Couple & their waitress on a topless beach
Husband and wife befriend a waitress, and she shows us the sights and then herself.
The misspoken English by the waitress is deliberate.
Holiday encounter
This is a tale about something that happened on a holiday to Croatia a few years ago.
Part 1
My wife Ann and I are in our late thirties and have been together for ten years. Sometimes, when people see us together for the first time, they do a double-take. I'm 6 foot 2 inch and very broad across the shoulders, something I claim comes from a Viking heritage. But in truth, it's down to the weight training I did as a teenager. My wife, on the other hand, is only 5 foot 1 inch and petite.
Because I've greying hair and a big bushy beard, sometimes she likes to pretend I'm her father, and talks in a girlish voice. Which always makes me a little uncomfortable when she does it in the bedroom. However, everything else we do in the bedroom is quite satisfactory.
We'd chosen a slightly upmarket hotel for our holiday, neither of us is keen on crowds, so it seemed a good choice. On our first morning, as we went down for breakfast, we were guided to our table by a waitress whose name badge said Sophia. She had thick, dark, shoulder-length hair and wore dark trousers, a waistcoat, white blouse and a dickey bow.
We tried out our few words of Croatian on her, and she seemed very pleased we'd learned even that much. Making a special fuss of us that, and subsequent mornings. Her English was a little broken, and with a thick accent, but infinitely better than our attempts at Croatian.
Even at the beginning of May, it was hot, and the heat and the hills took their toll on us. Usually, we'd retreat to our rooms for a couple of hours in the early afternoon.
On the third day, we were walking down the hill from the hotel in the late afternoon, when I spotted Sophia coming towards us, but still a way off. I spotted a youth on a scooter pull in at the side of the road and talk to Sophia. It was obvious she knew the young man, but it was equally obvious from her body language she wasn't happy to see him.
As we got closer, I heard his raised voice, presumably swearing at her in his native language. The other pedestrians seemed content to ignore it, but not me. My wife sensed me tensing up, and gave my arm a squeeze, warning me to be careful.
Then, without warning, the youth punched Sophia in the face.
I roared, "Stop that!" at him and he turned with an angry look to tell me to mind my own business. He was small and scrappy, and probably that earned him enough to intimidate a lot of people. However, seeing me towering over him with my fists clenched, he changed his mind about a fight.
Instead, he spat at Sophia's feet, made a gesture I took to be rude, jumped onto his scooter. Zooming off and narrowly avoiding being flattened by a taxi.
My wife is a nurse and was already dealing with Sophia. The guy had hit her on her right cheek and fortunately; the skin hadn't split. There would, however, be a swollen bruise there.
I asked if she was alright if we should call the police and so on, but Sophia insisted she was ok and didn't want the police involved.
I asked who that guy was, and she deflected, saying it was a long story.
My wife gave the young woman instructions on how to reduce the swelling and how important it was to do it immediately. Sophia assured her she would, as she was heading home already.
The next morning, Sophia greeted us again, but this morning she had her hair down, covering part of her face. After she'd brought us coffee, my wife insisted she inspect the injury. The cheek was swollen, and she'd made an effort to cover up the bruising with makeup. However, if you knew, you couldn't miss it.
I made a mental note. If I ever saw that kid again, I'd make him regret hitting Sophia. My wife must have noticed my expression, and after we were alone, she admitted she wanted to stamp on the guy's goolies.
Ann suggested we laze around the hotel this morning, and after breakfast, I headed to our room for our books, sun hats, etc. When I returned, Ann was talking to Sophia, and I took a discreet table to allow them to talk in private.
It turned out the guy was Sophia's ex and the father of her 3-year-old child. He'd always been a bit of a tearaway, and she regretted getting drunk and sleeping with him. Now it seemed he thought because she'd had his child, he had some sort of sway over her. Often appearing expecting sex, and most of the time she denied him, but occasionally she did not.
Because we'd spent all-day around the hotel, the pool and in the shade of the garden, I was full of energy. So I decided to go for a jog as soon as it got dark. The streets were surprisingly quiet, the lull between workers going home, and tourists going out.
As I slowly jogged up the hill towards the hotel, I heard a noise that some primitive part of my brain identified as danger. However, it took my forebrain another few seconds to work it out, and I looked over my shoulder. It was the guy on the scooter coming up the hill on the other side of the road.
Our eyes locked until he'd passed me. Then he started to slow and pulled a U-turn. Then he mounted the pavement about 100 feet ahead of me. This could be interesting. On one side of the pavement was a low, but wide, stone wall overlooking a 20-foot drop into someone's backyard. On the other side was a row of tightly spaced parked cars. I could easily throw myself onto one of the cars to avoid him. If that's what I wanted.
He twisted the throttle, and the scooter shot towards me, and I needed to time this right. Taking a lunging step towards the cars. He adjusted his aim, and I took another lunging step the other way, and up on to the wall. Letting my trailing leg kick out.
My foot hit the end of the handlebars as I'd intended, and everything seemed to happen at once. The front of the scooter turned, instantly tipping it sideways. The wheel hit the wall and stopped, kicking the back of the scooter up and launching the guy through a lovely trajectory.
Which was unfortunately interrupted as his arm, and then the rest of his body, impacted the wing mirror of an expensive-looking Mercedes. His cry of pain is joined by the wail of a car alarm and flashing lights of the injured car.
'Perfect', I thought. I'd not had to touch him, but I jumped at the sudden sound of a police car only yards away. As two armed officers leapt from the car, I felt foolish standing on the wall, so I stepped down.
I won't bore you with the details. The guy was arrested before being taken to a hospital to deal with his injuries. The police had not seen me kick the handlebars and assumed he just lost control while trying to rob or intimidate me. And it didn't seem like my place to correct them.
Back at the hotel, I found myself humming while I took a shower, which triggered my wife's sleuth-like deductions. She questioned me far more thoroughly than the police, and I admitted exactly what had happened.
I expected some sort of rebuke for being stupid, behaving like a teenager, or something. What I didn't expect was her to pull my towel off and drop to her knees and give me an enthusiastic blowjob. Then we went out for dinner, where my wife rather cheekily told our waiter she'd already had her 'starter' before she came out, while looking at me.
When we got back to the hotel, my wife was in the mood, and we stayed up late making love. In the morning, my wife let me have a lie-in, as she went down to breakfast. Or more precisely, to feed her caffeine fix.
After an hour, I decided it was time to get up, and I found my wife in the hotel garden. She reminded me about a public garden we'd talked about visiting, but I'd rejected it after I'd read the trip on the bus was too tricky. She told me that Sophia offered to guide us tomorrow, as it was her day off.
I felt a little awkward accepting Sophia's help but didn't want to disappoint my wife, so decided not to argue. Ten years married, right? I'm not entirely stupid.
