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Hey, how's it going?

Me? Fucking awful.

Seriously. I never want a blowjob again.

What happened? Buy us a drink and I'll tell you.

Heh. Knew you couldn't resist a good story.

So, you know that I've been living out in the country with Jake and Nate, and temping in the city, right? So I've been taking the train in every day. It's a long ride, and there's normally no-one on when I get on.

But today, I'm going down the carriage, and see this girl sitting up ahead, with her back to me. Little axolotl girl, all smooth pink skin, short, but well curvy with a big arse and tits, and with those big frilly gills instead of hair, you must've seen one somewhere.

So, as soon as I step into the carriage, I notice this smell. You wouldn't recognise it, but I did- lady juice, you know what I mean? And she's breathing heavily, little grunts and all little stifled moans. And I creep up - yeah, I can be quiet when I want to be - and I see she's got one hand up her skirt, this other in her shirt, and she's talking to herself, too. 'Ah.. no, not here... please, stop...' But she keeps on flicking herself off, right there on the train.

What d'ya think I thought? Some amphib with a fetish for being forced in public? 'Course I was going to try my luck! So I go out the carriage, and come back in, making plenty of noise, so you could hear me in space. By the time I get level with her, she's tucked her shirt back in, and you wouldn't know it, 'cept for the smell.

So I sit down opposite her, and give her a big hyena grin. Good for breaking the ice. But she just gives me a polite little smile and a brush off. I try to get her talking, saying about how I hate journeys with no-one to talk to, but she's having none of it. The train fills up, and we're getting near my stop. But then my luck changes at the stop before mine.

We pull up, and she stands up to get off. But then - she shivers, like some kind of fit. I thought she was going to collapse, but no. She grins, like she's got a plan, and leans in and whispers in my ear, 'You want a blow job? Follow me.'

Yeah, I know, if it seems to good to be true- just bloody wait.

So I scamper after her like a happy puppy, and she's waving this big frilly tail in my face- well, by my legs, but you know what I mean. She heads to the toilets, and ducks into the mens. I follow, and lock the door behind us. And then-

No man, I just- there was this flash of a look on her face. Like she was utterly terrified. But just for a fraction of a second, then she's all horny again. She pushes me against the wall, and kisses me. You ever kiss an amphib? Fucking hot. Their skin's all smooth, it felt like her mouth carried on round her muzzle.

She breaks off the kiss, and runs her fingers down my shirt. Unzips me. And then kneels and just lick the whole length of my cock.

Hey, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, but I'm no gentleman.

So I lean back and really enjoy it. She clamps down, it's fucking awesome, she's tight, moist, and her tongue is ripping down. And then I hear her sob, like she's choking. So I look down, 'cos I don't want vomit on my work trousers. And she's crying.

Not a little, I've-filled-my-throat-and-it-hurts-a-bit, proper crying, like her dog just died. I'm like, 'Hey, are you alright?' and then she does the most terrifying thing any woman can ever do.

She grabs my balls, spits out my cock, and says, 'Don't fucking move or I'll bit you dick off.'

Yeah, laugh, you fucker, but it weren't bloody funny then.

And then she fucking hilts it, all the way in her throat. Like some porn star, her lips are up against my groin, and she's crying again. I'm about to shit myself. I can't get her off, not without her biting me, she's clearly insane, and she's doing some swallowing thing that feels so fucking incredible I can't even go limp. She pulls off and speaks, and it's muffled by cock, but it sounds like she's saying 'How much do you really like it, bitch?'

So I can't figure out what to do with my hands. I end up waving them in the air like mad, 'cos I don't want to touch her. And she looks up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks, and fixes my eyes, like she's desperate for me to do something to stop this. And I can't.

She's bobbing her head up and down, and it's like the best blowjob I've ever had. I can't help myself. I just look down at her and whisper that I'm gonna cum. And she squeezes her eyes shut and opens wide. I see each spurt going into her mouth.

And then she stands up. And opens her mouth. And she's got this expression, like fear, like it's the worst thing that's ever happened to her. Just staring at me, 'til she eventually closes her mouth and swallows. And then she just looses it. It's like someone cut her strings, man. She collapses, screaming out that she's sorry, claws at the door, and she runs off, tears everywhere, and I'm left to clean myself off.

No, I don't bloody know what the fuck was going on! The look on her face, you would've thought I was raping her, but she's the one who threatened me!

So yeah. Never stick your dick in the crazy. I ain't letting anyone's teeth near my dick anytime soon.

****

Okay, I found out more 'bout that girl.

Y'know, the axolotl.

I was not bloody making it up! Why would I make up something that trauma-fucking-tising?

Well, I suppose you did get me a pint.

Yeah, I do fancy another.

But I ain't making this shit up.

So I'm on the train again, and in an empty carriage, and then she walks in. And I'm all, 'Yeeh!!' and running away, but she was trying to explain. She says she wants to give her reasons.

So- I'm never getting the chance to say this again- so I say 'Are you crazy? Is that your problem?'

And she looks at me, pouting like she's gonna cry (again). 'No, but my husband is.'

I go cold, 'cos I don't like to mess with married girls. 'Specially if the husband's crazy. I tell her that, and she says, 'He knows. He's been dead for three years, and he knows!'

I re-asses who the crazy one is. But then she explains, and my mouth fucking drops.

...

Sure I'll go on, but I'm getting a touch thirsty, what with all the talking.

Ta mate!

Anyway, three years ago, she's newlywed, driving away from the church with her axolotl husband, and she's all looking deep and loving into his eyes, and vice versa, and then suddenly she's looking deeply into the grill of an eighteen wheeler heading the other way, and then she wakes up hooked to the machines in an intensive care ward.

Yeah, I know. They didn't even get to consummate it. Cruel world, huh?

Anyway, the first thing she asks is where her new hubby is. And everyone looks at their feet, as they explain what happened to them.

When they got to A&E, they found she was in a bad way. Most of her was okay, but it was a shame the way the back of her head had come off, along with a good chunk of her brains. The low down bit, brainstem, I think it's called. Of course, she's an axolotl.

They can survive if a bit of their brain gets transplanted.

Yeah.

So they go searching for a match, some poor dead sod they can take to pieces for spare parts. And the find one, lying on the next bed. Her husband's been torn apart. Not much of him's left, not enough for even an axolotl to regenerate from, so they take his brainstem, and put it in her.

And the fucked up thing is, it works. She makes a full recovery (as much as you can when you're a widow at twenty). It's only much later, after the doctors have stopped watching her so closely, she starts hearing the voices.

Voice.

It's her husband. She thinks it's her imagination, at first. But then it gets stronger. He's always with her. And then he starts to control her body, too.

It must have been quite a shock, when her arms started moving by themselves, and her own lips whispered sweet nothings to her.

See, he loved her. Really. He came back from the dead, inside her own head, he loved her that much. And for a while, it was great. She had her lover, he had her. But there's always trouble in paradise, ain't there?

Starts out with disagreements. She want to watch Sex and the City, he wants to watch the footie. Must have been a hell of a fight over the remote. And then he wants to talk to his friends, and is always letting slip weird things, things she couldn't know. And then there's his habit of slipping lewd comments about her friends into the conversation.

But pretty soon, she finds out that he can't keep her hands to himself.

He'd always loved touching her up when he was alive, and now he can feel it too, he loves it a little too much.

She was sat there on the train, with her head down, telling me in this tiny little voice how her dead lover virtually raped her with her own hands.

Apparently, he'd hardly wait till she was through the door at home before diving between her legs. She got so many freaky sex toys he'd ordered though the mail, she didn't have anywhere to keep them.

And all her family and friends started to give her really weird looks. See, they thought she was over it. She had this sly little smile, and brush off of saying 'He's always with me,' at first. But when things got worse, he'd leap into the conversation, and stop her from saying anything.

Eventually, it all came to a head. They fought - I dunno, must've yelled into a mirror - and she told him she wished he'd died. That he wasn't inside her head. And she said she wanted to move on with her life.

And he fell silent. Not for long, though. He started making comments to her, under her breath, when she saw a man. Asking her what it would be like to get fucked by them. Telling her she's going to be sucking them off, because she's such a slut.

He's so pissed off that she didn't want him, wasn't satisfied with the voice in her head. And she can't stop him. And eventually, one day, he takes over her body, forces her to blow some guy she met on the train.

Apparently, she spent most of the rest of the day crying in a cubicle. Couldn't believe what he did, and had to feel all of it. And in the end, she decided to tell me about this, so I'd know she wasn't - well, that she was crazy, kind of.

And so I'm sat there with a stunned look on my face. What can you say about that kind of thing? Nothing, right? But I've had to say something. The girl was crushed, and she just - it was like all the hope had gone out of her world, you know?

So she got up to go, head down. And I grabbed her arm, and said, 'It's okay. It's like - it's not your fault, right? It's like you're possessed by a ghost.'

And she stared at me, like she hadn't ever thought of that. And then her face changed, and it was fucking shocking. It was like I was looking at a completely different person - 'cos I was, he'd taken over. He was snarling, 'Leave us alone!'

And I was right back in his face. It might sound weird, as he had tits, but the way he was standing, the way he moved... it was a man alright. 'What, you're ruining her life, just 'cos you don't know when to move on? I should just let you do that?'

He's all like, 'We were happy! Leave us alone!' but he was hissing it, trying not to attract attention, as the train was filling up. There were a bunch of people down the carriage, anyway. So I hissed back, 'You're the one that's ruining everything! You want her for yourself, but you've got nothing to give her, have you? You're just a ghost, haunting her and not letting her live her life. If you really loved her, you'd know when to let her be herself.'

And then her face changed again, but to her. I let go of her arm, and she staggered a bit, and was all shocked and stuttering. She said she was sorry I got dragged into this, but that she'd be okay - she didn't need my help, and then she walked off.

I don't know. I could have tried to follow her or something, but I get the feeling that she's had too many people she can't avoid inserting themselves in her life. I guess it's something she'll have to sort out herself.