Brilliantlove Page #2

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What?

I sat on it.

Nearly tore me in half.

I think he must have been a virgin,

'cause he didn't really know what to do.

All the other girls

must have been scared away.

Not my filthy girl.

Not me.

I rode him till his face

went red and his head exploded.

When I got off him,

my p*ssy farted

and spunk gushed out of me

onto his stomach.

So much spunk.

I'm going to come.

Are you, you dirty f***er?

Thank f*** for that.

You can wipe that up.

What?

What the f*** are you doing?

Have you seen it back there, Manchester?

Have you seen that?

Piss off, perv boy.

You close your legs.

I'll close my eyes.

I'm completely naked,

crawling around on all fours,

meowing and purring

and acting like a cat.

In the room, there are 10 or 15 men

who are all wanking into a saucer.

When the saucer is full of come,

the cat comes along to lick it clean.

I finger myself

and come around my finger

about ten times.

My p*ssy keeps squeezing my finger

while I keep rubbing my clit

with the other hand.

You would love the smell

of my fingers right now.

My dick's disappeared.

What did you go in for?

You've got to, haven't you?

It's the seaside.

Do you ever think

about dying, Manchester?

I think that when you die,

you'll be the same

as before you were born.

If you die before me,

ask if you can take a friend.

Do you want to buried or cremated?

I want to be buried, not burnt.

I want the worms to eat me

so I can go back

to where we all came from.

What about you?

Cremated.

Why?

I like fire.

Hello?

Is that Franny?

Hi, yeah, it's Manchester.

Where are we?

You know what you

were saying last night?

What about?

About the future.

Yeah.

Well, we're at Franny's house.

Who the f*** is Franny?

He's this bloke I met.

He said he might be able to help us.

Help us with what?

I'm not sure.

What the f***, Manchester?

What?

Why do you always have to do this?

I thought this was our story.

It is.

You're a f***ing dick, Manchester.

It'll be all right, baby.

Let's just see what happens.

Big fat f***ing dick.

Come on, Noon.

Don't be like that.

Manchester.

Come on.

Manchester.

Good to see you.

I'm glad you decided to come.

You must be Noon.

Hi.

Come over and meet the wife.

Everything is going to be okay.

Promise.

Leah, this is Manchester,

the photographer,

and his girlfriend Noon.

This is my wife, Leah.

Hello, Manchester.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

Hello, Leah.

Hello, Noon.

Hi.

I like your shorts.

Thanks.

Right. Come on.

I'll show you to your room.

Join me downstairs for a drink

when you've settled in, guys.

Why did that man

call you a photographer?

F*** knows.

Where did you meet him?

He drinks in the George.

He drinks in the George

and lives in a house like this?

This place is mental.

What's he do?

I don't really know,

but he said he might be able

to get me a job.

What are you thinking about?

Nothing.

Let's go downstairs.

I can't go down looking like this.

You look good.

I feel dirty.

I'll see you downstairs.

Don't leave me, baby.

Prick.

Sleep okay?

What you having?

Whatever you're having.

Where's Noon?

She says she feels dirty.

Come on.

I want to show you something.

So what do you think?

What is it?

This is what I do, Manchester.

What, you're a housewife?

No.

Oh, you watch porn.

No.

I make porn.

Well, not porn.

The word suggests a complete

lack of artistic value.

Look, whether it's writing,

pictures, films,

what interests me is art

that arouses sexual desire.

Nice.

That's how I met Leah.

What, Leah's a porn star?

No, no.

Not anymore.

She's doing a PhD now in erotology.

Come in.

Hiya.

Is everything okay?

Mmm.

Where's Manchester?

He's downstairs with Franny.

Would you like me to run you a bath?

Yes, please.

I am telling you, kid.

You, you can be a real art star.

We can have an exhibition

arranged in no time.

I don't know.

It's just photos of me

and my girlfriend f***ing.

You can make a lot of money.

Money don't interest me, though.

Money is like sex, Manchester.

Only too much is enough.

Do you think... do you think...

do you think Noon wants to live

in a bloody garage forever?

No.

No, she doesn't.

It just seems a bit weird,

though, Franny.

Your morals aren't your bowels, kid.

Losing control of them

don't mean you end up covered in sh*t.

You think I should ask Noon

what she thinks?

Well, if you have to swallow a frog,

don't look at it too long.

Eh?

Open wide.

# If I promise to settle down

# With you forever by my side

I think he's hurt.

Wait here.

Where are you going?

Don't leave us!

I'm telling you, Steve.

This kid is the real deal.

Yes.

Right.

Thanks, darling.

Yeah.

Hang on, Steve.

Manchester?

What are you doing?

Sorry, Franny.

I'm in a bit of a rush.

Sorry about that.

Yeah, yeah. No problem.

I'll bring him down.

Okay.

What shall we call him?

Peace Frog.

What have you got in there?

Peace Frog.

What you doing with a frog?

Peeling its moons.

What?

Peeling its moons.

Have you been drinking?

What's going on, Manchester?

Nothing.

We're healing its wounds.

It's injured.

Off his head.

I was having a really

weird dream about a mouse

with a side parting in his hair.

He was using a human earlobe

as a punch bag.

I love you.

Don't worry about it. It'll be fine.

No, it'll be fine. Trust me, trust me.

Come on.

Come on, Manchester.

Let's get going.

So what's your technique?

No technique.

Just instinct, a couple of Instamatics,

and a willing girlfriend.

Yeah, she's amazing.

The beauty is that it takes less time

to make the photographs

than it takes for people

to look at them.

I think the beauty is

this rejection of lighting,

the lack of choreography.

It leads to images

without artificiality.

This is the real thing.

Exactly.

We have work to do, gentlemen.

Indeed.

Yeah.

Here, I've got you something.

F***ing hell, Franny.

You just carry on taking those pictures.

You're back at last.

I'm as horny as a field of stags.

Look at this, Noon.

I've had a wicked day.

I'm going to f*** your brains out.

# Silver trees

# Pinwheels in the snow

# No, we didn't see you that year

# You kept your shutters closed

# But I've been sleeping

# To your face

# And I've been talking to your songs

What do you think?

F***ing hell, Franny!

That is you.

Noon, Noon, Noon.

I've got something to tell you.

While I was on holiday in Greece,

I met these two brothers.

They took it in turns

to f*** me in my hotel room.

One day, the younger one

took me to the beach

in the early morning

and told me he had a surprise for me.

He pulled down his trunks

and showed me a tattoo on his dick,

one of those temporary ones

you stick on.

It was of a dolphin.

I pulled my bikini bottoms to one side,

and we f***ed there and then

in the sand.

He bit my neck as the waves engulfed us,

and I rode that dolphin

until it was sick inside me.

This one took ages.

In the end, I could feel it coming,

and it nearly ripped my p*ssy off.

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