SO LOVED BY BIRDS

“Do my double chins offend you, love?” Percy Pine asked, beaming at Mavis and
bending his head down a bit so the chins could be viewed to full effect.
“Only when they wobble!” replied Mavis and tittered at the boldness of her gin-
brave joke.
Percy grinned and impersonated a turkey. He wobbled his chins and made turkey-
type gobbling noises. Mavis sniggered.
Percy puffed out his pot belly and pointed at himself. “This is one turkey
you’ll soon be gobbling!” he told Mavis.
Mavis spluttered into her drink. “Percy! You nearly made me choke!” she
rebuked.
“I will later,” Percy promised her, grabbing his groin, “with this!”
Mavis threw back her head and laughed.
Percy strolled over to pour drinks and eyed Mavis in the mirror. Christ, was
she ugly! Ugly but attractive. Attractive in that she was almost drunk and almost
willing. This drink should do it. Then it would be sucky-sucky time.
Ah, sucky-sucky! Ah, South East Asia! Prior to meeting Mavis, Percy had liked
to pretend he was a Vietnam War veteran. As he had lived all his life in a small
English coastal town, the locals understandably found this difficult to believe.
Unperturbed, Percy hung around the town in a wheelchair, dressed in combat
fatigues, with a small monkey on his knee, begging.
Apart from the begging which brought in some cash, Percy found that it
presented an ideal opportunity to sit and lust at any nice looking passing chicks.
Not that he had the slightest chance of pulling any of them, being a small, fat,
balding, ugly bastard.
One day during a lull in begging an idea slowly crept up on Percy. It sneaked
up on him like a stroke. The idea was this : why not start a dating magazine for
ugly bastards!
The exact opposite kind of dating magazine for the well-tanned, well-hung, big-
titted, beautiful fuckers. They’ve got it all the bastards - the money, the looks,
the good jobs, the big houses. How do these cunts get bored!? But they do, the
ungrateful bastards! Then they advertise to fuck each other!
So Percy came up with this idea : a dating magazine for ugly people like
himself who hardly ever get laid. He would call it : ‘Percy Pine’s Dating Magazine
For Ugly Bastards’.
“Might work,” mused Percy, as he considered the idea. “It’ll make a change from
having a wank if it does.”
So he started up the magazine and within a month was snowed under with replies.
My God - there were thousands of ugly people out there! All dying for a shag!
Part of the application process was that anyone who wanted to join had to send
in nude photos of themselves so that Percy, as editor, could place them in the
magazine next to their advert. That way he got to lust over or laugh at them first
and reply to the best of the worst.
Mavis was indeed an ugly fucker but had nice lips which Percy, with little
encouragement, could imagine round his cock.
Her advert had also intrigued him. It ran like this : ‘Can’t find my G spot.
Don’t expect you will either. Looking for Mr Sandbar. Must have a small penis,
dandruff, gastric problems. (Christ, he was half-way there!) Chain smoker
preferred. Alcoholic desired. Your place or mined.
Percy loved that last mis-spelled word - mined. How well he had imagined it in
his dreams. Vietnam. The land mines. The small huts in a jungle setting. Peasants
talking in a semi-sexy, weird foreign language. The sweet smell of opium in the
air. Falling in lust with a brown skinned, black haired, slanty-eyed beauty. Her
fanny fitting like a glove! Her lips fitting like a velvet glove! Ah, sucky-sucky!
Sucky-sucky! That to him would be South East Asia! Fuck all that Buddhist temple
crap!
The thought of sucky-sucky caused Percy to start tenting.
 Emboldened by half a bottle of gin, Mavis reached out and started stroking his
semi-erect organ through his cheap flannels.
Percy quickly laid down the drinks and collapsed on the sofa beside her and
fumbled out his cock. “Go down on me, Mavis!” he rasped. “Down! Down!”
Mavis delayed the moment. As women do. She held Percy’s cock and then hovered
over it, like a hawk watching a mouse. Which in relation to the size of Percy’s
cock, was an apt comparison.
Percy closed his eyes and groaned. “Go down on me!” he muttered hoarsely, his
head sinking back onto the sofa. “Down! Down!”
There was a hint of a fluttering rustling sound and Percy glanced up and his
mouth dropped open. For there, before his eyes, Mavis had adopted that fine, soft-
feathered look, so loved by birds.