The Perth, Australia bar and grill was filled with American sailors and Marines -- they'd arrived a week ago and were to leave in two days. It was the fourth Thursday of November, and some of the troops looked bothered they were missing some American holiday called Thanksgiving. Something they wanted to spend in the States, not Perth.
She didn't know why they were so depressed. In America, it was about winter time -- here, on the other side of the Equator, it was summer and the beaches were filled with Aussie girls wanting American-accented military men.
Michelle had laughed about the idea earlier in the day. The last thing she wanted was a fling with some arrogant American, but her teenage coworker was praising the skills of a Marine she'd bedded the night before. When one insisted Michelle go out with "the guys," she'd initially declined. Then she thought she might just meet a friendly U.S. boy.
Michelle didn't want to go out with the company's old buggers. They were a bunch of arrogant asses she worked with at the timber company, but they persuaded her to go out. So here she was, with five old, ugly typical guys. They cracked jokes about the waitresses as they drank their beer, but Michelle was feeling okay after four rum and Cokes -- she didn't even hear the burly coworkers anymore. She was paying attention to the brown-haired American a table away.
How long had it been since she'd had sex? A year since her husband left her and her son? At least a year. Last night didn't count, because masturbation isn't sex unless a person is a nun or a priest -- and Michelle was far from that. She wasn't a whore, but she was definitely not a nun. She loved orgasms. She was approaching her sexual peak, being 33-years-old.
The man -- hell, not really a man, he couldn't have been older than 21 -- he was cute, and he smiled a lot. She liked that idea. He laughed with his two friends, and he smiled as they laughed at his jokes. Sure seemed like he would treat a woman right from a table away.
Navy photographer's mate 2nd class Nick Boston looked at his watch. It was 9:54 p.m. He smirked at his luck. Single and in Australia, he hadn't hooked-up once -- and he was on duty in eight hours. He'd decided to leave the Perth scene at 10 p.m., go back to USS Wake Island and get a good night of sleep before having to help the public affairs pukes with shipboard tours at Zero-Dark-30.
"John," he looked at one of his Marine friends, "I gotta fucking rack out. I'm going to leave." He was disappointed. He had fallen in love about 435 times an hour while walking the Perth and Fremantle streets; he had fallen in lust twice as many times; but it was all for naught. No sex, no kisses, nadda. A few nice smiles, but no sex. He would have to wait until the ship returned to its home port in Bremerton, Washington in December -- the girls there liked to cuddle up in the chilly weather.
Michelle saw the boy look at his watch and indicate he was leaving -- she saw him say "going to leave." Thank God they both spoke English. She sipped down her rum and Coke and got brave.
"HEY!" she yelled over the Rolling Stone's music. "Hey you!" The brown-haired man turned and looked at the blonde woman sitting surrounded by five husky Australia's. They looked like lumberjacks. He decided she wasn't talking to him and looked at his friends.
"She's talking to you, dude," John said.
"Huh?"
"Hey, you!" Michelle yelled again. If this didn't work, she was going to give up. She thought he was cute, but wasn't going to waste her efforts or self-esteem on a boy who wouldn't look at her twice.
"Me?" he asked, confirming. The woman smiled. "Yes, you. Come here. You and your friends, come here. Come talk with us. We like talking to American's. You are fun to hang out with."
That accent -- that Australian accent -- was drove him nuts. He loved the tone of her voice. She was pretty. Older, maybe 30 or 35, but pretty. Blonde hair to her shoulders. Big blue eyes, but somehow she looked sad. Like a person whose heart had slipped into the mighty Pacific Ocean. He sat down with his two friends and the group exchanged handshakes and how-do-you-dos. He was right, the Australians were lumberjacks like the men he knew in Washington State. The woman -- Michelle -- got up and forced the men to move one seat over so she could sit next to the American who she first noticed -- Nick.
"Hi," she leaned over to him, putting her chin on his bicep. She felt strength there. "Wow. Impressive," she smiled wrapping her hand around his arm. He hid his muscle in a loose fitting shirt -- most men would show that off, she thought. It made her desire him even more, but he looked so clueless to the notion -- like he was just going with the flow.
"Thanks," he smiled.
Michelle leaned up and kissed him, pulled back two inches and looked at him. He didn't try to jam his tongue in her mouth, he just accepted the kiss and kissed back lightly. It was the perfect first kiss. She felt him exhale, air brushing against her face -- he smelled fresh, his breath clean -- not like other men she'd been with, scented with two days of body odor and coffee. She wrapped her hand into his and kissed him harder, flickering her tongue into his mouth.
Okay, he decided, I'm not going to make 10 p.m. Taps-taps-lights-out on the ship tonight. I'm going to stay in Perth for a little while longer. I'll be back onboard before midnight, though. Probably.
"I've got a secret to tell you," she said, leaning closer and whispering into his ear. "I'm going to fuck the hell out of you tonight."
Midnight suddenly sounded a little early.
"You two should go get a room," a sailor said at the table. Laughter erupted among the seven guys drinking beer and talking dick-and-fart jokes while they looked at the couple acting like 15-year-olds making out for the first time. "A fuckin' room," one of the lumberjacks added. More laughter, but Michelle just glared into Nick's eyes and stood up.
"We are. Bye." She lead him by the hand and embraced him as he stood up. It was the first time their entire bodies touched in the dark but-lively-bar. Her body was electrified, like she was on her honeymoon again -- except this was different. This man liked to smile, unlike her exhusband. He bitched and complained like a girl with acne at the Christmas formal dance.
Michelle felt his body -- as much as she could without being booted out quickly. The boy was about a half-metre taller than her, and felt ripped underneath his clothes -- but it wasn't something a person would know just looking at him. He had no body fat she could feel. His hazel-green eyes looked down into hers. His skin was tanned with freckles on the back of his shoulders. She wanted him. She repeated the fact to him.
"I'm going to fuck the hell out of you tonight."
This is insane, Nick thought. This is going to be some terrible joke. This chick's going to have a dick or something. I don't have this kind of luck. Beautiful women go for jerks, I've seen it four thousand times -- why did she pick me? And she was beautiful, the more he looked at her, the more he realized it. Fifteen years ago, she was probably the queen of her high school prom -- or whatever they have down here down under. She had a small body and small breasts -- but he liked the idea of holding all of her in his arms -- if it wasn't a terrible joke or transvestite looking to upend his night.
Ten minutes later, they were checking into a nice hotel three blocks away. Nick asked for a room with a spa and balcony. If it did go south, he wanted to at least be able to get some rest himself. They kissed in the elevator and he reached his fingers up and down Michelle's body. Spreading her legs apart and pressing his hand against her pussy, he felt how she melted against him.
She wanted to cum right there -- right in the lift. Why had he called it an elevator? Funny language differences, American's saying a lift is an elevator. Well, hopefully "fuck" means the same thing in both versions of English -- so far it seemed like Nick translated it the same way she did, despite their different nationalities and the apparent generation gap.
He fumbled with the cardkey to the room and they kissed frantically like it was their night of losing virginity. For Michelle, it had been 15 months since her ex-husband last touched her. For Nick, his last affair was with a friend of his named Jenni from a coffee house in Bremerton.
