Mick Roper (22) was a guest at India Westland's 21st birthday Sunday luncheon where the females out-numbered the males 3:1.
He wondered why the hell he'd accepted the invitation to attend. Oh yeah, he'd been friends with India for years as they lived on the same street. Her mother had hand-delivered the invite to his mum who's accepted without referral. He fumed that his mum had not consulted him first.
Some of the guys had already drifted off when Mick heard on of the girls criticising India for never wearing a bra.
"Why would I wear a bra when my upper torso is muscular from swimming and gym training, with no sign of sag?"
A debate erupted and Mick realized India in fact concealed a decent pair of knockers.
He stared at them.
India caught him gaping and flipped two fingers at him, resulting in Mick disappearing off home.
It was only 2.30 and his mum asked, "Was the lunch party that boring to send you home so early?"
"Yeah, it was over-run by females."
"Well, it was a young woman's birthday do. Why cram it with rude louts?"
"My leaving the gathering decreased the overall intelligent level of the mob not leaving, probably significantly.'
"You have a gigantic opinion of yourself, Michael Roper," scoffed his mum.
Not so. He was modest, although having graduated dux (top scholar) of senior year of high school-leavers and he was on track to finish his 4-year Marine Biology degree in three years. Well, marine biology and surfing had been two of his hobbies since he was eight years old.
A couple of hours later his mum Thelma yelled at him that India Westland was calling him on the house phone.
India was immediately into it.
"Have you just noticed that I have boobs?"
"Sort of."
"What the hell does that mean?"
He replied exactly what he said, sort of.
"Come to my birthday dinner tonight for my extended family and later, when everyone has vanished, you may do a bit of booby exploration."
"No thanks."
"But I thought you considered me attractive and a close pal?"
"I do, but dinner will be crowded with family, boring the crap out of me, and you are not my idea of a sex pin-up."
"What is your type?"
"Dunno really, quite range, but not you. You are simply one of my female friends."
India gritted, "I don't accept that."
"Too bad Indy, some things are just like that. Bye, I'm off surfing."
Indy complained to her mum, Nola Westland.
"Mick Roper doesn't want to rumble with me."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he says so."
"Indy, that shouldn't surprise you. He's an acquaintance rather than a boyfriend. What on earth did you say to him?"
"At lunchtime. he was staring at my breasts and I invited him to massage them tonight."
"Indy, that's disgusting and it's a wonder the poor young man didn't run for the hills because he's always regarded you as one of the lads. I would think he doesn't possess a single gram of sexual connection with you in his mind."
"That's no fair."
"That's the way it is, dear, accept it. Besides, with your personality and athletic body, you can practically have almost any guy around your age that you wish to date but darling, please exercise good taste."
"Mum, he didn't run for the hills. He said he was going surfing and cut me off abruptly."
"It's the same thing, darling. Get used to it. You're merely someone he knows by name."
India vowed, "I'll get him to rumble me if it's the last thing I do."