‘But the movie’s 2001.’
‘Yeah. That’s the movie. Space Odyssey.’
‘2001.’
‘That’s right, Les.’
‘So the security number’s 2001.’
‘No, Les. 1002. You reverse it.’
‘Reverse the movie?’
‘No! Not the fuckin’ movie, Les. The number. 2001 is 1002. You reverse it.’
‘Reverse it?’
‘Yes, Les! You bloody reverse it!’
Norton looked at Susie, looked at the box of numbers, then looked at Susie again. ‘But why?’
‘So you don’t get fuckin’ confused, you moron.’
Norton shook his head. ‘You’ve got me confused, Susie. And I’ve seen 2001: A Space Odyssey about four times.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s bloody sake!’
‘Susie. Just one more time and slowly. What’s the number?’
Susie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Two thousand and fucking one is the movie. Space Odyssey. 1002 is the fucking security number.’
‘The security number is 1002? Forget the movie.’
‘That’s right, Les,’ breathed Susie. ‘1002.’
Les looked at Susie, completely devoid of expression. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?’
Susie seemed to go a little funny. ‘Les,’ she said slowly, ‘why don’t we finish our coffee on the lounge. I think I’ve shown you all I can for now.’
‘Okay.’
They put their coffees back down on one of the tables and sat on the lounge with Susie on Norton’s left. She was shaking her head slowly and seemed to be staring at the floor as if she was trying to avoid eye contact with Les.
‘You know what your trouble is, Susie?’ said Les quietly.
‘What!’
‘Tension and stress. You’re that uptight, Susie, it’d take a tractor to pull a thermometer out of your blurter.’
‘You’d make . . .’
‘It’s all this work you’re doing,’ cut in Les. ‘Hairdressing, waitressing, rorting CDs. The bank manager pounding on your door. You don’t know where your boarder is. The break-in. Plus a death in the family. It all catches up, you know.’
Susie gave a little sigh. ‘Yeah, you could be right, Les. I have had a lot on my mind.’ She moved up the lounge a little closer to Les. ‘It’s not all peaches and cream for a single girl trying to survive in the city.’
‘And Uncle Les understands.’ He put his arm around Susie’s shoulder and she rested her head on his. ‘You know what you need?’
‘No, Les. What do I need?’
‘A nice rub. Just round your neck and shoulders. Get rid of all that stress and tension. Before the rivets in your boiler pop.’
‘You think so, Les?’
‘I know so. I can see so.’
Susie let out a little breath. ‘Yes, you could be right.’
‘Well, why don’t you sit down on the floor in front of me and I’ll give your neck a rub.’ Susie looked at Les. ‘Take five minutes. Then I’ll give you a lift out to the airport later. Save you catching a cab.’
‘Would you?’
Les nodded.
‘Oh, that’d be great.’
‘Now, do you want a rub?’
‘Okay. Why not?’
Susie took a cushion from the lounge and sat on the floor with her back and shoulders between Norton’s knees. Les rubbed his hands together for a moment, then got gently to work.
Susie did have a few tiny knots in the nape of her neck and her shoulders were a bit tender, but her skin was smooth and lightly tanned with just enough muscle tone to make Norton’s job interesting. He worked his fingers in softly but with just enough pressure to break up any little lumps and bumps that might have been troubling her. Before long, Susie was crooning and sighing and moving her head in tune with Norton’s gently probing fingers. He held her head with his left hand and did the right side of her neck and held her head with his right hand and did the left side of her neck, at the same time managing to massage her scalp and both her shoulders.
‘Ohh, boy, that feels good,’ she crooned.
‘I told you,’ said Les. ‘I’ll have those evil spirits and tensions out of you before you know it.’
‘Mmmhhh, will you ever.’
Les rubbed and squeezed, then ran his thumb up and down Susie’s spine through her shirt. ‘Do you want me to do your back while I’m here?’
‘Okay,’ replied Susie, then she stood up. ‘Wait till I get some oil.’
Susie went to the bathroom and returned with a bottle of baby oil. She handed it to Les, then took off her shirt, let it fall to the floor and stood in front of him for a moment in a pair of blue lacy knickers and a white bra. Norton swallowed hard and several beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Les rubbed some baby oil on his hands then sprinkled a few drops on Susie’s back and away he went again, rubbing and caressing, moving his big hands clockwise then anti-clockwise.
‘Ohh, Les. That feels unbelievable.’
‘That’s . . . good,’ panted Les, glad that Susie had moved forward or she would have been leaning back against Norton’s pounding third leg.
Les poured more oil on his hands, then ran the heel of his palm up and down Susie’s spine with long, even strokes. Susie sighed out loud. With a quick, easy motion Les unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor also. He ran his hands over her back and shoulders some more, then moved her to him and ran his hands around her nice firm stomach and two lovely, firm little boobs. They felt delightful, the oil made them shine and in no time Norton’s massaging had the nipples sticking up like two tiny, pink jelly beans. Susie’s stomach started to heave and her breath seemed to tighten. She twisted on her side a little and looked dreamily, if not slightly angrily, up at Norton.
‘God, you’re a bastard, Les,’ she said.
‘Me?’ Norton looked surprised. ‘Why? What have I done?’
‘You know what you’ve done.’
Les shrugged. ‘Buggered if I know. I’m just trying to be nice.’
‘Yeah, nice. You despicable, low shit!’
They looked at each other for a moment then Les bent forward and kissed Susie right on her luscious soft, red lips. She returned Les’s kiss avidly and snaked her arms around his neck. They kept kissing. Susie’s tongue came out as Les kept softly massaging her stomach and boobs with one hand and the nape of her neck with the other. Their kissing got hotter and hotter till it almost started to sizzle. Les ran his hand down over Susie’s ted and found it just starting to get soft and moist beneath the lacy blue knickers. She opened her legs for a while and Les kissed and stroked, then stood up and grabbed Norton by the hand.
‘Come on,’ she said.
‘Come on? Where?’ asked Norton innocently.
‘Ohh, where do you bloody think, Les. You arse-hole.’
Norton shook his head. ‘Funny way to talk to an old friend who’s trying to help you,’ he said as he stood up and let Susie lead him into her bedroom.
As she shut the door behind them, Susie looked directly at Les. ‘You haven’t got any creepy crawlies or been hanging around with any low molls or old poofs lately have you, Les?’
‘Not me,’ assured Norton. ‘I’m a heterosexual Christian and disease-free. Just ask my doctor or the local vicar.’
‘Good! Because it’s been a long time between drinks for me. And right now I’ve got the rhythm, so let’s go.’
‘God bless you, Susie. You’re a better friend than I thought.’
By the time Les had his clothes off, Susie’s blue knickers had vanished and she was lying back on the bed, legs apart, knees up a little and a pillow under her head. Norton climbed over her, ran his lips and tongue over her boobs and stomach, kissed her neck then her eyes and lips, all the time his knob resting about a centimetre from her lovely little, well-trimmed ted. Susie squealed and kissed Les hungrily as he ran Mr Wobbly around and in between her legs for a moment. Susie began to wiggle her backside around and by no
w her breathing was starting to sound like she was making cappuccino. Les kissed her a couple more times, raised his backside and slipped Mr Wobbly about halfway in; Susie gasped and went cross-eyed. Les stroked a couple of times then raised his backside again and buried the lot.
Susie choked off a scream and now it was Norton’s turn to go cross-eyed; he started pumping away as chills ran up and down his spine. As Susie wiggled and squealed underneath him, she kicked her legs up in the air and kissed Norton’s neck and lips. Norton could scarcely believe how tight and sweet Susie was; he groaned inwardly as Susie thrust herself up at him and hoped he wouldn’t explode too early. Christ! To think blokes go to gaol for this, sell drugs, rob banks, commit murders, start fights, lose houses, ruin their lives. Susie kicked up again, Les caught her knees in the crooks of his arms, lifted her legs up over her head and sank in a bit harder and deeper. Jesus! No fuckin’ wonder, he moaned to himself, this is unbelievable.
They started getting into it. No fancy stuff, just stroking steadily away with plenty of kissing, licking and caressing thrown in, then it started to get too good. Les pulled out, got a towel from Susie’s en suite and wiped some of the sweat from them. Then he slipped a pillow under Susie’s behind, lifted her legs up again and went for it; slowly at first, then his legs started going like pistons. Susie squealed and howled, Les tried not to roar as his mouth hung open and he clenched his eyes tight with the sweet pain. Then he hit the vinegar strokes, gave it one last burst, and with a howl emptied out, nearly snapping his spine as well as dislocating Susie’s kneecaps. It was that good, Norton didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or settle for a mild heart attack.
They flopped on the bed in a lather of sweat; Les managed to use the towel again, then dragged a sheet over them and they both lay there. Susie seemed to have crashed, Norton was almost in a state of shock; that was one of the most sensational, yet sensuous, sessions of sex Les had ever had. It was beautiful and what made it better was that Susie was an old friend. And to think, she just lived round the comer and she was coming back in a week. He winked at a shaft of light coming through the curtained window behind the bed. Thanks again, boss. I love it when you throw these little favours my way. Susie appeared to be snoring softly and happily, so Les thought he might check out her bedroom.
There wasn’t a great deal to see. The old double bed was solid wood with a built-in light and, behind it, a thick black curtain was drawn across a sliding glass door that led onto the long, narrow balcony. There was a big wardrobe and a dressing table; the bed had a blue doona and faced the en suite. A few indoor plants sat in the comers and a few framed photos and smaller posters hung on the wall. The only thing unusual was a large, framed map of the universe and all the galaxies and constellations on the wall next to the bed. Like the kitchen, the bedroom was spotlessly clean and the bed was very comfortable. Les let out a contented yawn and smiled to himself. Yes, this will certainly do me for a week. Les was thinking about taking a nap when he remembered he’d promised to take Susie to the airport before long. He gave her a gentle nudge.
‘Hey, Susie. How’re you feeling?’
Susie snuggled her head into Norton’s chest. ‘Mmmmhhh! Good.’
‘Don’t forget you got to catch the plane at seven.’
Susie’s eyes blinked open. ‘Shit! What time is it?’
‘It’s getting on for two.’
‘Two? Shit! I’ve still got things to pack and I have to make a heap of phone calls.’
Les drew Susie to him, gave her a tender kiss and ran his hand over her backside. ‘Do you think we could find time for . . .’
Susie pushed him away. ‘No! Definitely not! In fact, you shouldn’t even be here in the first place. You took advantage of me.’
‘Advantage?’
‘Yes, you bastard. I was weak after that walk and you mercilessly seduced me. You took advantage of a poor defenceless woman. Bastard.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Blame me.’ Les narrowed his eyes at Susie. ‘Okay then, that’s it. I’ve been insulted. I’m not staying here now.’ Les made a half-hearted attempt to get up. Susie grabbed him.
‘Come here, you big shit.’ She kissed Les sweetly. ‘Do you want to know the honest truth, Les?’
‘Always, Susie.’
‘That was one of the best things to happen to me in yonks. You got under my guard with that massage. But, boy, it was worth it.’ Susie kissed Les again.
Norton kissed her in return. ‘And I’m glad I bumped into you, too, Susie. In fact, I can’t wait for you to get back from Melbourne. Especially now that you’re rich.’
They had a bit of a cuddle and a tease. Les was rapt. Susie was pretty happy, too. It had been a good day and no better a way for two old friends to catch up again. Finally it was time to make a move. Susie wrapped the towel around her and headed for the en suite. Les climbed into his shorts and T-shirt.
‘I’ll go round and get my car,’ he said, ‘and pack up a few things I’ll need while I’m here. By the time I get back you should be about ready to go. We got heaps of time.’
‘To tell you the truth, Les,’ replied Susie, ‘I wouldn’t mind leaving a bit early. Say, five. I have to meet somebody at the airport.’
‘Okay.’
Les gave her a quick peck, said he’d see her when he got back and let himself out. He heard the shower running in the en suite as he walked round the front and wouldn’t have minded being in there helping out with a loof. In barely five minutes Norton was at the front door of his place.
The mess was still piled up in the kitchen, in fact, if anything, there was more, and Warren and Isola were home and having a root somewhere. But where? The stereo had been left on FM and was playing in the lounge so no one heard Les come in or start tippytoeing around. He looked everywhere, but couldn’t find them. Then Les snapped his fingers. The most obvious place and he’d missed it. He tip toed along the hallway and put his ear to Warren’s bedroom door. Inside he could hear this very faint squealing and a low, muffled moaning and groaning. Mmmhh, thought Les after a few moments, the rooting seems to be getting very low key. I can’t see our two star-crossed lovers lasting till Saturday at that rate. Oh well, who gives a stuff anyway? I’m out of here. Les listened for a moment or two more, then walked down to his room and started throwing the things he thought he’d need in a large overnight bag. He tossed in some T-shirts, socks, gym gear, stuff to wear at work, shaving tackle, etc. Not a real lot; he was only staying at Susie’s for six days, not leading an expedition up Mount Everest. Les was in an extra-good mood as he packed and sort of whistled softly to himself. It was almost like going on a week’s holiday, and bumping into Susie like that would put a smile on anybody’s face. Before long, he felt he had everything he needed, including the latest Paul Mann novel, The Ganja Coast.
Les was about to leave, when he felt a rumble in his stomach and a short, sharp fart slipped out. The heavy bit of early afternoon porking had loosened him up and Les suddenly felt in need of a crap. And better to have one here than stink up poor Susie’s place. He walked down to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. From the sound of the way the water was hitting the bottom of the bowl, Les tipped it to be Isola. He waited a moment, then absently walked back into the kitchen.
Les peered around at the mess, the flies and the large box of Kleenex tissues sitting next to the kitchen phone, then farted again. The second one was a lot louder, hotter and smellier than the first one. Norton stared at the box of tissues, shrugged his shoulders and thought, well, why bloody not? After all, it is my house. I own it, and being the said owner I can do what I like. Can’t I? Yes, Les, of course you can. Les took off his shorts and Speedos, climbed up and straddled his arse across the kitchen sink and shat all over the dirty dishes. About three good-sized turds. Shit! I needed that crap more than I thought, mused Les as he climbed back down. He wiped his date with the Kleenex tissues and dropped them on the pile of fresh, steaming turds. I’ll bet they don’t even notice it, thought Les as he
put his shorts back on. Then he squinted his eyes. Christ! They’d have to. If Norton’s two farts were bad, the crap was diabolical. It took the flies around the kitchen tidy about two seconds to zero in on it for the picnic of their lives. Les didn’t bother to wash his hands in the sink. But he did open the back door in case there were any other flies outside who might like to join their friends in the kitchen for a free smorgasbord. Feeling better, and lighter, Les tip toed into his room, got his bag and crept quietly out the front door. The bathroom was still occupied as he left.
There was a parking spot just out the front of Susie’s, so Les didn’t bother to use the garage. He eased his old Ford ute in behind a white four-wheel drive, entered the security door outside, knocked on Susie’s, waited a few moments, then decided to let himself in.
Susie was sitting on a footstool near the TV in the comer, talking to someone on the phone. She’d changed into black corduroy jeans, boots and a thick, red-check hangout shirt. In the lounge, a tan leather jacket was thrown over a suitcase; it might have been summer, but Susie was going to Melbourne. She gave Les a quick wave. Les winked back, put his bag down next to an overnight bag that looked like it was full of CDs, and sat on the lounge. There was what sounded like a nice CD playing softly. Kind of Santana without the screaming guitar, and no vocals. Pleasant, cruisy music. Les settled back, listened to the music and half-earwigged Susie on the phone. It sounded like a woman called Carol. Finally Susie hung up.
‘Oh, boy. That was my sister. Can she talk! I see you brought your stuff.’
Les nodded.
Susie smiled. ‘One more phone call.’
Les watched her dial and settled into the music playing. It was still very laid-back, but good. From snatches, he could hear Susie was talking to some bloke called Joe. Les felt like going over and rattling through the CDs to see just what was there, but felt it might not be too prudent with the landlady in the room. Finally Susie got off the blower.
‘I gotta meet that bloke at the airport.’ She looked at Les. ‘So how’s things?’
‘Good,’ said Les. ‘I’m stoked having somewhere nice to stay while all that rattle’s going on round my place. Plus it’s good I can do an old china plate a favour at the same time.’
The Day of the Gecko Page 3
