Surprisingly Down to Earth, and Very Funny. Limmy

me, grinding her arse into me, her maybe taking me into her room and making me do things to her. Making me do things with her arse.

      And then I started getting this feeling. A feeling like maybe my hard-on was getting even harder, even though it was hard already. There was a warm feeling in my face, and in my chest. I started breathing dead fast, like I was hyperventilating.

      Then I came.

      My cock took on a life of its own, and it started shooting this stuff out that had never come out before. I could feel these spasms, and a liquid hitting my belly and my chest.

      I just lay there for a second, not doing anything, not knowing what had happened exactly, not knowing how much of it there was or where it all went. I couldn’t see very well in the dark, but I could see some of it on my belly, shining.

      I touched it. It didn’t feel like pish. It was thick.

      Oh my God. Was this …?

      I put my fingers to my nose and smelled it, and it smelled like nothing that had come from my body before.

      It was spunk!

      Well, of course it was, but … I just didn’t think that I’d ever …

      Oh my God, I’d just spunked!

      I’d just had a wank, and I’d just spunked. I can spunk! I can spunk, I can spunk! I can spunk like other guys!

      I’m normal!

      That was the feeling. That was the big feeling. That was the big moment, the big realisation. I’m normal!

      I’m a man. I’m a fucking man. I could actually have weans, if I wanted. I’m normal! The circumcision thing, the undescended balls thing, forget all about it now, forget all about it. Because this here, this stuff on my belly here, this is spunk! Hahahahaha!

      It honestly changed everything.

      I told my mum that my clothes didn’t fit me any more, that they were wee boy’s clothes, all the other boys had better clothes than me. So she gave me some money and I went straight to Concept Man to get myself an upgrade.

      Because I can spunk!

      Millport: Rebooted

      Things just kept on getting better.

      When I was about 14, I went back down to Millport with my mum. I don’t know why, there was nobody there, and I had pals back in Glasgow. I probably fancied going to the arcades to play some games. In Millport, they didn’t chuck you out for being under 18 like they did back home.

      I went out for a walk, I turned a corner, and walking towards me was one of my pals from Glasgow. An actual guy I hung about with. That was a first. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

      I was like, ‘No fucking way. What are you doing here?’

      He was like, ‘What are you doing here? Since when did you come to Millport?’

      I asked him the same thing. We stood there astonished. I was delighted to see him. He wasn’t one of my best mates, but he was one of the crowd of folk I hung about with.

      I asked him what he was up to, and he told me he was on his way to meet up with some folk he knew, and I should come along.

      Too fucking right.

      I went along, and there was a big squad of people, hanging about. About 20 guys and lassies, having a carry-out, having a laugh. All pals. I got introduced to them all, and they all seemed decent, all welcoming, mostly working class but with a few posher voices, from around Glasgow or Paisley or Greenock or somewhere nearby. It was fucking excellent.

      There was a lassie I fancied, and we got chatting. And I got off with her that very night. The next night, the lassie got off with somebody else, and I was disappointed. But then the night after, I got off with somebody else as well.

      It felt like the swinging 60s to me.

      Then more people came to Millport, and I’d get introduced to them. Then more. More lassies, more guys. And it would be me doing the introducing. I came right out my fucking shell, so I did.

      I mean, I’d already come out my shell from primary school, and I had pals back in Glasgow, but this was different. This wasn’t a wee crowd of five or six of us floating about, like back home. In Millport there were dozens of us, and everybody was nice, or funny, or cool, or laid back. Everybody was brand new, everybody was on holiday, everybody was in the mood for a laugh. We’d all be coming out with patter, telling stories, or saying out-of-order stuff, it was fucking magic.

      I came down again and again for years, during the summer holidays and every other holiday available. In summer I’d be there for eight weeks or something, and it felt like the sun was shining every day, and it felt like every night was a Saturday.

      Tons of fucking pals, tons of decent people, no shady cunts. And tons of lassies. You know how there were boys in school that used to lie about what they got up to on holiday, they’d talk about these lassies they were with, or a girlfriend they had up at their granny’s bit? It was like that, except it was actually happening.

      It was a brilliant fucking time. I used to look back on it and miss it, how carefree it was. I even made a sketch about it in Limmy’s Show.

      So see all that stuff I was saying about the primary school years, about being alone, and those boys that said, ‘We don’t want to play with you any more’?

      Forget it.

      First Drink

      It was in Millport that I had my first drink. I was only 14, but that’s quite late compared to the other folk that were around me.

      When I first met all these people in Millport, I was the only one that didn’t drink. I didn’t like the state people got in when they were drunk back in Glasgow. They were a mess. They flopped about, they were half asleep, whereas I was hyperactive. I was like a fucking puppy, full of energy and excitement, and I wanted to keep it that way. I’d tell people that I didn’t have to have a drink to have a good time. I was full of that patter.

      Then, one night, I decided to have one.

      There was usually a big crowd of us, but all I remember from this time was that there were just the four of us. There was me, this lassie I knew, her boyfriend, and her cousin, who was this new lassie I’d just met. I was getting off with this lassie, the cousin. She was a nice person, with braces in her teeth. I think she was having a drink, and that’s maybe why I decided to have one, because if this nice person is having one, maybe I should have one as well.

      I asked them what I should get, because I didn’t want to be flopping about, I didn’t want to get in that state. So they recommended three cans of Bud. That was my first drink. Three cans of Bud.

      I drank them, and I liked them. I liked the taste. They were like cans of shandy you could get in a shop, not too strong.

      I waited to feel something.

      Then I started to feel it.

      This glow.

      I started to feel this happiness.

      I remember the four of us sitting in the Ritz Cafe, with me smiling from ear to ear, telling them that it was the best feeling I’d ever felt. I honestly couldn’t stop smiling. I had this big smile and a sense of well-being. The other three were laughing at how much I was going on about it.

      We went back to a house, where we just sat in the living room. Me and the cousin would get off with each other now and then, and the other lassie and her boyfriend would get off with each other on another seat. It’s funny how we’d all do that when we were young, get off with folk in the same room as other folk.

      I think the cousin left Millport the next day, and it was time for me to head home as well. We didn’t swap numbers or addresses