April Fools Dare

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Two young ladies, one old geezer.
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Foreword

Okay, here's one for the April Fools contest. It was fun to write, I hope you enjoy it.

The following is in no way autobiographical, but the beach bar/restaurant does exist, as does the Sunflower Hotel in Hoi An, Vietnam. Oh, and there are also bikini-clad cuties on Cua Dai beach -- occasionally. *wink*

Other than those points, the rest of the stuff is made up.

Thank you for reading. Feedback is appreciated.

GA -- Da Nang, Vietnam -- 4th of March 2015.

***

They walked along the beach, two of them -- one white-blonde while the other's hair was the colour of a raven's wing. Using the old pervs' trick, which was simply pretending not to look, I tracked them as they approached. The ruse probably had nobody fooled, but I couldn't help ogling.

The pair drew level with my position and then passed by, the East Vietnam Sea swelling benignly just beyond them. I ignored the blue water and Cham Island in the distance because the view was much better close-in, my attention set on two of the most delectable rear-ends I'd seen in a good long time.

I indulged in a smug little smile before tilting the bottle to my lips: midday and I was swigging cold beer in the shade of a bar with a palm-frond roof while watching two beautiful girls walk by. It was a moment to savour, the pair of them in the skimpiest of dental-floss bikini briefs, the tops just as insignificant.

My mind wandered through one of those little imaginings that has no chance of ever enjoying life. At fifty-nine, I was an old geezer, invisible as far as those girls would be concerned -- but I didn't let that stop me thinking about it.

Sighing, I took another gulp at the beer, consigning the pair to the wank-bank. In my head I stored away long, tanned legs; superb derrieres; tight waists and the curve of their spines, the feminine form with the power to incite sane men to crazy acts.

The dark one was the taller of the two, her hips not quite as broad, the immaculate cheeks of her arse higher and tighter and worth a smidgen more money if I was buying -- which is the only way I'd ever enjoy physical intimacy with a girl like either of them.

The days of firm young flesh were well over for me. If I wanted it, I'd have to pay for it. For one as hot as the two I'd just watched saunter past the beach bar I'd have to fork out a lot of readies, which sucked all the romance out of it as far as I was concerned. A cold business transaction simply didn't appeal. So I watched and I dreamed.

...And then did a double take when I noticed the girls had turned a one-eighty and were on the return leg. Then I realised they weren't going past but had veered off, their path curving towards the bar.

They'd looked good thirty yards away on the sand, up close they were stunning.

I did my best to appear nonchalant, like I hadn't noticed -- Another epic fail as pointless as pretending not to look at them in the first place.

When I went to gulp beer I found the bottom of the bottle, my throat working as I pretended there was still liquid inside.

The girls paused and looked around, with the blonde's eyes settling on me. She nudged the dark-haired girl who then turned her focus my way while her friend muttered something I couldn't make out.

The dark one's green eyes bored holes in me, my face warming while an impression formed. I was aware of the blonde's sizeable breasts and her friend's less full-bodied frame. I registered the dark one was prettier, and somehow seemed nicer while the other looked a bit pouty and spoiled. Although I didn't have a chance to form any real opinion beyond the superficial at the time because it then dawned they were approaching my table.

Ridiculous hope surged. I felt a maelstrom in the pit of my stomach while carnal longing dragged at my vitals.

They arrived, the blonde with the bad attitude sauntering up while her friend slowly followed.

"Hiya," she said, cocking a hip while looking at me with her head canted to one side. "You English?"

I did my best to continue with the nonchalance while attempting not to stare with my mouth hanging open. It took a moment or two, but I finally managed a croaking, "Yes."

The girl nodded approval. "Great," she said and, with no further preamble, launched into her pitch. "Well, listen, me and my friend have walked along the beach and we've left our stuff with our friends." She waved a vague arm in the direction from which I'd seen them coming. "Thing is, we're thirsty and all our money is--" The blonde shrugged and left it hanging, the question obvious.

Now I have an intense dislike of females who use their physical appeal to their advantage. I hate being played in exactly the manner in which she was playing me.

Did she think I was an idiot? Did I look like I'd dropped off a Christmas tree?

It immediately struck me this girl had no qualms at all about using her body and her looks to cadge drinks from desperate old men. Under normal circumstances I would have laughed at her, but: first off, I was on my second beer and feeling the buzz; second they'd caught me off guard; and finally, well, I hate to admit it, but they really were sensational looking and I was a desperate old man. If it cost me the price of a couple of drinks to have the opportunity to gawp at them some more -- well, all right, I'd swallow my principles and do what the girl wanted.

"What would you like?" I asked in a drainpipe gurgle.

The blonde grinned and pointed to the bottle in front of me. "One of those."

She settled into a rickety chair and immediately setting about leaning in to rest her elbows on the table, breasts squeezed between her upper arms.

I couldn't help the gulp, my throat working to clear the sudden blockage as all my internal organs rose into my gullet.

The blonde's head tilted to one side, her frank appraisal settling on my face. I blinked and looked away towards the bar owner as he shuffled over, flip-flops scuffing on a frosting of sand on the concrete floor.

"What's your name," the blonde girl asked as he approached. "I'm Cate," she told me, "Cate with a C."

I turned back to her, blinking, confused by the qualification. "What?"

She rolled her eyes as though I was the stupidest lump she'd ever encountered. The, sighing, she spelled it out for me. "I used to be Kate with a K," the girl grinned. "But I thought that was too common so I changed it. Now I'm Cate with a C."

"Right," I replied, lost for any other response. "Okay--"

"I'm Zoe," the other girl said, saving me.

When my head went round again I saw Zoe settling onto a chair. She sat to the side of me, the action taking her smooth, bejewelled stomach and Chinese character tattoo out of my sight-line.

"I'm Graham," I told them both, asking Zoe what she wanted to drink.

She shrugged and pulled a face and then went on to make the order for the three of us.

The old man nodded and scuffed away, flip-flops making that nails-on-the-chalkboard scratch as he went.

"So, Graham," Cate said, leaning back in her seat. She threw an arm over the back of the chair, breasts straining at the cups of her insubstantial bikini bra. "How long are you here for?"

Cate stared at me with what appeared to be avid interest. I thought she was lovely: tanned, lithe, sweet boobs and flirty as they come, mesmerising me with big eyes and pink, most lips while twirling a stray wisp of blonde hair around a forefinger.

The girl was really playing me -- just for a beer!

"Three months," I replied, "longer if I can a visa extension."

I had the satisfaction of seeing Cate boggle for a moment.

"What -- are you rich or something?"

"Not really," I replied, pulling a face. "I'm working, so--"

The next question came from Zoe: "What do you do?"

"I write," I said, then waited for the inevitable, which came from Cate immediately.

"What do you write about?"

A slight hesitation before I delivered the answer.

"Erotica."

At which Zoe's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Really?" she gasped.

"Fuck off!" was Cate's incredulous response. The blonde stared at me for a few seconds, cogs whirling. "Oh my God," she trilled after adjusting her assessment of me. She grinned broadly. "Like that Fifty Shades thing?"

"Not exactly," I said, wincing. "I'm nowhere near as popular."

Cate was gawping at me, expression comically idiotic for a few moments more. Then she blinked, her face morphing back to normal while saying, "Ah, hang on--" She waved a forefinger at me, grinning and nodding. "It's a joke, right?" Cate turned to her friend, eyes rolling. "He's taking the piss, Zoe. You know what today is?"

The dark-haired girl regarded her friend with a puzzled frown. "Wednesday?"

"April the first," Cate said, clapping her hands. "It's an April Fool! He's having us on." The girl pointed at me and laughed. "Good one. Almost got us."

The old man arriving with the beers interrupted the general hilarity. Zoe looked doubtful, her eyes flicking between me and Cate, who was still hooting, doubled up with exaggerated mirth, arms around her midriff.

Thirty seconds later Cate had calmed sufficiently to take a swig at the beer. "God, I don't believe I almost fell for it," she grinned, tilting the bottle to me. "You--"

By then she was really getting on my nerves. Little know-it-all-bitch...

A kaleidoscope of images flickered across a mental screen: Cate squirming across my lap while I hauled her insignificant bikini briefs down her thighs, her supreme rump wriggling as the mollusc of her quim pouted at me from the concavity at the tops of her thighs. I delivered a stinging blow to her bottom. I could hear Cate's yelp of surprise as she squirmed harder, another slap landing with a satisfying thwack before I kneaded her buttocks with my fingers.

"It's true," I said, shrugging. "I've got stuff published. I could show you--"

Cate's eyes narrowed. She leaned in, elbows on the table again, squishy breasts a magnet for my eyes. "Really?" she asked, her tone telling me she still wasn't completely convinced.

"Really," I replied, emphatic.

She recovered quickly, easing back, eyes fixed on my face. Cate kept looking at me as she lifted the bottle to her lips.

I watched her throat as she swallowed a mouthful.

"Would you write about me?" the girl purred, challenging me with her stare and taunting smirk.

My bottom lips curled as I mirrored her belligerence. I feigned deliberation, stretching it out for several seconds before saying, "Well ... I could. But my themes normally centre on a sexy mature woman who initiates a shy young man -- rites of passage stuff," I shrugged. "But I could," I added, pausing again before throwing down the gauntlet. "I'd need you to tell me what you'd like to be ... uh ... involved in. Purely for the story, I mean."

If I'd thought to put Cate on the back foot with my challenge, I was sorely mistaken.

A dark chuckle came out of her. Blue eyes flashed as she continued with the vulpine smirk. "Well," she drawled. "Just as a fantasy thing -- I'd never do it for real..."

I saw her flick a glance at Zoe.

"...But I'd love to be the girl in the middle of a gang-bang. Me and--" Cate's eyes closed, face tilting towards the ceiling, her lips pursed in a moue of concentration. "Oh," she continued, eyes snapping open. Cate waved a casual hand, "I dunno -- six or seven guys?"

I was digesting this when I heard Zoe snort.

"Centre of attention as usual," she said. "Fucking hell, Cate--"

The blonde bridled. "Fuck off," she snapped, meaning it, spitting the words at Zoe.

It was the first hint I had of any rivalry between the pair.

"Well," Zoe sighed, drawing the word out while rolling her eyes. "You're such a show-off sometimes."

They glared at each other for a few dangerous moments.

"Gang-bang, eh?" I said, interjecting purely to avoid any further confrontation. "I suppose I could do something--"

Half an hour later I was back in my room, laptop fired-up, the cursor blinking on a blank page, real work put aside. I held Cate and Zoe in my mind's eye while pondering for a time. In my head they were naked, a scene slowly forming.

The start is usually the trickiest point, and I wondered how to begin, finally opting to place Cate right in the middle of the action, an array of cocks presented to her immediately. It was odd, an unprecedented experience, but I could hear Cate's enthusiasm as I typed her imagined responses, and after that it was easy. I had 5000 words down a few hours later.

I blinked, wondering where the afternoon had gone.

It was 6 p.m. and I had an appointment to meet the girls.

***

Zoe: stunning in Roman sandals, brief denim skirt and loose-fitting singlet with the Chang beer logo on the front. At the beach the girl had worn her long straight hair tied up in a lazy knot on the top of her head, but when I met her and Cate outside the seething den of iniquity that fronted as the Sunflower Hotel she had it set free in a blue-black curtain which shimmered down her back.

Cate, predictably, went for something slightly more provocative. Her blonde hair was pulled tight in a ponytail, her full bosom packed into a tight tee-shirt. It was obvious she was naked under the shirt, nipples outlined as though she had two pebbles down there. I was sure I could make out the coins of her areolae, too. Skimpy boy shorts exaggerated the length of Cate's legs, my face warming at the recollection of the quick fantasy-reel I'd indulged in earlier in the day when I saw Spank Me emblazoned across the rear, a word allocated to each taut cheek.

In a deliberate effort to divert my focus from Cate's body I homed in on Zoe. "Thailand, eh?" I asked, pointing to the front of her vest.

She looked blank for a moment and then twigged. "Oh yeah. We were there before Cambodia, which was before here."

"Long trip?" I asked.

Zoe shrugged. "Six months. Then it'll be time to get a job and make a start on a career."

I was about to ask what plans she might have when Cate interjected with, "So ... Get anything written?"

Anxiety gripped my guts as I grimaced and said, "Well, yes. I managed to get something down." I was suddenly uncertain when they both stared at me, twin expressions expectant. "I don't know if it's any good--"

Cate pointed to the canvas bag I had slung over my shoulder. "You got it with you, yeah?"

I nodded. "My laptop. I don't have a printer where I'm staying -- and I haven't had time--"

"I want to read it," Cate cut in. "Now."

I eyed the broad, impressive façade of the hotel. I'd stayed there once myself a few years before. Back then it was a decent place with a swimming pool and a generous buffet breakfast, but, in the meantime it had been turned into a Backpacker hostel. I took a look at the Sunflower and imagined raucous pool parties, casual hook-ups and a breakfast bar which looked like it had been laid to waste by a plague of locusts.

"Uh, where did you have in mind?" I asked, reluctant to set foot inside the zoo.

"We could use your room, eh, Zoe?" Cate said to her friend before turning her attention to me. "She's got a private room -- own toilet and shower, too. Her dad doesn't like the idea of his little princess in dorms." The blonde rolled her eyes. "She's twenty-two for fuck's sake ... What does he think--"

"Why don't you just shut up about all that," Zoe put in, clearly exasperated. "You didn't work in a clothes shop while you were at uni, did you? Just because your father paid for everything ... Just because he's throwing money at you for this trip--

"You wouldn't believe the allowance he's given her," Zoe said to me. "We could stay in much nicer places but she wants to slum it."

A petulant Cate responded with, "Your old man's forking out for you, too. Don't make out like your dad's not rolling in it as well. You didn't have to work. He would have paid.

"Anyway," the blonde pouted. "It's more fun this way. I like staying in dorms."

"You just like the attention. All those smelly guys gawping at you--"

The situation seemed on the verge of violence so I interjected quickly. "Girls--" I said as they glared at each other. "Ladies ... Hey, there's no need for all this." I nudged my chin towards the hotel. "Could we use your room, Zoe? I think I'd prefer the privacy if it's all right with you." The thought of Cate reading the piece amid a crowd of grungy backpackers wasn't enthusing. I could just see her sharing my laptop around. "Or we could go to my place?" I offered.

Zoe eyed my scooter, eyebrows arched. "Three-up on that thing?" she replied. "Not a chance. Come on."

I followed the girls inside, feeling as conspicuous as a pair of bulldog's bollocks among the cool-kids and their attitude. It was a relief to get past all the mayhem and into the sanctuary of Zoe's private room on the second floor.

The door closed behind me and I looked at the girls as they sat side-by-side on the big bed.

It was a decent room: fair-sized, flat-screen television, heavy furniture typical of the region. I glanced around and saw it was either the bed or one of two hard-looking chairs to sit on, and since the girls were already on the bed, my options were limited.

"There's beer in the fridge," Zoe said, pointing.

Carnal longing yawed in my guts when I saw the girl's legs exposed up to her underwear.

"Pass a couple over," Cate called.

I popped the tabs on two cans of LaRue and handed them across.

They sipped simultaneously, both of them propped up with their backs against the headboard, legs straight out in front.

"I wanna read it," Cate said, grinning with indecent expectation while gesturing with one hand towards the laptop bag on my shoulder. "I wanna see what a slut you've made me into."

Odd concern for their good opinion settled inside me and my stomach lurched in a greasy slide of uncertainty as I said, "I hope you like it." I slid the laptop out of the bag. "I hope it isn't too graphic. I wasn't sure about the dialogue--"

I heard myself beginning to babble, so I shut up. It was too late anyway. I'd written what I had and I was there in the room with them. There were two choices: refuse to let them read the piece or get on with it. I did consider offering to email the thing after a little more work -- without the pair of them present to offer any criticism to my face when I looked up and saw them gawping at me. My nerve almost went, but then Cate whined at me to hurry up and I found some spine. Fuck it. She'll either like it or she won't. I'm not getting paid for it; I don't know them, so--

The laptop flickered into life.

A few mouse-clicks later it was up.

"There," I said, fingers of nervous anticipation taking a final squeeze at my guts. "All yours."

Then I grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open and took several deep gulps. With one can down I went for another, sipping as I sat down on the hard seat to await the jury's verdict.

***

I sat on the chair, slurping beer while waiting in an agony of trepidation. I watched the pair intently and over-analysed every arched eyebrow, mutter, or nudge of an elbow. I saw Zoe giggle and Cate gasp, the blonde's eyes coming up to meet my concerned gaze.

"You dirty fucking perv," she grinned.

The way Cate said it went a long way towards dispelling my anxiety. I'd seen some level of approval in her face and watched closely for more while Cate's lips moved as she read on.

At least they weren't laughing and pointing.

Eventually, with those girls perched on the bed, knees up, laptop between them, I asked, "Well, what do you think?"

Zoe's eyes caught mine. She held my stare for a few achingly long seconds before turning her face to Cate. "Well?" she asked. "What do you think?"

Cate looked up, eyes wide. She nodded, pouting. "I'm a slut," she smirked.