An Unlikely Threesome/ Friday Girl Part 1

Finally ready to hand in my final assignment for the year. My first ever fictional short story. Behind every story is an element of truth, the rest is up to your imagination.

Introducing part 1 of 2 of An Unlikey Threesome or Friday Girl whichever title you prefer. Enjoy. 

*

I’m sitting on one of two brown leather chairs. His body is merely inches away from mine. He begins to disrobe revealing a perfectly sculpted physique, the product of extreme discipline and countless hours of training. His job as a television presenter placed particular emphasis on the aesthetic appeal, lucky for his career this man was basically flawless apart from a back injury he had sustained as a teenager. After all, that is why he is here at this swanky wellness clinic on the outskirts of Sydney. What about me? What is my role in this charade? The supportive girlfriend, the compassionate lover or just a curious bystander? The latter makes me smile.

I lean back into the warm embrace of the leather chair, crossing my legs confidently. It is all a lie. Bill removes his tobacco coloured chinos and I somehow manage to stifle a giggle as the outline of his sizeable bulge comes into sight. I must seem in control of the situation even though I’m not. I brush back several long strands of chestnut brown hair and glare up at him suggestively. I can tell that he is pleased with my enthusiasm and as long as he is satisfied then maybe I can stay in his life a little longer.

Suddenly, a tall, olive skinned man in a crisp white shirt enters the room and greets Bill with a warm familiarity. His gaze turns to me, we lock eyes and his narrow as he sees how uneasy I am in my surroundings. The earnest smile he has reserved for Bill is suddenly replaced with a curious grin. I am momentarily disorientated. This young man cannot be Bill’s chiropractor, can he? His black hair is dutifully tamed and his formal attire makes me feel painfully casual in my blue jeans. Although he isn’t conventionally attractive, something about his manner instantly engages me.

We exchange greetings briefly before the two men dive into something that resembles a rehearsed performance rather than a formal consultation.

“So what brings you here today, Sarah? The opportunity to see Bill in a fair bit of pain?” The chiropractor playfully questions as he stands behind Bill and assesses the contour of his spine.

Bill gives me a discrete wink, yet remains solid like a heroic renaissance sculpture with his arms crossed over his chest.

I’m not a permanent fixture in Bill’s life, unlike a childhood friend or an old flame. I’m not even the beginning of something spectacular like a new love. Bill has an ex wife and I barely have a university degree. I am unattainable to him and he is completely off bounds for me. At first this was the light in our lives, the excitement that followed me everywhere but I had noticed in recent weeks that Bill was fast reaching his plateau. I was no longer challenging him or urging him to chase me, instead I was giving in to my femininity, my desire to be loved. I knew very well that if I continued to show my vulnerability, Bill would soon stray. I had tried to break it off several times before but that just fueled his desire more. If this infatuation was to end and it would eventually end, it would be on his terms. I would be left emotional wounded and he would find someone more attractive and less of an emotional liability to accompany him to his routine appointments.

Bill is now lying face down on the drop table and the chiropractor who I notice has very muscular forearms is cupping Bill’s head with his hands. I wince as I hear Bill’s neck crack and my eyes immediately fall to the floor as if not allowing myself to see such a strong man in a moment of weakness.

“You’re not doing a very good job at distracting him from the pain” the chiropractor laughs, commanding my attention back to the table of death. I’m still not entirely convinced that this man is a certified practitioner let alone the ‘genius’ responsible for fixing Bill’s back. Although Bill lived in the Eastern Suburbs he didn’t act like it, but this guy did. The chiropractor eluded confidence and entitlement, traits that were probably responsible for getting him ahead of the game especially at such a young age.

After he finishes working on Bill’s upper body he repositions himself in front of Bills’s lower back, swiftly pulling down Bill’s briefs to expose a firm bare ass.  The chiropractor glimpses over to catch my expression yet somehow I managed to hold composure. I will not give him the satisfaction I tell myself sternly. With a lot of determination I remain tame on the surface, internally I’m losing my shit.

It then dawns on me, while I was contemplating my next move with Bill I had failed to realise that a new game had already begun. Bill lay motionless on the drop table and I decide to test the boundaries of this new game. I smile at the chiropractor, he smiles back. I feel a familiar, pleasurable tension shift down below and the warm leather begins to burn against my palms.

TBC... 

DD, Frisky Dupont and The Corner Suite

As I swing open the big black DH door I remember what it felt like to enter this dilapidated premises years ago. When I first moved in there was little sign of life in his house. Upon entering the long thin hallway looked dark and abandoned. The house smelt of mould and a thick layer of dust glimmered over every surface.

Although I still remember exactly how I felt when I first moved in, the ambiance is very different now.

The hallway is lined with vintage bikes and high heels scattered generously along the freshly painted skirtings. A fresh bunch of flowers sit on a mismatched table with an old issue of Vogue to accompany the arrangement.

Queen B pops out from from behind her door.

"The bitch is back" she chimes opening her arms and nearly strangling me to death.

We sit on her bed and she begins to tell me everything that I have missed in the last three days.

The Queens went to Love, Tilly Devine (a hidden cocktail bar in Darlinghurst) and met a young man who for the sake of this blog I'll call DD.

Queen B is beaming as she tells me about DD. From what I gather between bursts of 'ohmygod' and 'nofuckingway' he is a very successful business man, with several companies to his name and quite a healthy bank account. Now don't get me wrong this sort of resume never phases The Queens however something else had gotten Queen B's tongue wagging.

Apparently DD is notorious for enjoying polygamous relationships with groups of friends, he'd heard about The Dirthouse and wanted to know if he could live in The Dungeon (our spare room).

We were both in fits of laughter. Although he'd already met the other girls Queen B informed me that he was curious about 'the brunette' (me). This was one cocky mother fucker I thought to myself. There was also an open invitation for this weekend at his house in Double Bay.

I was happy to see that there was some interesting progress being made at The Dirthouse while I was away.

I picked up my bags and continued down the hallway into the living room where Queen K was pacing back and forth with what appears to be a script in hand.

"I went out into the showroom to mingle with guests and flirt with guys like I normally do, it helps them engage with me on stage." she recites seductively.

Once she notices I'm home we hug for what seems like eternity.

She fills me in on what's she's doing. Queen Q informs me that tomorrow she's acting for  small production, her character is a burlesque dancer named Frisky Dupont.

 I read the breakdown of the piece. Frisky Dupont sounds exactly like Queen K. 'She grew up in the suburbs in a middle class family as the youngest of three siblings, a brother and a sister...she was in a long term relationship with blah whom she met a year out of school and was jealous of her rather sexy routines.'

"This piece was written for you wasn't it?" I ask her.

"mmmm." she replies sheepishly, fully aware of what I'm talking about.

There's something going on there I think to myself but I'm too tired to perform any further investigation.

I head upstairs to the Queens quarters with my bags in toe. Queen L pounces as soon as I get to the top of the stairs. She's delighted to see me but I can't tell whether it's because she genuinely is or she's just a little drunk. She's drunk.

She explains how she had just gotten back from drinks with a guy but thats not what's on her mind. She's talking about a hotel room that has been booked for her in the city this weekend...not just any hotel room but the corner suite at the QT. My mouth waters...

"You're welcome to come for a drink." she says.

"I need to go to bed." I reply.

I really do. I've been away from The Dirthouse for three days and this is what I come home to...more excitement and drama than ever before.

I lay down on my bed and try to sleep but something else on my mind. I grab my phone and dial Queen B's number (lazy I know). She answers immediately.

"What does DD stand for?" I ask.

I listen intently as she reveals the full name and it's origin. I can hear her laughing through the cracks in my floor boards. I'm also in stitches.

Maybe we do have room for DD in The Dungeon after all ;)

A Few Days Away

Was three days away enough? Not even close.

But it was enough time to give mum and dad a kiss, catch up with a close girlfriend, get a lovely sun tan and do a tiny tiny bit of study.

When going on a spontaneous trip one must always remember to pack the essentials... 

Taking off in the middle of exam week can have its disadvantages but you know what they always say...you should always try your hardest to make the most out of a bad situation.

So it wasn't really a bad situation at all. I got a little writing done...

A few new freckles...

And somehow made it down to Hastings for a bite to eat

And despite the fact that I had a seriously disgusting face consuming flu, I still managed to gaze peacefully out to sea.

But one must always be aware of their priorities to tan...study. 

Because dad didn't know I was coming home and he had to work I was alone for the most part...except for the wild beasts that roam his property. 

Oh no thats just Murray, my Aussie bulldog...he's harmless and just between you and I (quite silly and very clumsy). 

The wild beast I'm referring to is Miles who is pictured below...can you spot him?

Say Hello Miles...

I love my dad for many reasons, one main one being that he spent nearly a grand on massive concrete gorilla to hide in his garden. 

"If one person drops their wine glass over the next decade Miles will be worth every cent" he laughs. 

Unfortunately it wasn't long before I had to leave again. Whyyyyyyyyyy??? I was asking myself all the way to the airport. 

Back to the city...

*

I jump into the first available cab it smells like ciggies and sweat and aftershave. 8:38pm on time impressive.

As soon as I exit out of flight mode the clock immediate flicks over to 9:38. I've just lost an hour of my life. I've been back in the city for barely 10 minutes and time is flying before my eyes. 

"Is that address Redfern" the cab driver asks

 "No, Surry hills" I snap 

Aggressiveness - city girl.

Cab driver continues to talk about how he once lived in Surry hills,  I proceed to ask him several questions about his three daughters as we turn down Bourke St.

Engaging in conversation with cab driver - Noosa girl

We stop outside The Dirthouse, I give him a fifty.

He passes me the change as I gather my bags. I count it and it's short $10.

I argue with the cab driver for a minute but eventually get my change.

Arguing for money - city girl.

The cab driver pulls away from the curb and I continue to stand there on the street marvelling at the bright lights, fresh new graffiti and our dilapidated mansion swaying tall and proud in front of me.

As much as I like to refer to myself as a city girl now, there's no denying that I'm a Noosa girl at heart.

Sometimes it takes me a few days away to appreciate this. I know it sounds stupid but I can see things a lot clearer now especially after being able to step away from it all.

I jiggle my key in the old lock and finally it clicks open...

PLAY

tbc...

PAUSE

In the past I've spoken about going to Noosa as a way of pressing pause on the game.

For the last 2 months I've been reaching for the button but it's been too hard to get to with a demanding new job and uni work flooding in.

But I've finally found a gap in my busy schedule at the start of next month to escape the city and go back to my roots for a few days.

Although it's only a couple of weeks away I feel like I have a mountain to climb before I can step onto that plane.

Final exams, new ventures pertaining to work and the slow and tedious task of removing you from my life.

Sometimes we strut and allude confidence in every step we take and sometimes we flail.

This part of my life is called flailing and it mostly has to do with the fact that I cannot, no matter how hard I try switch off from life.

Ok, ok It aint all bad. Only 18 days, 3 exams, 4 essays, 1 dentist appointment, approximately 12 days of work and 432 hours left until I'm on that plane.

4 days later...

*Flight JQ709 Sydney to Sunshine Coast is now boarding*

I'm so tired I can barely see my hand in front of my face. There is nothing keeping me here. Thats a lie, everything is keeping me here. I'm in the midst of my final exams, a new job and three major events to attend. I can't leave Sydney right now.

My phone vibrates, its you.

"Are you ok??"

No, I'm not ok I think to myself. I need to go home, if only for a day. I need to find my equilibrium. I need to escape The Dirthouse, get away from the girls, get away from my life and get out of my fucking head.

*Final boarding call for flight JQ709 Sydney to Sunshine Coast*

I pick up my work handbag - the only piece of luggage I've got and walk forward towards the departure gate.

14 days, 3 exams, 4 essays, 1 dentist appointment and 7 days of work premature I press it

Mr A - A Lesson In Time

When I was in college I dated this older guy.

Like most 18-year-old girls the whole club scene was very appealing to me and who better to catch my eye than the resident DJ at a popular Brisbane establishment?

He was super cute, cheeky and a total player.

It was infatuation at first sight.

We dated on and off for my entire first year of uni.

Although it was probably one of the most plutonic relationships I've ever had it was also incredibly poisonous at the best of times.

We fought like cats and dogs no, more like lions and bears. He stole my shit, I got banned from his work, he called the police and I once accidentally gave him a black eye then ran away while he went to get ice.

But believe it or not out of a year of absolute mayhem, tears and tantrums eventually came a rather wonderful friendship that I still value to this day.

We don't speak often in fact we usually only speak when we're in-between relationships but I guess in a weird way thats when I need him the most.

Truth be told I just got off the phone to him.

"Paigey" he always sounds pleasantly surprised to hear from me, its nice.

"How are you stranger?" I always ask.

And then the conversation begins. We'll start off with the mundane things like hows study? (he's one of those guys who has many unfinished degrees, a jack of all trades to put it nicely). And then in a round about way he'll ask about my love life.

Today he didn't sound the least bit surprised when I told him I had been dating an older guy and that it had recently ended due to my dramatic ways and the obvious lack of potential relationship growth.

Mr. A always puts things in perspective for me. Once upon a time I was a young college girl crying over him, a man that at the time seemed so hard to figure out. Like the end of any relationship you always find it difficult to imagine how you could ever see your significant other in any other way. You feel like that phone call will be the last phone call, that kiss will be the last kiss and calling it quits means enduring the pain of feeling like that person will be removed from your life forever. Yet now, years later I speak to him on the phone with a warm familiarity. And at the end of the conversation today he said something, something that would have been so significant and "life changing" if only he had said it years ago whilst I was still living in my little dorm room in Brisbane.

He said, you know I love you Paige. You're a special one.

Unfortunately it doesn't mean as much to me now because I'm too busy willing someone else to love me but it does help me to realise that its all good. And if its not all good now, it will be eventually.

As corny as it may sound time does heal a broken heart and that was my lesson from Mr A (pictured above).

Before Mr Right Now was Mr A and before Mr A was Mr D and before my first love was Collin off Play School.

Each guy serves a purpose in your life, each relationship no matter how small will teach you a lesson that will benefit you in your future dating experiences.

When you end a relationship it's hard to see past the initial pain of a breakup, but if you start to see relationships like a compilation of tracks on a loop - some songs are great, some songs are exciting and some songs are meh, the point is that if you keep on playing you'll eventually find a song that sticks in your head.

And that one song that you are struggling to get over now...well let it go, move onto the next track - and in time and it will eventually come back around. You might hear it at the supermarket or bump into it at the gym and when you do you might just find that a new even more fabulous tune is already stuck in your head.

For now, just dance.

;)

Thanks for the song recommendation Mr A

xx

You Are More Beautiful Than You Think

 

The Dirthouse Book Club

I love living in The Dirthouse, I love living with three beautiful and intelligent young women but sometimes I just feel like we're a hopeless bunch of school girls who need a good reality check especially on matters of the heart.

We are all currently kinda dating someone and have been dating that someone for months and even years now. Yet, none of us have really progressed past those initial stages of a relationship.

Queen L had a boyfriend but then he went away so it was put on hold, he got back about a month ago but he's not her boyfriend anymore because, time changed something or something but he still comes over and leaves his plaid shirt and esky in our living room.

Queen K is also seeing someone in fact she has been casually seeing him for years...years of foreplay has finally turned into something that resembles the beginning of a relationship but we can't know for sure because I have lived in The Dirthouse for years now and I have never seen this man she speaks of.

And as for me well, what problems don't I have in regards to my current relationship status?

So last Sunday morning all of us single gals found ourselves sitting in the lounge room in silence. Intermittently staring at our phones, then staring at the wall and then back at our phones and then to each other. Finally I felt obliged to stand up and say...

"What the fuck are we actually doing?"

Queen L then suggested that we read, because smart girls spend their time immersed in timeless literature and dumb girls sit on the couch and think about boys. So we all headed to the library in the dungeon to see what literary masterpieces we could find.

*side note - another reason why I love The Dirthouse is because we have our own library which is made up of random books that none of us actually bought. These books have been left here by single girls who have lived in this dilapidated mansion before us, kind of like they are handing down their knowledge to the next generation of DH Queens.

The first book we picked up was "He's Just Not That Into You"the incredible creation of expert dating duo Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. Im sure you've all seen the movie, but nothing and I mean nothing can prepare you for the book which is wildly different, much funnier and million times more ruthless than the movie adaptation.

On opening this shabby book with its yellow tinged pages and suggestive water stains it soon became obvious that the girl/s who had read this before us couldn't handle Greg Behrendt's no bullshit approach, leaving evidence of their tears throughout the novel.

I'm not going to lie, it's fucking hardcore especially if you're currently making excuses for a man in your life. The main lesson we took away from He's Just Not That Into You is that "no answer is your answer". If he's not returning your phone calls, if he's not texting you first or if he's just straight up disappeared on you, his lack of participation in the initial dating process is your answer. He's just not that into you.

The rule "no answer is your answer" also applies when you want to hook a respective partner, this means instead of returning his phone call straight away the right answer would be to not reply for a considerable amount of time. This should supposedly keep him interested and in turn make him fall in love with you.

The second book we decided to take turns in reading was The Manual written by notorious bad boy Steve Santagati. Although it is similar to He's Just Not That Into You, it also gives you insight into the smaller details like why men don't like to cuddle, why woman should dress for men instead of other women and how to play little games in order to get a guy to fall in love with you.

"Over thinking is the root of all evil in relationships" was the winning line from this book. Over thinking is my main problem in life in general so this quote really resonated with me,

And Queen L...

And Queen K...

And in an attempt to take the advice we had just been given and stop over thinking about our current relationships we decided to stop reading the books. Yes they were highly informative, they were also incredibly confronting and the truth was not something we were ready to face early on a Sunday morning. So there we sat once again immersed in our own thoughts. The deafening silence was suddenly broken by the familiar sound of my phone vibrating. It was him. My heart started to race and I reached over to answer it but Queen L snatched it off the table.

"No answer is your answer!" she screeched.

I watched in anticipation as the phone eventually rang out.

Although I didn't answer the phone I didn't really think these rules applied to me. I mean I had been seeing the same guy for months now, we weren't in the initial dating process and I didn't feel the need to play games with him. But a few minutes after I purposely missed the call, he messaged me. I replied an hour later with something short and vague and he came back instantly with a more substantial response. I didn't reply. He then called me again that night and this time I answered. He seemed more eager to talk to me than he had in weeks.

I suddenly felt bitterly disappointed. This man didn't want me, he wanted to play the game. I tried to date someone older to avoid exactly this however in the end his level of game playing experience is what kept me blindsided for months. I stopped talking to him the next day.

This time I wasn't using silence as a weapon to get him back, I was using silence to take myself out of the game.

Like Mr Behrendt says "why waste the pretty"especially on some smooth talking schmuck who doesn't know what he's got until its gone?

That night I went to bed alone, well not quite...

The next morning I woke up feeling like shit but I knew that I'd made the right move. Now I'm 100% back on the market...but fella's please be made aware that I am no game of trouble , you cannot play with me...for if you do I will take this knife a cut you a large slice of reality.

My favourite quote out of both books in this weeks Dirthouse Book Club was:

“It's very tempting when you really want to be with someone to settle for much, much less -- even a vague pathetic facsimile of less -- than you would have ever imagined. Remember always what you set out to get and please don't settle for less. These guys exist because there are a lot of women out there who allow them to.” 
― Greg Behrendt

Maybe there's no denying that "love games" exist and you can't control the way that these rules affect your dating life but you can control the people you choose to play with. If you don't like how a man is making you feel then don't let him get away with it by turning a blind eye to his shit. You deserve many moons more than that.

I know, I know it sounds easier said than done but deep down they are just as lost as we are, I promise you.

Queen B's Weekend Away At Nelsons Bay

Hi guys - Queen B here,

As Queen D may have notified you, I did a dissapearing act from the hussle and bussle of crazy Sydney this past long weekend to flee to the beautiful beachy town of Nelsons Bay. My friend Miss S and I jumped in her Toyota starlet hatchback pretending we were instead in our sleek black convertible and hit the highway for a car ride of screaming out the lyrics to "Spice up your life" and "Be My Lover"...it was going to be an excellent weekend.

After 3 magical hours of spice girls power ballads we arrived at our exquiste modern mansion. 6 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, 2 living areas, pool, cabana...it was insane.

We greeted our fellow mansion friends and headed into town for some lunch by the wharf.

We then popped on down to Dutchmans Bay beach which was literally 10 walking steps from our house for some seaside ciders and beach cricket. (Bullshit about the cricket we left that to the boys and worked on our tan).

Miss S and I laid on the beach and schemed of ways in which we could make friends with people who owned yachts, boats and jet skis....we had no takers...yet*.

That night we threw a "P Party" back at the mansion which meant everyone had to dress up as something beginning with P.

Cue sexy Pochaontas and myself as Pamela Anderson. Just to be safe I brought three flotation devices with me that night in case there were any drunken midnight pool swims. I'm thoughtful I know.

Meet the P Party costume winner Miss J in her DIY protractor costume, we did a lot of "angle" dancing that night.

Oh heeeey Paper boy and Popeye cooking up a storm on the BBQ, we love us some sausages ;)

Paulie D from Jersey Shore flexing those biceps, not sure if I look impressed or unaware.

That Protractor had some flip cup skills.

Eat that tissue paper Spinach Popeye.

Shit got real later on in the night when Miss S and I started up our famous Pop Up Parties in our boudoir. Limbo anyone?

Then the paper boy got naked...nuff said.

We had such an amazing weekend and we all just wanted to sell our bodies for cash so we could stay there for eternity, but it was time to head back to the big smoke and bid farwell our fellow party people.

Pam will be back in the bay one day soon but this time with her beloved Dirthouse Queens.

Who has the better weekend? I think I did...I mean sailors are good but a combination of men all dressed up in P themed attire (one being popeye who is technically a sailor) is better, I mean you Dirthouse Queen may have gotten a kiss but I got a fully nude long-shot of a young man in a multi-million dollar mansion.

Better luck next time ladies ;)

Queen Bernie xx