A Steaming Headache

All this nonsense has given you a headache, a pervasive, steaming, all controlling headache. Massaging your forehead doesn’t work. God, you need relief. None in your rucksack. There’s a lot in there, but paracetamol is not one of them.

It’s all stress. Calming down would help. But how do you calm down?

Sex? But with who?

{If Blair >=5} Blair? She’d be up for it. Except Blair’s form of physical exertion emphasises the stress on the male. Would she ride the stress out of you, or would she hammer the headache deeper?{endif}

{if Krystal >= 5} Krystal? You get the impression she’d fuck you anywhere and everywhere. But sex isn’t the answer. Not with Krystal. {endif}

No sex isn’t the answer. Then why did your mind jump immediately to sex? That has never been your first port of call before. Was it the feel of Ellie as you carried her to the nurse; her youthful body pressed against you, her deep brown innocent eyes pleading with you? Or was it the memory of Kelly’s legs, and the flash of her knickers?

Thoughts like that just add to the headache, not alleviate it.

No, you need to do something else.