Saturday, October 6, 2012

50 SHADES OF WAMBI



Rochelle had been drinking at her friend's house since 4pm downing Midori and pineapple juice like it was going out of fashion at Supre and she was a tiny bit anxious about whether or not she would be allowed into Sirens tonight (she had punched a guy in the mouth last weekend because he told her she looked intelligent).

As the final sips of her green drink slipped down her throat she realised that the time had come to slip into her gold body con dress and kitten heels and stumble down to the beer garden. Her friends and herself slowly walked down the Esplanade screaming at cars and telling passers by to fuck off. This was the life.

She arrived at the beer garden and struggled to get her ID out of her wallet. The bouncer looked at her with a glance that read something between arousal and suspicion. She was used to that though.

She stood in the bar line, eyeing up the competition and confirming to her friends that indeed she was the hottest slut in the place. She sat down outside and lit up a Menthol. Looking around, she could barely focus due to the glare of the lights and the pumping Pitbull tune that blasted from the speakers. She made a mental note to give the DJ a BJ one day for playing "her song".

Looking back down into her watered down drink, she glanced up and noticed him. He was kind of short but had muscles for days and she knew right away that they shared an unrivalled chemistry. But she didn't listen to her teacher while taking Chemistry in high school, but she heard that show "Breaking Bad" was heaps good so she decided to saunter on over to him anyway.

"Hey", she said.
"Hey, he replied.

It was undeniable. It was gonna fucken happen tonight.

They made their way to the bar together and then soon followed him into the pokies room to smoke and sit there while he jostled about with his mates. She knew all she had to do was sit there and pout. This was the ultimate move when it came to pulling this calibre of man. A high calibre indeed, she thought.

As the bouncers spat in her face that "EVERYONE MUST GO INSIDE" they decided to make their way to Pizza Inn. She ordered the family meatlovers and waited for 45 minutes until it came. They stared into each others eyes as they chowed down on the oily goodness and she secretly dreamt of rubbing it all over his ample pectorials.

Sirens was the next stop, and thank fuck she got in. The guy didn't remember her as she was wearing a neon pink body con last weekend she was cloaked in gold, so he didnt remember, ay.

They boogied on down until the wee hours, slipping and sliding to buggery on the dancefloor and trying tirelessly to avoid the advances of the eldery manager of the establishment.

As the night drew to a close, there was no way she would wait in line for the taxis.

He asked, "Oi... do you wanna walk back to mine, I live just off Ocean View."
She replied, "Oh my god I walk that road every Saturday morning in nothing but a crop sports bra. I would love it, ay."

They began walking home, with his hand planted firmly on her ass, showing that he really cared. This guy was different. This guy was a find.

By the time they reached the roundabout near the pub, the tension became too much. They walked down into that little hideaway just off the road near the lake and proceeded to get to it. They heard a rustling in the bushes and for a moment they thought it could be someone she knew. Na, it was just a bush turkey scrounging around for her dignity. Neither the bush turkey or Rochelle found it that fateful night.

He ripped off her g banger and pulled down his drawers. He told her, "Wait babe, let me put my oakleys on. They make me dick look bigger and browner ha yeah man."
She couldn't believe that she had found someone so daring to take her down the lake track AND someone who had oakleys. They would suit her ute to a tee. She could see him throwing his dart stubs out the window on the F3 already.
"Oi babe, can I give ya a prawn cutlet?", he asked tenderly.
"Fuck off cunt! Me mate did that and didnt get sand out of er for weeks."

After an impressive 3 minutes he scrambled to put his dacks back on and congratulate himself on giving this girl the best night of her life. Puffing and out of breath (due to all the menthols she smoked) she looked up at the stars and softly whispered,
"fucken oath mate."

They trotted along for a little while longer along Ocean View Drive and found themselves outside Rajdhani's.
"Fuck i love the garlic and cheese naan", he said.
She already knew, she could taste it on his breath earlier in the night when she was pissing just near the pine trees and he lent down for a kiss.

She had found her Shane Warne to her Liz Hurley. This was it. And just as they stopped once again outside Godfather's Pizza, she knew she was in love. And he knew he was knuckle deep in Rochelle.