It Doesn't Get Any Better Than That (unpublished)

It Doesn't Get Any Better Than That.

Maccy had finished his unpacking and had a shower while Pilch sat on
the balcony in the sun, smoking a couple of fags. Now Pilch was in the
shower. He said he was only having one because he needed a wank. He'd
also said he'd use Maccy's towel to mop up his man-milk when Maccy told
him to clean up after he'd done it. He was a messy bastard. Didn't take
care of his clothes like Maccy did. His shiny black shirt and beige
Armani jeans were hanging in the wardrobe ready for tonight (then he
could wear them at the end of the week as well, when he had a bit of a
tan, and he'd look even better.) Pilch's bag had been emptied onto the
floor when he got his towel out. It would probably stay like that until
they left.
Maccy wandered onto the balcony. A shadow was moving across it as the
sun disappeared behind their block. Pilch had done one thing then -
he'd draped his York City Union Jack from the balcony. Maccy looked up,
down and along, but couldn't see detail
on any of the other flags. Most of them looked like the British,
English, Welsh or Scottish flags though. No Germans that he could see.
He straightened his towel over the top of the flag. It was safe from
Pilch here.
"Maccy!"
Pilch was shouting from the shower, through the open window.
"Pilch! What?"
"Door! I can't get it, I'm just about tu come!"
Maccy slid open the balcony door and went inside. He could hardly see
a thing after coming in from the brightness outside. As he opened the
apartment door, a couple of cans fizzed open and started spraying
towards him. He turned and ran inside as Gilly and Daz ran in after
him, shaking their duty free Fosters.
"Come on yu bastards! Let's 'ave a fuckin' party!"
Maccy ran onto the balcony and slid the door shut. The cans sprayed
the room as Gilly and Daz laughed. The lager had gone all over him, all
over the room, the beds and all over Pilch's clothes. Maccy was glad he
hadn't put his smart clothes on yet and was still just in his
shorts.
The cans were now just dribbling. Daz was drinking his, Gilly got the
rest of the tray from outside the door.
"Where's Pilch?"
"Shower."
It wasn't going now, so he must have finished.
"Maccy!"
Maccy caught the can and opened it.
"Cheers!"
As they all raised their cans, the bathroom door opened and Pilch came
running at them with his arms outstretched. He was naked, with a fading
hard on.
"Come on yu bastards! Let's 'ave a fuckin' party!"
Maccy ducked under his arms and locked himself in the bathroom. Daz
ran to the apartment door and was poised to leg it down the corridor.
Pilch chased Gilly onto the balcony.
"Pilcher! You fuckin' dare! Any o' that touches me, I'll throw you off
this fuckin' balcony!"
As Pilch hesitated, he ran inside and locked the door.
"Thought yu needed a bit more gel!"
Pilch was outside in the buff, but he didn't give a shit if anyone saw
him. He wiped the semen off his hands with Maccy's towel and held them
up to the glass for inspection. His hands were clear, but there was
still a little pearl attached to his Japseye. Daz pointed to it as he
came back from the door.
"What about that?"
Pilcher looked down, wiped the blob onto the glass and said, "I'm
clean.". They let him in and he laughed as he silently told them to
keep quiet about Maccy's towel.
"You are fuckin' disgustin'!" Daz laughed.
Maccy came out of the bathroom slowly, making sure the coast was clear
first.
"Why did I 'ave tu share a room wi that twat?"
"Cos we've all done it before. We know what he's like."
"Fuck me, I've got a week o' this!"
The rest of the lads had all turned up in the room. It always seemed to
be Pilch's room because no-one else wanted their own messed up. They
were reminiscing about past holidays: - some girl puking on MC's shirt
in Corfu; Teaser waking up naked on a sun-lounger with the sun up and
families on the beach in Benidorm; Gilly getting into a fight with an
Exeter fan, not over football, but because Gilly wouldn't move from in
front of the mirror in a club toilets; Tommo fucking some girl on the
beach and MC and Gav swearing they saw her next day with her mum and
dad, and she looked about twelve; Pilch going down on some fat bird
under the table of a Magaluf bar; and especially the time Maccy walked
into a bedroom in Tenerife to find Casey shagging a girl and three of
the others standing around the bed wanking, waiting their turn. They'd
all told and heard the stories a million times, but still didn't get
bored of them. They were now folklore. Legends. There were plenty more
involving two of them fucking two girls in their room, with one
pretending to keep going after he'd come just because the other one was
still at it. Then finding out afterwards that they were both keeping
going because neither wanted to be the first to finish.
"So, what we bettin' this year then?" Teaser asked.
"Fifty quid each? Or whatever that is over 'ere. I 'aven't worked it
out yet."
They all agreed on fifty eventually. Some people had points just for
kissing. The lads didn't. It was shags or blow-jobs only. One point
each. Winner takes all. More points could be awarded for special cases,
such as Pilcher's five points for licking out the fat girl. Public
disgraces always scored well. You could also offer someone a few points
for getting off with some ugly slapper. This meant anyone could win.
Gilly, the vain bastard, always did quite well, so did Daz, but others
were a bit fatter, uglier or balder, so things had to be evened up a
bit.
Gilly had to sort his hair out again, Maccy had to have another shower,
and then they were out. Eight bottles of beer to chase down eight
measures of the local spirit. Same every year, depending on how many
made it. Some, like Gav, had stopped coming because they'd got married,
or had kids or whatever. Some never would stop. Casey had been married
for years, it didn't stop him coming, a little rounder and his hair
having receded a little more every time.
The hot day had turned into a warm, clear night by the time they hit
their fourth bar. Everyone was getting into the swing of it now. They
were sat around a table, filling the surface with empty bottles and
shot glasses, laughing at how you could tell how long people had been
on the island by how brown they were. Most of the lads were white
because this was their first night. There were people who must have
been there a few days because they were lobstered. The lads took the
piss out of them, even though most of them would be red soon, not being
the type to care too much about sun cream. The ones who had been there
a week or two were brown, and usually wore clothes to show it off, lots
of white gear, the girls especially. Then there were those who worked
on the island for the season, who were almost black by now. The only
people you couldn't tell were the ones who cheated by going on a
sun-bed before they left (mostly girls and Gilly) and the ginners who
always stayed ginger and white. MC knew now that girls who looked
orange weren't tanned, but covered in foundation. There was usually a
line along their jaws where the orange turned back to white on their
necks.
"See her? She's just got 'ere. Foundation face! Look at it!"
They all turned to look, laugh and shout at the girl.
"We know it's not real!"
"Oi love, yur tan's runnin'!"
MC carried on.
"Remember that bird I got off wi in Leeds? Said she'd been on 'oliday?
Ruined me fuckin' white t-shirt, din't she!"
"Aye, it were bright orange, weren't it? She must o' been caked in
it!"
"Wun't o' minded if I'd got a fuck out of it!"
Every girl that came past was shouted at, nice or not. And there were
plenty of fit ones. Maccy had the best seat, facing the door. He could
see them all coming in.
"Fuuuck meeeee!"
Seven heads turned to face the same direction he was. Two girls had
just come in. They both had short dresses on over great bodies. That
was the first thing the lads noticed. The one on the left had long,
straight dark hair with a strappy turquoise dress just covering her
knickers. It was almost transparent. You could see the darker colour of
her nipples through it. She wasn't wearing a bra, although the size of
her tits, you'd think she needed one. She was also wearing turquoise
trainers, but none of them looked that far down. Her mate had long,
straight blonde hair with the same dress, but in orange. Her tits
weren't as big, but none of the lads would have complained. They didn't
look at her orange trainers either. Both of them were very tanned, and
gorgeous. They could have been Page 3 models. They walked like models
down the catwalk alongside the bar. The lads stood to watch them,
shouting things like "Get your tits out!" and "I could park me fuckin'
bike in there!". They even smiled as they walked past. Maccy thought it
was at him.
"Fuckin' 'ell, good spot Maccy!"
"Look at 'im! Yu're in love, aren't yu!"
Maccy still stared at the pillar they'd disappeared behind.
"Wow. They smiled at me an' all, did yu see 'em?"
"Fuck off! They were smilin' at me!"
They spent ten minutes arguing, eight lads claiming the smiles were
meant for them, until Tommo wondered how many points having the two of
them together would be worth. It varied between ten and ten
thousand.
Maccy drained his bottle and got up.
"I'm gonna get 'em in."
"Maccy, siddown, you just got a round." Teaser waved him back to his
seat.
"Nah, it's alright, I'll get 'em. I've finished mine."
"Yu're gonna chat them birds up aren't yu!" Casey had sussed him out.
They all laughed. But they had looked at him when they were smiling, he
knew it. Besides, he had to move fast before Gilly or someone else made
a move. None of them thought he had a chance. Maccy wasn't a bad
looking bloke, not that any of them would ever admit it, but he'd never
get anywhere with either of those two. No chance.
Maccy walked around the pillar and saw the dresses at the opposite side
of the rectangular bar to the lads' table. He took a deep breath and
walked up to them, standing almost between the barstools they were sat
on.
"Can I get you a drink girls?"
The dark haired one put her glass down and smiled at him.
"Can if you want, but we get them free in yurr anyway,"
He'd expected them to be Swedish or something, but she sounded Welsh.
Not quite as exotic, but they still looked it.
"How come?" - he couldn't decide which one to look at. He was in a
great position, staring right down their tits.
"They give free drinks to gurrls. They reh-ckon it brings the boys in,
see." - the blonde one said with a cheeky smile. Fucking hell, they
were both horny. Really horny. Maccy raised his eyebrows and
smiled.
"Do yu think it works then?"
They both laughed. He was doing well here.
"Where yu from then?"
"Cardiff." - she pronounced it 'Caerdiff'.
"Well, near there." - the dark one said.
The barman was looking at him, so Maccy asked for eight beers, holding
up eight fingers to make sure he'd be understood. He didn't know the
barman was from King's Lynn.
"Yu must o' been 'ere a while then." - he nodded at their legs. They
both had them crossed towards him. If he bent down, he'd be able to see
right up their dresses.
"All summer."
"All over tans are they?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" - the dark one put her hand on his arm as
she said it. Yes he would like to know. In fact, he'd kill to
know.
"Is it good 'ere, like?"
"Oh, we've had a brill-yant time, haven't we?" - the dark one asked the
blonde one, and they both smiled knowingly.
"What about you?"
"Just got 'ere today." - Maccy pulled one of many notes out of his
wallet, which was full of all his foreign money and handed it to the
barman.
"That's where yu got to!" - Pilch had come around the bar. "Where's
bogs in 'ere?"
The barman pointed them out.
"Ta. Hold me beer. Yu could put it in there tu keep it warm!" - he
pointed at the dark girls cleavage and went for a piss.
Maccy shook his head in embarrassment, but the girls just giggled. They
must have been used to it.
"Yeah, like I say, we all just got 'ere this aft. Can't yu tell by me
tan?"
They looked at each other and laughed like it was something they'd
already been talking about. He had to keep this going. They both had
studs in their noses.
"Did it hurt gettin' yur noses pierced?"
"No, not really. Your beh-llybutton did, didn't it?"
"Yeah, but not as much as my lip!" - they nearly wet themselves on
their stools.
"But you 'aven't got your lip pierced." - not that Maccy could
see.
"Not the ones on my face, I haven't!"
"Fuckin' 'ell." - Maccy raised his eyebrows. This was great, he had to
keep them talking like this.
"But dun't that, like, ?." - he could think of lots of questions about
this - "Dun't it catch on yur knickers?". That was the least offensive
one he could think up. The dark one uncrossed her legs, stood on the
footrest of her stool, put her hand on his shoulder and whispered
sexily in his ear.
"(We're not wearin' any knickers)."
He nearly bolted in his pants.
Maccy was stumped to follow that one. Luckily, Pilch came back from the
toilet as she sat back on her stool.
"I've just drained the train." - he picked up seven of the fresh beers
and his old one and headed back to the table with a wink.
Maccy heard shouts. He looked over and saw seven heads peering around
the pillar. Shouts of 'Go on lad!', 'Get in there!' and 'Save one for
me yu greedy bastard!'. They were all doing the lizard tongues, making
the blow-job sign with their tongues in their cheeks, or giving him the
hand on the inside of the elbow and fist up fuck sign.
"That your friends? Bad luck."
"Aye, I'm afraid it is."
"Do you wanna give 'em something to shout about?" - the dark one asked
over her straw.
"Eh?"
"Shall we go down the beach?"
"What? Well?yeah!"
Maccy hadn't been sure which one of them he preferred until now. He
normally liked blondes, but loved big tits as well. That question
definitely swung the vote in favour of the dark one.
"Shall we just finish our drinks first?"
He'd never downed a bottle of beer so fast in his life. It was quicker
than pouring it down the sink. He just sucked it all out of the bottle
like an anteater sucking ants.
The girls laughed again.
"I didn't mean you, I meant us finish our drinks!"
"Eh?"
"(We're both coming down the beach with you.)" - the blonde one
whispered to him with a wicked look in her eye.
This was too good to be true. Maccy was almost worried. But not worried
enough for his raging hard-on to subside any as he walked awkwardly out
of the bar with them. The lads were all laughing. They thought he was
pretending to follow them as they left. They shouted 'Hard luck Maccy!'
and 'Nice try mate!' at him. But when the bouncers opened the doors for
them, the girls both waited for him, linked arms and waved to the lads
as they headed out. Maccy just had time to turn around and look at them
all. A bullet through the head wouldn't have shut them up any quicker,
or surprised them as much as this. Maccy shrugged at their open mouths
and the doors shut behind him as he turned forwards. All the people at
the outside tables were looking at him, it felt great. Then they turned
quickly to look at the door as a roar erupted inside the bar. It got
louder as the bouncers opened the doors to see what was happening.
Maccy could hear the cheering and applause, he knew it was meant for
him, but he wasn't turning around any more.
On the way to the beach, he asked them their names to try to make
conversation, but the blonde one asked him "What do you need to know
our names for?", and that was the end of the chat.
They walked through the narrow streets of the old town towards the
beach. All the punters were shouting at him and them on the way. They
crossed the beach road, walked through the palm trees and down onto the
sand, heading into the darkness. The noise of the street grew fainter,
and they could hear the small waves hitting the wet sand. They walked
along the empty beach towards the rocks at the end. Maccy wanted to
stop right there, but the girls carried on until the lights of the town
disappeared behind the rocks. This was it. It was really
happening.
He could only just tell them apart in the starlight. The dark one had
moved behind him and was pressing her tits into his back as her hands
moved slowly across his chest to undo his shirt buttons. The blonde one
was moving her hands down his sides to his jeans and feeling slowly
along his belt to the buckle. He heard it come undone. His shirt was
half-open, and the dark one hugged him tight and began to stroke his
nipples. Maccy didn't know which bit was turning him on the most. He
wasn't thinking anything. He was just feeling and watching. His dick
was doing all the thinking.
More buttons on his shirt popped open. The zip on his jeans came down
slowly at first, as his boner forced it outwards. Once it was over that
part, it slid down easily and the sound was beautiful. His shirt was
flapping open and his arms went back as the dark one slid it from under
his arms. She laid it gently on the sand next to them. It was his best
shirt, expensive, but he didn't care about it right now. They both
tugged his jeans down to his knees, from where they fell to his ankles
unaided. Maccy kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans. The
blonde one moved them away and put them on top of his shirt.
"Get them off and lie down." - the dark one ordered.
Maccy obeyed and pulled his boxers out and down, stepping out of them,
leaving only his socks on. He could feel the breeze from the sea. It
felt cool on his skin. His body was so hot, he felt like he'd been
sunburnt. Maccy felt exposed standing up, so he sat down. The sand was
cold and felt wet. It didn't matter. He was looking up at them,
silhouetted against the stars.
"Lie back."
Maccy's back touched the sand. The dark one loomed over his face. He
could see right up her dress. She was moving down to sit on his
chest.
"Fuuuuckin' 'ellll?"
She was on her knees on the sand, her hands holding his by the side of
his head, pressing them down. She was moving up his chest! She was
going to sit on his face! The blonde one was feeling up his shins.
Maccy could feel the hairs on his legs being pulled tight as her hands
worked their way up, running up to his thighs. She was forcing his legs
open. The dark one was almost on top of him, now holding his wrists. He
was desperate to taste her pussy, see if the piercing made any
difference. He imagined he could smell her, imagined he could see the
ring through her labia. Her knees came down onto his arms, pinning him
down. He could feel the soft, smooth skin on her inner thighs against
his shoulders. He wanted to shout 'Suck it!' to the blonde one, but a
hand came over his mouth. The blonde one was holding his thighs apart.
Surely she was just about to
"Aaaagh!" - he screamed in pain, but the hand over his mouth muffled
the noise. He'd been kicked in the bollocks. It was agony. The weight
left his upper body as the dark one jumped up. Maccy rolled into the
foetal position, holding his throbbing tackle. He moaned and sobbed,
getting a mouthful of sand. There was a buzzing in his ears, like the
noise of a stormy sea, which drowned out all other sound. He couldn't
hear the girls running off along the beach.
When the pain died down enough for Maccy to open his eyes, he realised
they'd gone. He was still rolling from side to side in the sand, then
sitting up and rocking backwards and forwards, hands still holding his
sore genitals. He was so shocked, he couldn't do anything but call them
"Fuckin' bitches". He didn't understand. Until he noticed his clothes
had gone.
"No-hoh-hohhh!" - Maccy screamed in a high-pitched voice. What the fuck
was he meant to do now? He looked back with screwed eyes, but couldn't
see anything apart from rocks. Getting to his feet gingerly, he began
to walk back along the sand, bent double like an old man, having to
stop occasionally with his hands on his knees. The lights of the town
came into view, but he couldn't see any sign of those bitches. There
were people walking along the back of the beach. Maccy didn't know what
to do. He couldn't walk out and back to the bar in just his socks!
They'd all laugh at him. He thought for a minute or two and decided to
run up to one of the shops across the road and steal something, a
towel, a skirt, anything. If they complained, he could tell them he'd
be back with money in a minute. Surely they'd understand. It was either
that or go into the bar naked. The lads were going to piss themselves
either way. He couldn't get into their apartment block without a key,
and didn't fancy hiding in the bushes until the lads came back. That
could be hours, even longer if they all pulled. And if anyone found him
hiding there, he'd have difficulty explaining it to the local police.
He'd look like a right sex-pest. Similarly, he couldn't wait until
someone else opened the door. Would you let a man wearing just a pair
of socks into your place? He was fucked all ends up.
He decided to get on with it instead of prolonging the agony by
thinking too much about it. If he did that, he was liable to start
crying any minute. He wished he was like Pilch. If this happened to
him, he'd have come back naked and laughing about it.
As he walked up towards the nearest part of the road, he saw them. Not
the girls, but his clothes. They were in a pile on the wall at the side
of the path. Thank fuck, Thank fuck, Thank fuck.
Maccy crept up to the pile, his balls still sore. The sore feeling had
spread to his stomach now. His tubes must have been full from all the
little fellas trying to escape. They'd be sore just from the kick, but
with the added on pain from sexual frustration on top, it was agony. He
was almost puking. Finding his boxers, he used them as a rag to wipe
sand from his back and arse. Everything else seemed to be there,
including his wallet. They must have done it for a laugh. Weird
bitches. No doubt they'd be back at the bar telling all the lads.
Still, at least he had his clothes now, and didn't have to walk in
there wearing a pink bikini.
With all his clothes on, Maccy checked his pockets. Keys, yep. Wallet,
yep. Hang on! It felt a bit thin! He pulled it out and opened it
up.
"BASTAAAAAARDD!"
The people across the road looked over and shook their heads. The
British tourists walking around laughed at him. He'd been robbed. All
his fucking holiday money, about four hundred quid. Four hundred
fucking sovs. It sounded even worse in local money. If he ever saw
those whores again, he was going to kill them. He had a week to find
them, and no money to do anything else. He knew he'd never see them
around that bar again. The lads would back him up on this one.
Actually, they'd probably just piss themselves, the cunts.
It took Maccy thirty minutes to find the bar. He'd had other things on
his mind on the walk to the beach and didn't take any notice of the
way. The streets of the old town all looked the same, and he couldn't
ask anyone because he didn't know the name of the bar. He was getting
angrier by the minute on the slow walk around the town. He had to walk
with his legs apart to stop his conkers being squashed any more. He was
getting the same amount of looks as he did on the way down to the
beach, but instead of 'Which aftershave does he wear?', someone asked
him if he'd lost his donkey. That didn't help his mood. Neither did the
thought that if they'd just taken a bit of his money, he'd never have
mentioned it to anyone out of embarrassment. Now he had to if he wanted
to borrow some money for the rest of the week.
He thought the lads might not be there, but they'd all waited for him,
because they wanted to find out what had happened. The bouncers opened
both doors for him and the lads saw him immediately. They'd watched
everyone coming in since he'd left. They all stood up, cheering and
clapping and Gilly ran over with a beer. They all asked questions at
once and Maccy just shook his head until they fell silent, hanging on
his words.
"You won't fuckin' believe what just 'appened!"
More cheering.
Then he saw them. They walked around the bar with big smiles on their
faces. Right up to him. He was too stunned to speak. So were the lads.
They obviously hadn't seen the girls come in. They must have come in
another way. The cheeky fucking bitches! The blonde one held his face
in her hands, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him slowly on his
lips.
"Thanks."
The dark one did the same and ran her fingers down his shirt as she
walked around him.
"See you."
As they walked out of the door, the cheering nearly blew the roof off.
The girls waved goodbye to them all as the bouncers held the door open.
The lads were going mental!
"You lucky bastard!"
"You've got half the fuckin' beach in yur ears!"
"Look at' state o' yur hair!"
They were clapping him on the back and everything.
"'Ang on, 'ang on!" - Daz quietened them down. Then he pulled his
wallet out, counted the equivalent of fifty quid out and slapped it on
the table.
"Nobody's gonna beat that! It dun't get any better that that! We might
as well pay up now!"
They all got their wallets out.
"Wait a minute! Yu din't pay 'em tu do that, did yu Maccy?"
"Not quite Case." - Maccy laughed. Tommo collected up the money and
handed it to him.
"Your round then Maccy. Then yu can tell us what went on."
Maccy took the money and went to the bar. He had a couple of minutes to
think up a story. That was easy. His tale would be what he wanted to
happen, what he'd fantasised happening, what he'd probably be wanking
over at some point in the future when his balls recovered. It would get
embellished at every telling through the night. It was already part of
their holiday folklore. They'd be telling this one every time they met
up without fail. In a few years, the girls would probably turn into
Swedish porn stars in the tale. And it might not even be Maccy who
remembered it that way. Someone else would do it for him. They all
loved it almost as much as he would have done if it had turned out the
way the lads thought. The girls might be able to live of this one for a
few weeks (and he'd got nearly all his money back straight away), but
Maccy would live off this one forever. Just like all the ones it had
happened to before him that summer would be doing.