. But that wouldn’t work either.
I was now 10 seconds into my attempt to remove her bra. This was
precisely seven seconds too long. Why don’t these things come with
a manual? Grace reached round to assist and I almost knocked her
hand away just to prove I could do it. But I already realised I was
scoring pretty low on the sexy super cool stakes so I let her
remove it herself.

Now it was my time to shine. I
had always considered myself a breast man and this was an
opportunity to redeem myself for my so far not very impressive
performance. I started with the right breast, cupping it in my hand
like a stress ball and showing off my skills with my tongue. I then
moved across to the left breast so it didn’t feel left out.

“
Careful
babe,” Grace said. “Gentle.”

Brilliant. I couldn’t even get
the one thing right I thought I was good at. On to plan B. This was
basically to get naked as quickly as possible so she couldn’t back
out.

However, I managed to lodge
myself in no man’s land as I attempted to lift the shirt over my
head and arms at the same time. I was trapped, unable to see
anything and with limited use of my arms. I could only imagine the
expression a topless Grace wore on her face as she watched me
attempt to escape the customised straight-jacked I had put myself
into.

It was bad enough Grace had
needed to help me to take her clothes off; she now had to help me
take mine off too. Between us we finally lifted the shirt over my
head. My hair was a mess and my face was as red as a beetroot, and
we hadn’t even done anything yet.

Grace didn’t seem to care
though as she shoved her tongue back into my mouth and yanked at my
trousers. I took the hint and quickly removed my jeans as Grace
stood and removed hers.

She stood in front of me in a
small thong, sex in her eyes. I sat on the sofa with a boner,
wearing socks. It wasn’t the best look, but to hell with it. She
straddled me, rubbing

herself against me. I urged
myself not to prematurely ejaculate, especially when the only thing
that now stood in my way of sex was a piece of material the size of
dental floss. I reached to pull her thong down and she whispered
into my ear, “Do you have a condom?”

“
A condom?” I
asked. “Yes, hold on.” Of course I had a condom. I was a man
prepared. I reached down and pulled my wallet out of my jeans
pocket. Do you really think I would come all this way, get this
far, and not have a condom?

“
I don’t have
one,” I said, a look on panic in my face. “Do you have
one?”

“
No, I thought
you would bring one,” Grace said as her shoulders
slumped.

“
Perhaps we
could...”

“
I am not
having sex with you without a condom,” Grace cut me off.

“
I wasn’t
going to say that,” I protested, even though that was exactly what
I was going to say. This was not good. This was about as far away
from good as you could get. I had come so close – again!

“
Wait a
minute,” I said. “There is a shop outside the tube station. They’ll
sell condoms.”

Grace smiled and planted a kiss
on my lips. “Hurry up then,” she said. I jumped up off the sofa and
got dressed in record time. I think I even had my shoes on the
wrong foot and my pants inside out, but there wasn’t time for small
details like that. I had condoms to buy!

I raced out of the flat and
weaved my way in and out of the back streets of Tooting. I ran past
the local youths hanging out after dark, shot a left down the road
with a telephone booth, quickly hit a right past the barking dog in
the front garden, zoomed past the woman smoking on her doorstep
with her neighbour, cracked a right sprinting by a guy working on
his car, and navigated my way under the flickering street lamp on
my final left turn before making my way out on to the High
Street.

Standing
across from the shop I could see the owner starting to pull the
shutters down to close up. I had to get in there. Taking my life
into my own hands I dashed across the busy main road, ignoring the
car horns and screeching car brakes caused by my recklessness. I
dodged the old lady at the bus stop and practically leapt through
the front door
Indiana Jones
style. The shop assistant stared at me with a
bizarre look on his face. “We’re closed,” he said.

“
Please, this
is a matter of life and death,” I managed to say catching my
breath. “You have to serve me.”

“
I’m sorry,
sir, but we are closed,” he reiterated.

I slammed my hands onto the
counter. There was no way I was walking out of this shop without
getting what I wanted.

“
Look,” I
started. “I am sure you have had a very long day, and I don’t want
to keep you any longer than I have to. But you have to serve me. If
you had walked in these shoes, even for just one day, then you
would appreciate the sweat, blood, tears, and disappointment I have
endured these past few months. My whole existence depends on this
one moment.” I leaned forward and grabbed him by the shirt and
pulled him towards me. “You have to help me. It is your duty as a
fellow man.”

Okay, it was slightly over the
top but it did the trick. I let go of the shopkeeper and he nodded
at me, straightening out his shirt. “Okay, what do you want?”

“
A packet of
condoms,” I said it without flinching. “The ribbed ones,” I
continued, pointing over his shoulder to the shelf behind
him.

“
Are you
fucking kidding me?” the shopkeeper asked.

“
No,” I
replied. “They are ribbed for her extra pleasure.”

“
I am not
talking about them being ribbed you idiot,” the shopkeeper said
throwing the condoms down in front of me. “I’m talking about that
little speech.”

I simply shrugged my shoulders
and handed him the money. He shook his head in disgust, but I
didn’t care. I had condoms. I raced out and took a deep breath of
the night air. After all the doubt, all the barriers, all the
heartache and excessive masturbation, I was finally going to do
this.

All I had to do now was get
back to Grace’s flat on... what was the name of her street? I had
been in such a rush to get to the shop that I hadn’t really taken
much notice of the route I had taken. I reached into my pocket to
pull out my map. It wasn’t there. I must have taken it out at
Grace’s.

Wait, my phone! I’ll call Grace
and get directions. I fumbled in my pocket and pulled my mobile
out. The screen was blank. I clicked the call button. Still blank.
Shit, of course – the battery was dead! How could I be so
foolish?

Don’t
panic
I told myself. Just retrace your
steps. I crossed the road and started to walk past the side
streets, reading the road names to try and jog my memory. Longmead
Road, Undine Street, Valnay Street. None of them rang any bells. I
continued and decided to take the next left up Vant Road. I got to
the T-Junction at Eswyn Road. Left or right? I craned my neck back
and forth. That’s when I saw it – the flickering street light! I
remembered that.

I took the left and stood under
the flickering light; my hands on my hips scanning my options. I
opted for the right up Franciscan Road and kept running. I must
have been jogging for two or three minutes when I arrived at a
church. I bent over, my hands supporting my body against my knees,
trying to catch my breath. I was completely lost. I had no idea
where to go; it was hopeless. I looked at the church in front of
me. “Why God, why?” I shouted. I don’t know how I thought screaming
at a brick building would help. Perhaps I just wanted a sign.

Then I got it. Or at least I
heard it. It was a dog barking, the same barking I had heard
earlier. “Thank you, God!” I jumped for joy and started to run
towards the barking on Mantilla Road. My feet pounded against the
grey pavement for all of 50 yards before the barking was
immediately in front of me. I stopped in my tracks; my eyes trying
to adjust to the dark shadows of houses that surrounded me. I took
a step forward and the bark came through loud and clear once again.
I followed the sound and there it was.

Two eyes peered at me. They
looked like two miniature torches glaring off the street lamps. It
barked again, but this time with a much deeper and sinister tone to
it. The gloss of the dog’s fur beamed off the moonlight. I stopped
dead in my tracks. Not 10 feet in front of me appeared the
monstrous figure of a bloodthirsty hound the size of a horse,
stalking its way toward me.

“
Good doggy,”
I pleaded with my hands out as I slowly stepped backwards. The
beast stared straight at me and I swear at that precise moment, he
grinned at me, before stampeding in my direction.

I screamed and turned on my
heels in the opposite direction back down Mantilla Road, across on
to Topsham Road. I kept running, certain the hound was in hot
pursuit. I didn’t want to look back. I felt the condoms fall from
my pocket, a final condemnation that this night was coming to an
end. I raced down to Upper Tooting Road and took a sharp right
towards Tooting Bec tube station. My night with Grace was well and
truly over.

Chapter 14:
Little White Lie

Sunday, April 12 - 2.03pm

Drought Clock: 100 days, 22
hours, 18 minutes

“
Okay,” Rob
said putting his pint down and waving his hands. “Let’s get the
facts right. Tell us what happened one more time.”

It was Sunday afternoon, and in
my hour of need I had called upon my friends to cheer me up after
the debacle of my second date with Grace. We had met in our
favourite Sunday afternoon beverage establishment – the Nelson Arms
in Clapham Old Town.

“
Things were
heating up and I was teasing the hell out of her. Really putting
her in the mood,” I launched into my version of events, deciding to
omit the truth of how I had fumbled my way through the foreplay. “I
was being real naughty, you know what I mean?”

“
Like flicking
the bean, and shit like that?” Jack asked, flicking his finger and
biting down on his bottom lip.

“
Yeah, if you
like Jack,” I said brushing his crude comment to one side. My
made-up version was much more adventurous than that. “Anyway, she
was bang up for it. Then I realised I didn’t have any condoms with
me.”

“
Schoolboy
error,” Rob said taking a sip from his pint and shaking his
head.

“
I know,” I
said, nodding in agreement. “Tell me about it.”

“
So you went
bare-back right?” Ollie asked, his eyes locked on me in total
concentration.