CHAPTER 1
When Ash's (Ashley) partner of three years had chased after his brother, destroying Carl's marriage, Ash he thought good riddance and god what a predatory bitch. He reminded himself she'd been on the loose when he scored with her that first memorable night and therefore he wasn't guilty of wooing her off some other luckless dude.
But he was shocked to find how their so-called friends virtually dumped him when word got around that Sharon had left him and his pals told him he was still fine as a buddy but it was 'the wife who preferred not to have him around any longer.
Ash asked why was he on the outer with their wives and was told that there must be something wrong with him, according to their wives and possibly he'd beaten up Sharon, or refused her request to get married or, and quote, 'something serious like that'.
Of course Ash said that was all bullshit and his pals said they'd tell their wives but no invitations to resume visitations arrived. Even Mrs Hope at the store where he got his milk, bread and newspaper each morning had asked him aggressively what had he done with Sharon.
Ash was now thoroughly sick of her name. She'd broken up their relationship and wrecked his relationship with his brother. To hell with Sharon!
Three days later he left his hometown of Auckland, New Zealand, on a flight to Australia. When going in to the travel agency to book for a two-week vacation he'd complained thought the price was too high and was told that was because he wanted to leave immediately instead of booking well in advance and taking advantage of 'specials'. However the consultant Mrs Glass arranged private accommodation to him at a rate well below what hotels and motels charged.
Ash arrived in Sydney International Airport knowing he was to look for a sign that said 'Dan and Rene McQuirt'.
He pushed his trolley looking for such a sign and only saw one vaguely familiar and went back along the line and read it properly, 'Ashley Watson.'
He said he was Ashley Watson and the thin, redheaded parrot-faced woman wearing green and yellow said oh hi, she was Rene McQuirt.
"We were expecting a female."
Ash looked around for the other components of 'we' but no one was with her.
"I'm afraid I can't change my sex at such short notice."
"Oooh that's all right then," she said. "The others couldn't come to greet you because there's a beach carnival on at our beach, an annual event."
"Oh," said Ash, aware his value was less than a beach carnival.
"What do you do?" he asked Rene as they walked to her vehicle.
"I'm a retired cabaret singer-dancer."
Ash eyed her thin body.
"Oh I see you are on to me. I had my silicone boob enhancements removed."
"Oh," said Ash, thinking this rather odd Australian woman was beginning to appeal to him.
"What do you do Nash?"
"Actually it's Ash."
"Oh bugger. Shall we try again? What do you do Ash?"
"As little a possible."
"Oooh are you Australia?" she said that they laughed.
"Actually I resigned my job," said the 34-year-old. "My girlfriend dumped me for my brother and all my friends faded away because I was no longer flavor of the month with their womenfolk."
"Well that was bound to happen. Did you beat your girlfriend or make her pay half of the restaurant bill or reject her proposal of marriage?"
"Er nothing like that."
"Oh I pleased to hear that. I have two daughters living at home and wouldn't be comfortable having you living with us if you were a woman-basher."
"But I like women."
"Good for you."
"Rene your application to host overseas visitors stated that you and your husband were very affluent suburban folk with the youngsters long flown the nest."
"Well that what's attracts patronage. If we said two adult kids live at home then no foreigners would come near us because of the fear of family fights and bathrooms either being occupied or left in a mess."
"Oh, very perceptive Rene."
"Well I do have more between my ears than between my shoulders."
Ash didn't have to puzzle over than one.
They boarded a blue Holden V8. Rene started the engine of the veteran vehicle and Ash groaned.
"What is it, dysentery?"
"No Rene. I'm an automotive engineer. This engine of this vehicle is so far out of tune it's a wonder it can progress forward."
"Watch your mouth buster. My Dan is our vehicle maintenance man, shortened to Dan the Man and probably you are familiar with that being American."
"I'm a New Zealander."
"Oh sorry, is there really a difference?"
Yes, thought Ash. Wacky Rene was appealing beyond belief. She was one of those colorful and fearless women who believe everything they said was true.
"Stop the engine Rene."
She obeyed.
"Do you have any tools on this heap, er this vehicle?"
"If you mean in the boot yes, Dan keeps a tin box of them there."
Ash tinkered and then returned to the tools and climbed back in the vehicle, saying he'd need the proper equipment to really tune the vehicle but had improved performance.
"Oh yeah, likely story. Males will never admit they failed a mission," said Rene, accelerating forward to turn into the access feeder lane but had to brake heavily to avoid ramming a $A150,000 Mercedes sedan parked opposite on the far side of the road.
"Struth mate you've given the old girl some toe."
"Rene stop it. I haven't touched you."
"You fool, I'm saying my car now has grunt."
"Oh thanks."
Ash also expected it was no longer blowing out a cloudy pollutant exhaust of an over-rich fuel mix.
"Thar she blows," Rene said fondly, pointed to a house with an orange roof that went down the hill in three distinct levels and stopped just short of a sea wall. The beach was crowded and colorful for the carnival and the more shapely women than almost totally consumed Ash's eyesight. Most were down to a little patch over pussy and showing absolutely no bikini hairline and the bikini tops made a brave effort to cover the nipples. Some tits were really quite enormous and as far as he could seen none were implanted with silicone although he was no authority on breast enhancement.
Rene noticed his focus and said dryly, "That's why Australian women are such great swimmers; they have been bred to gain extra buoyancy over their chests."
He was quite prepared to believe her.
"I'll be living on the sands," he drooled.
But Rene was ahead of him.
"Mate after a couple of days you will have over-dosed on tit and almost bare ass. Suddenly the standout women will be tall, lean women with modest curves who bent it like Mrs Beckham."