The Tabitha Files Pt. 03

"And you liked it?"

"Fuck, yeah!"

"And so, you wanted to do what I did to you with her?"

"Yep."

"And, how was it?"

"I don't know. It felt good to be getting fucked by you and licking Sarah at the same time, but when you stuck your dick up my butt, without my permission I might add," she chided me playfully, "I couldn't concentrate on Sarah anymore. The feelings I was getting from you were just too much."

"And that's when you came?" I asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Yeah. As I said, it was like nothing I've ever experienced."

"But want to again?"

"Stop it!" She shot me a stern glance, before laughing lightly and swallowing another shot of distilled ethanol. For my part, I drained another can, this time of Melbourne Bitter and winced at the forgettable taste. I got up, changed the cassette over to the B-side and grabbed another beer from the fridge.

"So, no regrets about last week then?" I asked as I resumed my seat on the balcony.

"No, it was fun."

"What about us?" I asked, wondering if us fucking again had created an expectation in Tabitha about us.

"What about us?" she answered, dismissively, "I really like you, Jason, maybe even love you, but you're a fish out of water here."

"What do you mean?" I asked, guardedly wondering where she was going with this.

"My mum told me about you applying for other jobs with the bank. Jobs that will take you away from Albany, to Perth or even to Melbourne. These are places I can't follow, well not yet anyway."

"Hmm, Ok," I responded, deflatingly before adding honestly, "I just feel I can do more with my life than is possible here."

"I know. My mum said that ultimately you'd move on and not to get too attached." Tabitha's mum must have been reading my mail.

"Yes, but..."

"Nope, don't say it." Tabitha shut me down before I made commitments that my arse couldn't honour, and it was evident to me that we had our reckoning with each other. Instead of parking the sage counsel I needed for the sex that I wanted, Tabitha had flipped the situation upside down.

"You need to follow your dreams and, if it's meant to be, our destinies will cross again." She said. Tabitha was correct; our paths would cross again during the birth pangs of the coming millennium (but that's getting ahead of ourselves).

"Wherever the winding road leads, I'll miss these experiences," I replied, meaning balmy nights on the balcony, drinking beer against a backdrop of stunning natural scenery that was Princess Royal Harbour and the madhouse parties that we had here, but everyone must grow up and my time was beckoning.

"Me too but I'll never forget them."

"That's for sure," I replied before swallowing a gulp of chemically abused fermented barley. The downer Tabitha was administering to me made me feel like chucking her out and heading back to the pub or, better yet, the 1912 Nightclub. At least, come the 2 am bin rake, I'd stand a better chance of getting laid. I recognised the bitterness in my thoughts and then banished them, but I fell into a prolonged silence. Tabitha picked up on this, put down her bottle of fire juice, straddled me on my chair - which required hitching up her denim skirt - before placing her arms loosely around my neck and giving me a sultry look of someone who had just wrested the initiative.

"It doesn't mean that we can't have fun between now and when you leave."

She kissed me, long and deep. It was a kiss of pure passion that even the foul stench of vodka in her mouth couldn't disguise. My cock instantly jumped to attention, and I placed my hands on her waist and held her delicately. As we kissed, I could distinctly smell her coconut skin moisturiser which gave her the appeal of a tropical Venus.

Tabitha was nothing if not unpredictable. As I was settling into this passionate kiss, she suddenly disengaged, stood up, adjusted her shorts and announced, "Gotta pee!" Before disappearing like a flash to the toilet.

It was such an unexpected and sudden move that it left me a tad frustrated. Somewhere in the fog of adulterated beer and hormones, germinated an idea I wanted to try. But first I needed to consume more Melbourne Bitter and Tabitha more vodka. Presently, Tabitha re-joined me in the balcony and resumed her seat rather than my lap.

"When you caught up with Sarah, did she ask you about that orgasm?" I asked.

Tabitha giggled, "Yes, she did."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth."

"What was her reaction?" I asked, recalled my conversation with her the previous Monday and the wholly predictable response to the revelation that her BFF took cock up her arse for the first time. Tabitha thought for a second before chuckling.

"Erm, it was interesting", she answered, diplomatically "she wasn't enthusiastic!"

"No? Now there's a revelation!" We both laughed. It wasn't the first time Tabitha and I had shared a joke about Sarah's dullness.

"She thinks what we did was disgusting." Of course, she did.

"Well, neither you or I agree with that."

"I know, right. I explained to Sarah that it didn't hurt, and I found it extremely pleasurable, but she looked at me as if I had three heads. It was funny." The reference to three heads - small town inbreeding - is how residents of Perth view residents of Albany or, on a national level, how mainlanders see Tasmanians. Parochial attitudes are rife in Australia, but they are humorous when discussed over drinks.

"Did she say anything else?"

"She asked me what was good about it and I went through how it felt like I just did with you."

"Did it have any effect?" I asked, wondering if a woman's perspective might soften Sarah's determined opposition to anal sex.

"I don't know. I told Sarah to try it first before rejecting the idea, and she said she might."

Wow, now I was alive to the possibilities. If Sarah were going to try anal sex with anyone, it would likely be with me given how much she relaxes in my company. Now, Tabitha had said that she and I weren't back together, casual sex couldn't interfere in our friendship (or so I naively thought). Of course, I kept my glee to myself because I didn't know if Sarah had confessed that the two of us had already had sex a few days ago. Some further teasing out of this three-way tango was required before all hands were declared.

In the meantime, The Tea Party's Edges of Twilight had come to an end, and so I had a decision to make: Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow's Greatest Hits or The Doors Greatest Hits? The former was - gosh, and golly - a CD (what trickery was this?) and the latter was the more familiar cassette. How to choose between original and improved sound versus tried and tested technology? These were the decisions that people in the 90s had to grapple with. In the end, I went with my musical influences and chose Rainbow and an eclectic mixture of hits spanning the period 1975 to 1981 resonated from a $69.95 West Coast HiFi "stereo system". Life didn't get any better than this.

Once the CD started, I nipped to the kitchen and grabbed a fresh beer and re-joined Tabitha on the balcony, eager to get her supple body straddling mine again. She didn't seem keen to resume the former intimacy, and just stared into the distance lost in the music. So, I did the same, safe in the knowledge that the conversation would restart shortly. I didn't mind though, the view and the balminess were relaxing and led my thoughts back to the future.

"Sarah told me about Monday!" The sound of the screeching needle from a record player brought me back to the here and now. I nearly spat the beer from my mouth. Tabitha looked over and laughed at my discomfiture.

"Oh yeah?

"Yeah!"

"And?"

"And, nothing." More chuckles.

"It was a chance encounter. I wasn't expecting to see her at the supermarket. It was just a spontaneous thing." I replied, scrambling for justification when in fact I needed none. I also hate using the noun thing, and it reminded me of the exchange between Admiral Kirk and Dr Leonard "Bones" McCoy when the latter beams to the U.S.S. Enterprise during that boring, yet visually beautiful, film Star Trek: The Motion Picture. "A thing is an object that one need not cannot, or does not wish to give a specific name to".

"It's fine. During our chat about last Saturday night, I told her we weren't together."

"Oh, really?"

"Of course. That's the truth," It was. "Besides, nothing that happened was planned."

Except for the movie night and the booze and the choice of movies.

"Did she tell you about it yesterday?"

"Yes. Sarah was rather embarrassed about it, but it didn't mean anything to me."

"Oh!" I replied, somewhat surprised.

"Why should it? All of us enjoyed what happened, and we don't have regrets."

"No, it was great. I'll take the memory of that night to my grave!"

We both laughed easily.

"Sarah mentioned that you were very gentle with her." Echoes of the previous Monday.

"I guess she hasn't had that kind of experience before," I said, knowing the answer already, and Tabitha shot me a confirming glance.

No further words were needed, and there was a pause in the discussion.

"So, what did you two talk about on the way home on Sunday morning?" I asked, punctuating the peace.

"Not much, to be honest. I was hungover," Laughed Tabitha, without a hint of irony. "Sarah asked me if we were cool about the sex."

"And?"

"I was cool about it, and her question made me feel all funny inside. Horny again."

"Like me!" I said, remembering how horny I was that Sunday.

"Yeah, so horny that you fucked my friend a few days later!"

"Not in the arse, and it wasn't planned!"

We both laughed and took swigs of our beverages. After the inevitable vodka afterburn, I noticed Tabitha parted her legs that were resting on the metal balustrade, and with her right hand hitched up the hem of her skirt. That hand began stroking the inside of her thigh, from the knee and then moving lower. The flirtatious chat was turning the nubile Tabitha on. I meant to take advantage of this unexpected benefit.

"Was she good?"

"Not as good as you," I replied, which was the truth. Sarah was inexperienced and clumsy in the bedroom, not to mention prudish. Tabitha, at least, had curiosity going for her.

"You're just saying that." Fishing for compliments, obviously.

I recounted the events of last Monday, trying not to be too coarse.

"Sarah told me it was the most intimate thing she has experienced."

While clumsily complimentary, Sarah was coming off a low base, and almost any mature approach to pleasuring her was going to be better than her previous experiences.

"Well, you know all about that!" I cockily remarked. At which, Tabitha half-heartedly smacked my arm.

"Yes, I do, and I lost it," She said, perhaps reflecting on her previous infidelity. "And don't say you're going to stay here just for me."

"Would that be bad?"

"Bad for you in the long term." Tabitha replied, "And bad for me."

"How come?"

"I love you, Jason but we're not right for each other."

"I suppose so," I replied, noting the incongruity but feeling a little vulnerable. It's not often that girls declared their love for me, even at 21 years of age.

"So, Sarah and I fucking thing is ok with you?" I asked, not caring for the reply.

"Sure. When Sarah told me, I came over all funny."

"What do you mean?"

"You know. Down there!" Replied Tabitha, her head pointing to the apex of her denim skirt.

"What did you do about it?" I asked, expectantly.

"What do you mean?" asked Tabitha, a little befuddled.

"Did you pleasure yourself, afterwards?"

"Pleasure myself?" Asked a confused elven princess.

"Yes, you know," I answered, motioning my head to her crotch.

"I don't know how to." Said Tabitha flushed in embarrassment.

"But I thought you and Sarah..."

"No, we just kiss and fondle each other occasionally," Said Tabitha pitifully, clearly out of her comfort zone, "Boobs, mainly and perhaps a touch between the legs. Nothing more than that."

Tabitha's revelation about her lesbian action was more than I had ever experienced personally at that point in my life but the admission that she (and Sarah, no doubt) had never masturbated before, or didn't know how to, sent blood flowing to my groin instantly. However, I needed an opening to regain the intimacy we enjoyed when Tabitha had arrived earlier that evening.

"I need to pee, again." Announced Tabitha, in a transparent attempt to change the subject. She got up and rather than go through the house as she did the first time, Tabitha walked the short distance to the external door at the end of the deck that led to the toilet and the bathroom. It was locked, of course, as a security measure.

"Go the long way," I said, with amusement.

"Too far."

"Here?" I motioned to the deck on which we were sitting.

At this point, I noticed the blistering ethanol that Tabitha had been imbibing was taking effect. She stood, with her back to the external door, and shot me a sultry look and shook her hips in time with Ritchie Blackmore's raw 70's rock riffs.

"No. Of course not." Came a smiling reply.

"Where then?"

Tabitha stood up straight and arched her back against the locked door to the toilet. She caught my gaze in her steely grasp and walked up to me, swaying her shapely hips. My feet were still resting against the steel balustrade; I had a beer in hand, a hardening tumescence, and an expression of hopeful expectation on my face. She leaned down to me and whispered, "Why don't I do what I caught you doing when I arrived?"

Holy fuck, yes!

Here was my opening to a night of spectacular sex if I played my hand correctly. However, my level of drunkenness was a factor in my level of success, so I had to keep calm and curb my enthusiasm.

It wasn't easy.

"Please, be my guest," I stammered while motioning my right hand towards the terraced garden below in an expansive gesture.

Tabitha leaned down and kissed me fully on the lips, one arm around my shoulder and her acid-tasting tongue diving deep into my mouth.

She broke the kiss, "What do I do?"

Her tone was hesitant, even frightened and yet she was determined.

I placed my beer can on the deck and stood up. I put my hands around Tabitha's slim waist, at which she exhaled. I put my head against her right ear and breathed in her ear. "Do it right here."

I suggested without the slightest expectation of success.

Tabitha shuddered in my grip and, no doubt blushed at my suggestion. I wished this young adult to break free from the stunted conventions of her environment and embrace notions of sensuality, sexuality and kink. I'm sure my own eyes were as wide as plates at this turn of events.

"No," stuttered an utterly scared Tabitha but not entirely definite.

"In the garden?" I offered as I kissed her exotic skin. I became severely hard.

"No," Came Tabitha's reply. Well, not here and not in the garden then how or where?

"Then what?" I asked, desperately searching for options.

After a delay that seemed to last the ages, Tabitha, after thinking somewhat, said, "From the chair."

"What do you mean?" I asked, bemused and, in hindsight, a little naïve.

"I want to sit on the chair and do it," replied the ethanol scented Tabitha. "But I want you to help me."

"How?" I asked, thinking that a divergence of outcome was occurring.

Without responding, Tabitha straightened up and, with deft handling, removed her denim skirt and discarded her panties. The alcohol, as it always did, gave Tabitha sexual confidence that she lacked when sober. So, at this instant, she was naked from the waist below, but her magnificent breasts remained concealed behind some annoying clothes. I was fully clothed but as hard as a stick of rock, and breathless in anticipation of what would happen next.

"I want to do what you did. Go over the balcony."

"You reckon you can beat me?" I asked, trying to tempt Tabitha into a pissing contest.

At my suggestion, Tabitha clutched her bladder and began rocking on the balls of her feet indicating that she really, REALLY, needed to piss.

I stood up and embraced Tabitha lightly but motioned her on to the chair that she had been sitting in earlier. I knelt down in between her legs and positioned myself within inches of her hairy slit. I grabbed Tabitha's left leg and placed her ankle on the steel balustrade and did the same with the right. I was now in front of and facing, Tabitha and her pulsing slit. She needed to pee, and I was the director of the next scene.

"Off you go," I said, smiling at her confused face.

"What here and now?"

"Of course, go for it."

"I can't. Not with you there."

"Why not?"

"Because! Because, it's...rude." She said with a youthful giggle, on the cusp of doing something else considered at the time, and now, as taboo.

"So what?"

"But I'll hit you."

"Hit me?"

"Yes, when it comes out. You might get wet."

Of course, I would, and I was counting on it. At that point in life, I had experienced golden showers once before, but the other party wasn't at all into it. The concept, as far as I understood it from the grainy vision of pirated copies of Videorama scud flicks appealed to me as did my rapidly blooming obsession with anal sex.

"Don't worry, I won't get wet. Besides, from this vantage point, I'll be able to tell whether you beat me."

"Beat you?"

"Yes, whether you can pee further than me."

"Oh, ok!" Tabitha laughed shaking her head, no doubt as red as a beetroot.

As we were conversing, I became acutely aware of the fragrance emanating from Tabitha's furry cup so close to my face. I was tempted to dive straight in with my tongue, but I knew that she was desperate to pee and that the pressure must have been uncomfortable.

"Off you go then, whenever you're ready."

"I can't. There's too much pressure." She replied, laughing again.

"Pressure here?" I asked, using a hand to exert pressure on her belly. Tabitha squirmed uncomfortably. "Or pressure to do it in front of me?

"Both, or neither. I don't know."

"Shall I leave you to it?"

"Erm...no," She answered, hesitantly. "If you leave, how will you know whether I beat you or not?"

"Beat me?" I enquired with false sincerity.

To help her along, I began kissing the inside of her thigh thinking it would relax her.

"That's making it worse." She laughed.

"Ok, I'll stop. Just close your eyes. Ignore me and relax. Just let it flow and don't worry about me."

"I'll try." Came a pathetic reply.

However, she tried her best to apply my advice. She closed her eyes, tilted her head to the side, and I felt her whole body go limp. My eyes immediately darted back to her pussy, and I waited with bated breath.

At first, I noticed a spasm; her luscious pussy lips contracted inwards in the blink of an eye. Then I saw a few droplets of fragrant piss escape her folds and pool on the edge of her seat. Here it comes I thought to myself, as hard as a diamond beneath my pants.

Sure enough, the few droplets gave way to a steady, if sporadic, a stream of yellow nectar close enough to my nose for me to be able to smell its musky scent. Tabitha's eyes were still closed, concentrating on relaxing her plumbing muscles to enable the piss to flow.

A couple of vigorous squirts followed but because her lips were closed, the liquid sprayed out rather than streamed, and I copped some flak on the chin. Using my right hand, I reached forward and gently parted her lips. This action startled Tabitha, and the stream ended abruptly.

"Just relax, hun," I said, soothingly. Tabitha closed her eyes again, and I was able to see her pussy wide open. The stream of piss soon restarted and it became very focussed, at first pooling on the deck timbers before the pressure of expulsion created an arc that cleared the boundary of the deck and rained into the garden below. The picture painted by this nubile elf, legs spread with my fingers parting her swollen lips and pissing in the open can well be imagined. I was entranced, staring intently at Tabitha's pussy, taking in shallow breaths while sparks of electricity surged through my taut body. Seeing such a filthy act that I'd only ever seen on glorious CRT pirated videos playing out live was an assault on the senses unlike any other.