The Bottomless Pit

I went out and bought a computer. Everybody has a computer. So I figured I needed one. But all I use it for is to watch pornography on the internet. It’s a bottomless-pit-of-pornography machine. You can find all kinds of stuff on there. Fat, pregnant, orgy, feet. Sometimes it’s hard to find a man and a woman having good old fashion hardcore sex.

The other day I was watching a guy with a stereotypically huge dick fucking this cute little redhead. Except his dick was so big that her lips were all skewed and half in and half out and she looked like she was dry as a bone. She kept saying ‘Ow’ and ‘Careful’ and ‘Take it easy’ and her face showed she was in pain. I didn’t watch much of that clip. Honestly, who in the hell could get turned on by that? Whoever they are, I don’t want to meet them.

So anyway I went down to PC World and the man in the shop asked me what I wanted the computer for. I didn’t feel comfortable saying it was because everyone seems to have a computer and that it was the key to a wealth of pornography. So I said I wanted it for word processing. If that was true I should probably have saved myself a few quid and bought a typewriter and a nice writing set.

‘Casual internet usage?’ he asked me.

He had big yellow spots on his chin and I wondered why he hadn’t squeezed them. I was dying to squeeze them.

‘Yeah I guess’ I shrugged, hoping that by seeming blasé he wouldn’t suspect me as some dirty internet porn fiend. But I thought I saw something in his look that showed we understood each other. I bet he was a dirty internet porn fiend. He certainly didn’t have the looks or the charm of a womaniser.

So I walked out of the shop with my new laptop and for once I was grateful for my shitty job and disposable income.

I had a guy from work come over and sort out my internet connection. It was completely beyond me. He figured out that the woman downstairs had a wireless connection and that I could sneak onto that if I knew the passwords or could figure them out. I had a few guesses but no luck.

Rather than spend money on all the stuff I would have needed to buy I went downstairs and knocked on her door and asked her if I could just pay her a bit every month to share the connection.

Her name was Hayley and she was hot. I wasn’t even sure if she was pretty. She was so hot it made her eyes go funny just looking at her. And she was always dolled up and looking her best. She opened the door when I went down and straight away my vision went.

I bungled an explanation about my internet problem and suggested my idea of paying her monthly. I was making eye contact with her the whole time, practically straining myself with the effort of not looking at her tits. Amazing they were, her tits.

‘I didn’t know you had a computer’ she said.

‘I just got one. For word processing and casual internet usage.’

‘I tell you what,’ she said and looked down thoughtfully. I took the opportunity to get an eyeful of those tits. Amazing they were. Great globes that jutted perfectly out from her creating an awesome chasm of cleavage. I thought I was subtle as anything but I’ll bet I wasn’t. She brought her head back up and my eyes were darting all over the place, trying to make eye contact with her again. ‘Why don’t you pay nothing, but just promise to help me out if ever I need a favour.’

She smiled. I smiled and agreed. I’d have smiled and agreed if she’d slammed the door in my face.

She gave me the password and I went up to Nick, the guy from work who was sorting out the internet. He typed it in and I was up and running, that bottomless pit gaping in front of me.

Nick stayed round til after it got dark. I didn’t know him all that well and I was itching to get on the computer so I was pretty keen to get rid of him. As payment for sorting out the computer I had bought him a load of beers. But being a decent guy he opened them there and then and shared them with me. The longer he stayed, the more I got to like him.

He was divorced. I was surprised when he told me that because he was a pretty young guy. But he’d graduated from university up in Glasgow and almost immediately married his university girlfriend, apparently much against the advice of the guy who was going to be his best man. A year or so in and the relationship was belly up. He moved down to London before the divorce was finalised but the whole thing went through without any trouble. He was quite an interesting guy. Except he worked in IT.

We finished the beers and I showed Nick out. He staggered out the front gate and I shut the front door. Once he was out the gate he wasn’t my responsibility any more. He seemed pretty drunk and I wondered if he’d be alright getting home. I saw him at work the next day so I knew he was fine.

On the way back up to my flat, I passed Hayley’s door. I thought about paying her a visit and giving her some chat but a nanosecond later I decided it was a bad idea. I went back to my flat and threw myself into that bottomless pit.

It was about a week later and the novelty of internet pornography hadn’t yet worn off. I was aware of the indignity of it all and occasionally I got the chills but I was happily in the middle of a phase. It would be over soon enough. I hadn’t yet processed a single word.

It was evening and there was a knock at the door. I performed the frantic scurry that has greeted such interruptions throughout many a life and opened up a browser window on my computer that showed something, anything that wasn’t obscene.

I was composed as I could be when I opened the door. Instantly my vision went funny.

‘Hi’ I said.

She was wearing a flannel dressing gown done up very tight so there was actually very little to look at. She was still hot though.

‘Hi’ said Hayley. ‘You don’t happen to have a whisk I could borrow do you?’

‘Yes I do. Come in’ I said.

I have quite a lot of cooking stuff. I like cooking and I’m not bad at it. I’d slacked off a bit since moving into my flat and had had to start cooking for one. Cooking for one’s no fun. But I haven’t always had to cook for one.

Hayley said she couldn’t come in and had to get back. I gave her the whisk. She was very grateful and said she’d have it back to me tomorrow afternoon. I told her to take her time but she was halfway down the stairs when I said that.

I went back to my computer. Porn’s a weird thing. When you look at it objectively it’s ridiculous. And you’re ridiculous. Undignified, degrading, sinister, odd, sad. The trick is to not look at it objectively.

A lot of the sites came up with adverts saying things like CLICK HERE TO FIND WOMEN IN CRAWLEY and LOOKING FOR SEX IN CRAWLEY? CLICK HERE. The thing was, I wasn’t living in Crawley. I’d never even been to Crawley. I guess I lived sort of near to it in that I’d heard of it and if I got in my car and drove far enough I could probably find a road sign to it. But the fact that these sites could be accessed from anywhere in the world and were advertising the women of Crawley was a mystery. I figured that the sites had somehow tried to pinpoint the location of my computer and had just been a bit out. Or perhaps Crawley was going through some kind of population crisis and needed virile loners and porn addicts to fertilise its women. Either way, I didn’t really care.

Over the next week, Hayley must have come to my flat five times to borrow a variety of kitchen utensils, always in that tightly done up bath robe. I didn’t mind. She always cleaned and returned everything by the next day but it was getting suspicious.

As I handed over my colander one night I asked her what she was making. She hesitated a second and then said ‘spaghetti Bolognese’. Then she smiled and I melted a little and she ran back downstairs. Her explanation added up but I didn’t believe her.

Then one night I was carrying out some casual internet usage, trawling around looking for something new in porn. I came to one of those webcam sites. What happens is a girl has a webcam on her and people watching write in what they want her to do and she does it. I guess she can’t do it all because I bet there are some pretty crazy requests. But she pretty much does what she’s asked.

There was a list of girls’ names. I picked one called Chrystal Chandler because I loved how tacky it sounded. Plus I’m a big fan of Raymond Chandler. So I clicked on her name.

Straight away my vision went funny. I studied the screen. I studied the form of the woman. It was all there. The long dark hair with a touch of blond, the tan, the outstanding tits. It was definitely her. There was Hayley, naked as she could be.

And then she was gone. She got up and left the picture. She left the camera running. I didn’t read any of the dialogue or anything. I was checking out her flat. It looked cool. She certainly kept it nice.

There was a knock at the door. I froze for a second. Then I pulled myself together. I opened a browser window without porn on it and went to the door. I opened it and my vision went funny.

‘Hi’ said Hayley.

‘Hi’ I said.

‘Do you have a cheese grater I could borrow?’ she asked.

I didn’t think about it and I didn’t say anything. I just went to the cupboard, got the cheese grater and gave it to her.

‘Thanks’ she said, running down the stairs. ‘Back tomorrow’.

I heard her door slam. I closed mine slowly and went back to the computer. Hayley came into shot holding the cheese grater. MY cheese grater. And I won’t tell you what she started to do with it at the request of some guy called elbowf17. Whoever he is, I don’t want to meet him.

I looked over at my kitchen area. I looked at my whisk, my rolling pin, my garlic crusher, my ladle, my colander. I tried to remember if I’d used any of them since getting them back. Then I remembered that thankfully, I only seem to eat takeaways and microwave dinners. I certainly wouldn’t be using any of them again. Or my cheese grater.

I looked back at the screen. She was still doing it.

I could have ignored it. I could have made her a gift of all the utensils she’s used. I could have thrown them all away, bought new ones and kept replacing them every time she borrowed and returned them. But instead I chose to reveal myself as the porn aficionado I had become.

I created an account with the website and under the username of himupstairs sent Chrystal Chandler a request: KEEP MY CHEESE GRATER.