Heather Falls In Love Pt 06

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

(June 2004)

Heather wasn't superstitious but did believe happenings came in threes. Good happenings and bad happenings, that was. As she put distance between herself and as many Sydneysiders as possible, she reckoned she'd had her share of bad for now. Surely she had. Wasn't breaking up with Ingrid, getting a terminal prognosis on the campervan and having an AIDS scare enough for one losing streak?

Oh, if only she'd known.

Heather parked up for the night on the outskirts of a holiday sort of place called Forster, maybe two hundred miles into her flit. Being a good, responsible tourist, she paid to stay on a campsite. Being in no mood to put up the tent or prepare a meal, she then locked up and headed for the nearest bar.

Mary Rose would have called it "drinking on an empty head". She wasn't there to snipe though, was she? And Heather wasn't a complete dipstick: she ordered sandwiches along with all the beer. That is to say, she ordered a few sandwiches and lots and lots of beer.

After about an hour she realized the barman had his eye on her, in a lusty sort of a way. Sighing, she wondered how to let him down lightly. He was handsome enough, but she felt no attraction to him at all. And, even if she had already scrapped that nonsense about never having "any form of sex" again, men were definitely out of the frame . . . for now at least, possibly for ever. Conveniently, before he could make a move on her, a new customer arrived at the bar.

'Hi,' she said, after ordering three schooners of Tooheys, 'I'm Carole with an E.'

'Hiya, Carole with an E. I'm Hev with a V.'

Carole was about twenty-five and had a strong Liverpudlian accent. 'I'm over there with the rest of the Liver birds,' she said, indicating a nearby table. 'Why don't you come and make up a foursome?'

Something in her eyes intrigued Heather. 'I'm supposed to be brooding,' she said, 'maybe after a few more beers.'

'Suit yourself.' Carole smiled, winked and headed back to her friends.

Watching her, Heather took stock: a sexy smile and even better-looking from behind. Okay, her ass was a bit on the plump side, but that was no deterrent. Plump asses could be as good on the eye as skinny ones. And they could be good in lots of other ways, too.

She had a slurp of beer and signalled for a refill, still watching Carole. Carole was saying something to her mates and they were all looking bar-wards. When they waved to her Heather waved back.

Three bad happenings, she thought. Maybe I'm destined for three good happenings with that little lot.

'You want to be careful with them.'

She turned to find her refill on a drip-mat and the barman staring at her. 'Is that a Shee . . .' She stopped herself just in time. 'Is that a Kiwi accent?'

'Yeah,' he said, 'I'm what the locals call a Sheepshagger. Not that I bother with sheep; not when there are so many beautiful girls in the world.'

'Same here.' Heather raised a wry smile. 'I don't bother with sheep for exactly the same reason. Does that put me on a par with those three?'

'Probably.' The Kiwi helped himself to the right change from the pile on the bar top and hesitated. 'Look, I'm not putting them down, but they're not the best customers I've ever had.'

Heather took that as a challenge. 'I'll have one of those giant jugs of Tooheys as well, please.'

*****

Carole greeted her with another sexy smile before making the introductions. 'This one, the one with all the mascara, is Skanky Sue. And the blonde bombshell's Marigold. They're sort of together, so you can sit next to me.'

Skanky Sue topped up her friends' glasses from the jug while Heather squeezed in beside Carole. It was a cosy fit and their bare legs pressed together. After so long with Rod the fellow-female contact was nice. She didn't complain when Carole's hand immediately settled on her knee.

'We're on our way to Sydney,' Marigold announced, 'thumbing it, because funds are tight until we get there.'

'I'm on my way up north,' said Heather, 'otherwise I'd offer you a lift.'

'What can I do to make you turn back for Sydney?' asked Skanky Sue, giggling. 'Go on, tell me. I'm open to all suggestions.'

'Oi,' said Marigold, 'you're supposed to be my bit of skirt.'

'I'm trying to get us a lift,' her friend countered. 'And you're screwin' Cazza every other night, so what does it matter?'

'Have another Gary Ablett and shurrup, the pair of you,' added Carole.

To Heather's amazement Marigold rooted in her clutch bag and passed Skanky Sue something small. Acting in perfect unison, they both popped "somethings" in their mouths and washed down whatever they were with more Tooheys.

'Manners,' said Carole. 'You haven't offered Hev one.'

'I have,' said Skanky Sue, giggling again.

Heather interrupted before Marigold could reopen her bag. 'Thanks, but no. I need an early night.'

'Well why didn't you say? I'm well up for that.'

'Sue,' said Carole, 'shurrup, will you!' Then, to Heather, 'Is there really no chance of a lift to Sydney? I'm getting ackers off a mate when we get there. I'll see you right.'

'Sorry, I have to be somewhere.' Heather mentally crossed her fingers as she spoke. Time wasn't so tight on her; it would only be a day out of her way and she could spare that. But these three were too much to be with for long. Their bantering was accompanied by gales of laughter, yet it was borderline aggressive for all that. And what the heck had those two just taken?

'Ta anyway,' Carole said. 'And don't worry about it. God will provide. He always does in the end.'

'I'll still have a go at changing your direction.' Skanky Sue didn't actually look skanky. Even caked in mascara she was easily the hottest of the three. Her eyes were odd, however. In fact her pupils were dilated and the rest of her body seemed hyperactive. 'I think you regularly go in my direction anyway, but it can't hurt to find out for sure, eh?'

'Don't listen to her,' said Carole, edging her hand ever higher up Heather's leg, 'after a few drinks she turns into a proper gobshite. And she's just like a fella: all mouth and no trousers.'

Marigold spoke for only the second or third time, her voice like nails scratching on glass: 'Says she! If your tart hadn't effed off we'd be in Sydney by now.'

'What's that got to do with the price of tea in China?' Carole wondered with an extravagant shrug.

'She effed off with our effing money, didn't she? Last seen heading for Cairns Airport . . .'

Heather was tempted to break a cardinal rule and offer a loan. Except, of course, a loan to these Liver birds was unlikely to ever be repaid. 'I'll get more beer,' she said. 'Then I'm hitting the hay.'

The conversation was lighter from then, with no hint of aggression. Beginning to relax, her woes for the time being forgotten, Heather stayed longer than she'd intended. The threesome let her buy four more jugs then, before she could get up and go, Carole's hand was on her groin, gently rubbing.

'You've been very hospitable,' she almost whispered. 'Come back to our tent. We want to thoroughly thank you.'

'I want to thoroughly fuck you,' said Skanky Sue, giggling as per always.

'We've got wine and grass,' Carole added. 'And these two will put on a show for us.'

Heather was tired from her night without sleep, so perhaps her judgment was affected. Perhaps it was Carole's intimate touch under the table. Whatever the reason, even though she deplored drug taking, something made her nod.

'Why not?' she said. 'I like a good floorshow.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

(June 2004)

The girls' tent was one of those enormous things, big enough to stand up in and capable of sleeping a family of ten.

'We got it off someone on his way back home,' Carole explained.

'Me and Mari fucked him for it,' Skanky Sue enlarged, 'furtively, while Cazza played rounders with his wife and kids. Talk about teamwork, eh?'

'Try this.' Carole gave Heather a plastic glass of white wine. 'It's cleanskin, but it tastes okay. And it's cold.'

'And try this as well.' Marigold took a deep drag on a massive spliff before handing it over.

Heather's hatred of drugs didn't extent to spliffs. That sort of smoking had been widespread at her school. It only took her moments to realize this was quality stuff. Light-headed already, she swiftly passed it on to Skanky Sue.

'Time for the floorshow,' said Carole. 'Do you want to pick the participants, Hev? Or shall we just go with Plan A and leave it to these two?'

They were seated on the groundsheet in the middle of the tent. Carole's hand was back on Heather's groin. Without pausing for thought, Heather kissed that sexy smile of hers. Carole returned the kiss, softly at first, then with rapidly mounting ardour. Then, when Heather started to pile on the passion in earnest, she opened her mouth and let in her invading tongue.

Not that the passion was all one-sided. Carole's rubbing wasn't gentle anymore, it was approaching frantic. And even with her shorts in the way, Heather's body responded enthusiastically. Not to be outdone, she grabbed Carole's ample breasts, squeezing and kneading them through the material of her thin T-shirt. Carole made urgent, appreciative noises via her nostrils, never once breaking their kiss.

And suddenly Heather was off on one of her hour-long binges. Not that she timed it. Oh no, when the mood gripped her, she cared for nothing but sensation. Encouragingly, Carole seemed happy to binge with her. They must have both been emitting sex pheromones like billy-o.

Later, much later, somehow naked, partially sated, they finally rested.

'Heart and soul,' Carole said amid great gasps for breath, 'I like your style.'

'So do I,' said Skanky Sue. 'Do I get a go?'

Only then did Heather realize they'd had an audience. The so-called "floorshow girls" were still fully dressed, smoking, drinking and watching.

*****

It had taken Claire ages to get the number and, now she was actually making the call, time seemed to have stood still altogether. To make matters worse, her face gave nothing away at all. Ingrid watched her closely, occasionally sniffling into a tissue, a glass of beer untouched on the low table before her. Claire's living room, usually light and airy, seemed oppressive and stuffy.

My God, she thought, it's like waiting for the judge to put on his black cap.

At last Claire was done. 'They arrived safe and well in Sydney on Monday,' she said, putting away her mobile. 'Rod's friend was away so they stayed at his place for a night or two. Then she set off on her own for Cairns. Rod says she was fine when she left. But he sounded cagey. I think they might have fallen out.'

'He's performed miracles to stick with her as long as he did.' Ingrid raised a weak chuckle. 'Hev has the attention-span of a goldfish when it comes to men. If he got all clingy when she said she was on her way, she'll have given him short shrift.'

Claire had a swig of beer. 'Look Ingrid, tell me to mind my own business, but why don't you ring her?'

'Her phone will be off. She only carries it for emergencies. And besides, I promised I wouldn't ring.'

'Stupid promise if you ask me. And how much of an emergency does it need to be, for Christ's sake? Poor old Bradley's driving everybody nuts while he waits for your answer. Leave it much longer and he'll be back in therapy.'

'I'll go and see him tomorrow,' Ingrid said tearfully. 'I'll let him know how the land lies and come to an agreement. I know I can't keep drifting on. And I know what needs to be done. It's Hev, though. She's like that Kylie song. I can't get her out of my head.'

*****

Just knowing they'd been watched turned Heather on massively. And, now she looked more carefully, she could see they'd done something for the watchers, too. Marigold and Skanky Sue weren't prissily dressed after all; their clothes were distinctly awry.

'Okay Sue,' she said, trying to sound seductive, finding herself unable to call her "Skanky", 'let's find out if you've got the trousers to go with your mouth.'

Sue quickly got up onto her knees and started towards her. It seemed important to be out of Carole's floor-space so Heather met her halfway. And good grief, wasn't this exciting! All her negative thoughts and memories were wiped in the rush: breakups, dying vehicles, daredevil boyfriends . . . forgotten, every last one. This was here and now, and she had two new lovers to shag.

Good happenings were coming in threes!

How could she ever have doubted herself!!

Up close and personal, Heather decided she'd been right: despite the dilated pupils Sue was far away the most attractive of the trio. Perhaps a shade on the skinny side, she was nothing if not alluring. To be brutally honest, she radiated sex. Heather's excitement levels rose as she remembered the girl popping her pills. "Gary Abletts" were ecstasy tablets, weren't they? Sue's body was still twitching in a hyperactive way, so maybe she'd popped some more. Or maybe she was always hyper. Whatever it was, shagging her was going to be interesting.

And this time she knew she was being watched . . .

How different, new and exciting was that!!

Suspecting Sue would want to start the same way Carole had started, Heather deliberately kept their opening kiss cool. While the skinny girl tried to inject some oomph her fingers busied themselves on her back, tracing the edges of her shoulder-blades, running down the ridges of her spine. Then, wet and willing but somehow managing to control herself, she tugged off Sue's T.

'Nice nips,' she said appreciatively.

And she wasn't joking. When she wasn't away travelling she worked hard to keep her body as near to perfection as possible. And her body was great; everyone liked it. Her only complaint (one which had never been voiced by a lover) was that her nipples were too large. More specifically, her boobs were round and hard and exactly the right size, but her nips belonged on someone with twice the chest.

Sue's boobs weren't so much of a handful but her nipples were easily as big as Heather's. They were hard too, and they hadn't been sucked yet. Quickly remedying that oversight, Heather's fingers traced blades and ran over ridges again, preferring it now Sue's back was bare, liking the thin, oily sheen of sweat on her skin. Sue liked it as well; she was groaning and moaning already.

Keen to progress, Heather got to her feet and, signalling for Sue to stay as she was, upright on her knees on the groundsheet, circled behind her. The other two were watching intently, Carole jilling, Marigold still more or less dressed and smiling distantly.

'What's with you, Marigold?' Heather put a finger to her lips, strutting like the teasing bimbo she was pretending to be. 'Too shy to join in?'

Then, without further ado, she brought herself off by rubbing against Sue's shoulder. It didn't take long and her cum was, to say the least, copious. Quick as a flash, she knelt, catching the flow, scooping it two-handed up Sue's back, preventing it reaching her shorts.

Steadily and deliberately massaging it into her perspiring, trembling flesh.

Then, satisfied her juice had become part of her latest lover, she reached round and cupped her small breasts, toying with them, caressing and cajoling.

'Fuck me,' said Sue, her voice strained, less cocksure than usual. 'I just came in my pants.'

'Did you? Do let me investigate.'

Sue's shorts were actually sawn-off Wranglers. Still snuggled up to her sweaty, juice-laden body, Heather popped the brass button and tugged the zip. Then, as her hand delved inside, she got the most wonderful surprise.

Good grief, the lass couldn't have shaved for months on end!

'This I have to see,' she said. 'Stand up and turn around.'

Sue obeyed and, from her kneeling position, Heather eased down the shorts, enabling Sue to step out of them, one truncated leg at a time.

'Wow, what a wonderful sight!'

Sue's pubes matched the hair on her head: they were thick, jet-black and there was a great bush of them, on a level with Heather's face. Close as she was, she couldn't discern Sue's clitoral hood. She could, however, easily make out her inner lips. Purple-red and glistening between her hairy, throbbing outer lips, they were impossible to be missed.

They were also impossible not to be kissed. Aware that, in her peripheral vision, Marigold had now joined in the jilling, Heather set to work with a will. Sue (who had indeed recently cum in her pants) helped by stopping exactly where she was.

As a sexual act this was up there with the best. Heather had to really burrow to find the girl's clit. It wasn't quite like looking for a needle in a haystack, but it wasn't so easy. Luckily, she knew what the needle felt like and where it was located . . .

'Yes, yes, yes,' Sue hissed. 'Fuck me, yes!'

Eventually, after a lot of licking and kissing, Heather inserted two fingers. As she did so she became aware of rock music in the background. It was Highway to Hell if she wasn't mistaken, and it made a pleasant change to Rose Royce.

A little later, when Sue's knees went all bendy and she flopped down onto her back, Heather heard the opening bars to Bat Out of Hell and that was that. The Liver bird got the whole album's worth of subtly varying rhythms. Okay, she didn't get the dashboard light to see by, but she showed very regular indications that she was visiting paradise.

'I want to sixty-nine,' Heather said as For Crying Out Loud faded. 'And I fancy more AC/DC. Who's in charge of the tunes?'

'I want to close my eyes and die,' said Sue. 'Carole's right, you're all hammer and tongs.'

'They're not our tunes,' said Carole. 'It's the guys in the next tent. Unless we go round and complain, we get what we're given.'

'Yeah,' said Marigold, 'and if we go round they try to give us more than a few tunes.'

'That's outrageous,' said Heather. 'Doesn't this site have patrols?'

'No that I've noticed,' Carole said. 'But don't knock it. They'd have been here to investigate Skanky's screaming long before they bothered with Meat Loaf's.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

(June 2004)

Heather noted that Marigold wasn't in a hurry to take her turn. To some extent that wasn't a concern. Carole might have called her a "blonde bombshell" but there were other words to describe her. Like, for instance, "miserable fat cow".

Don't be mean, Heather scolded herself, perhaps she really is too shy to join in.

She chewed over that one a second. It was hard to believe a companion of Carole and Sue's could be anything but adventurous. And Marigold had publically jilled . . .

The yawn caught Heather unawares. Last night must have taken more out of her than she'd realized. She wasn't nearly as invigorated as usual. Not that she was dangerously sleepy. Not that she wanted to say Two Out of Three Ain't Bad and leave it at that. No, that yawn could be used, couldn't it? She could spare the shy girl's blushes and score her hat-trick at the same time.

My hat-trick of happy happenings!

'I need some shuteye,' she said, smiling at Marigold, 'and I can only sleep in my campervan. But you can come with me, if you want.'

'What, all of us?'

'There isn't room for all of us, just me and you.'

Carole laughed limply. 'I've had enough for today. Go for it, Mari.'

Heather picked up her plastic glass, amazed it hadn't been knocked over in one affray or another. The wine was by then warm but hey, she was used to it. She downed every last drop then reached for her shorts.

And froze.

Her wallet was gone.

Telling herself to keep calm, she rechecked her pockets, finding loose change and keys but no wallet. The Kiwi's words came back to her unbidden.

'You want to be careful with them.'

'Lost something?' Marigold's voice was more squeaky/scratchy than ever.