by Tania Cooper
Ooofff! What the bloody hell, hey you dozy muff saddle, watch where you're … oh damn it's Miss Warm Sunshine. You know you want to hit that, can't you smell her, she is gagging for it. Seriously, man up, she's just playing hard to get, does it matter she reminds you of Miss Queen Bitch? You cannot leave her on her butt on the floor; help the lady up, damn it.
This is master brain calling big brain, help the lady up!
“Sorry I didn't see you there.”
What are you being sorry for, she's the bloody idiot that walked into you, did you not notice her head in the clouds when she rammed us in the bloody back?
“It’s okay, I had my head down for a moment and didn’t see you there. I’m sorry also.”
See, she even admits it. Okay, she's getting inside the zone now, wake the fuck up. Oh come on, you had to notice that, she just sniffed us! Who does that? No normal person does that.
“Are you going to be okay if I let go?”
Seriously, you're trotting out the charm and the ice, what the hell is wrong with you, dude, you're acting like a freaking frat boy. This is Miss Warm Sunshine, damn it, not a typing pool tart. Wise up.
She just sniffed us, bro, and you're asking if she’s okay enough to let go? Even her own muff is screaming at her to get you to let go and walk away. What is going on, are you even listening here?
“I’ll be quite fine, thank you.”
Finally someone with some common sense in this stand-off.
“Yeah, we are walking away! You go girl, you show him who can be cold. You can now call us Ice Queen, we will not fall under your spell of muscled arms and sexy as fuck aftershave again!”
“Yeah keep telling yourself that, baby.”
“Oh I will, because a nice smell doesn’t mean a nice guy. My girl’s too good for him and he knows it.”
“So much for what you know. A smell says a lot about a guy.”
“Oh you’re right, your smell is saying a lot about you right now. Have a nice day, stinky.”
“Wait! What? I just got out of the shower only an hour ago. I don’t stink!”
Saucy lips that one, telling me I stink, she's the one who was bloody dribbling all over the place, telling me I stink and she damned well knows my boy ain't so easy to walk over. Did she not see her girl sniff us? I mean come on, she snorted on his collar more than a coke addict at Christmas. He's going to thaw her faster than a hair dryer on an ice cube, and by the time we're done she's going to be little more than another notch on his belt, even if she is Miss Warm Sunshine.
Right, now what? Oh right, work, yay. That means I get to sit tucked next to your thigh all day sweating like a hog in a sauna. The least you could do is undo your belt and pants when you sit down. I mean it’s not as if anyone else is in your office, unless you count me, but I doubt you do.
I guess I’ll just sit here, sweating away. Hidden inside some silk boxers until you either need a piss, a wank, or we head out with the lads tonight. I swear mate, sometimes being attached to you is a pain in the freaking arse.
Oh great, now someone is knocking, let’s see what door number one gives us today. It’s probably Viv with your coffee.
“Sir, I have your coffee, are you ready for it or are you still going through paperwork?”
Told you, every day like clockwork, don’t you get tired of the routine?
“Thank you Vivian, just leave it on the coaster here, then can you please hold my calls until I’m done here? I’ll buzz through once I’m ready to receive any.”
Well that shuts me up. Guess you’re all set on your routine. Okay, might as well make myself comfortable, this is going to be a long day.
Okay, we need a drink, are we heading straight to the bar or home first? If we’re going straight there can you at least go to the loo first, I really need some air. Being stuck against your thigh all day ain’t as fun as it sounds. Although I don’t doubt several of the bimbos around here would love a chance to be stuck on you and me all day.
So you made up your mind yet, dude? We heading straight out to get shit faced, it is Friday after all, or we heading home for the three S’s before hitting the bars with the boys?
I need to know. So come on, tell me what we’re doing. Oh, okay, answer the phone, just ignore me. And people say I’m a dick.
“Benji, hey mate how’s it going? Oh, yeah, not too bad. Paperwork and the usual bull, you know how it goes. You heading out tonight? Cool, me, no I’m heading home first, need a shower and that. This place may have A/C but it gets hot as hell when the sun hits the window. Yeah mate, later days.”
Well that settles that, though an answer would have been nice. So are we going or aren’t we? Oh good, you’re actually getting up, come on then, let’s get home, it’s hot as hell in here. Okay you got everything, we ain’t gotta come back for anything, no calls to make at the last minute, no paperwork to sort out?
Good. Let’s go.
Oh for fuck sakes! Who’s this now? Oh great, Viv again, probably just sneaking in to fawn all over you as per usual. Bloody woman just can’t take a hint, and the odour that comes off her, sheesh, smells like a cat crawled up there and died. Ugh.
“Okay Mr. Anderson, is there anything you need before I head home?”
Well that was an open ended invite. Hell, her body language says miles more than her words and count yourself lucky you’re not me at the moment mate, she is oozing fuck me juice. Seriously, if you had a funnel you could bottle the crap, she’s giving off so much.
“No Vivian, thank you, I’m just leaving myself so just lock up once I’m gone.”
Thank God we’re out of there; she really gives me the creeps at times. It’s not what she says, or the way her muff squeaks whenever it gets a whiff of us, it’s just the way I can feel her staring at us. A kind of ‘I want to chain you up in my basement’ kind of stare, there’s not a patch of it that shows anything other than Annie Wilkes level of creepiness. Remind me again why they keep her around? Oh that’s right, you can’t file worth a shit. You really need to learn how to file.
Okay, to the pub!
Someone is already pumping the tunes out here, are we really hitting a club first? Well sure, if you really want to listen to some dodgy techno rip off and drink watered down lager, then by all means head on in, but I’m not raising my head for anything in here, sod that for a game of soldiers. Bloody hell it reeks in here, it’s all hormones and sex sweat. How old are some of these people? Oh hell no, she can’t be more than eighteen, put your eyes back in your head, mate, I’m going nowhere near that. She may look hot, but seriously, do you want that on your hit list? She probably still listens to Bieber for crying out loud.
Oi, watch where you’re going, bloody Uni kids are pissed as farts and twice as stupid. Come on dude, let’s get out of here. The boys ain’t here and we need to get to some place where there’s an ounce of intelligence attached to something older than twenty-one. That bar there seems like a good place, so let’s find the boys and get some grog in. Benji and Booker should be around here somewhere, come on, go find them, I need to find out if they did better than your dumb ass last time we were on the prowl.
“Oi, Lane ass.”
Yes! Booker’s here, finally get a chance to find out if he copped one with that chick from his office.
“Bookend, took you long enough, I was starting to think I’d be partying with the kids again. What the fuck took you so long?”
“Like you’d mind that, some of those sheilas are pretty loose when you get a few in ‘em.”
Yeah, don’t encourage that again, dipshit, you know what happened last time, bloody moron ended up with a black eye and almost got arrested because of you.
“Shut the fuck up, you still owe me from last time. Where’s Benji?”
“Oh you mean Mr. I need to finish the filing before I can leave? He’s on his way in. I was going to catch a ride in with him, but the dipshit was taking too long. Besides, I kne
w you’d be lonely without me.”
“Oh will you shut up, bloke talks more shit than a bloody u-bend,” I said.
“You’re telling me, try being stuck in his jocks all day, crustier than a week old slice of pizza, he hasn’t changed them in three days.”
Man, I feel sorry for Booker’s junk.
“Damn mate, I thought Lane’s were bad after an all-nighter, but Christ, that’s gotta suck. So you’re telling me he’s still rolling around in the set he went home in with that chick from last time?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck, that’s gotta suck.”
“Eh, you get used to it, although I do have a bit of a sore head from all the chafing, but nothing I ain’t used to. The hook up was worth it though; I dropped more bombs on that one than the opening minutes of Wind Talkers.”
“Nice, that sheila that we went home with, well, let’s just not go there.”
“I get ya. Booker wasn’t too impressed with your man’s catch that time and she wasn’t exactly the uh … cream of the crop.”
“You’re telling me. I swear I couldn’t wait to be out of there, it was like being trapped inside a sweaty sock and you and I both remember these idiots at Uni.”
Thinking of Uni, I wonder what these two are still yammering on about. They should be head deep in lager and shots by now. Oh yeah, that’s right, their stupid bro code, all for one and one for all, blah, blah, blah, never leave a bro behind blah, blah. Typical chest pounding crap. God it’s nauseating at times, and with all the drama that has caused these two, I’m surprised they still keep up with it. Some things just never die, I suppose, no matter how many times certain members shoot the code in the back of the head.
“Well it doesn’t look like Benji is going to show up, he’s probably balls deep in that piece of ass he’s been after for the past month, it’s some new girl a few cubes down from him. Pretty hot, but has this really odd quirk in her voice, if you combined Elvira and Velma from Scooby Doo, you’d be in the right ball park.” Booker’s always referencing freaking cartoons.
Well that was … disturbing. I guess people all have their preferences. I really wouldn’t want to be attached to Benji right now. It’s bad enough being Lane’s thunder cannon with all the crap decisions he’s made since Miss Queen Bitch tore him apart. But forget that for now, we need to get drunk and I need to meet some yummy muff.
“So, how do you reckon these two chuckle heads are going to play it tonight? I’m betting on Booker being a fight promoter and Lane being an up and coming boxer.” Lane would so pick up more if he really was a fighter. Maybe we should hit the gym more often.
“Ha, Lane a boxer, that’ll be the day. With how Booker has been lately I think they may go for the white knight routine, with Lane playing the arsehole and Booker swooping in to save the day. Then switch half way through.”
“We’ll see.”
“Okay, bro, what one we hitting first? There’s P.J. O’Brien’s or we jump the river and hit Young and Jacksons, although The Duke’s always a good choice. Depends on if we’re hunting for some pussy or just out to get hammered and wake up cross eyed.”
Well, it looks like Booker is an easy gamer. Why can’t Lane be like that, just pick some random places to either get pissed or hunt out a tasty piece of muff for me to get lost in? It’s not as if he has a missus at home to be worrying about, all he has to do is make sure he isn’t all devil eyed when he shows up for work. Then again, when he drinks too much, it’s always like I’m firing battery acid the next day, all hot and greasy. Ugh, never can figure out why it does that to me, although Mr. Coffee Guzzler does stick to the spirits unlike his two brainless amigos.
“Mate, I don’t give a shit where we go as long as I get either of two options, laid or wasted, either is preferable to how this week has been.”
“Pissed and a good shag it is then, let’s do this,” Booker said.
Okay, let’s see what goes down, shall we? Hopefully it’ll be some cheeky bit with a mouth like a hoover, those always feel good.
“Hey, you up?” I know I’m not alone, but I’m confused as to why Booker is apparently in the same bed as us.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You remember what happened last night?” Please say yes, please say yes.
“No not really, although I am half gloved and smell like an old tuna can, so it was something fun.”
“Ha, me too, so we know there was at least some muff involved.” Thank fuck!
“Who you calling a muff? I’m a fucking lady, dickhead, and you two owe me big time. It’s been a long time since my girl has handled two guys in a row.”
Oh God, we shared one. Fuck, Lane, bro, what the fuck happened? We have never gone that hard on the booze before that we ended up sharing one. Although it is a notch on his belt, and more the merrier in my opinion, I know how bad he is going to feel when he finally wakes up; poor fucker’s going to hate himself.
“I have never been this sore or stuffed in my life. You two aren’t exactly the little woodies my girl is used to.”
“Ha, just goes to show this is what you get when you come south of the Yarra.” Booker and his junk can be such snobs sometimes.
“Yeah, yeah, keep blowing your own horn, big boy, although I’ll give credit where it’s due, you two can satisfy a girl. I can’t say the same for your fella; he conked out after two rounds up the spout.”
“Ha! Benji is going to hate himself for that one, you really need to get him to do some stress training mate, you’re letting the side down. Talking of which, it looks like my boy’s waking up. I’ll chat to you two in a bit, we’ve got a morning constitutional to take care of.” I’m about to fucking burst!
“What’s he on about?”
“He needs a piss.”
“Oh.”
Staring at a toilet bowl ain’t exactly a good way to start a day. I’m just hoping my boy can aim this time. Last time we did this he missed the mark by miles and really cheesed off his mate. Well, I say did this, taking a piss with a hangover is never an easy thing to do, and coupled with the thoughts no doubt rolling around in his head, if he has even realised yet exactly what he has done, well, it’s enough to throw off anyone’s aim.
Oh, here we go, let’s see what my boy has to say for himself.
“What the hell happened? Oh Christ no, please tell me we didn’t go there, ugh, how much did I drink to think that was a good idea? And with Booker, oh fucking hell!”
Afraid so bro, you went for the three way and I, personally, have zero, count them, zero regrets, although I doubt I can say the same for you. Yeah, you sound pissed at yourself more than the situation, although this chick ain’t half bad. Tight arse and cans, a bit shorter than our usual take away date, but not too bad all in all. Then again, I bet Booker picked her out didn’t he, he always has preferred the shorter woman. What was it he called them? Oh yeah, that’s right, travel sized.
“Booker, you fuck nugget, wake up. What the hell did we get into last night?”
“Huh, wah? Oh shit yeah, figured you’d forget, you were drinking like a freaking fish last night. That’s Erin by the way, she was all over you, that was until I slipped out the tickler.”
“Ha, ha, ha, tickler, he calls you the Tickler.”
“Yeah laugh it up, Love Gun.” Yep, Booker’s original, alright.
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah, I know yours as well, so keep it to yourself or I’ll tell Benji’s boy when we see him next.”
“Yeah, Love Gun.” Cheeky girl.
“You can shut up too, Twinkle Cavern, your girl wasn’t exactly quiet when screaming out about having two snakes creep around her fairy cave. What exactly goes on in that head of hers?”
A fantasy about having a threesome apparently. Nothing wrong with a kinky chick.
“You know what bro, I don’t wanna know, I needed to vent and I did, just text me the story later. I’m gonna bounce, catch ya.”
Oh great, I can
see it now, a weekend spent watching old Van Damme and Schwarzenegger films, while wallowing in self-pity. We really need to hook you up with a new woman and I swear Miss Warm Sunshine would be all over you if you gave her the time of day. But no, you’re being a freaking pansy about it all. Ah shit, let’s just get this over with, maybe I can get a stress wank out of you later, to at least get some endorphins through that depressed mind of yours. You’re freaking tiring when you’re like this.
What a boring weekend. After having to ditch early Friday night, not wanting to bump into Mr. Oh la la, who, by the way, apparently turned out to be not as well hung as Zali was hoping the French man would be, but still so freaking awesome at oral it kind of made up for it, all we did was a little work from home and cleaned. It was kind of lonely. Apart from guy fishing, which has been mostly on Friday nights, we have been getting more and more … well … lonely.
Maybe we need to get a pet. Yeah, maybe a cat. Oh, but we would have to hide it when the girls came over, because there is no freaking way we would risk being labelled into the lonely old cat lady zone at the tender young age of twenty-nine. If we got a pussy companion, we would never live it down. Ha, pussy companion! Isn’t that what married men call a mistress? Yeah, I crack me up some times.
It’s fun going out with the girls, but when we come home here, to our apartment, and it’s just us, we get sad feelings sometimes, more than ever lately. It would be nice to come home to a man, a boyfriend or partner, someone who would do the cooking occasionally, or surprise us after a long day at work and have the bath already run. Someone who would bring our feet onto his lap and massage the stress of the day away. And someone who knows exactly when we need to be whisked away, from the smog and noise of the city, to our dream beach cottage where we can just be us.
Mmm. One day. Maybe. Oh please maybe.
Thank God we decide to walk to work today. It’s a beautiful morning and the rays of the warm sunshine and the crisp morning air is helping to clear my girl’s head. It’s better than trying to clear it with sweet vodka drinks. Just as our work building comes into sight, so does the sight of the man standing at the waterfront opposite our building. Is it a coincidence that he has been there every morning right at this time for the past three weeks?