THE CLIP CLOP STOPPED
 

AUDIO HORIZON
 

and THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR OPERA
 

 
She woke me at about half four to tell me I was lying on the wrong side (supra – pubic catheter) and that she was leaving. I said thank you and rolled my body. Normally I would be grateful for being woken early but lately I have been having trouble getting to sleep at night so I was not grateful. I had just entered my sleep and was woken from the slumber. I watched her leave my room and I heard the front door slam as she left. All the pills that I have to take at night prevent me from dreaming so I lay on top of my sweaty sheets trying to remember what I had dreamt about. I could not remember so I turned onto my good ear and tried to go back to sleep.

I woke with a jolt to find I was lying on the wrong side again. It felt comfortable and it was still dark so I closed my eyes and I managed to fall back to sleep. SNORE SNORE SNORE. !!!!! I was woken as I heard a woman start singing scales in a Soprano voice. She was loud too. Her voice had broken my sleep and the silence of the pre-dusk. She sounded like an Opera singer. La la la la la la la !!!!! Why was she singing Opera in the middle of the night? She kept repeating the pitches in sequence. The darkness was silence apart from her booming voice. She sung her scales loudly and it sounded as if she was singing them outside my window. La la la la la la la. It was confusing. She had the voice of an angel and it sounded so beautiful but all I wanted her to do was shut up so I could catch up on the sleep I had lost. She stopped doing the scales and started singing an Opera in her big voice. Why didn’t somebody else call the cops? I would not call the police but I wanted her to cease and desist. Her voice wavered up and down like she had a bird stuck in her throat. She was singing a fat woman’s Opera but I could tell by the tone of her voice that she wasn’t fat. I imagined a big braided blonde woman wearing a golden Vesko helmet holding a trident and a shield. The highest pitch of her mezzo-soprano would not let me get back to sleep so I lay on my bed listening to her sing before I rolled on to my good ear. I am deaf that way.

I finally woke for real had a shit and a shower then dressed and went down the road to get a pouch of tobacco. The man in the shop knows me and gets it out from behind the big black screen when he sees me coming. I can’t get in because there is a big step that is too hard to navigate in my wheelchair. He normally raises his eyebrows for me to tell him how much money I have so he can organise the change. I yelled out what notes I had and he buggered around with the till. Everybody knows me in Bondi but that only helps sometimes. Next to the cigarettes there is another shop with a woman that specialises in metaphysical healings. The man came out of the tobacconist and gave me my change and the tobacco. I said thanks and placed it on my lap and turned to go home. I had only pushed the wheels on my chair nine times uphill when I turned the corner and saw the healer’s boyfriend walk out of her shop. I said hi and he looked down at the tobacco and the change on my lap. It is hard to describe the look he gave. I should have put it straight in my pocket. His gaze went to mine as I told him not to tell anybody that I was a dirty smoker. He half-smiled then coughed in a daze as he said, it’s just that it doesn’t fit your image.

I am used to people staring at me. They used to stare at me when I walked at six foot three. As a younger man it used to make me paranoid until I started playing rugby and learnt that people were staring at me because I was tall. It took meeting a mate that encouraged me to use my height and looks to realise that I had a power. Magnetism. The best nights would end with me in bed with a babe. I don’t remember how I did it but I have had a lot of fun. Every time a woman stared at me I knew what she wanted. Now women look with hope and determination when they stare. Most of the women I meet cock their head like they are talking to a dog when they call me an inspiration. They don’t see me as a man, with big hairy smelly testicles, but as a standard of never-ending hope and determination. I can’t even begin to tell you how that makes me feels. Because I don’t remember having an accident I don’t see myself as a disabled man, I should really go get help to overcome that. I want to meet a woman who will try and fit both of my balls in her mouth as she jerks me off. Sit down and I will tell you a story.

I pushed my wheelchair further up the hill and thought about how other people see me. The reason I go to the gym is because I have a goal to one day walk again. I go there as a task and am not a part of gym culture. Image? I am just a stubborn fool that doesn’t know enough. My friend laughs as he tells me that when I woke out of the coma I would whisper to him, just one please, just one, and hold two fingers up to my pursed lips. I can’t remember so I laugh. The story is funnier to my friend because I was lying in a hospital bed paralysed from the waist down with a tracheotomy wearing a nicotine patch. My de facto’s mother told me that I regularly wanted a cigarette and a beer when I had the tube in my throat. I woke from a brain-injury induced coma paralysed wearing a plastic skull piece and a plastic torso cast with a piece of plastic in my throat to help me breath and apparently I still wanted a smoke. The patches that I woke wearing never really worked. The patches may have stopped my physical cravings but they could never satiate the need. I still enjoy smoking a cigarette, I try not to think about the fact that it is just death a little quicker.

OHO

I got home rolled one and was enjoying it. I already know that people are now anti-cigarettes but I don’t smoke Hashish or Opium so I don’t consider myself to be any kind of monster. They sell it I smoke it. All I do is Inhale and Exhale. If you are reading this and judging me then you are a prude. I inhaled again then blew a plume skywards when I heard her coming down the street towards me, clip clop, clip clop, clip clop clip clop clip cop clip. The clip clop stopped. She had stopped walking, bugger I wouldn’t get to see her. I could hear by the sound of her footsteps that she was short and she was wearing heels, clip clop clip clop. I have a big thing for small women. I have been with tall women and I have been with short and believe me there is no difference. Well that isn’t exactly true, the difference between a tall and a short woman only lies in their neurosis, that and the things you can do with a small woman’s body when you’re fucking them. She started walking again. Clip clop clip clop. Where was this short woman going? The pace of her steps indicated that she was a woman going places. Most of the women I have met since I have become disabled have wanted me to serve their purpose and steal my thunder; they all hang on like limpets. I want a woman that needs me to accompany her. She will love me and we will share the pace. She will know where she is going and will be wearing blinkers but for me. I have always been attracted to smart women with drive and determination. A few different women (not all short) have made me their man and they have all been smarter than me. I want a woman that knows where she is going and I want to make her happy on the way. I always give the best of me and I know that I have made the women I have been with happy on the way to where they were going with my love. The short woman walking towards me was going somewhere; she was going somewhere fast. I could imagine her in her high heels as she click-clacked towards me at pace, she walked well in her heels and it seemed that was her personality. She was 100%.

It is a horrible thing to live your life in fear. A hostile woman once told me that I write too much about being disabled but this is all I now know; this is what’s real and tangible. Every fucking aspect of my life revolves around being a man with multiple disabilities. These are the only things that matter. I don’t write wanting people to feel sick when I write about being forced to have a supra-pubic catheter; I write about it because it dictates where and how often I have to go to the bathroom. I live in fear. The leg bag only holds 750 ml’s of piss and when it is full I will urinate out of my penis. I once had a bladder infection so bad that the piss came flying out when I hopped in the shower. I was so excited to see urine coming out of the right place but knew it was a bad thing because I could not feel or control it. It is a horrible thing to live your life in fear. My penis, my penis, my glorious penis once dominated all I surveyed. Veni, vidi, vici. I have only been with one woman since crushing my spine and she told me that it was confronting seeing the s-p c, no shit. Hearing a woman say that has put the spook in me. The physical disabilities I have incurred will require a strong woman to be with me. My Mum once told me that she is going to be “special”. It was a nice thing of my Mum to say and I do believe her but I resented the implication that I am now “special needs”. How special will she have to be? Will any woman love me enough to see past my physical flaws? If she lets me be her man I will give her everything. If she can withstand the horror of my reality I will make her the happiest woman alive.

The doorbell rang so I placed the cigarette down went inside and opened the door. It was my mate. He sat down and grabbed a beer when offered and started talking about her. He was talking to me as only two men can talk about a woman and making me laugh. She’s a nympho, he kept saying. That’s all she wants to do. All she wants to do is fuck two three times a day. When I walk in the door she literally jumps on me, he said, I feel like I’m being raped. I asked if he made her cum? Yeah, he said, she cums all the time but she can never get enough, she always wants more. I’m drained, he moaned, and my dick is red raw. I go to work building houses ten hours a day and when I come home she hasn’t cooked or even cleaned up and I still have to fuck her. She’s a lazy bitch, he said, she gives me nothing but her pussy. The only thing she wants is my sperm, I need somebody made of more than that. Centuries ago she would have been burned at the stake for witchcraft. I couldn’t control myself and laughed out loud. He raised his beer in front of his mouth then said, some women our age go a bit potty when they haven’t had a kid, before he took a slug. I laughed again out loud because it was true. I thought a moment then said, you selfish bastard. I raised my decibel as I shot back, what I wouldn’t give to be drained from too much fucking. I haven’t had a woman in years. They now stare at me without wanting to have sex. It’s horrible, I feel like an exhibition or as if I am in a circus. I shook my head, raised my shoulders and said whhuughughgh!! He laughed so I went on, if you think I’m joking or being dramatic I will lend you my wheelchair so you can push your arse down the street. It’s horrible the way women stare; it’s kind of a mix of pity and admiration. I can’t even stand so they can see the bulge of my dick. Do you think I feel sorry for you having a batty woman that wants to fuck all the time? Feel sorry for me wanking into my sock. He was laughing so I continued my bit. You selfish prick, I said smiling, I’m going to remind you of this the next time you haven’t got any. The next time you say, I can’t get any, I’m going to remind you of when you were getting too much pussy and were complaining. You selfish selfish bastard, I’m starving outside the window while you’re licking the plate clean. He was still laughing as he put down the empty bottle walked up to the chair and hugged my head as he left. I had cracked him up with my way. The funniest stuff is always true. Only the horny will know the meaning of life.

I picked up and put his and my empty’s down by the front door then went back to the balcony and relit the cigarette. I had to go to the toilet, my leg-bag was full and I knew it would be coming out my penis soon but I had to wait and see if she came back and what she looked like. The beer made me have to urinate. Beer is my enemy and still my best friend. I am horny all of the time but I cannot help that because I am a man. I miss the smell and the taste of a woman, I miss the things that only a woman has. The only time I am not thinking about sex is when I am asleep. Your husband or male partner, if you are a woman, is just like me so think about when you say, not tonight dear, that you are actually doing your man a disservice. Men love to fuck. Clip clop, clip clop was still in my mind and I could feel my dick had gotten bigger with my bladder almost fully expanded. My hand felt the width under my pants. Does clip clop love to fuck? I put the cigarette down. My balcony is in full view but I had to see so I elevated out of my wheelchair with one arm and pulled my pants down with the other hand. It was a third of its size and I wasn’t even excited yet. Yes, it looked big again. One of these days when she lets me into her knickers it will be full size; it has to, I have a big one and was born to make love to a woman. It started growing as I watched it proudly but I had to put it in my pants and sit back down because I am not a pervert. The best relationships start with sex, that is something real and tangible. The leg bag kept bulging and it started to hurt my bladder. The hurt travelled up me as gullet acid. My face flushed as I gulped it down. Hurry up, I whispered to her, let me see you and let me fall in love. I burped hot acid a second time and it made me feel bad. The click clack started again; good she heard me. I could picture her, a short petite woman that knows she’s sexy but full of indignation at man’s treatment of her sexuality. Her inferiority complex will make her better in bed, she will feel that she has to try harder and will go wild for a big man’s sex. She stopped walking again. Stop start, stop start. What was she doing? I hadn’t even seen her and she was already driving me crazy.

I had started sweating and the stomach acid was still burning my mouth when the clip clop started coming down the street again. The cigarette had gone out in my hand so I reached for the lighter when I heard it, la la la la la la la. Clip clop and the skinny fat Soprano at the same time. La la la la clip clop la la la. I could hear her coming towards me. Why does the skinny fat Soprano only start singing when I can hear her? I needed to go to the toilet so badly. The pain had shot from my bladder into my penis directly. I looked at my groin and the bulge was huge, yes. I looked down past the bulge to the street to see her. Was the la la clip clop? Is the petite sexy? Will she let me love her enough? The pain in my groin sent acid back to my throat again and I gulped twice. I relit the cigarette and elevated out of my chair to see her. I had to see her. Was she my sort of short woman? Clip clop clip clopped right past me and I saw that it was a five-foot Asian man wearing a shiny silver suit and black boots with a heel. La la la la la la la. My entire body flushed as I sat back down. I looked past the bulge of my penis to see the urine bag had burst open and my pants were wet. Bugger, I had pissed myself on purpose to see a woman that only exists in my imagination. I softened. My big penis had gone just like the urine down my leg. Obviously I need to get laid, I am hearing mirages. I sat back in the chair and my hand went down my leg to see how much I had wet my pants when it felt like she was about to sing again. My pant leg was saturated. Don’t, I said aloud, don’t you do it, not now that I’m covered in urine. I bent down and picked up the leg and found my shoe and sock on my right leg wet. Please do not sing now, this is not the time for Opera. I put my foot on the other knee and started to untie my shoe. She cleared her throat loudly and then started. She only sung two bars but she sang them loudly, La la! It sounded like a full stop. I removed the other shoe, the dry shoe, and left them both outside. Thank God tonight’s over, I wheeled inside and transferred from my wheelchair to the shower chair and took everything off. I had a shower to remove the urine and changed the urinary drainage bag.

My dick looked big as I showered thinking about her crazy sex and when she lets me inside. I was born to make love to a woman and I need her to let me prove my worth. When she lets me I will make her delirious for these are the only things that matter. These things are too silly for me to make up. Everything has become internal when all that I want is inside of her. I need to feel inside of her to feel inside of me. Inside of her is and will always be inside of me, it is the only thing that will make me complete. I am all alone but for these things inside of me and all these things that happen. Just give me one night baby. If you can give me one night of yours I will make you my woman. If you are reading this I am talking about you baby.

Come spend the night so that we can both hear the skinny fat Soprano sing in the morning. All I need to make you love me is inside

 
Aka – one night only: My GLOURIOUS PENIS la la and the clip clop urine jamboree
 

 
 
Andrew Stuart Buchanan II