The Female DJ in Portugal series.
It had been a late finish last night, no it wasn't, it was this morning! Three thirty to be exact. I was knackered and hung over.
I enjoyed my work as a mobile Dee Jay, and I was bloody good at it, I could choose where I wanted to work, not like some others, almost having to beg bars to give them a go.
Of course, it did help that I was a twenty-five-year-old, drop-dead gorgeous female, or so they all tell me. Who am I to argue.
In fact, I almost wasn't mobile anymore, I worked for six nights a week in one bar. The other night, I had a club gig. So, I only had to move the music, the once. The gear stayed where it was.
As with many nights at the height of the season in Portugal, the bar manager would pay me extra, to keep going after midnight if there was still a good crowd in, as long as they were still spending at the bar, of course. Officially, in Alvor, the music licence ran to midnight, but provided the doors were closed, the music not too loud, then no one bothered you.
Last night, it had been two thirty by the time I stopped. And as is often the case, a number of customers either wanted to buy me a drink or chat me up, there was always a few guys, wanting to try their luck with me.
This time, I managed to get rid of the guys quite sharpish, I wanted to concentrate on one in a group of four girls.
They, just like everyone else, had a great evening. It had been, a brilliant night.
By nearly three o'clock, the girls had knocked back more than a few. One was totally pissed, two others, not far behind. Only the remaining one, seemed to be well in control of herself.
I knew that I had built a good rapport with them, through the course of the evening. So, when I joined them at the bar, we were soon knocking back a few shots. And generally having a good laugh.
They explained, that they always had one member of the group, who had to stay reasonably sober, to keep an eye out for the rest.
Just my luck, the one I was interested in, was the sober one.
Her name, it transpired, was Helen. Her face was almost pretty, just a bit angular and hard, but I found it fascinating. Her face changed when she smiled, then it was attractive. Her figure was fantastic. No big tits, in fact, they barely showed, but her body was slim and wiry. What stood out the most though, was the way here muscles rippled with every movement. She moved like a wild cat, stalking its prey. If one thing didn't quite fit the picture, then, it was her hair. The colour was a delicious shade of blonde, it was brushed back, and tied to form a high and long pony-tail.
I guessed, that she would be nineteen, maybe twenty.
Three of the girls talked freely with me, mostly nonsense I barely listened to, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't really get Helen involved. Oh, she wasn't rude or anything, just not openly talkative.
Yes, she told me her favourite music, I found where she came from, turned out to be Brighton, in Sussex. The gay capital of the UK. When I raised a questioning eyebrow at that one, she shook her head, saying she wasn't one of them. She was born there.
She was in the Uni athletics team, which explained the figure, and the muscles.
All I knew, was that I wanted to get in this girl's panties. Turned out, that they had only arrived yesterday, at least I had two weeks to score.
The manager called me around for a quick chat.
When I returned, the girls had, had to shuffle up to make room for another couple. My original seat had gone, so instead, I squeezed in next to Helen. I decided that I needed to play it cool, kind of the subtle approach. I would occasionally add the brush of my fingers, maybe to emphasise a point whilst chatting, or make sure my arm was against hers when I leaned over the bar to speak to the girl behind it.
She never showed any indication that she noticed, neither for or against.
Three thirty came all too quickly, and the girls said they were off to hit the hay, They promised they would be back tomorrow, hugged me a drunken good night, and off they staggered, all except for Helen, upright and sober Helen.
The next day, I was sitting at my usual lunchtime haunt, great coffee, great salad, and whatever else might grab you. Today, for the moment at least, I just needed coffee and loads of it.
My reverie was interrupted, "Hi Dina, how are you this morning?" I didn't look up, I hadn't cottoned on to the voice, I had thought it was one of my regular mates.
"Not good, terrible bloody head this morning, stayed up too late, drinking with a bunch of girls. Mind you, they were nice, especially one." All of my mates knew my inclination for the younger element of the female sex.
"Oh, and who might the special one have been?"
With a shock, I recognised the voice, Oh shit!
I lifted my head from my arms and turned, I couldn't help myself, my jaw dropped open, and I stared. She almost wasn't wearing anything, it was one of the tiniest bikinis I've ever seen.
Then Helen said, "Are you okay Dina?"
I knew I was blushing, something I just never did. But now I felt the flush, my cheeks were burning. "Oh, I'm sorry Helen, I thought it was someone else, you surprised me."
"Obviously, I can see that. So, you going to tell, who was the special one?"
"Well, no one really, just idle chat, I didn't mean any particular one, just showing off I suppose." Was all I could come up with. I tried to change the subject as quick as I could, "Where are the others then, not with you?"
"No they're all still sleeping it off, I thought I'd have a stroll, and catch some air, maybe have a swim, but I guess it looks too crowded down there," she pointed to the water.
Hesitantly, I said, "Well there's a beach out by the estuary, hardly anyone gets up there, too far to walk, I usually drive there."
She looked at me, "And? What are you saying?"
