"Drink?" he slurred stumbling towards me.
"Got one, but I'll have another."
"Gary," he shouted over the booming music.
"Heidi," I yelled back.
"Heidi? Really?"
"No but it will do won't it?"
Gary gave me a lecherous sneer. "I like your bikini...and your tits."
Ugh, he was pissed. Still, what did I care? His shorts were tenting. Not bad. "I like your boner, is that for me?"
Garry grinned and stroked the erection confined within his Bermuda shorts. "Could be, if you play your cards right."
What an awful line. "Buy me a drink and I'll think about it," I replied. May as well give him a chance, I hadn't had any better offers. "I'll have a Vodka and cranberry. Make it a large vodka."
I deliberately chose an expensive drink and watched Gary's reaction. He didn't bat an eyelid. Ok, so money wasn't an issue. Big tick for that. Gary leaned over the bar and waved to get attention. I took a good look at him whilst his back was turned.
He was ok; around six feet tall, well-built but not too muscular. He looked like a sports player rather than a gym dweller. That was good so long as his sport wasn't football. I hated footballers.
Gary was young, perhaps early twenties. He was neatly dressed but his face was unshaven and his hair massy. Another big tick as I was concerned. I loathed vain men. No man should spend more time looking in the mirror than I did.
I peered more closely at the back of his head, was he ginger? It was hard to tell under the coloured lights. His complexion backed up the ginger theory - pale, patches of red where he'd overdone the sunbathing or forgotten his factor fifty, and freckles...hell, he was ginger and very obviously British. That was a London or Home Counties accent if I wasn't mistaken. He was probably on a Club 1830's holiday with his mates. That wasn't so good. I should escape, quickly.
"There you go. Cheers!"
Hmm. Too late.
Gary handed me a tall glass of cranberry and vodka. I took a sip; it was a double, just as I'd ordered. That was promising - he'd listened to me and my cash theory looked to be correct. Gary took a slurp from his own drink, a pint of lager (what a surprise) and beamed at me. His smile was lovely, warm and genuine. He was confident too. I liked that.
"Thanks Gary, cheers," I said touching my glass to his.
Right, so Gary would be my company for a while. I didn't mind that. He had enough money to keep the drinks flowing and he wasn't bad looking. Provided he didn't try to talk too much we'd get along famously. I sat back on my bar stool, the flight instinct gone. I wanted sex that night and Gary would do. I glanced down at the hard-on still prominent beneath his shorts. Well, he was certainly up for it, another randy holiday maker looking for a quick fuck. Good. So be it.
Like Gary I was British but I wasn't in Cyprus on holiday. I lived there, least I did at that point in my life. I'd arrived at the start of the holiday season with a plan to stay as long as I could. Permanently if I found enough work. I'd been lucky thus far. I'd secured a job before the end of my first week and found a second shortly after that. I worked as a waitress from 6.00am to 2.00pm then transformed myself into a bar maid from 8.00pm to whenever the bar closed down for the night. It was hard going and the wages were poor but the work was easy. I earned enough to live on, put a bit aside, and I absolutely loved living in Cyrus. The country was beautiful, it's population friendly and the climate was divine. Life in Britain had been miserable for me for quite some time and moving to Cyprus was my new start.
Life abroad wasn't all work either. I was entitled to one day off per week and had swapped my shifts around so that my day off at the cafΓ© and the bar coincided. I spent my precious free time sunbathing and making the most of the perks on offer in a resort teaming with young men whose sole mission was to shag as many women as they could during their seven days of holiday freedom. I'd never had much success with men in Britain but in Cyprus I sampled cock at least twice a week at the close of my bar shift and always on my day off. Gary looked like being my latest conquest and as I'd been off work that day I had the whole night available to fuck him.
I took another look at my red-haired admirer. He wasn't ideal, not really my type, but he'd make a decent enough one-night-stand. He seemed to have plenty of energy and his cock was huge! I couldn't help staring at it straining against his shorts. It really was something.
The amount of alcohol Gary had consumed bothered me. I didn't care if he couldn't remember who I was after he'd shagged me but I didn't want him passing out in the middle of sex or worse, throwing up. I'd had that happen once. It wasn't nice and I'd sworn it would never happen again. I'd have to steer Gary onto water. It shouldn't be too difficult.
That cock...I reached out to touch it. I couldn't resist. I ran my fingers along its length. It was very hard, ready for action, and was both fat and long. That was a big cock. It would fill me. Who cared what it was attached to?
Gary flinched and pushed my hand away. "You're keen," he said uncomfortably.
I sniggered.
"So," said Gary clearing his throat. "Are you in here with friends?"
"No."
"Oh. Ok. Do you come here often?"
Oh dear, not that line. "Yes."
"Right. Do you want to talk to me?" he asked sounding a little confused.
"No, not really."
Gary frowned.
"Sex," I said leaning forwards, "I want sex."
"Oh, ok. With me?"
I nodded.
"What now?"
I touched his penis again, closing my fingers around it. "Something tells me you won't turn me down."
Gary left my hand where it was. "Ok, yes, I think you're right. Fuck, what gave it away?"
I smiled, "not sure. Well Gary, I'm offering you casual sex, no strings. Do you want it?"
Gary took a deep breath. "Yes. No. Yes. Fuck! Ok, I like you, I do, but shouldn't we get to know each other a bit before having sex?"
Seriously? He didn't look like the type to turn down a fuck and turning down me? No-one did that. I was quite a looker, men liked me. Twenty-six, blond, petite build, slender legs, firm ass - get the picture? I looked good. I glared at Gary.
"What?" he stammered. "Can't I talk to you before I shag you?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Why do you need to?" I retorted.
"I dunno. In case things develop, you know, last longer than tonight."
"They won't."
"Oh right. Don't you like me then?"