Oliver Stansfield

The Hypothetical Bus

“If I was hit by a bus tomorrow,” she said darkly, “how long would you wait before screwing someone else?”

He gave her a look, sensing trouble.

“Who says I would screw someone else?”

“Oh come on…” she teased, “of course you would…”

“I don’t know… a couple of years, maybe?”

“And who would it be with?” she pressed.

“I don’t know who it would be with! I haven’t even thought about it!”

She took a sip from her drink and raised her hand to stop him.

“It’s only a hypothetical question. I’m not going to think that you’re actually going to do it…”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and gazed around the empty bar.

“I don’t know. No idea… a taller version of Scarlet Johannsen, maybe?”

“Oh come on,” she said again. “There must be someone real? How about… Stacey.”

“Stacey!?”

“Yeah, Stacey. She’s got nice tits!”

“Nice tits!” He laughed. “That’s what you think I go for?”

“Well don’t you?”

He suddenly realised the traps snapping at his heels.

“I like your tits…”

“We’re not talking about me! Stacey has nice tits. I bet she’d be good in bed, too.”

“Oh god… Okay, imagine I got hit by a bus. What about you?”

“What about me?” She asked innocently.

“Who would you sleep with?”

“Oh.” She paused for about two seconds. “Probably Derek.”

“Derek! What? So you’ve thought about this before?”

“There’s no need to sound like that. It’s only a hypothetical… Anyway, Diane says he’s incredible.”

“Oh great…”

“He has a massive cock.”

“A massive hypothetical cock…”

“No, a real massive cock.” She smiled again.

“Good for Derek…” He sighed.

She drained her drink.

“Good for Diane…”

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