The Fair Comes to town
It was during the August Bank Holiday of 1985 that my first marriage came to a crossroads that it never recovered from.
I was twenty-three and had been married for just over two years. I worked in a local bed-making factory, and my husband was on the North Sea oil rigs. He spent two weeks away and, in theory, a week at home.
We had been "love's young dreams" before marriage and probably for the first six months after. But in the months that followed, he would finish work on a Friday afternoon and take a helicopter to Aberdeen. Instead of rushing home to my heaving bosom, he started staying the weekend in The Granite City. "winding down," then arrived home on Monday, and then spent the week drinking until he couldn't stand up, which wasn't a great combination with his new-found pastime, the betting shop.
I, on the other hand, worked forty-plus hours a week at a brain-numbing job. I kept the house, neat and tidy and always had a hot meal waiting for him at the time he had promised to be home by, but he never arrived. Plus, after initially pining for a baby, I had more recently gone back on the pill as our sex life had dwindled to the very occasional drunken "spread your legs," followed by "huh, huh, huh," and "mmmmmm," then him rolling off and immediately falling asleep.
Despite the fact that several of my horny young male colleagues were eager to get their hands inside my knickers,
By that August weekend, I had been completely celibate for nearly three months. My husband had returned up north on Sunday afternoon. I was feeling very lonely, and I was even starting to think about starting divorce proceedings. I bumped into a younger ex-neighbor, who I hadn't seen for years, on the bus home from work on Thursday night.
Without going into intimate details about my ailing marriage, she told me that I needed a "night out on the lash." That wasn't my style, especially because married women "flying solo" was frowned upon in my town, so she suggested we go to the funfair on the Common for a laugh.
As she got off the bus, we agreed to meet at 6 pm on Friday at the bus station in town.
It was a lovely sunny and sultry evening, so I decided to wear my Wrangler jacket, with a new cotton dress that was a few inches above my knees and slightly flared. For the first time in months, I took great care with my make-up, especially the bright red lipstick.
Janet was wearing a short denim skirt and a pink cheesecloth shirt that was both a bit tight, and see-through, showing her cleavage and bright red bra.
After being convinced to have a couple of drinks to "start the night," we eventually went to the fair, which was packed with families and gangs of rowdy teenagers, but with Janet by my side, we hardly ever stopped laughing, which I'd forgotten I could do.
At about 8 pm, we went onto the Waltzer, where we soon caught the attention of the lad taking payment.
"Hello, ladies." He grinned as he held his hand out for the cash. "Are you looking for a fast ride or a slow one?" He winked.
I blushed, but Janet cheekily replied, "Oh, a fast one, of course; we both love a fast ride!"
He gave a cheeky smile and then locked the bar in place, accidentally touching my boob at the same time, making me shiver.
As the ride started. He returned and gave our car a big push, making it spin and making Janet and I squeal, which meant he gave it a two-handed push, and it spun so fast my dress lifted, giving anyone watching a view of my knickers!
The lad moved on to the other cars, but quickly returned, spinning the car again, and as my hands were gripping the bar, my dress lifted up again, much to his delight, as he was now standing inside the car with us.
"What's your name?" The badly tattooed and greasy-haired lad asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"I'm Janet, and she's Helen." My friend replied, "Why?"
He pouted and winked again, "I'm Shane," before jumping out and giving us another two-handed spin.
Our legs were wobbly as we got off. Out of nowhere, Shane appeared between us, and slid his arms under ours, cheekily tickling our tits as he helped us onto the top step.
I couldn't believe what had just happened and looked at Janet, who was laughing her head off.
"My skirt kept blowing up!" I gasped and laughed at the same time.
"I thought my tits were going to fall out."
"Do you girls want another ride?" Shane appeared again. "Free?"
We looked at each other and laughed, nodding at him.
Back in we went. The super-fast spinning began again. Each time my dress flew up in the air, much to the delight of some dads waiting for their kids, who kept getting flashes of my knickers.
At the end, Shane asked if we wanted a third ride, but Janet said she fancied a go on the dodgems next. Pretending to be upset, he pouted and then leaned in to whisper into Janet's ear, "Come back and see me when you want a proper ride, darling." Then he tapped her behind.
Somehow he must have signaled to the guy on the dodgems, as he too had a subtle feel of our boobs as he slid the leather strap over our heads. Much to Janet's amusement and my own embarrassment (sort of).
Half an hour later, Janet wanted to go back to the Waltzer, and who was I to stop her?
The look on Shane's face was priceless when he saw us. "Back for another fast ride, ladies?"
"Do we have to pay this time?" Janet giggled.
"A ride for a ride?" He laughed.
I wasn't sure what he meant, but Janet kept giggling, then looked at me, then back at him, and nodded.
"You're on then." The scruffily handsome fairground worker grinned.
He paid us even more attention than earlier. Making the car spin faster on each rotation, I would scream my lungs out as my dress would fly up again, which was strangely turning me on, and in my more lucid moments, I was looking forward to a good fingering session when I got home.
I was very dizzy when I got off the ride and hardly noticed Shane cupping my boob as he helped me to the top step.
There was a strange look on Janet's face as Shane said, "Stay there; I'm going to get some cover."
He leaned over the railing and called to another worker, telling him to take over while he went for a break.
Then, in the blink of an eye, he had his hands around both our waists, and we were walking away from the funfair towards the trailers and vans. At this stage, I naively didn't know what they had planned. So I just kept walking, occasionally pushing his wandering hand away from my boobs.
When we arrived at a big transit van, he let go of me as he opened the back door.
"In you go, ladies," he huskily told us, and without a second thought, I ungainly followed Janet in, clambering up in the most undignified fashion, only to be helped by Shane, who slid a hand up my dress and pushed me in with a huge hand on my nylon-covered arse.
