Bike Ride 6

It was one of those noisy nights in the back bar of the Queen's Head Hotel. Full to the brim with students all loudly laughing and being just very exuberant.

Amid the thick throng of young men, a tall leggy, dark haired girl, stood holding court, and enjoying being the centre of attention.

I bought myself a beer and went over to investigate the new face, this new girl that seemed to have every male in the bar lusting after her.

She knew how to work the crowd, and definitely knew all about the art of flirtation. Eventually as the night wore on I got my chance to chat to her, and asked her the stupid question of "Who's talking you home?" to which she surprised me by saying "You, if you like!"

Without a second thought I had made up my mind.

"Right, we're off!" I called to my friends, taking my prized trophy on my arm, and leaving the bar in great haste.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" someone shouted, followed by loud catcalls and whistles.

'She', I don't think I ever had time to ask her name, was every bit the kind of nymphomaniac, that young men dream of. Things like this do not happen in real life, well not to a penniless student. And if they do, you have to grab the moment with both hands, and cling on by your teeth, if necessary.

'My boat had just come in', as the saying goes. 'She' was everywhere at once, and it was 'any port in a storm' that night, in the back of my old car. Buttons popping off in all directions as clothing was simply ripped off our bodies, and discarded in wild abandonment. And with her stiletto heels savagely damaging the soft top of my battered old Morris car, I was in full pursuit of a young man's education into the lustful pleasures of servicing a really wanton woman.

The next lunchtime I strode into the Queen's Head bar, full of the feeling of having accomplished something pretty challenging, and yet thankfully I had still managed to escape almost unscarred. Sore and scratched yes, but no serious war wounds of any consequence. Well, perhaps I did have a slight limp, but I wore that with pride, a campaign medal for services rendered beyond the call of duty.

"A pint of your best Kay!" I said to the big friendly barmaid as she took my order. I was feeling smug to the point of bursting, and dying to tell my friends, about the previous evening's escapade, in every orgasmic detail. Every grunt and gasp, every lunge and linger that happened in that uncomfortable passion wagon of mine.

"I little dickie bird told me that you've been a naughty boy! That you got off with the 'camp bicycle' last night."

"The who?" I asked, paying for my beer.

"That girl you took home. My friend Sylvie, she saw it all. They say she's had half the soldiers up at that army camp, that's why they call her the 'camp bicycle'. Anyone can ride her!"

She laughed in a hideous way, snorting like someone with a nasty sinus infection. "Anyway Luvie, how're you feeling? I must say you don't look too good. It wouldn't surprise me if you didn't catch something nasty from the likes of her!" Kay laughed again, shaking her large breasts in time to her uncontrolled merriment.

"Err, yes! Well, I was feeling fine when I came in here, but now I'm not so sure!" I took my beer and walked over to a table to sit with my friends.

"Unclean! Unclean!" someone muttered moving well away from me, and suggesting that I get a bell to ring as in the days of the plague, to warn unsuspecting people of the lurking disease within my putrid person.

"Great friends you lot are!" I shouted. " Bastards all of you! I mean, you could have warned me about the damned woman, for hells sake! What are friends for?"

"Dose it hurt yet? Tom Ruddock asked, keeping me at a safe distance, with the table well between us. "Any sign of puss ... any nasty discharge starting to ooze out?"

They all sniggered. They were all enjoying this.

"You bloody bastards!" I shouted again at them, rushing out of the bar.

"Wait John, wait a minute, I'll help you." Ruddock called, as he followed me out into the town's market place.

"You could try some powerful disinfectant." He suggested. "It often works if you catch it in time. Believe me, I know about these things. Soak it in a jar using a strong solution for a few days, and it soon sorts it out." Ruddock was trying to be reassuring, and at the same time forcefully steered me towards a chemist shop.

"Won't that sting?" I wondered, wincing at the very thought.

"To start with, but you'll soon get use to it"

He lied. It hurt like hell all the time, and I felt worse by the day. I sat for hours with my poor old pecker dangling in a glass jar of strong white semi diluted antiseptic solution. I smelt of the stuff everywhere I went. People looked at me strangely. Sniffing the air, wondering what on earth I had, that needed so much disinfectant to affect a cure. What was it that I was suffering from? I now felt very unclean. Maybe I did need a bell to ring after all?

I even imagined that I had started with some kind of a fever, and my eyesight was going wonky too. I was definitely very ill.

Tom Ruddock proved to be no help at all. All he did was to keep telling me all the symptoms of syphilis, and other venereal diseases, and how one died a dreadful death after years of pain and misery. I couldn't have ever imagined a more nightmarish way to fall of this mortal coil. He had books with photos, the very sight of which turned my already upset stomach upside down.

In the end, and after several terrible days, demented out of my mind with grief and worry, he suggested I go to the hospital. He would take me. He would not desert me, in my hour of need. He would be by my side. After all, he was, my best friend at college.

"He's got a dose of the clap!" Ruddock proclaimed in a loud voice when asked what the trouble was at the hospital reception desk.

" He's been with a very dirty woman, and now he's riddled with the pox! I did try to warn him, but you know how it happens, they just don't listen do they?"

I almost died of shame as the whole of the hospital waiting room turned in my direction, and looked at me with utter disgust. Mothers grabbed their children and everyone hoped I'd give them all a wide berth.

"Sit down over there, and a doctor will be with you shortly." The nurse told us, with that look of 'seen it all before' on her world-weary face.

I sat down but Ruddock moved towards the door.

"I'll be off now." He called over to me.

"You're not leaving me here all alone are you Tom?"

"Sure am John ... and I'd recommend you high tail it out of here too, that's if you don't want some ruddy great needle stuck up you. Get the hell out of there before they find out there's nothing wrong with you!"

I stood up and shouted, "What do you mean, nothing wrong?"

"I mean ... it was all a joke!"

His words faded away as he ran for his life, with me after him, promising to kill him twice over.

He tore off in his car amid a cloud of burning rubber, and escaped to the safety of the Queen's Head Hotel. Where, no doubt he shared with my so-called friends, the successful conclusion to their nasty little joke.