Miss Thursday is in the bag.
Just as we manage to get some drinks, Pete spots his cousin Craig at the other side of the bar and we head over to meet him. From the looks of Craig’s t-shirt (‘I’m trying to give up sexual innuendos but it is hard…so hard’), I can see the pulling women thing is something of a family trait.
‘Yo Turnstile,’ yells Craig. ‘It’s good to see ya. How’s it going? It’s been a busy week with me solving everyone’s IT problems…’ Having just managed to shut out Pete’s work woes, I’m really not up for listening to his cousin’s problems too.
Luckily, we are all distracted by a group of girls making a loud entrance into the bar. The ring leader looks totally wasted, the slightly chubby ginger girl clinging to her arm is continually shouting her name, Pam, and appears to be as equally as drunk as she is. She also seems to have pulled up her skirt so high everyone in the club now knows the colour of her knickers.
Behind the two mouthpieces are the rest of their group and they all head straight to the now very crowded bar. Two of them in the group look very similar in appearance, although despite the similarity, one of them stands out more than the rest of the group.
It is almost as if she has stepped out of an enchanted garden with her wavy blonde hair, skin like bone china, full red lips and eyes a deep midnight blue. As I take a moment to absorb the image of this unusual girl in the floral dress, I notice that Craig has already stomped his way over there and is already making a fool of himself. The girl looks rather repulsed, and after a few seconds of conversation between the pair, it is clear Craig has missed the mark. Craig tries to coolly swagger back over to us and then shouts: ‘I THINK SHE’S A LESBIAN!’
Craig is clearly not one for admitting he sucks at getting a girl, neither is he one for realising how loud he shouts. The girl must have heard what he said. She starts to come closer and looks like she is going to lose her shit with Craig. Trying to stifle my laugh I decide to back away to avoid getting involved.
As I turn around to make my exit from the situation I am confronted by a pair of tits and I recognise them instantly. It’s Tanya.
CHAPTER 5
Pam has no shame. She is currently dry humping a wooden pillar at the side of the bar we’ve all just walked into. There’s not even any music playing in the background. Seriously she needs to stop acting like such an idiot and retain some of her dignity. And doesn’t she know that she is at risk of getting splinters up and down her legs from the wood?
This is the third place we have visited this evening and each place seems to have gotten grottier and grottier. We haven’t even got to Juicy Parrot yet. The guy behind the bar here has enough piercings in his face to start his own scrap metal company and the decor wouldn’t look out of a place in a 1970s horror movie.
I am sitting on a beer stained brown leather sofa, squashed between Martha, who somehow seems to be enjoying this evening, and Lucy who is lining up her next strawpedo. Despite being squashed like a sardine, I try to maintain a lady-like composure and sip my glass of white wine as the other two in our group, Ellie and Vicky, sit on the arms looking at themselves on their phones for the umpteenth time.
After staggering from her make shift podium, Pam stands right in front of us as if she was auditioning for X Factor, puts her hands on her hips and starts her fog horn impression again;
‘Right I think we are all suitably smashed so it’s time to head to….’
She leaves a pause and I am keeping all my fingers and toes crossed in the hope that she has finally tanked up to the max and wants to go back to the hostel.
‘BURRRRRRRRP….’ Just when I think she couldn’t lower her standards any further she decides to release the most noxious gas in all our faces. Please god tell me what I have done wrong to end up on a night out with this animal.
‘OOOH DEAR ME…well on that note lets head to JUICY PARROT! Wooohoooo!’ bellows Pam.
Shoot me now.
After a five minute walk and queuing outside for what seemed like an eternity we finally got into the questionable place that is Juicy Parrot. It lived up to all my expectations. Loud boisterous backpackers and sticky floors.
As Pam and Lucy make another spectacular entrance I do my best to distance myself from them and so does Martha. We head to the other end of the bar and get a drink there. As I wait for another glass of wine, praying that my liver can take it, I see that Martha has already caught the eye of a girl wearing a plain low-cut black dress with straight black hair, black rimmed glasses and red lips. She stands out from the crowd, quite tall and with biceps that make Madonna look like she hasn’t worked hard enough at the gym. She walks towards us and introduces herself in a beautiful Spanish accent;
‘Hi, my name is Chloe. What brings you both to Juicy Parrot?’
Despite her addressing this question to the both of us, it is quite clear that she only wants to talk to Martha. And Martha clearly knows she wants to talk only to her, as she begins to move closer to Chloe. As they get deeper and deeper into their conversation I get pushed further and further to the side lines taking on the usual role of third wheel. Martha has clearly pulled. This is when I start wishing for a handsome man to come along and whisk me off my feet.
‘My names Craig’ shouts a big fat sweaty guy, so close to my face that I get my own personal spit shower from him across my cheek. This guy isn’t handsome, he is horrific.
‘Hello…I’m Ruby,’ I respond, pulling out my best British accent, aware that this guy was looking for any female mouth to stick his tongue in. As he touches my arm I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I just want this leech to go as far away as possible from me. His beer-soaked breath is hot and heavy on my cheek as he says:
‘You have pretty eyeballs. Of course they'd be better if they were eyeing my pretty balls.’
I swipe his sweaty hand from my arm and venomously hiss at him; ‘Get off me you scumbag! That is not a way to speak to any woman.’
His hamster-like cheeks begin to turn a pinkish colour from embarrassment, and then in a desperate attempt to save face he turns away to shout across at his friends.
‘I THINK SHE’S A LESBIAN!’
Martha and Chloe must’ve clocked what had happened as they are holding down my arms in order to prevent me giving this guy what for, for the rude and ignorant comment he just made. It’s then that I notice his friend who is trying to stop himself laughing over what has just happened. He looks confident and self-assured. His hair is brown, he’s tall at around six foot and he has broad shoulders. He is wearing an expensive tailored navy suit and white shirt which makes him seem older, but I guess he is probably roughly the same age as me, in his late twenties. I can tell from his divine green eyes that he is a total and utter charmer. I am not sure whether I should be falling in love with this guy or telling him he is an absolute arsehole.
As my rage over the incident begins to subside and I take in the lout’s friend in a bit more detail, I feel a sudden release from my arm as Chloe removes her acrylic nails that had become almost embedded in my skin as she tried to restrain me.
‘Don’t bother with that pig, he is just proof that evolution can go in reverse,’ she whispered, and I laugh out loud, turning away from Craig and his friends. But I can’t stop myself from wanting to look back again at Craig’s well-dressed friend. As I turn, I see that his eyes focused on the chest of Pamela Anderson’s cute Asian counterpart who is wearing a plunging teal dress cut so low I wonder if she has it on back to front.
I’ve decided. He’s an arsehole.
After what feels like an eternity pretending to enjoy the latest pop drivel pumping out of the stereo, the sound system finally shuts down indicating its closing time, which is perfect timing for Pam as she is being dragged out by her hair by the security guy after leaving her Technicolor mark all over the guy’s shoes.
Just as we step out of Juicy Parrot’s I see Craig sucking the life out of some poor girl. He has clearly met his match. Her t-shirt is emb
lazoned with the words ‘I love my lady humps’. I am glad I avoided that sleaze and I am glad that at 4am in the morning we are finally heading back to the hostel.
As the more sober one of the group I am given the task of dragging the remains of Pam across the pavement to the hostel, and as she is such a good friend of mine now I make every effort to ensure her lumpy body feels every part of the Sydney pavements on our journey back.
When we finally arrive, I commit the ultimate sin by just going to bed with my make-up and clothes on. Not even my Mum’s nagging voice in the back of my head is enough to pull me from this hostel bed and stop me falling asleep.
* * *
After what feels like ten minutes of sleep, streaks of light flutter across my eyelids and I realise it’s no use attempting to lie in. I can hear all sorts of weird noises - people shuffling and talking in different languages. As I fully open my eyes in readiness for the next day of strangeness in a foreign country I am greeted by the large brown eyes and scruffy mop hairdo of Andre who has popped his head over the bunk.
‘So how was the first night out in the bright lights of Sydney?’
‘Horrendous,’ I reply.
‘Looks like you won’t be spending much time hanging out with Party Pam then?’
‘I’d rather eat my own eyeballs than spend another evening with her.’
I suddenly realise I may have said that too loud and she may have heard, but as I look over to her bunk I see that she is still in a comatose state and probably won’t be awake until sometime this afternoon.
Andre then swings down from his bunk and crouches down to my bunk;
‘I’ve only got a short morning shift today as I am doing the clean-up shift at the bar and I wondered if you fancied walking around the city a bit with me. Just to clarify this isn’t a date or anything, you’re a nice girl and all but you just aren’t my type. I hope I haven’t offended you…I’m not saying you are ugly or anything…in fact you are quite pretty…just I don’t have that attraction to you….’
‘Andre…please stop talking…you are digging yourself a hole, yes I’d be keen and don’t worry despite seeing you naked I have no attraction to you either.’
‘Ah okay…glad we’ve cleared things up. I’ll meet you outside the front entrance at 3pm then?’
‘Sure, see you then Andre, I’ll make sure to stand a couple of steps behind you so people won’t think I’m your girlfriend.’
Andre looks back at me slightly open mouthed and then after seeing the smile on my face realises I am joking and lets out a small chuckle which sounds as if a small toddler has been tickled with a feather.
As he leaves the dorm, I think about everything that went on last night and let the realisation that I have actually left the UK and made it to Australia sink in. The first evening may not have gone to plan, but there are plenty more days to come, plenty more days to fully enjoy this country. Oh god, I need to stop thinking about things as it is making my head pound, which is probably due to the fact that I drank my bodyweight in alcohol last night. I get up out of my bunk in the search of a glass of water to help my hangover and as I do so I see a blonde bombshell sitting up in the bunk opposite me.
CHAPTER 6
I tug at her peroxide blonde hair as I push my tongue further into her mouth as she lies on my black silk bedsheets ready to get and give some satisfaction. I want it fast and I want it physical.
Her dress is already strewn over my bedside table and my shirt and trousers are a crumpled mess on the floor. It’s time to get down to business and make this Thursday a night of delight.
She’s already gagging for it; she is wet and ready as soon as I put my fingers inside her. Sometimes it is just too easy with Tanya: one phone call and she's already on the verge of coming.
The foreplay doesn’t last long as I slip on a condom and enter her and begin to rock back and forth with pleasure. I watch her mouth round in an o-shape and push deeper and deeper until I hit that ecstatic moment of climax.
As I break myself away from her, she looks at me breathless with a starry gaze in her eyes and whispers ‘Well that was fun!’
‘Glad you enjoyed it,’ I wink back at her as I edge slightly away from her across the bed. The first time she slept with me she snuggled up to me post-coitus and I immediately wanted to throw her across the room. I do not do after-care. I don’t need cuddles. Plus, I am not her boyfriend. If a girl wants a boyfriend they need to look elsewhere. I want and enjoy the bachelor life.
After the first ‘hug-gate’, where I wrenched her slender yet solid arms from my chest; I laid down the rules with Tanya and told her straight that we are just friends, albeit friends with benefits, and if she wanted to snuggle up to someone either she needed to find another guy to do that with or she needed to get herself a teddy bear.
That doesn’t stop her getting ideas in her head though. Sometimes she thinks that she might be the one girl who can change this playboy into a respectable and monogamous loving man. When she starts the talk of ‘have you ever thought about having a girlfriend’, I immediately shut her up by giving her a mouthful of kisses. It works every time and before she knows it; it’s time for round two.
I met Tanya through GirlmeetsBoy… god how I love that app. It is basically sex on tap. You just keep swiping and typing until you get a girl is who ready and waiting for you to take her clothes off her and show her a good time. Although there is a catch.
There can be girls on that app who look like total babes in their picture and would definitely score an 8 or 9. When you meet them in real life it’s a different story - they look more like a Babe of the pig variety, and if that’s the case I usually summon up a fictitious sick Uncle and scarper home to put the fishing rod back into the online dating pool and hope for a better catch.
Tanya matched her picture, right down to the same tight-fitting fluorescent pink strappy dress and six inch black stilettos. We had a drink at Buoys Bar by Darling Harbour, followed by quite few more drinks and then…well you can guess the rest.
Tanya seems to love the fact that I am a few years older than her. She told me that what attracts her to me is my self-confidence and my good job in the city. She seems to forget to mention though that I am also dynamite in the sack: maybe she wanted to spare my blushes when telling me how much of a stallion I am. I can be such an arrogant fucker.
Luckily, she has never asked what I like about her as I don’t think the answer of great tits and a compliant pussy would be the compliments she was looking for.
Image over substance is important to Tanya when it comes to friends and boyfriends. This is clearly evidenced by the fact that she refuses to go anywhere without having a suitable amount of bronzer on and a tonne of mascara on her face and that any guy who approaches her without a suit or any girl who hasn’t decided to raid the whole Crayola collection and put it on their face is a ‘bogan’.
Tanya once said that I remind her of Clarke Kent but without the glasses: I can’t remember how much alcohol she consumed before she told me this but it must have been a lot. I think secretly she hopes that I think she is Lois Lane. Maybe I could introduce this as some sort of role play. The thought of this is starting to make my ticker lively again and I wonder whether Tanya is still awake and up for another root.
As I turn over in the bed to see whether she is as horny as I am I see that she is already flat on her back in a deep sleep and taking in large gasps of air. This is one of the downsides of having Tanya as a fuck buddy; despite her deluded sense of reality as to how she thinks men should be, she snores like a rhinoceros in heat. It’s not ladylike in the slightest.
As I watch her cause a small earthquake in my flat I wonder whether I should recommend one of Mum’s psychology books to her, just to point out that I am the bad example and the guy you should avoid, not the good example that may appear mischievous but is actually an angel underneath. However, I am enjoying the random sex too much to burst her bubble just yet.
Occasionally I pity he
r for pinning her hopes on the fact that one day she will change my ways, so I take her out to a nice restaurant for dinner rather than inviting her back to mine. Besides it’s nice to have some eye candy to look at while munching on some steak rather than having to look at Pete from work dribbling all over the place and adding another gravy stain to his shirt.
After a long day of work and play I feel my eyes begin to shut ready for the adventures of tomorrow, already preparing for kicking Tanya out in the morning. It can be exhausting entertaining the women of the world, so I decide that I will let this week’s potential Miss Friday enjoy life a little longer without meeting the wonderful Ryan.
I think it is time to chill out with the boys after work instead. Besides it’s important to put the bros before the hos anyway.
CHAPTER 7
I wipe my eyes again to make sure I am not still asleep and to check that the rather handsome chap with the beautiful blonde hair in the bunk opposite is real and not a figment of my imagination. I look down at my hands and see that I have black marks on the back of them.
Shit…I really should have taken my make- up off. Now I am going to look like a panda that has been dragged through a hedge backwards. Unless, since the 24 hour plane journey here and last night, the latest fashion embraces the local bag lady look I am not going to make the best first impression on the blonde bombshell.
As I look back from my stained hands and up to his top bunk I see that he is beginning to get changed, grabbing clothes from his backpack at the end of the bed. I sit up a little, thankful that I have the bunk with the prime view of his strip tease.
And the vest is off…ding dong. This guy has a body to die for. He must have sensed that I was watching him as he turns the back of his blond head along with his gloriously tanned and toned body towards where I am sitting, mesmerised.
When Love Meets Lust Page 3
