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Done And Dusted

Posted on February 20, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

“Why the hell did you do that?” she screamed.

I didn’t immediately know what to say. I was just responding to the moment. She ran over and squatted by the result of my ‘that’ and asked him if he was okay. He was spitting blood onto the street and tugging at his teeth. He was clearly not okay and his frown at her said as much. She glared at me with one arm on his shoulder. It was her ‘look what you’ve done now’ glare. I was immune to it. The guy on the other hand was not immune to the slope of her chest as it hung at eye level. She could feel him calm down under her grip on his shoulder. She looked at him and smiled.

“He didn’t mean anything really.”

“What, he punched me by accident?”

My fingers didn’t like the belligerence in his tone so they curled up into a fist. I wasn’t angry, yet. I was watching the scene unfold. Even though it was dark and the lights on the street were doing little more than illuminating the puddles by the kerb I could tell that he was having trouble. Taking his eyes off my girlfriend’s breasts that is. I had the solution for that kind of trouble but I had been told, repeatedly, that it was a free country and a fellow could look at whatever he wanted to and even form rosy little pictures in his head. I only got to judge a person for his actions. My man on the ground was still too shaken from our last interaction to act upon any instincts that might have been awakened by his proximity to my woman’s charms.

She called them lucky, I didn’t always disagree. I liked to call them Sunayna and Amrita but that was just me being an ass. Her grip on his shoulder eased and she rubbed the back of his shoulder lightly. She asked him if he would like to try standing up. He nodded.

This was it. The opportunity for the move.

She leaned in, gave him her shoulder and he was quick to put his arm around. She took the arm and straightened her knees affording him a tantalizing view into Paradise Valley. And just like that, there it was. The palming of her breast under the pretext of trying to stand. I let it go the first time. The first one could be a mistake. The second, third and fourth however indicated that he liked what he felt and if she was willing he’d like to do much more.

“”What do you think you’re doing?”

He had that expression fellows like him like to tuck into the front pocket of their sports jackets. It’s that eyes wide open, ‘don’t know what you’re talking about mate, I’m just trying to stand up here’ expression, even as he continued to float his left palm over unacceptable parts of my woman’s form. That’s when she noticed that his fingers seemed to be curling around Amrita.

“Hey!”

He favoured her with the aforementioned look. She tossed his hand off and stepped away, came to stand by my side. It was suddenly two against one and one of the two had an accusing look in her eyes.

He was one of those British imports, or rather a re-import. Born here, went there, got an accent and better clothes and came back here to try and make it as a model or actor or something because nobody gives a shit about brown thugs in the Queen’s country unless they need someone to play a corner shop owner or airport worker.

“I guess the first one didn’t quite get the message across hunh ‘mate’?”

“Come on, this is ridiculous. I didn’t do anything. I was just trying to stand up.”

“My girlfriend’s tit’s are not a stress ball fuckhead.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything, I swear.”

I needed him to shut up. The accent was driving me crazy. A cross between Southall and Chandigarh, it made me want to smash his rather prominent nose in. So I did. Two knuckle sandwiches to the kisser and it would be a while before he was able to articulate an amorous intention again. We left while he was staggering about in the shadows and cursing into his palms.

She always got so excited when I played the raging knight rushing in to save her honour. We barely got as far as the car before we had to consummate. The only thing I didn’t allow her to do when she got into this state, was lick their blood off my hands. That was just…too Bride of Dracula for my taste.

Everything else, was fair game.

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