Grace pointed to the table. ‘Have a seat. I baked some eggplant parmigiana.’
Grace took a large container from the fridge, scooped a pile of food onto a plastic dish and placed it in the microwave. When it pinged she served up two platefuls with rice and crispy bread and butter. Les had a mouthful and nearly fainted. The eggplant was cooked to perfection in a beautiful tomato and onion sauce, and over the top was a layer of lightly baked cheese with more bite than an alligator. Les had another mouthful and looked at Grace.
‘Grace,’ he said. ‘This is absolutely sensational. I’ve never tasted anything like it.’
‘Amazing’s not a bad cook on her day,’ said Grace. ‘But it makes a difference if the eggplants are fresh. And I get a special cheese in Tilba.’
‘It’s delicious,’ said Les, stuffing some more into his mouth, along with a lump of bread.
They finished with coffee, Grace placed what was left back in the fridge then put the dishes in the sink and turned to Les.
‘Have you had enough to eat?’
Les patted his stomach. ‘Plenty.’
‘Okay. Come inside, and we’ll have a look at your back.’
‘You want me to get my gear off?’ said Les. ‘I got Speedos on.’
‘Okay,’ replied Grace.
Les followed Grace into the lounge and got down to his blue Speedos. Grace rolled the fitness ball over and told Les to sit on it with his hands resting on the back of the lounge and facing away from her. Les had seen these big rubber balls, but had never used one. He did as he was told and as soon as he sat on it he could feel his spine straighten and his stomach muscles contract.
‘Hey, these are all right,’ said Les, bouncing lightly up and down.
‘Didn’t your physiotherapist put you on one of these?’ asked Grace.
‘No. All I got was ultrasound.’
Grace ran her eyes over Les. ‘You’re in pretty good shape, aren’t you.’
‘I train a lot with a mate who used to be a top middleweight fighter.’ said Les.
‘What about you, Les. Can you fight?’
‘I can handle myself a bit,’ shrugged Les.
‘So I believe.’ Grace smiled at Les and put her hand on his back. ‘Are you a gangster, Les?’
Les smiled up at Grace. ‘No. But some of my best friends are.’
‘Yeah, right. So where is it sore?’
‘Just above my kidneys.’
Grace ran her hand along Norton’s spine. ‘Yes. I can feel the swelling. Does this hurt?’ Grace pushed her knuckle into Norton’s vertabrae.
‘Ow!’ winced Les. ‘Does it what.’
‘Okay.’ Grace walked over to a cabinet and came back with a small bottle. ‘You know what this is, Les?’
Norton had a look and shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Hemp seed oil. It’s the best massage oil there is.’
‘If you say so, Grace,’ said Les.
Grace tipped a little on her hand and rubbed it into Les’s back. Gently at first then a little firmer. ‘How does that feel?’ she asked.
‘Unreal,’ said Les, rocking gently on the rubber ball.
Grace stopped and rubbed some oil on her right knee then got a footrest. She placed her foot on it, put her hands on Les’s shoulders and pushed her knee against his spine. ‘Okay Les,’ she said. ‘Start bouncing up and down on the ball. Not too fast. Just nice and steady.’
Les did as Grace instructed. It hurt a little at first, then the pain eased. After a while, Grace’s knee in his back began to feel good.
‘Ohh yeah,’ said Les, closing his eyes. ‘That feels unreal.’
‘I told you I could help you,’ said Grace. ‘Your spine’s sitting straight, and the sore point’s getting massaged at the same time.’
Les kept slowly rocking up and down. ‘Whatever it is, it’s certainly working.’
‘Good. How about we listen to some music?’
Grace walked over to the stereo, put a CD on, then returned to the rubber ball and pushed her knee back into Norton’s spine. Les started bouncing up and down again and some good rock ’n’ roll drifted over.
‘Hey, this is all right,’ said Les. ‘Who is it?’
‘Jools Holland’s Big Band Rhythm and Blues. I ordered it from Sydney.’
Grace pulled Les back against her knee as he gently bounced up and down to the music. It was so relaxing, Les kept drifting off; he lost all track of time. Another track finished, Grace took her knee away and pushed her knuckles into Norton’s back. She massaged his spine for a while then gave Norton’s neck and shoulders a rub before she finally stopped.
‘There you go,’ said Grace. ‘How do you feel now?’
Les opened his eyes, blinked and arched his back. ‘That’s unreal,’ he said. Les turned around on the ball and looked at Grace. ‘The sharp pain’s nowhere near as bad as it was. I just feel kind of stiff.’
‘That’s understandable. You’ve just had a really deep massage.’ Grace went to the kitchen and came back with the jar of water. She shook it up, unscrewed the lid and handed it to Les. ‘Here. Drink this.’
Les gulped it down easily, sediment and all. ‘Thanks,’ he said, and handed Grace the empty jar.
‘That will get your system used to it. Too much can make you upset in the tummy, if you’ve never had it before. But the two bottles — I want you to drink one when you get up tomorrow morning, and the other one before you go to bed Sunday night. You got that — George?’
‘No worries,’ smiled Les.
Grace put the jar back on the coffee table then stood in front of Les and smiled down at him. ‘And by Monday afternoon, you should be fighting fit.’
‘Are you going to come down and cheer me on?’ asked Les.
Grace shook her head. ‘No. I’d like to see Morgan Scully get what’s coming to him. But I wouldn’t like to see you get hurt.’
Les smiled softly up at Grace and leant back against the lounge. ‘Grace. Come here,’ he said.
Les took Grace’s hand and drew her down onto the rubber ball. She spread her legs, sat on Norton’s knees and placed her hands on his shoulders. As she did, her skirt rose and Les glimpsed a pair of very lacy, white knickers. He put his hands on Grace’s ribs and they started slowly rocking around on the ball.
‘What are you doing, Les?’ asked Grace.
‘Nothing,’ answered Les. ‘Just seeing if you can straighten two spines at once. That’s all.’
‘Ohh yeah.’
Les kept rocking away against Grace in time to the music. Whether it was the sudden infusion of minerals, or Grace’s sensational melons moving up and down in front of his nose, Les wasn’t sure. But suddenly Mr Wobbly had eaten a can of spinach and turned into Popeye the sailor man. Grace felt it as Les kept rocking steadily away.
Grace looked directly into Norton’s shining, brown eyes. ‘You’re a bit of bastard. Aren’t you, Les?’
‘That’s not very nice, Grace.’
‘It’s true though.’
‘No. Not really. It’s just that I keep meeting people who bring the bastard out in me.’
‘Do they now?’ said Grace.
Les looked directly back into Grace’s lovely hazel eyes. ‘Do they what.’
Les kissed Grace’s lips and Grace kissed him back. It wasn’t long before the kissing got very passionate as they rocked up and down on the fitness ball. Les felt the tip of Graces’s tongue like a whiplash and slipped his hands under her shirt. He ran them gently over her back, then unbuttoned her shirt. A moment later, Grace’s magnificent, unfettered melons were out in the open. Mr Wobbly started tossing his head around and thumping his chest.
Grace stopped kissing Les and looked into his eyes. ‘Les,’ she said quietly.
‘Yes Grace,’ replied Norton, knowing it was all too good to be true, and he would have to put his toys away.
‘Rub some oil into my boobs.’ Grace took her shirt off, dropped it on the floor then reached down and got the bottle of hemp seed oil.
‘Can you do that, Les?’ she smiled, tipping a little into Norton’s hand.
‘I’ll … manage somehow,’ said Norton.
Les rubbed the oil into his hands then placed one on each of Grace’s melons. Grace closed her eyes and rocked slowly up and down on Norton’s lap as Les started smoothly massaging. Sideways, up and down. Around in circles. Tenderly squeezing her nipples till they firmed and stuck out like big, pink arrowheads. Les massaged away, scarcely able to believe how firm Grace’s boobs were for their size. And they were the absolute real deal as well. Mr Wobbly, meanwhile, could believe. He started howling and screaming and trying to rip his way out of Norton’s Speedos. Grace arched her back, rubbed herself against Les and sighed. Les watched her pigtails swaying from side to side and leant forward and kissed her. Grace kissed Les back and soon the kissing went from passionate, to steamy delicious.
Grace chewed Norton’s bottom lip then slipped her tongue in his ear. Les winced as he felt Grace’s hot breath and kissed the tenderness of her neck. He kissed her eyes then ran his hand up and down her spine and over the firmness of her stomach, before slipping his hand between Grace’s legs. Grace crushed her mouth onto Norton’s as he stroked the beautiful, wet tenderness of her ted. Finally, Les lifted Grace to her feet, stood in front of her and eased her knickers off. He turned her around and sat her back down on the fitness ball facing him. Grace took hold of the lounge behind her as Les spread her legs apart, then he got to his knees and pushed his face into her ted.
Grace moaned and writhed on the fitness ball, gripped the back of the lounge and kicked her legs as Les slid his tongue inside her and sucked tenderly. He squeezed her behind and rolled his head around in unison with the bouncing ball pushing his face hard against her as Grace moaned and licked her lips with delight. Les went for it, flicking his tongue around like a rattlesnake and before too long Grace gave a long squeal of ecstasy and got her rocks off. Les came up for air, picked a few pubic hairs out of his mouth and got into it again.
Naturally, Les was soon filled with lust and yearning desire. But Mr Wobbly had become possessed. The werewolf had completely taken over and he was foaming at the mouth, howling his angry little head off, wanting to play hidings. Les fought the beast as long as he could before his willpower collapsed and he was forced let Mr Wobbly have his evil way.
Les stood up, helped Grace to her feet then got out of his Speedos. He sat back down on the ball and made himself comfortable, then drew Grace towards him. Grace spread her legs as Les held her backside then she laced her hands behind Norton’s neck and straddled him.
Les pushed himself in and the warmth and firmness of Grace made him shudder. Grace groaned and came down, then she brought her knees up and it didn’t take long to get a steady rhythm going, up and down on the fitness ball. Every so often Les would lean back, Grace would come down, and he’d go in deeper.
‘Ohh. You know what that … feels like, Les,’ said Grace.
‘No,’ panted Les. ‘What Grace?’
‘Like … one of those stalls … at the show. Where you … hit the stump with a mallet. And see how … high you can go.’
‘How am I goin’?’
‘Ohh. Every now and again … you hit the top. Ohh yeah, like that. Oh fuck!’
With Grace clinging to him, Les relaxed and bounced away into the evening. The pain in his back was bearable and Grace and the ball were doing all the work; Les felt he could go all night. Grace’s pigtails were whirling like the blades on a helicopter, and from the expression on her face it looked like she hoped he would. She hooked her ankles up over Norton’s shoulders, Les went in deeper and the ball went faster. Then Les felt the urge engulfing his body; building up inside him like a volcano. Grace started to howl, Les screwed his face up and sweat trickled down his back. Then it was all systems go. Les had ignition, he had lift off. He jammed his eyes shut and blasted off into the galaxy.
‘Ohh shit! Ohh Christ! Aarrgghhhh!’
‘Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh! Oh! Owwhhhh!’
Finally the ball stopped bouncing and Grace stopped trying to choke Les. Les stopped trying to rip Grace’s backside off and Morticia stopped barking at the front door. Les blinked his eyes open and stared at Grace. Grace stared back at Les.
‘I have to go to the bathroom.’
Norton’s chest was heaving. ‘Okay.’
Grace stood up and left. Les got to his feet and climbed unsteadily into his Speedos then flopped on the lounge. The last track on the Jools Holland CD cut out as Grace sat down alongside him wearing a yellow shower robe with a fluffy white towel over her shoulder. In her hands were two bottles of sparkling mineral water. She handed one to Les.
‘Just what I need,’ said Les. ‘Thanks.’
Les gulped down half the bottle, Grace drank some of hers and started wiping Norton’s shoulders.
‘Your soaking,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘I hope I haven’t messed up your lounge.’
‘That’s okay. How’s your back feel?’
‘All right, I think.’ Les winked at Grace. ‘The rubber ball worked splendidly.’
Grace smiled back at Les over her bottle of water. ‘That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’
‘No,’ said Les. ‘Amazing what they can do though.’ Les gave Grace’s leg a gentle squeeze. ‘Any chance of putting that CD on again Grace? I missed the last tracks.’
‘I wonder how that happened?’
Grace put the same CD on again and they sat on the lounge with their bottles of mineral water listening to Jools Holland. Grace had a good stereo and Les was thoroughly enjoying it. He settled down and Grace rested her head against his shoulder. Les massaged Grace’s scalp and, as she relaxed, one of her oil-glistening melons slipped out from under her robe. Les spotted it about the same time as Mr Wobbly. Next thing, the werewolf took over again and Mr Wobbly started climbing out of Norton’s Speedos, angrier than ever.
‘Hello,’ said Les. ‘I think there’s some one here wants to see you, Grace.’
Grace looked down at Norton’s throbbing boner. ‘You just behave yourself, Mr Norton,’ she said. ‘Or you’re going to hurt your back.’
‘Not on the magic ball I won’t.’
‘Maybe. But aunty Grace is a little sore.’
‘Oh. Oh well,’ said Les. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
Grace smiled at Les with a strange glint in her eye. ‘Doesn’t it?’
Grace slipped Norton’s dick out of his Speedos, dipped her head and proceeded to give him a spanking blow job. Les didn’t know what hit him as Grace sucked and licked and gently squeezed his balls, while she sighed with delight. Before Les knew it, sweat formed on his brow, his face began to twist out of shape and, feeling like he was going to have a heart attack, Les collapsed back onto the lounge; groaning again, he got his rocks off.
Grace had a drink of water and gave Norton a minute or two. ‘So how was that, Les?’ she asked.
Norton was laying back on the lounge with tears in his eyes. ‘Ohh. Ohhh shit!’ he mumbled.
‘Well, if that’s all you’ve got to say — bugger you.’ Grace started hauling Les off the lounge. ‘Come on. If we’re going to the Blues Festival tonight. You’d better go home and get ready.’
‘Okay,’ said Les, stumbling back into his shorts. ‘So what’s doing? Do you want to come with me this time, and I’ll drive you home in the morning?’
‘No. I’ll have a shower. And meet you at the house in about an hour. I’ll stay at Belinda’s again.’
‘Okay.’
Les put his T-shirt on, Grace put the two bottles of mineral water in his overnight bag, gave him the instructions again, then walked him to the door. Les gave her a quick kiss goodbye, patted Morticia on her massive head and walked to his car. It felt a bit nippy out in the hills now, so he put his sweatshirt on before getting behind the wheel. He tooted the horn and drove off.
Apart from a few people in the hotel, it was all over as Les drove through Tilba. He hung a
left at the war memorial towards the turnoff. When he got there, Les caught a glimpse of the ocean in the distance and noticed the sky was full of clouds and the southerly had picked up. It didn’t appear as if it was going to rain. But the weather had definitely changed. He slipped a tape on then swung left and headed for Narooma. As Red Rivers started thumping out ‘Baby Blue Buick’, Les started thinking. What started off as a rotten day had turned out gravy. He’d been sucked and fucked. Fed beautiful food. Given a fantastic massage. And with a bit of luck Grace’s special mineral water might fix his back.
There was a break in the clouds and the moon appeared for a few moments. Les looked up at the sky and grinned. You like me boss, don’t you. Despite all the shit you lay on me. And the pain and suffering you put me through. Underneath, you like me. Come on. Admit it. As he cruised along something else occurred to Les. He felt he’d made a friend in Grace, and he remembered saying to her that if she helped him, he promised her she’d never regret it. Les smiled and stroked his chin. Besides the gigantic mumble on the grumble he gave her, there could be another, even nicer way to return the favour.
There were people and cars around as Les drove through Narooma. When he pulled up at the house, Warren had parked his car against the front door. The key was under the mat; Les opened the door and stepped inside. Ray Anthony and his Orchestra were hitting ‘In The Mood’ in the loungeroom and Warren and Clover were in the kitchen hitting the sauce. By the smell, they hadn’t long finished a hot one. Warren was wearing black jeans, a blue check shirt and his leather jacket. Clover had on a red cap, a tiger-striped top under a red cardigan that went past her knees, jeans, and cherry red Doc Martens.
They were very cuddly and by the looks on both their faces, Les surmised they’d made good use of the empty house while he was away.
‘Righto,’ said Les. ‘Who owns the bloody yellow Celica out the front? You couldn’t park it any closer to the front door could you.’
Clover narrowed her eyes at Norton. ‘Don’t get too cheeky big fellah,’ she said. ‘Remember your bad back. I might just jump up and sit you right on your arse.’ Clover then had an attack of the giggles and spilt her drink.
Mystery Bay Blues Page 13