The man came over. He was short and bald, with beads of sweat forming on his pate. It was a stifling, muggy evening in the pub garden. He had been eyeing us up for a few minutes and I had smiled. Now that he had come over I wasn’t sure that had been a good idea.
“I was going to ask, you know, ask if you two ladies are like, you know, like…”
“You mean, are we lesbians?” said Wendy, reading his rather transparent thoughts.
“Yes” he said, forcing a smile.
“No we’re not. We’re just good friends.”
“Oh,” he said, not hiding his disappointment. “But would you be up for a threesome?”
We said nothing, inviting him to carry on.
“I’ve got a hotel room, a nice one.”
“And where might that be?” I asked coquettishly, imagining a room with a jacuzzi in the posh place by the cathedral.
“It’s that place by the station.”
I took the fat cigar out of his hand, put it in my mouth, and took a long drag.
“The budget place?” I exhaled, directing the smoke only slightly to the side of his face. “You do know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you love? Or two girls even…”
Wendy interjected, “You can have us both for an hour for three hundred pounds.”
He took the fat cigar from me, sucking on it, thought for what seemed an age and said, “Sorry ladies, I can’t afford that.”
“That’s the price, darling,” replied Wendy, “and we are worth every penny.”
“Too much for me, sorry ladies.”
He stubbed out the cigar, finished his pint and left.
“Well, thanks for trying to sell me into prostitution, Wend!”
“I meant it, Julia. It’s easy money, take his cash, give him a quick blow job and leg it.”
“But that place by the station? I’d be worried about the fleas!”
We both laughed.
On the...
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Read all about the wonderful author: Eve Ray
