Racquel landed in Brisbane. She had a lay-over for several hours and very much wanted to see a new country right away even if Brisbane wasn't a city she would be spending much time in.
She went into an airport bathroom, peeled off he panties and stuffed them in her duffle-bag. She put on the long white boots again and a tiny black mini-skirt, a fresh thong and a super-tight white t-shirt. She did her hair, teasing it to show off the blonde highlights. She then put on her big gold hoop earrings and prepared herself for a lot of looks, catcalls, come-ons and dirty whistles.
She stepped out into the airport lobby to lock up her stuff and men immediately began oogling her, nudging their mates to check out the beautiful brunette. Racquel saw a man receive a sharp elbow to the ribs from a livid girlfriend when she noted his dropped jaw. The shrew gave Racquel a mean scowl. Racquel smiled to herself - business as usual. She then put on a pair of sunglasses and headed outside before she caused an accident.
Racquel stepped out into the sun looking for a place to eat and perhaps a 'pint' and possibly a quick fuck from one of the locals - she had two hours.
At the Taxi stop she saw a bunch of creeps looking her over, licking their chops as they leaned on their cars.
A fat bull-dyke on a chopper waved her over. Racquel explained she needed to find a bar with food. The dyke introduced herself as Trish and told Racquel there was a perfect spot for her on the other side of the airport. In a flash, Trish had Racquel agreeing for the short drive around the block.
Racquel pulled up her skirt as she climbed on. The men, still leering, cheered as they saw her panties. Trish gave them the finger as she roared off past the taxi-stand.
Racquel put her arms around the big bull as the wind rushed through her hair.
Trish asked about her plans down in Sydney and Racquel whispered in her ear she was heading down there to get fucked by rugby players - one of her ultimate fantasies.
Trish was a little shocked how open the American was, but wanted all the dirty details of her plan. They arrived at a dive-bar out in a desert area several minutes later. Racquel got off the bike and continued talking, not really noticing she was entering a seedy biker bar - more specifically a biker-dyke bar...
Trish showed her in. There was music playing, rugby on the TV and variety of lesbians playing darts, shooting pool, drinking and watching the game. Trish took her to a corner booth and ordered up some food. Many of the bulls were checking out Racquel, thinking Trish had hit the jackpot - again. Racquel gave Trish the once-over as she ate: short hair, tattoos, stud earrings, boots, leather vest, beer gut, missing teeth and hairy arms - pretty nasty.
The dyke was called over by some of her friends for the low-down. She returned in a few minutes with some biker chicks and two plain-Jane lesbians in rugby shirts. Racquel finished her meal and looked around for a clock - she needed to catch that flight.
One of the rugby gals whispered to the other: "If this Yank is here to spread her legs in the name of rugby then I say we give it to her."
The other girl laughed menacingly as she watched pretty Racquel try to drink the top of a stiff pint. Outside, Racquel got back on the bike as Trish gave a wink to her biker gals. They all revved up their engines and roared out of the parking lot. Racquel was confused why all the bikers were riding with Trish, who she now noticed were driving away from the airport and deep into the desert. The two rugby dykes were on the back of two of the choppers leering at Racquel's legs.
Racquel was now getting nervous - both about missing the flight and getting gang-banged. Even if she let all these dykes screw her there was no way she was catching that flight.
Damn, this was a big mistake she thought.
