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Click here"Tamara, pizza!"
"Fucks sake!" The relief stops abruptly. Frustration bites her lip.
"I'm tryin' take a leek, y' fuckers!"
"'Ere get some o' this in yer gob 'n shut up!"
A slice of hot pizza is suddenly dumped into her mouth.
"I'm tryin' to take a piss 'ere!" She almost manages to shout at the offender with her mouthful of food, then brakes into a laugh and rolling wave of merriment washing through her. "Whoohoo...!" She no longer cares, fuck it, and her fingers drop the hem of her knickers to take hold of the pizza slice, hot melted cheese 'n pepperoni oozes into her mouth and a sudden famished feeling wells up from inside. But she hasn't forgotten how busting she was just seconds ago as her bladder pipes up to remind her of her obligation with a pang of pain.
"Oh god!" She exclaims as she cave's to the inevitable, not wanting to drop the pizza slice, one hand steadying her thanks to the bumper of the car to her left she tilts her head skywards and let's go, gushing like a torrent between two stationary cars as her pee sprays out through the perforations of her cheap, one night stand knickers. And like a nod to so many Saturday nights since almost the dawn of time, Tamara howls out at the moon for all it could care.
"I don't fuckin', care, cause I'm gettin' married!" She yells, shouting as loud as she can in a gesture of reckless abandon before suddenly dropping what's left of the pizza face down in the flood, dough soaking up as much as it can of the luke warm liquid before it drowns inevitably in the sordid nights pleasures off the tarmac.
And she laughs under the mad moon.
"Get her some more wine!" Someone shouts.
"Prosecco!" She shouts back. "I want, Pros-ecco yer slag, fuckers!" Her speech trails off and all at once there's a bottle of Prosecco? Wine? Who cares, pushed to her lips then tilted much too high as the contents glug out onto her face, and spill over her lips, running down her neck, and her top as she slurps and coughs.
"Bloody hell Amelia now look what you've made me do!" That sends them both into hysterics and Tamara rolls backwards, legs in the air for all to see, wet all down her front...all the way. But right there in that moment, well she's too lost in it to care and high as the proverbial kite.
She manages to sit. "Give us some more o' that, what is it, Prosecco....stuff..."
"Yea it's Prosecco Tamara and you've been drinking it practically all evening." She manages to reply.
"Have I?" Tamara is now officially and comedically pissed. Squawking laughter rings out around her.
"What a fucking state!" Comes one of the more level headed in the bunch.
"Come on now Tamara on your feet, we're headed back now. Come on."
Well she must have blacked out somewhere as the next thing she knows she's being half carried, half pushed up some strange staircase.
"Wher'...am I?" She stumbles over the words as they struggle from her sozzled lips.
"We're in a b+b in Torquay Tamata."
An outbreak of sniggers arrests the struggling group.
"Don't call me Tomato or I'll punch yer bloody lights out!" She hits back, and the four women struggle up the last steps before collapsing through a doorway, just as a strange voice pipes up. "I hope you won't be needing anything in the night?" A thin elderly man appears at the landing. "No we're totally fine thanks Mr Stan...." "Wo's his name?"
While they all attempt to stifle their mirth with varying success, a leg kicks out at the door and slams it shut.
Tamara is in a heap, sprawled over two beds pulled together. A tangled and chaotic mesh of body's, limbs, chest and hair, and the fumes of alcohol burdened innards silently doing overtime on enough drink to fill a bath, almost.
"Night Tamara!"
"Sleep tight darlin', mmwa....! A drunken kiss on the lips from her friend is all the encouragement she needs and she falls instantly and forgettingly into a deep, and comatose slumber.
Somewhere, maybe on a big, white plane....and at the Prosecco again over a vast blue ocean....Tamara sits in her dream, next to the man she loves, Simon, the man she just got married to.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 2 months agoEnjoyable story of pre wedding debauchery northern UK style! Quite a busy story
TheHat90012 months agoThe mistakes I guess PervertedKnight spotted in the first half-dozen paragraphs, if you still want to know, are: “too” for “to,” “her self” for “herself,” “buddy’s” and “party’s” for “buddies” and “parties,” “of coarse” for “of course,” and “down hill” for “downhill.” They aren’t British English; they’re errors. Then on this page, we have “take a leek” (take it to chop it up and put it on the pizza?). Seriously, an editor would really help you polish your work.
hicountryriderover 2 years agoI'm afraid this is porn concept Character originality and development and a complete disappointment at the end.
I applaud you for warning to write but is this the best you can do?
bownchimeover 2 years agoAuthorTo the last comment. I can't find any spelling mistakes in the first half dozen paragraphs, either you're having trouble with spelling yourself or the subtle nuances of British dialects are new to you.
PervertedKnightover 2 years ago2 stars. There were so many misspelled words in just the first several paragraphs that I had to quit reading this. Please get a competent editor.
