Tales of a Bar Wench

    Chapter 1 

  Okay so it wasn't exactly the big smoke but Mackay was an average sized mining town that was as big as I was comfortable with. As far as I was concerned the bigger the better did not apply to towns. It had a Kmart and Target1 so all the conveniences a country girl could want but it was still small enough for me to a reputation. Not that sort of reputation, but people knew who I was, and that's nice. Who doesn't love it when your introduced to a stranger and they go "Oh you're her, I've heard about you, great to finally meet you" It's a real boost to the ego and puts a little spring in your step. Not too much of a spring though, as with puppies like mine anything more than a gentle bounce is likely to put my eye out. And before you even think it, yes they are real and yes they do get me a lot of marriage offers, mostly because my patrons are somewhat inebriated and male. Now when you have a woman with big tits, serving a bloke beer whenever he asks with a big smile on her face - they think 'Geez she's a bit alright' and they seem to forget that that they are paying for each one of those drinks and that since she's no dummy she knows the further she bends over, the greater the tips. A night at the pub with me as your barmaid is like a one sided relationship in fast-forward. Drink one is like date one - you learn each other's names, you find out his drink preference (and you can tell a lot from what someone drinks - I would never date a VB drinker) and you start to assess the situation. 

 

  I have always admired the great Sherlock Holmes, why am I mentioning this when I'm talking about being a barmaid? One of the amazing traits of the detective was his ability to ascertain certain particulars about a person by the evidence presented. For example chalk dust on a right shirtsleeve would indicate a right handed teacher2 and I used his techniques on my customers. Wedding ring? Smoker? Tradesman or Yuppie? Outdoors type? Pencil pusher? By the time a customer was onto his second drink I had made a pretty good assessment of who they were and what they wanted from a barmaid; and then I became that barmaid. Essentially I was a whore with out sex, promising the world and delivering only drinks and goddamn I was good at it. So as I morphed into their perfect woman they continued to drink, by the third or fourth drink they were in lust and of course I would flirt a little so they thought they had the remotest chance with what they considered to be 'the one'. By the eighth drink they were in love - they would promise me the world, offers to live with them and be a kept woman were the most frequent. 

  'But I like working in the Bar' I would laugh, so then we banter and agree I could do a couple of shifts a week just to keep my hand in. The marriage offers usually occurred after I revealed that my parents own a pub. That bit wasn't a lie, that was the god's honest truth and if I've played my cards right, telling a patron that was like dropping a bombshell. His eyes would go wide, his jaw would drop open and his dick would instantly get hard. You could watch the thought process - by that time of the night it wasn't exactly complicated.

  Oh my god I've found the perfect woman! She hunts, fishes, has great tits, owns a ute and for fucks sake her Dad owns a Fuckin' PUB!' It was at that point they usually got down off their bar stool and on to one knee and proposed. I always said yes; If you said no the final tip would never be as good and that means the last five hours of pretending to be something I'm not would be for nothing. 

 

  The last-drink tip was always the mother load. You see as a general rule blokes don't like change, they have nowhere to put it. It won't fit in their wallet and if they put it in their pocket it digs in their legs, so they say anyway. Personally I think its because they worry the change bulge will dwarf their man- bulge, so anything bigger than a 5 cent piece is a threat. They will usually not keep anything that isn't gold and the gold is generally just kept for the juke box or the pool table. What do they do with the rest? Well they give it the barmaid of course, that smiling angel who has your round ready before you are even at the bar. That was another great trick, I have a pretty good memory so within a couple of rounds I can remember on sight what people are drinking, if I'm really paying attention I can have a packed bar down pat within an hour. Everyone drinks at a different pace but you watch their glasses - a solo drinker you wait till there is a mouthful left, before you get his next one. A group of drinkers are a little different, there is usually the fast drinker - he knocks them back quick smart and for the first few rounds he may even come up for a 'tweenie'.3On the other end of the spectrum there is the slow poke of the group, usually the bloke in a secure relationship4, he's been allowed to come to the pub for say 5 drinks, he's going to make those five last as long as he can. He doesn't care that he wont get drunk, he just wants to post pone the inevitable interrogation and resultant cold shoulder he is going to get despite the fact that she gave him permission and said that it was a good idea to go out with the boys as 'they needed to maintain friendships in order to enrich their own relationship'. Women like that hate barmaids like me. In between Mr Gun-ho and Mr Under the thumb are the Seasoned Drinkers, the boys who set a good pace and are in for the long haul, when they down the last of their beers, it's time to get the round ready. 

 

  Remembering what a customer drinks makes them feel special and makes you stand out as a barmaid. It's the seasoned drinkers you have to impress anyway as they will be one to give you the final tip - Mr Gun ho will be on his arse by last drinks and Mr Under the thumb will be long gone, defending himself against a full inquisition at home. But if you have seduced the Seasoneds properly they will leave any left over drinking-money for the darling who remembered their drinks and let the bottle slip when pouring the nips. You never actually did, but you tell them you did and let the placebo effect do the rest. A group of five tradies would usually yield fifty bucks for the night and I could successfully woo five groups a night, add in the solitary drinkers - usually twenty bucks each, a single night could quickly become very profitable, and of course it was all tax free. 

  Surprisingly the best tip-to-effort ratio came from the depressed/angry blokes who you left alone. The last thing they wanted was a sparkling happy barmaid. Every now and then in a lull you'd wander over to them, letting them see you drop the smile and make some derisive comment about which ever demographic seemed to piss them off the most. They got off on the fact that their twisted views were being validated and because they got to see the 'real you', when really they were just being hustled like the guy next to them. To be a good barmaid you basically need a PHD in psychology. 

 

  I had been working at my Family's pub for a few years before I decided to go traveling. When I started out, I theoretically had enough money for twelve months without working, but then you pull in to a town with a nice little pub, get chatting to the locals and the next thing you know tomorrows fuel money was buying a round of baby Guinness'5 because no one in that two horse town had even heard of one. And of course I insisted that they had to try one as it pissed all over a cock sucking cowboy. By about 2am I would have the Publican in stitches with slightly exaggerated tales of life up north and he would be declaring a lock in. About 5am would see me crawl into bed6. I would always be up by nine, preferably earlier, not showing any signs of a hangover. I did actually feel like throwing myself under a bus, but I could never let the locals see me sick, it was the cherry on top of an already burgeoning legend. You put in a solid 12 hour drinking session, started a party that drank the pub out of tequila, sambucca and baileys and instigated an impromptu wet t-shirt competition and that alone makes the locals wonder if you are a Maenad from the depths of Hades7. I'm pretty sure the majority of ringers and rouseabouts in these towns weren't exactly up with their Greek mythology but they knew a true blue Sheila when they saw one. So the town thinks you're a party on legs and then you turn up first thing in the morning apparently sans hangover, mock the other party goers for being wimps, and devour a big breakfast8 and you are just about elevated to the legendary status enjoyed by the likes 'of that bloke who drank a full keg of beer in a night, then flew himself back to his station in the chopper he'd landed out the back'. They didn't need to know that once I'd said my goodbyes and hit the frog and toad9 I would pull up about 50km down the highway, suck down 2 litres of water and pop a couple of panadol. If it was a really big night I would recline my seat and have a kip until the sun got too hot and the inside of the car reeked like a brewers ashtray from the sins being excreted from my pores. Then I would drive on and find the next unsuspecting town. 

 

  Sometimes I would just pull up at a nice camping spot and spend a couple of days relaxing and detoxing, engrossed in a book or occasionally dropping a line in the water. I really enjoyed these quite times just pottering around, not having to present a front to anyone and just being me. Sometimes I would sit in the shade with a beer and day dream about meeting the Mr Right who would come in and sweep me off my feet and take me away to a nice quiet life with kids and a dog and maybe even a gold fish or two. Spurred by my thoughts of a knight in shining armour, I would head off to the next town just in case he was there. Where else would a knight park his ute but the local tavern? So the whole sordid cycle would start again. In six months I had meandered my way through South Australia, Victoria and high tailed through New South Wales. I don't have anything against New South Welshmen but I really wanted to get to the hinterland in southeast Queensland for a music festival and my funds were seriously starting to dwindle. I had been to the Muster before but that was with my family and I still had a blast so I had to do it without the restraints of parentage. It certainly didn't disappoint. After a week of fantastic music, awesome people and flying down a muddy hill on the lid of an esky, I was shattered and just about out of money.

 

    Within about two hours of getting in the gates I met a group from much further north who had been there on and off for a month. Although the festival is held in a State Park, there is over 100 000 people through the gates every year and camping sites near the entrance were at a premium. So these guys and girls travel down about 6 months before to stake claim to their campsite. They mark out their site with a series of labeled tarps early on and then take it in turns to bring down supplies and man the site in the month prior.

 

  Here I was traveling around in my ute with my swag and a little gas stove, I even had a three man tent for when the weather was bad, I thought I was set. As I was only a one woman show and didn't need a whole lot of space to set up, I was able to squeeze in pretty close to the gate. This put me right next to the 'Mad Hatters' - that was what the 2 metre long wooden sign declared on entrance to their campsite. How can you have an entrance to a campsite? Well they had built a rough wooden post fence to border their site. They told me later that it wasn't to keep anyone out but to show anyone who wanted to party where to come in. I observed that it also served to keep the lost souls, too inebriated to find their own swags, from wandering through the area and standing on slumbering bodies. I was never actually sure how many people made up the group of Mad Hatters as there were always friends popping in and people popping out to drink with other happy campers. The one thing that remained constant however was the fire in the centre of the canvas town. It didn't matter if you lived there or if you were just dropping in for a beer, you made sure the fire didn't go out. It was the heart beat of site, you kept warm by it, you cooked on it and you dried out your muddy clothes that you just wore in the shower in an attempt to clean, by it. It was a magnificent fire, set into a custom made drum. Well actually it was four 44 gallon drums joined together to form a clover shape with cut outs on the side in the shapes of music notes and little akubra hats. I was told a new one was made every year by a bloke named Joshua, a man that could've only borrowed a shirt off Paul Bunyan and hardly spoke a word. He would nod occasionally though, only if he really agreed with you about something, or just grunt and go split some more logs if you pissed him off about something. His sole contribution to the campsite every year was the fire. He made the drum and would bring the wood down in his imported Chevy Silverado, which on its own looks like a massive monster of a vehicle but with Josh in the front seat, it looked like a clown car.

  I've heard women say they love the strong silent type, and I never really understood that until I met Josh. There was something primal and mysterious about him that I found incredibly intriguing, and being honest, quite attractive. It wasn't that sudden kind of attraction that knocks the wind out of you, it was much more stealthy like a cat stalking its Friskies.

  The first night there I had wiped myself out, eager to make the most of the party and inevitably putting myself out of action for the next day. So while the rest of the crew was off enjoying the music and ambiance, I stayed by the fire and had a few quiet beers and listened in the distance, occasionally contemplating my life style. Just as I was toying with the idea of having a nap, Josh came ambling back into the campsite. He pulled up a chair and cracked a beer, not once looking at me, just staring straight at the fire. I don't consider myself much of a looker, probably a 5-6 maybe a 7 with makeup, so I don't clamber for a males attention. But the fact he wouldn't look at me was infuriating, I wanted to stand up and flash my tits just to get him to acknowledge my presence. After the silence had become too uncomfortable, I asked him where he worked. He actually seemed shocked that I had spoken to him, as he adjusted himself in his chair and started poking the fire with a stick. He mumbled something under his breath and then got up to get another beer. Despite the fact that mine was nearly full, I called out to him 'I'll have one while you're there'. While he had his back turned and quickly necked the stubby, ignoring the churning in my stomach. Its one thing to force someones hand, its another thing to get caught out. Well I found out he wasn't deaf at least, when he brought me a beer. As he handed it to me, he caught my eye and we both froze. Me holding the bottom of the bottle, him gripping the neck both of us looking at each other, not saying a word, not staring, just looking at each other, paused in a moment while 200m away 100,000 people partied, completely oblivious to the tableau playing out at the Mad Hatters camp. There wasn't fireworks in my heart or anything clichéd like that, but I did get a warmness in my belly that slowly spread south, until I was afraid to stand up lest I stuck to the chair10. I tugged harder on the stubby and muttered some words of thanks. He went back to his chair and I sighed with relief. For a moment I thought... well I don't know what I thought, in fact I don't think I was really thinking. I was just very glad the moment was over. It seemed to have had some effect on Josh as well as he proceeded to answer my question in a very concise manner, with near on perfect diction. 

  "I'm a geologist at a mine site near Claremont."

  Now I wasn't surprised to hear he worked in the mines, in fact I would have guessed a driller or maybe a truck driver, but geologist? Not in a million years, I quietly told myself off for judging books by their covers and then realized that I really liked the fact that he didn't fit a stereotype. As the afternoon wore on and my hang over wore off, the conversation flowed think and fast as did the beers. I realized the sun was setting, and wondered out loud if the others would be coming back for dinner. 

  Josh informed me that they had planned to grab something from the food vendors that night as there just wasn't a suitable gap in the performers to fit in a dinner break. I suddenly realized that he had been sitting with me for hours and asked him why he had come back to the camp. Very quickly resorting back to his 'strong silent' type he muttered something that I had no hope in deciphering. I so eloquently replied with a 

 

  "Huh?"

 

    and he turned, looked at me raising his eyebrows and said very clearly

    "I came back looking for you" 

 

  It was then my turn to play the mute, I just had nothing to say so I said nothing. Not that I needed to though, I have a very impressive blush and I could feel it creeping up my neck as I stared resolutely at the fire. Eventually I came out with

 

    "Oh well I'm glad you did."

 

    I'm sure if given a couple of hours to think about it, I probably could've come up with something better, but I think he appreciated the simplicity. I think he felt the slightly awkward buzz in the air as he suggested we head into the festival and see if we could catch up with the other guys. I figured it was probably for the best because I really didn't know where to take the conversation at that point. He put his hand out to help me up, but me being the stubborn thing I am politely refused it.

 

  I stood up and then very nearly fell down, I hadn't realized how much I had had to drink, as earlier on Josh had dragged one of the eskys between our chairs and so neither of us had stood up in a while.

  I didn't lose my balance completely because he managed to get an arm around me in time but the chair didn't fare so well and went over backwards behind me as I stumbled. I remained upright albeit now in the arms of a giant. I didn't appreciate how big he truly was until I was right next to him, at 169 cm I'm no Amazon but I'm no midget either11 and my face was only level with his arm pit. Okay I could've picked a nicer body part to align with but I was desperately trying not to think of anything remotely erogenous, like nipples or chest. The heat that I had felt before was nothing to fire that was building in my belly now I could feel him. There was a distinct throbbing that was both incredibly enjoyable and very uncomfortable. It was like having a booger just inside your nostril while you are stuck in a crowd, you really want to get it out before it shoots onto some kids ice cream but there is no socially acceptable method to do so. Then he did something that both shocked and exhilarated me. He gently grabbed a hand full of my hair and tugged my head back so I had no choice but to look at him. Fear and excitement filled me up and as he looked at me questioningly to see whether his next move would be welcome, like the idiot I am, I twisted out of his grip and righted the chair. 

 

  I really wanted to kiss him and now that I knew he wanted it too, I wanted it to be on my terms. In hindsight, it would've been nice to let go and play by somebody else's rules, but that's just not how I roll. I could see he was a little disappointed as he fished two more beers out for the walk down, and I felt a little guilty that I had stolen his thunder. As we walked out of the gate I slipped my hand into his and got a little thrill when he squeezed it. I looked up at him and smiled as he smiled back. I wondered what this week would bring. 

 

  Just before you enter the event gates there is a big block of toilets that are usually the best to go to as it is quite a hike from anywhere and so less people tend to use them. That afternoon's session had taken its toll on my bladder, I passed my beer to Joshua to hold as I dashed off to the ladies. As I walked out, I couldn't see where he was and he wasn't standing where I left him. Calling his name as I searched, kicking myself for that little stunt I pulled back at camp, thinking he had got the shits with me and gone off alone. I was rounding the back of the building when he jumped out at me like a little kid pulling a prank, shouting "Boo!". It was lucky I had just been to the toilet because he scared the crap out of me. Before I had time to recover he had me pushed up against the wall and crushed his lips into mine. It wasn't an overly romantic kiss, it was dirty kiss full of need and I realized I wasn't the only one who had a fire building inside of me. So like two teenagers we made out behind the toilets, groping at each other and sucking face like the world was going to end. Turns out we drew quite a crowd but it wasn't until some smart arse gave a cat call as Josh went for the boobs, that we realized. The trance was broken but we were both courteous enough performers to at least give a bow before we dashed off for the event hand in hand. We didn't find the others for quite some time but we enjoyed ourselves none the less, watching some awesome performances and singing along with all the other drunk bastards. The other Mad Hatters actually found us, I guess considering that Joshua is a landmark unto himself it wasn't all that surprising. They were however a little surprised to find me in front of him, wrapped up in his arms. After my initial embarrassment at their congratulations like we had just announced our engagement12, it was all good and everyone had a great night. After the last act, we all headed back to camp, Josh and I wrapped up in our little love bubble, the rest in a booze bubble. The fire had dwindled down to coals so Joshua set about building it back up while the rest of us grabbed a drink and started singing 'Khe Sahn' which led into 'Copperhead Road'. Everyone rushed through the verses to get to the foot stomping part and after that it petered away. 

 

  Unbeknownst to me while this fun and frivolity had been going on, Josh had moved his swag, way down to the back corner. He came up behind me and whispered this fact into my ear, followed by the little tidbit that he had a custom made king size swag that had plenty of space for moi. With that he took the beer out of my hand and finished it. After having his lips so close to my ear and the feel of his breath as he whispered, I needed no encouragement to head to bed. I slipped out past him, by this point the crew had launched into 'Fire in the Bar' so no one noticed my departure. I went to the bathroom to freshen up a little, just because we are in the bush, doesn't mean a girl can't take a little pride in herself. By the time I got changed into my pyjamas13 and did my girly things, Josh was already in the swag. I felt a little presumptuous just sidling in there with him but he flicked back the covers and held his arms out to me and there was nowhere else I wanted to be. Now I know you are probably waiting for some hot steamy sex scene given our previous performance at the toilets but I'm sorry to disappoint - there was none. I snuggled against his chest and he held me tight in his arms as we spoke about random things and watched for shooting stars. Occasionally we would break the conversation and kiss, but it didn't go any further than that. To this day I still think about that night and how momentous it was in my life. Despite my numerous trysts with men, this was sweeter than anything else I had experienced. And I realized later that in my desire to experience everything, I had missed some of the most beautiful things life had to offer.14

 

  Chapter 2

  It was the last set on the Main Stage for the entire festival and I was on Josh's shoulders. There were about 50 other chicks doing the same thing but I stood the tallest, I was pretty chuffed about that. Almost like it was a personal achievement hooking up with what was quite possibly the tallest man at the festival. It was a bittersweet moment because I knew that tomorrow morning we would all pack up and go our separate ways. I didn't even know where I was going, for the last six months I had travelled with the end goal of the Gympie Music Muster and now that was about to end and I had no idea what to do. I also didn't want to leave Josh, although we had only known each other a little over a week, we had connected in a way I hadn't with anyone else. We had played chess15, compared boarding school stories and made out more than a pair of love sick teenagers. The one thing we hadn't done was make love. This was the first relationship, if you could call it that, that hadn't started from a drunken fling and was now vying for best relationship ever. The fact that this short encounter had such an impact on me made me realize how truly messed up my life was and I vowed to change it from this point on. How? I had no idea, but it's the thought that counts right?

 

  We all trudged back up the hill to our16 campsite with the thousands of other people like cattle being herded into the yards. The rest of the crew were ready to send out the festival with a final hoo-rar at the camp and I didn't doubt there would be a few that would pull an all nighter, but I just wasn't in the partying mood. Josh was being quiet as well and I was reminded of how he was when I first arrived. The memory of his hulking figure not uttering a word brought a smile to my face, and then I remembered his first words around the camp fire and that brought a flush to my cheeks. I let go of his hands and slid my arm around his waist, squeezing him tight and inhaling his musky scent17.

 

  When we got back to camp, I wasn't in the mood for drinking, I just wanted to crawl into bed and be enveloped by Josh's arms and stay like that forever. I guess he wanted something like that too, because he waved his beer in front of my eyes like a dodgy hypnotist and whispered into my ear

 

  "you are getting sleeeeepy, very sleeeeepy and now you are going to go to bed with the first man that kisses you."

 

  He brushed his lips against my ear and gently kissed me in the sweet spot on my neck that sends shivers down my spine and makes me want to be a very, very naughty girl.

 

  If I had needed any encouragement to get to bed, that would have done it but as it was, I was biting at the bit to snuggle down with him and make the most of our time together so I practically ran to the swag, dragging him with me.

 

  This time I didn't bother getting changed, I just jumped in the swag and waited for Josh to strip down to his boxers and climb in after me. Once he was in, I zipped up my side of the swag. This received a questioning look from him as he knew I hated being restrained by bedding, whether by a zipped swag or tucked in sheets18. The way he cocked his head at me and raised his eyebrow reminded me of a puppy dog and I got a serious case of the giggles. But his look of confusion became one of excitement as he realized what I was doing when I started wiggling my jeans off. I had wanted our last night to be special so I had put on my red lacy French knickers19 Once I had struggled out of my jeans and threw them outside the swag, I swiftly removed my singlet. I know I have mentioned before, but I have impressive breasts, they are my pride and joy and god damn, when I saw the look on Josh's face as he watched them pop out of my singlet, I could have kissed them.20

 

  Before he had a chance to recover from his titty-induced stupor, I straddled him and oh so gently kissed him, grinding my pelvis into his. I discovered that he was more than ready for my advances when I felt a very welcome pulse into my pelvis. Although my body was screaming to touch him, my mind reminded me that this was our last night together and the melancholy that engulfed me over rode my erotic impulses and I rolled to the side and lay on his arm facing the distant campfire. As soon as I did, he encased me with his body and I felt his erection in my lower back. Any other time and I would have been excited at the thought, but now it just made me mad. He wanted what every other guy before him did but he was worse, he didn't just want my pussy he wanted to take my heart as well.

 

    'Well fuck him' I thought as I lay glowering in the dark, I wasn't going to give him either. To think I'd nearly fallen for his bullshit... and then that damn voice of reason spoke up 

 

  'well you wanted to fuck him too!" 

 

  Fuck reason and fuck the world!

 

    I had gone from a gooey loved up girl to a hard-arsed man-hating bitch in all of about 5 seconds. Talk about bi-polar...

 

  Completely oblivious to my man hatred, Joshua swept the proverbial floor out from under my feet when he said

 

  "Abbie, I think you're a pretty special kinda girl, what about coming up to Mackay and seeing how it goes?"

 

  Well fuck a zombie! A war raged inside me, as one side figured he really wanted to fuck my head in by saying something like that, while my inner romantic argued that maybe he actually felt like I did. I lay there playing a bijillion different scenarios in my head, while I felt his man hood wither. He continued on, shaken by my silence

 

  "I mean I'm not asking you to move in with me or anything yet, its just I haven't felt like this in a long time and I know its scary and I'm scared and I would offer to move with you - but I have a good job, and you said you didn't know where you were going to go next - so I figured why not come to Mackay?"

 

  I remembered the resolution I had made about living a different life and realized how I was going to change my ways. I was going to go with the flow and give this thing a chance. As this dawned on me, my heart did a euphorical back flip in my chest and I rolled into towards him. 

 

  "Well I've got to get a job somewhere, why not?"

 

  There is no way the smile that lit up his face was faked, and I thanked the universe and whatever gods were up there for putting this man in my life. I kissed him with everything I had and then some, I guess I had some direction after all. This new found purpose mixed with the happiness that Josh brought out in me and settled in my chest. For the first time in my life I felt whole and content, like I was where I was supposed to be.

 

  I pulled out of the kiss, and looked him straight in the eye.

 

  "Are you sure? I'm not easy to handle..."

 

  "Well you've managed to keep the swag zipped, so you can't be that big of a nut job"

 

  Oh god, I wanted this man. I wanted him in me, I wanted him to love me, to marry me, to father my children. I could never have told him this, not in a million years but I put it all into my next kiss. I'm guessing he got the message because he grabbed me in one arm and swept my hands up with other and flipped me on to my back. He kept his left arm holding my hands restrained above my head and with his right hand he held my head. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he bit the sweet spot in my neck. I rode the threshold of pain and pleasure, a little scared and very much turned on. Just as I reached breaking point he released my neck and moved south. He tenderly kissed his way down my décolletage until he reached my bra. I had washed this one out in the sink especially this morning but it wouldn't have mattered what I wore. Josh wasn't concerned with the topping, only with the ice cream underneath as he pushed the lace out of the way and dived on my nipple like it was the cherry on top. He gently pulled on it with his lips and held it tight as his tongue darted out and flicked it. The heat from his mouth mixed with the cold outside air almost made me come undone. Oh god! I just wanted him to multiply and take me right there. I wanted his mouth on both of my breasts and my clit all at the same time and then I wanted him inside me so badly that I could feel my pussy clenching with desire. I couldn't help myself, as hard as it was, I wiggled my nipple out of the grasp of his mouth and moved down. He had been going for the slow, stealthy attack. Whilst I appreciated this approach, that wasn't my style, I was always like a bull at a gate. Before he had a chance to comprehend what was going on, I had his boxers over his hips and his cock in my mouth, well what would fit at least. Over the last week or so, I had been given small glimpses of what was in store. Each time I had felt him, or even one occasion seen it through his boxers, it had scared me. I mean he was a monstrous man and his man hood was just as intimidating. So I took what I could in my mouth and I let my hands handle the rest. I wanted to him to know how much he meant to me - so I showed him the best way I could. I sucked his cock like there was no tomorrow, I worked my way up and down, as much as I was able and concentrated on keeping a constant suction. I couldn't tell him how I felt, so I expressed my self the best I could, by giving him the best blow job he had ever had. I had his balls in my hand, desperately trying to think of ways I could make this better, when he grabbed around my torso and tore me upwards. 

 

  "Didn't you like it?" I asked coyly, trying to surreptitiously wipe my mouth. 

 

  "Oh it was awesome! But that is not what I want..."

 

  "Well... what do you want?"

 

  As I asked this, I pushed my entire body weight against him to get him to roll over. If he had of wanted to remain where he was he could've easily denied my request. Me pushing on him would've been like a mosquito pushing on an elephant. I guess he did want me on top, because not only did he obligingly roll over but squiggled into the middle of the swag. I still had my knickers on, and I was made painfully aware of this when he put his hands on my arse cheeks and pulled me down on to him. Josh must have liked the feel of the lace though as he kept moving my hips to rub against him. He released his hold of me and flicked aside the flimsy bit of lace between my legs, and circled his thumb around clit. He murmured his pleasure when he discovered how wet I was, he actually seemed a little surprised, but not as surprised as I was when he pushed two fingers inside of me. He maintained the little movements on my nub as his fingers thrust into me. I couldn't handle it any longer, I pushed backwards in an attempt to get away from his hand and to also find my jeans. There was something in the pocket that I desperately needed, I found what I was looking for and briefly wondered if it would fit. I have had guys try and use that excuse on me but with Josh it was a legitimate concern so I opted for the more traditional hand application as opposed to my usual mouth roll. I was going to need my dexterity for this one, but as I placed it on the head of his dick, Josh took over and deftly rolled it down. I didn't bother taking off my panties, I just moved into position and gently lowered myself on to him. Josh had his hands on either side of my hips, and I knew he wanted to push me down on to him as hard as he could but he restrained, like the gentleman he is. Once he was fully inside me, I leant forward to nibble on his ear and get used to feel of him in me. This position also allowed me rub myself against him while he could still thrust into me. He whispered that he wasn't going to last very long, normally I would be very disappointed to hear this but it sent a thrill through me knowing that I had turned him on as much as he had me. I figured if he was going to go, it may as well be enjoyable and guilt free. 

 

  "don't hold back"

 

  I looked him straight in the eye, gave him my best 'come fuck me' look and rode him like a jockey on a Melbourne cup winner. I kept my hands on his chest, and never broke eye contact. He grabbed my hips again and started to push me down on to him, gently at first and then at a frantic pace. The rawness of it all was exhilarating and I could feel my own orgasm building. I never have much warning between "I'm going to come" and "Oh God, I'm coming" So when I started moaning, and grinding into him faster, he responded by thrusting into me harder, which just sent me over the edge. Just as I felt the first waves wrack my body he grunted and pulled me onto him one final time. Keeping me there and just grinding me onto him, this extra pressure on my clit made my body spasm again and I heard him chuckle.

 

  Not wanting to move I nuzzled into his neck and smiled myself. 

 

  "What" I asked.

 

  "Nothing, that just felt good"

 

  "What? This?" And clenched my muscles to grip him again, still inside of me.

 

  He laughed properly this time and grabbed me. "Yes, that. Stop it or you'll have to get off"

 

  With that I gave one little pulse and rolled off him and into his arms. I felt him fumble behind me as he removed the evidence of our encounter and then embrace me in his arms. It felt a little strange having him completely naked and me just in my bra, but I loved the feel of his skin against mine so I reached behind me and undid the clasp. 

 

  "Don't you think it's a bit late for that?"

 

  I grabbed his hands and placed them over my breasts. "They felt left out, I figured you could make it up to them"

 

  "Oh I intend to, don't worry about that"

 

  And for the first time in ages, I didn't worry about anything and I'm sure that when I finally fell asleep it was with a smile on my lips

 

  Chapter 3

  The next morning we were up21 before everyone else, that was a combination of our buoyant attitude and the fact that we didn't stay up drinking like everyone else. I felt like I had swallowed a helium balloon, I kept grabbing on to things to make sure I didn't float away. It got worse as the morning wore on as Josh and I flitted around the campsite, working in sync without speaking, just occasionally grinning like idiots at each other.22 I cooked up bacon and egg sandwiches for the hungover bodies strewn across the ground while Josh packed up our camping gear and occaisionaly checked on the BBQ making sure I didn't need anything. I was surprised to find I wasn't angry that he was packing my things with his and vice versa, it actually put a smile on my face. Last night I had made a vow to change my life and all of a sudden, my life has done a complete back flip. If I had known all it would take was a simple oath to turn my life from a vacuous party to an enriched partnership I would have done it years ago. If I had known what was to come well I probably stuck with the emptiness.

           1          pronounced Tar-jay thank you very much

             2          remember these books were written well before white boards, keep          with it people!

             3          Tweenie - Short for Between, it's the drink you get yourself          in-between rounds if your mates are all pussies and drink too slow.           Usually someone drinking 'tweenies' will be the first to get          kicked out. A few times in my career I have seen blokes drink like          this and still be the last man standing, downing shots of tequila          with me after my shift. Those blokes have both my respect and my          vote for Prime Minister.

             4          Also known as Pussy whipped

             5          ¾ Kahlua and ¼ Baileys, layered in a shot          glass. Quite delicious!

             6          With or without the Barman, dependant on how cute he was and how          drunk I was.           

             7          Maenaed - a wild female follower of Dionysus, the greek god of          Wine, Ritual Madness and ecstasy. If you're going to be a God,          that's the one I'd want to be.

             8          Also known as a heart attack on a plate

             9          rhyming slang for road, but you knew that right?

             10          I always get very horny when I'm hung over. Not          my fault!

             11          Which is a good thing, I learnt later that Joshua          had an immobilising fear of midgets and dwarfs. They were probably          just as scared of him, more so the fact of being squished.

             12          I found out later that Josh had had his heart          broken by some floozy that he had actually          been engaged to and I was his first semi-sober encounter since.

             13          Boxer shorts and a Daly Waters Pub singlet

             14          Could possibly explain why I'm bitter and          twisted!

             15          The 'Mad Hatters' didn't just bring the          kitchen sink, they brought the whole kitchen and half of the lounge          room including two couches, so I was not surprised when one of them          produced a chess set.

             16          I had spent every night, bar the first in Josh's          swag so I was considered an honorary member of the Mad Hatters

             17          Mostly beer and BO, but I smelt just as bad           

             18          It was one of many of my neurosis           

             19          I can't stand g-strings - I have no interest          in flossing my arsehole

             20          I can actually lick my own nipples, but I end up          with a double chin so it's nowhere near as sexy as it sounds

             21          Okay Josh had been 'up' twice after we first          fell asleep, but this time we actually got out of bed afterwards. I          swear the man is a Duracell bunny!

             22          If I had been an innocent bystander I'm sure I          would have thrown up at the gushiness of it all.