Fighting Over Alice

Jack and Mark crashed out in the room before they'd even unpacked. It had been a long flight to Bali, not to mention the seemingly endless bus ride to the hotel. They didn't surface until early evening, local time, and it was later still by the time they got themselves together and down to the bar. They swooped thirstily on their beers, finished in a matter of seconds. 'Fuck, I needed that!' groaned Jack.

They ordered another and took them to a table. 'So, what should we do tonight?' Mark mused, sipping more sedately now. 'Just kinda not very much?'

'Mmm.'

The two friends grinned at each other, savouring the 'start of holiday' feeling. They'd been looking forward to this trip for ages: two weeks in the tropical sun between graduating college and starting the grind of job-hunting back home in Boston.

The place became busier as the night progressed, Jack and Mark getting pleasantly sozzled as the beers kept flowing. 'Bound to be,' Mark replied to Jack's wondering (for the umpteenth time) about whether there'd be much by way of 'pussy' around here. God, the guy was obsessed. 'Fucking hope so!' Jack said.

'Relax, man. Like I told you, this place is ...' But Jack wasn't listening. 'Oh my word. Speak of the devil,' he whispered, eyes keening over Mark's shoulder. Mark swung round to check on the attraction. A lush brunette had entered the establishment. The girl was a distance away but he could make out the essentials of pretty face and knockout body in a short, slinky dress. She was sashaying across the room in that way hot girls do when they know they're hot. With a mighty effort he dragged my eyes back to Jack. 'See, there you go.'

'She is smokin',' said Jack, leering. 'Oh fuck, she's gonna sit at the bar!'

'What, on her own?'

'Looks like it.'

Mark grinned at him. 'So, that's me sorted. What are you gonna do?'

'Piss off, Mark.'

Mark shrugged and tried to get back into their conversation, but he soon gave up; Jack was constantly ogling the hottie who, from Mark's position, he couldn't see without craning and being too obvious. 'OK, let's both stare,' he finally announced, exasperated, and he adjusted his chair accordingly. 'Don't, man. She'll know we're lusting,' Jack protested.

'Yeah, right. As if she doesn't know half the guys here are doing that.'

Because the girl was most definitely a looker and, judging by her expression and body language, she seemed to be relishing the torrent of male attention coming her way. 'I think she's up for it,' Mark said.

'Really?'

'Yep, I reckon.'

Mark figured it was only a matter of time before she got hit on and so, fuelled by the booze, he made a move. He jumped up and, leaving Jack open-mouthed, he made towards the bar. But too late; she'd finished her drink and was up and away before he got even halfway over there. He was left looking slightly foolish as he turned and rejoined Jack at the table. 'Can't win em all,' Jack chuckled and Mark grinned ruefully.

*

The following afternoon, pursuing a lazy day of sun-sea-sand, the boys were hanging out in one of the resort's beach bars. It was quite crowded and they were having to share a table, the two of them plus this girl who was munching her way avidly through a burger of some sort. 'Good?' said Jack, when she'd finished, flashing his best grin despite the girl being nothing to write home about.

The girl smiled bashfully. Probably unaccustomed to guys chatting her up, Mark suspected. She wasn't a horror show or anything but was certainly no oil painting; rather plain, in truth, and with a figure that, although camouflaged by the loose kaftan affair she was wearing, was discernibly ... well let's just say she could do with going easy on the burgers.

'What's your name?' Mark asked her. 'It's Cynthia,' she replied, accent sufficiently Australian to leave little doubt where she was from. 'Lovely name,' Mark said, triggering a blush from her and a kick under the table from Jack. 'Yeah, lovely name,' Jack echoed.

They introduced themselves and the three of them got chatting. Cynthia seemed a nice girl and she talked away quite merrily once she'd loosened up. Turned out she was on holiday with her friend, Alice. They'd been there a week and were staying at the same hotel as Mark and Jack. 'So, where's Alice now?' Mark enquired.

'She's gone for a swim ... said it's too hot to eat.'

'Have to agree with her there,' said Jack, sipping at his beer. 'Still, this is what ...'

At which point he lost his thread because he'd spotted the honey from last night. So had Mark. There she was, walking up the beach, wearing a black bikini and looking good enough to raise the dead.

The view only got better as she got closer. The bikini was hardly there at all, covered the essentials and absolutely nothing else, it left no doubt whatsoever that this girl was blessed with a magnificent body. She was a wet dream. Guys had their tongues out as she passed by. Mark's eyes zeroed in on the sliver of material across her undulating hips. You could almost see the goods between her legs. What you could see down there -- an exquisite expanse of flat and smoothly waxed lower belly -- was thrilling enough.

But what happened next was more than thrilling. The babe kept on coming towards them until, a few gob-smacking moments later, she was stood right by their table, shades pushed to the top of her head, gazing down at Mark and Jack with an insinuating smile.

'Gee, Cyn, I leave you alone for one second and you're hooked up with two hunky men!'

The voice, a little throaty with a playfully seductive lilt, didn't disappoint. Clearly Australian too, but the accent less prominent than her friend's. 'Oh, hi, Alice,' said Cynthia, quickly. 'This is Jack and Mark.' The delectable Alice was looking quietly amused, but if she recognised the boys from last night she wasn't letting on. 'Hi there, Alice,' they chorused, standing up clumsily and offering hands. Being described as 'hunky' by a dynamite chick like this had instantly dispelled their mid-afternoon torpor. Alice pulled a chair and joined them.

It was hard for the boys to know quite how to play things; they both had the hots for the babe, obviously, however there was the sadly unfanciable friend to deal with too. The upshot was that both boys ended up flirting with both girls. It felt a little awkward to Mark but the others seemed happy enough. There was one slightly sticky interlude when Alice, complimented by Jack on her tan, smiled and said 'Thanks. I just love the sun! Poor Cyn has to be careful, though. You burn up, don't you, Hun? Go all lobster,' and the resulting attention on her less than flattering colour ('lobster' was about right) clearly embarrassed Cynthia; but other than that, things flowed reasonably smoothly as they all got to know each other. The girls were a couple of years younger than Jack and Mark. They were friends through high school and now shared a flat in Melbourne. Cynthia was in her first job, a secretary, whilst Alice had just finished her fresher year at one of the more prestigious universities. 'Ah, so the beauty has the brains too. That is so not fair!' Mark thought (but didn't say). They managed to ascertain that neither girl currently had a boyfriend. Unsurprising in Cynthia's case, Mark thought, although her friend looked the sort who'd have a string of them. Perhaps she did but wasn't saying. OK, well good news either way.

Throughout the encounter ran the challenge of not leching too overtly at Alice, a challenge made all the more considerable by the miniscule bikini top she was (almost) wearing. The straps were prone to sliding over her shoulders and her attempts to push them back in place weren't particularly effectual. After a while she seemed to forget about it and her top settled into an excruciating position, balanced precariously on the lower slopes of her jutting breasts. Depending on the angle Mark could glimpse a hint of nipple, occasionally more than a hint. Oh god. It was tough not to stare. Sun-glasses would have eased the predicament somewhat but they'd removed them in the shade of the bar and it would have looked odd to put them back on.

Jack was struggling as much as he was, needless to say, but they did OK. Sure, they were snatching an eyeful periodically, and Mark was sure Alice sensed it, however it was nothing too crude or blatant and she didn't seem to mind. Whatever, the modus operandi worked, because by the time they reached the 'OK, see you later,' phase of the conversation they'd agreed to do precisely that; the four of them were meeting up in the hotel bar at nine o'clock.

When they rose to exchange bye-for-nows Alice appeared strangely taller than she had before. On closer examination Mark realised it was an optical illusion; she hadn't actually elongated while talking to them (she was still of medium height, around five six or so), it was that Cynthia was rather 'vertically challenged', barely five foot, maybe even less. At six foot plus, Jack and Mark towered over her.

Alice turned briefly and waved as she strolled away; she had a sly smile on her face, a smile that said 'Yeah, I know how utterly glorious my ass looks in this bikini, and I know both you horny boys are checking it out.' Correct on both counts. Immediately following her wave she put an extra little wiggle into her walk and, although there were numerous guys drooling at her, it was clearly for Mark's and Jack's benefit. Jack grunted something obscene and announced he had a 'mother' of a hard-on. 'Me too, mate,' Mark grinned, his eyes following the two Aussie girls as they receded down the beach: the bronzed, bikini-clad babe and, waddling alongside, the short dumpy friend in a smock. 'Houston, we have a problem,' chuckled Jack, giving voice to what they were both thinking. 'Talk about beauty and the beast!'

'Yeah, well, let's talk about it later,' Mark told him, needing to gather his thoughts.

*

They didn't talk about it, as it turned out. What they did, as they primped in their room getting ready for the 'date', was bicker like crazy.

'C'mon, it's only one night,' said Jack, pressing his claim to be the one hitting on Alice. 'It isn't, though, is it?' Mark said. 'What if you get lucky and then I'm stuck with the dumpster while you're fucking Jessica Alba's identical twin for the rest of the holiday? Nah, mate, sorry.'

'Don't be like that. Cynthia's a nice girl.'

'Yeah, she is ... to talk to.'

'Well just talk then.'

'Look, Jack, if she's such a nice girl why don't you get with her?'

'Because I prefer the hot friend. I have this weird predilection for incredibly attractive women, see.'

'Tosser,' Mark grinned, throwing a pillow at him.

'So, that's agreed then? You and Cynth, me and Alice?'

'Is it?'

'Isn't it?'

'Or is it more accurate to say it's totally unagreed?' Mark sniped. And so on and so forth. Neither of them was prepared to 'take one for the team'; they'd done it before for each other (a few times, actually) but in this particular case, no chance. 'How about we toss a coin?' Mark suggested, eventually, tired of arguing.

'You'll accept it if you lose, will you?'

'Probably not,' Mark said, deciding it was pointless to lie.

'OK, so I guess it's a case of "may the best man win",' grinned Jack.

'What, we both try and pull the hottie?'

'Yeah.'

Mark was less than impressed with this. As every guy knows who's ever played the 'hottie and nottie' scenario, the big danger with concentrating all your attention on the first, the reason it's such a no no, is not so much that the ugly one gets annoyed and jealous (since who cares, right?), but that the pretty one gets hacked off too. Why? Well, because she doesn't want her friend feeling hurt and excluded from all the fun. And so you end up blowing the whole thing. He explained this to Jack, although there was really no need. He knew the game as well as Mark did. 'Just have to risk it, won't we?' Jack said, putting the finishing touches to his appearance. 'How do I look?'

'Like shit,' Mark told him. Not true unfortunately; showered and shaved, faded jeans and cotton shirt, he looked more than OK. Then again, similarly attired, so did Mark.

Mark gave up on the whole argument. What had Jack said? May the best man win? Fine, bring it on. He checked his watch. 'Any case, we better get down there.'

*

The girls were twenty minutes late; the boys were just starting to fret about being stood up when they finally came down to join them at the bar.

Mark's determination to beat Jack in their forthcoming 'Battle for Alice' was intensified by the girls' respective appearance: Cynthia dolled up to the nines and wearing a frilly looking (and quite elaborate) multi-coloured frock, Alice with minimal make-up and looking the perfect blend of simple and sexy in a denim mini and a lacy white top. That Cynthia had made by far the bigger effort only pointed up her friend's infinitely greater allure. The girl was drop-dead gorgeous. 'Sorry, guys. I know we're late,' she said, sliding onto a stool and crossing her lovely legs. Cynthia did the same but her short stubby pins didn't have quite the same impact. 'No problem!' they chorused, their attention dwelling on how Alice's tight skirt had ridden a long way up her thighs. 'Cynthia took an age to get ready!' Alice said, grinning mischievously. 'Alice!' said Cynthia, making light of the comment but keen to change the subject.

'Just hope you boys appreciate it,' Alice added.

'Oh we do!' Mark assured her. 'Yeah, you look great,' said Jack.

There was no question who Jack's 'you' was referring to. Both he and Mark were gazing appreciatively at Alice and doing nothing to hide the fact. Alice certainly noticed (she could hardly fail to, the way they were feasting their eyes) and the knowing smirk which flitted across her pretty face indicated that she didn't mind one bit. 'So, you going to buy the ladies a drink?' she pouted.

They ordered more beer for them and white wine for the girls.

Then the 'battle' began in earnest, Jack and Mark locking horns and turning all the charm at their disposal on the hottie. Poor Cynthia was like a spare part. Unlike earlier at the beach, the boys made zero effort with her. They barely acknowledged her presence. Both of them were scared that time spent talking to Cynthia would be exploited to the other guy's advantage and so they dropped all pretence and concentrated exclusively on what they wanted -- her delicious friend.

They competed manfully for Alice's favour, ogling her, lavishing her with compliments, listening attentively to her stories, amusing her with their own, and Alice lapped it up with the easy confidence that flows from being a stunning nineteen year old girl.

She flirted shamelessly with both boys, kept them simmering with the aplomb of an accomplished prick tease. She had the whole repertoire: the wide-eyed interest in everything they said; the sultry pouting smile and soft suggestive giggles; the subtle touching, hand coming to rest lightly on their arm, her fingers from time to time 'accidentally' brushing their thigh; the frequent flicking and tossing of her lustrous dark hair, the tongue sliding around full sensuous lips and the oh-so-cute biting down on the bottom one; the teasing peek-a-boo with her spectacular breasts as they tried their level best to tumble out of her flimsy top; the languorous stretching in her seat, top sliding up her torso to tantalise the drooling boys with several inches of smoothly toned belly; the constant flaunting of those luscious legs, the erotic choreography of silky golden thighs forever crossing and re-crossing under stretched denim, the lazy absent-minded scratching of that persistent 'itch' just under the hem of her skirt; the loosened sandal dangled mesmerisingly from the end of scarlet-painted and beautifully pedicured toes. She drove them nuts, pretty much.

The unfortunate Cynthia sat in miserable silence as her sexy friend basked in male ardour. She was attempting not to look unhappy and wildly jealous but wasn't really succeeding. At first she strove to stay involved, looked for openings in the conversation, seized on any opportunity to make a bright little interjection, but before too long she accepted the essence of the situation and became virtually mute, sat there stewing, ignored apart from Alice's occasional 'Cynthia, you're very quiet?' type remarks, these delivered in a superior and rather patronising tone which only served to emphasise her friend's lowly status and exclusion from what was going on.

After over an hour of this, and two more drinks each, Alice excused herself to go to the bathroom. 'Wanna come too, Cyn?' she said, looking pointedly at Cynthia, making clear that it was more instruction than question. 'Um, OK, sure,' Cynthia mumbled, the first words she'd uttered for quite some time, and the two of them went off.

'Going well,' grinned Jack, when they'd disappeared.

'Yep, I'd say it is. Except poor Cynthia's not having such a brilliant time, is she?'

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. 'Christ, that dress! Does she really think she looks good in that?'

Mark shrugged. 'Guess she has to try.'

'Suppose so. But the funny thing is how she's behaving. She's obviously used to being ignored by guys when her hot friend is around and figures she has to put up with it. So it's cool for us.'

'Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like she knows her place.'

'Exactly. Hottie's ugly mug friend. The way she's sitting there like a lemon while you and me are all over Alice, it's fucking hilarious. Bet it's always like that. Bet the poor girl doesn't get a sniff. She must be gagging for it!'

'Bet she is,' Mark laughed.

'She so shouldn't hang out with Alice. Just makes her look a complete moose. Can't believe they actually live together. Fuck, can you imagine?'

'Gotta feel sorry for chicks like that, don't you?'

'Do you?' said Jack, looking dubious.

'Yeah, you know. Desperate for a shag but never get a look in. All that ever happens is guys crawling over them to get to the hottie.'

'Well maybe I'll let her suck my dick sometime ... if she asks me really nicely.'

'There's a thought,' Mark chuckled.

'After I've fucked her gorgeous best friend a few times, that is.'

'Ooo, Mr Confident.'

Jack took a long swig of his beer. He had a definite glint in his eye. 'Or after "we've" fucked her, I should say. Because I reckon it's a threesome later if we play our cards right.'

'Now you're talking!'

'Hey, Mark, so I dunno what all that "the pretty one will get hacked off if we both go for her" bullshit was about.'

'It's not bullshit. Usually that's what happens.'

'Because it seems to me Alice rather digs having two blokes fighting over her while the minger gets precisely nada. Seems to me the girl is loving every minute of it.'

'Yeah, it's an odd one. It's like she's getting off on the whole thing,' Mark agreed.

'No question, she is.'

'Bit of a bitch really.'

'Rubbing her friend's nose in it, you mean?'

'Right.'

'Yeah, well. Hot bitches rule the roost. That's life, innit?'

'You're such a philosopher, Jack, anyone ever told you that?'

'C'mon, it's true!'

'Still ... it's kinda mean what she's doing.'

'And this bugs us, does it?'

'Nah, not really, but ...'

'Cos listen, Mark, you can always bail out or switch if you want. Leave Alice to me.'

'Dream on, mate. Dream on.'

'Thought so,' Jack sniggered. 'Fuck, did you clock the way she keeps flashing her tits at us? Don't know about you but I was ...'

He broke off because the girls were on their way back. They re-joined them, Alice with a radiant smile, Cynthia still somewhat stony-faced.

'So, the night is young. What next, gorgeous? Another here?' Jack asked, looking at Alice. She pondered a moment before announcing that she fancied a 'change of scenery' but wasn't sure where. 'How about the nightclub here at the hotel?' Mark suggested. 'That "Club Rosso" thing down in the basement. Meant to be quite good, apparently.'