UKArchive



UKArchive ID: 9972Fast Tracker by thegeeza
Originally published on December 20, 2004 in Fiction

A squeak and then movement of the red velvet curtain told her someone was coming through the window. She ducked under the quilt and squeezed her eyes closed when she heard what sounded like a sack of potatoes dropping to the floor.

Who is coming through the window? It's not Santa ...

812 words.








She woke up and listened, doubting her consciousness. She could hear a tap-tap-tap sound coming from somewhere: incessant, short and sharp. She looked at her clock, her Gin-addled mind trying to make a connection. She pulled up the duvet, exposing her gnarled and yellow toenails. A squeak and then movement of the red velvet curtain told her someone was coming through the window. She ducked under the quilt and squeezed her eyes closed when she heard what sounded like a sack of potatoes dropping to the floor.



‘Leave me alone,’ she cried. ‘Take what you want and go.’



‘Hmmm,’ said a voice. ‘An interesting proposition, babyyyyy.’



She kept still and waited. The tone of the voice bothered her. She opened her eyes slowly, but no light came through the bedclothes. She considered that maybe it was a dream, that nothing had happened. She carefully pulled the duvet down and looked into the darkened room. She studied each shadow cast by the pale moonlight and tried to work out why it was there. She reached across for her glass of water, desperate to lubricate her pasty mouth. It was empty.



She jumped backwards when something started to scramble up on to the bed. She cried a dry and noiseless scream and heard a voice calling out:



‘Jap! Jap! Get down! Jap!’



The movement on her bed stopped. Margaret felt warm liquid spread out onto the sheet and over the top of her thighs. Her sodden nightdress felt heavy, the urine dripped onto the bed, playing percussion with the sound of her fast-beating heart.



‘Sorry about that,’ said the voice. ‘Blasted dog.’ Margaret heard the dog yelp as it was slapped.



‘What do you want?’ said Margaret.



‘I’ve bought you some chocolates. Milk Tray. The lady loves Milk Tray.’ She tensed as he walked near. ‘Here.’ He placed them on the bedside table. She swallowed as he sat on the bed. ‘I’ve admired you for a long time.’



‘Who are you, and what do you want from me?’



She heard him scratching around near the clock. The empty cup fell to the floor. ‘I can feel the stem,’ he said. ‘It feels hard … and strong.’ The light blinded her temporarily. ‘What do I want?’ he said. ‘I want to make passionate love to you, Mrs Thatcher.’



She felt her blood run colder than usual, making the urine burn between her legs. No one had wanted her for a long time. She squinted and saw her potential lover. It was Blunkett. David Blunkett.



‘How did you get in here?’ she said.



‘I climbed up the drain pipe.’



‘How?’



‘Jap guided me.’



‘How did he know where to go?’ she said.



‘Jap’s eyes are good,’ he said.



‘You’re telling me, babyyyyy,’ she said, her hand stroking his growing parliamentary member.



He stood and picked up his white stick. He guided himself to the far side of the room and started to undress. Two passports fell from his pocket. Jap walked around the side of the bed and wagged his tail. Margaret stroked his head and he licked her fingers. She kept watch on the butch figure of the disgraced ex Cabinet minister as his knobbly frame exposed itself, piece by piece. She became aware of the dog pushing its head under the quilt. He had picked up the scent of her urine and was making a determined effort to investigate thoroughly with his snout. She tried to push him away, but the Labrador was young and strong. She watched Blunkett’s white Y-Fronts fall around his ankles. He stood erect and displayed the most magnificent penis she had ever seen. It was oak class and beat anything she had downloaded from the internet. As Blunkett looked down to place a super-size condom on his old chap, the dog made a determined effort to reach the source of his curiosity, at which point Margaret brought her knee up quickly and knocked the dog flat on its back.



Blunkett walked towards the bed, using his working eye to guide him home. His tattoos made him look like Robbie Williams with a pervert’s face. His eyes welled with tears as the sharp smell of ammonia reached his nostrils.



‘This is gonna be some cross-party committee, babyyyyy,’ he said.



‘You have a sizable majority, Mr Blunkett. Why don’t you use it to do some good?’



He drove his campaign bus straight into her constituency and they made love like excited teenagers for five seconds, before he stopped, lay still for a while and satisfied himself with the occasional flinch.









They finished and lay in bed, smoking pot and drinking Gin, listening to the injured dog whimper.



‘You are a fantastic lover, Blunkett,’ said Margaret. ‘So masterful. What’s your secret?’



‘I do everything just the same as everyone else,’ he said, breathing out a large plume of smoke, ‘just slightly quicker.’





**The end** (until the next reshuffle).


© thegeeza (thegeeza on OLD UKA)
UKArchive ID: 9972
Archived comments for Fast Tracker
discopants on 2004-12-20 05:40:07
Re: Fast Tracker
What a disgusting image! I'm going to have nightmares about this now and it's all your fault.

Good read, though.

Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-20 07:00:03
Re: Fast Tracker
Thanks, Disco ...

Author's Reply:

flash on 2004-12-20 18:29:06
Re: Fast Tracker
wrong category you looney tooney!!!


Should be in Romance...well i woz moved.

Flash

Author's Reply:

deepoceanfish2 on 2004-12-21 03:28:44
Re: Fast Tracker
Dear God!

I must agree with disco on this one......
I may need extensive therapy after this.
It was bad enough picturing her with Reagan!

Aaaagggghhhh!!!!

Cheers,
Adele 😉



Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-21 04:44:15
Re: Fast Tracker
You ol' romantic you.

Author's Reply:

Claire on 2004-12-21 06:18:55
Re: Fast Tracker
I think I'm in a state of shock!!!!! And nowt shocks me!!!!!

I can't believe I kept reading it till the end! My mind, you've warped my mind!

I don't know if I enjoyed this, but it was a jolly good read, and it made me laugh and wince alot!

Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-21 06:34:48
Re: Fast Tracker
It's based on fact too - allegedly. A fella in a pub told me. Can't remember who.
Thanks for reading.
Steve.

Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-21 08:22:49
Re: Fast Tracker
🙂
Glad it made you laugh, anyway!
Steve.

Author's Reply:

HelenRussell on 2004-12-21 08:43:49
Re: Fast Tracker
Not at all what I expected as I started reading, so why did I keep reading? Because it was funny and I couldn't wait to get to the obviously up and coming( ! ) punchline.
Great stuff
Helen
ps Christmas Greetings

Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-21 10:36:48
Re: Fast Tracker
Helen,
Thanks - glad you thought it funny.
Christmas greets to you too ...
Steve.


Author's Reply:

glennie on 2004-12-22 16:06:33
Re: Fast Tracker
Very funny , Geeza. Robbie Williams with a pervert's face? Isn't that Robbie Wiliams?

Author's Reply:

TheGeeza on 2004-12-23 07:02:58
Re: Fast Tracker
Glad you liked it ... yeah, agree re: RW!


Author's Reply: