Christmas Gin 2

Part One of this story is here.

Haad Rin was full to bursting with the Christmas crowd: groups of twenty-somethings dressed in Santa hats, drunk and covered in typical tattoos under their Singha wifebeaters. A Gordian Knot of Israelis were blocking the way to the shop, playing acousitic guitar and singing in Hebrew at the tops of their voices. I cut through as best as I could, grabbed some beers at the 7-11 and made my way back up to the hotel we were staying at.

At the back of the reception building, I heard a woman’s voice calling out, “Hey!”

“Hi,” I said. “How’s it going? Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, it’s all so merry right now,” she said, stepping out of the shadows.

She was in her late twenties and quite attractive despite the fact she seemed mildly deranged.

“You staying here?” I asked.

“Staying? I’m all – whoosh!” Here, she made a motion to show her head had expanded (or possibly just her brains had exploded).

“Are you all right?” I said.

“Wow, oh wow. I’m like, oh ho,” she said.

“Do you know where your room is?” I asked. I was actually a bit concerned for her. She seemed a bit befuddled.

“Yes, come on,” she said grabbing me by the arm.

The way to her room went past the rooms that Orange and I were sleeping in. Orange was outside, smoking a cigarette.

“Oy oy, Rick’s pulled. Hello darlin!”

“Just wow,” she said. “You can come too!”

She grabbed Orange also and dragged the pair of us past the swimming pool and to the back of the hotel complex.

Opening her door, she said, “I am sharing so we need to be quiet.”

It was a twin room with a sleeping form on the other bed.

A beer turned inevitably to us asking her to get her pussy out. This she happily did, spread-eagling her legs and saying, “There. So do you like my pussy or not?”

We both agreed it was a nice pussy.

“You can stick your finger in it if you like,” she said. She was Dutch. I bet this kind of thing happens all the time in her country.

Orange and I both laughed at what was a fairly surreal turn of events. But still we took turns to do as she asked.

Our laughter, however, had woken up the other occupant.

“What is all this noise?” the other woman groggily asked, hefting herself on her side to see. “What are you two men doing with my daughter?”

“Oh Mama, you are awake. I just asked these two guys to come play with my pussy.”

Her mother’s first reaction was revulsion, which quickly gave way to something more lustful. “It is not fair,” she said. “You have two boys and I have nobody. One of you,” she addressed Orange and myself, “Come over here. Come play with Mama’s pussy.”

Orange and I laughed at each other.

“Go on then, my son,” said Orange. “Go play with Mama’s pussy.”

“No, I’m enjoying playing with this pussy,” I said. “It’s nice and tight.”

“Play with Mama’s pussy!” demanded Mama. “Make Mama nice and wet!”

Had I not decided to try take a photo of the scene at that moment, who knows what might have happened. As it was, Mama suddenly shot out of bed, shouting, “Do not take a photo of my daughter’s pussy! I know about men like you!”

“Oh Mama, relax,” said her daughter.

“No, I will not relax! These men are pornographers- they will upload your lady bits for all the world to see!”

“Right, fuck this- I’m off,” said Orange. He fucked off.

“And you go also!” she said.

Her daughter whispered I should stay, so when Mama went to the bathroom, I merely hid under her daughter’s bed.

Mama grunted something in Dutch when she returned and her daughter replied in English, “He is gone also, Mama. I swear.”

Satisfied with this she lay down again.

At this her daughter signalled I should get onto the bed with her. Under the sheets, she started sucking me off until Mama, suspicious of the slurping sounds, switched on the light with an “Ah hah!” picked up a vase and threatened to throw it at my head.

I made my excuses and left.

(Continues here)

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