Back of Bourke

'Just water please,' I requested.

Water was free on a 'serve yourself' basis, and Frank poured us each a glass. We drank them thirstily, then Frank poured us each a second which we nursed more slowly.

As we caught our breath and satisfied our thirst, it occurred to me that Frank was entirely out of my normal target range when it came to men. It wasn't his personality, it was his age. He was old enough to be my father.

Excluding the fact that he was at least twenty years my senior, he ticked a lot of boxes. He was appropriately dressed. He had good personal hygiene. He wasn't drunk. He treated me with respect.

As I was trying to decide how to move things from Point A to Point B, fate intervened in the form of a sauced up thirty year old man with attitude, who had tried to dance with me ten minutes earlier. Frank and I had both noticed him getting far too aggressive with other women, and we'd exchanged several pointed glances and wondered how it was he hadn't attracted the attention of a bouncer before the man tried his luck with me. Frank had neatly moved me away, and politely told him I was 'taken'.

Now the drunk was back, and he was in a dark mood.

'Why are you with Grandpa, lady?' he demanded of me.

'He's my husband,' I replied coolly.

When Darryl from the back of Bourke had insinuated he'd like to put his dick in my mouth at the country piss-up, I'd been startled. Over the past decade or so, I'd grown accustomed to men, mainly in the form of student parents, staring me down and demanding answers as to why their fuck up of a child had been punished for bullying another child. I was no longer easily intimidated.

'Ooooh, your husband,' came the sneering reply.

'Yes, mate, her husband,' Frank replied.

The drunk poked Frank in the chest.

'You're old,' he said.

'Fifty-nine,' Frank agreed. 'Please stop poking me. I don't appreciate it.'

The drunk poked him again. 'Really? Whatcha going to do about it?'

'We're going to leave,' Frank told him. 'Have a good night.'

Frank took my hand and we tried to leave, but the drunk was in the mood for a fight. I knew it, Frank knew it, and from the tense postures of those who had seen and heard the exchange, they knew it, too.

'You're a fucking old cunt,' the drunk taunted Frank.

Frank ignored him.

The drunk, enraged at not being able to provoke my companion, lost his temper and took a swing at Frank. In a split second Frank managed to drop my hand, half-block the blow, and punch the drunk in the stomach with a neat left hook. It wasn't a fight-ending manoeuvre, but it threw the drunk off balance long enough for a group of men in their late twenties to descend on him, secure him, and drag him away from us.

Two bouncers arrived and accepted delivery of the drunk, who was screaming obscenities at all and sundry, accusing them of assault, of infringing on his rights, and of being jealous cunts. I picked up my handbag, which I'd dropped onto the floor during the affray, and with the assistance of several other patrons scooped up my make-up bag, purse and keys.

I was expecting Frank and I to be unceremoniously turfed out, but everyone seemed quite concerned about our welfare. We were asked if we had any injuries, which we didn't, and in the end Frank grew tired of the fuss and quite firmly told the staff we were both perfectly fit and well but were going to take the opportunity to leave the venue and go home.

The Manager herded us outside and told us he'd flag down a taxi. Frank and I exchanged wry smiles. We were being treated like two little innocents who needed protecting, which was not how either of us viewed ourselves.

As a Yellow Cab responded to the Manager's wave and pulled to the kerb, I saw the recently evicted drunk conversing with two police officers. The drunk was pointing to us and yelling, whereas the cops seemed to be on the verge of arresting him and removing him from the public streets.

The Manager held the back door to the taxi open and I hopped in, followed by Frank. The Manager apologised once more as he shut the door.

'Where are we going?' the taxi driver inquired.

Frank turned to me. 'Where would you like to go? Do you know where your friends are, or would you prefer to have a quiet drink with me until they're ready to catch up with you?'

I checked my phone. There were no new messages.

'I'll come with you, if you don't mind,' I said.

Frank nodded. He told the driver the name of the hotel he was staying at and a few short minutes later we arrived.

I tried to pay the taxi fare, but Frank wouldn't have a bar of it. He paid the driver, helped me out of the car, and then led me into the foyer.

'I'm staying in an apartment with two of my sons' mates,' Frank told me. 'Neither of them will be back anytime soon.'

Frank and the two men were sharing a sub penthouse and it had clearly been the gathering point for the night's festivities because there were empty cans and bottles of beer and pre-mix spirits, opened condom boxes and clothes strewn everywhere. The guys must have gone swimming in the hotel pool earlier that day because there was a faint smell of chlorine to the place which intermingled with the scent of men.

'What would you like to drink?' Frank asked.

'Oh, anything's fine but rum or bourbon would be preferable.'

'We have both,' he said, opening the fridge and peering inside. 'Which do you want?'

'Rum. Please.'

He opened a pre-mix bottle and poured it into a glass. I was liking Frank more and more with each minute. He was a perfect gentleman.

We took our drinks to the sitting area. Frank asked me about my friends, and I admitted that I had absolutely no idea where they might be.

'Maybe you should text them and let them know where you are,' he suggested. 'They might get worried if they can't find you.'

'That's a good idea,' I agreed.

I didn't know Westie's number, but I knew Kerry's. I texted my friend to tell her where I was, and try to find out what she was doing, but there was no response. She was probably partying, drinking or fucking someone.

'Would you like me to get out of your hair?' I asked Frank.

'Of course not. I'm enjoying your company. Would you like to go?'

'No, no,' I assured him. 'It just occurred to me that I've been somewhat foisted on you, and you might not appreciate it.'

He laughed. 'I'm in an air-conditioned apartment drinking rum with a pretty young woman. It's a long way from what I get at home; dry, forty degree days, a long trip to get to the pub, and no one to come home to.'

I glanced at a box of condoms on the table. I doubted they were for him. No doubt they were bought by one of his son's friends on a 'just in case' basis.

I gestured to the contraceptives.

'While we're alone, I think we should use one of those,' I said.

Frank paused. He evidently hadn't expected any offer of sex, let alone one that was so blunt and crass. He took a sip of his rum and surveyed me carefully.

I blushed red.

'Well,' I said, stuttering. 'I, um... well, if you want... I would like... I fell of the horse a while back and now need to get back on. I think you would be a, uh, nice horse.'

Frank burst out laughing.

'Sorry,' I added. 'I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.'

'No, no,' he said, placing his drink on the coffee table. He reached for the box of condoms and removed a handful of foil packets, each joined to the next. 'Are you sure?'

'Very.'

He broke a foil packet off the chain and put it in his top pocket. Then he walked over to me, helped me to my feet, and kissed me.

Frank was a confident but tender lover. There was no rush, no messiness, no wild groping. Instead, he stood there kissing me, my face cupped in his hands, until I felt extremely confident I was making the perfect decision.

He slipped my dress down off my shoulders, and helped me wriggle out of it. I stood before him in heels, bra and knickers, feeling remarkably feminine and fragile. My lingerie was simple black lycra, the short designed not to show under a frock, but I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass balcony door and was surprised at how erotic the image was; me in my heels and lingerie, Frank fully dressed.

My lover led me to the bedroom and laid me down on the covers. He carefully removed my shoes, then took off his boots before laying beside me. I stared into his faded brown eyes in wonder as he pressed his lips against mine. He ran a hand over the curve of my body, caressing my hips and bottom.

My erect nipples strained against the Lycra cups of my bra and it was a relief when Frank reached behind me, unhooked my bra, and took it off. I felt wickedly vulnerable alongside him; my bare flesh pressing against his cotton shirt, my only piece of clothing a scanty pair of panties.

I reached between us so that I could unbutton Frank's shirt. He helped me with the buttons, one by one, until they were all undone. He sat up and slipped it off, revealing a body that was aged but otherwise in good condition, his chest matted with hair and his skin covered in a number of large, pale freckles and sunspots.

Frank leant down to suckle one of my small, dark nipples. I lay back, eyes shut, wantonly enjoying the experience, while casually wondering what he thought of my body. Did he notice the faint remains of stretchmarks on my hips and thighs that were a remainder of puberty? Did he find my pussy to be oddly bereft of hair? Or did he enjoy my relatively youthful body, and the firm, round breasts?

He continued to pleasure my body, kissing and stroking each centimetre until it felt as if my flesh were on fire. His fingers traced along my pussy lips several times and I arched my hips off the bed, willing him to part them and stroke my clit, but instead he rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. My legs were splayed out on either side of him and I could feel his erection pressing against the crotch of my panties. Between his cock and my cunt were three unnecessary layers of clothing. I wanted to weep with sexual frustration.

I suddenly felt impatient, aggressive. I clambered off Frank, so that I could undress him, and fumbled clumsily with his belt. I could see his erection tenting his jeans and I wanted to see it, touch it, taste it. I managed to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his jeans, and I pulled both his pant and briefs down.

He had a great cock; maybe seven inches and thick enough to be interesting without seeming intimidating. He wasn't quite hard enough for sex, so I knelt between his legs and sucked him until I could feel blood pumping into the organ. I breathed in his musky taste, and fondled his low-hanging balls. He was now much harder. Not as hard as Ciaran had been, but Frank was a good twenty or thirty years Ciaran's senior.

I was moving too fast for Frank. He told me to slow down, and pulled me back up onto the bed alongside him. He kissed me once more before gently looping a few fingers into the hem of my panties and pulling them down.

'Oh God, fuck me,' I begged him.

Frank chuckled. 'You young folk. Always in a rush.'

'I want you,' I whispered.

'Then you can have me, beautiful girl.'

Frank sat up and reached for his shirt, which was laying on the floor. He pulled the condom from the pocket and eased it over his erection. When he had it on, he glanced at me over his shoulder and in that minute, I could see him as a young man. I could vividly picture him at my age, gazing at his lover as he prepared to make love to her.

I opened my legs for him and he lay between them, his cock pressing against my entrance. Then, in one fluid, practised motion, he speared me and buried himself to the hilt in my hot, waiting cunt. I let out a strangled gasp and wrapped my legs around his. I thrust up against him, hinting that I wanted him to start. I knew I wasn't going to be able to climax; I never could if I didn't feel entirely comfortable in a situation, but I wanted this, I wanted all of it.

Frank moved in and out of me with practised skill. He whispered sweet things in my ear, and I giggled and blushed as I lay beneath him. He was taking his time, drawing things out. I didn't mind how slowly he took it now, I'd just wanted to feel his cock in my cunt.

Eventually, he leant down and whispered my name in my ear.

I knew what he was asking, or rather, saying. He was near to the end.

'Please,' I told him. 'I won't, but I'd like you to.'

Frank understood. He kissed my forehead, adjusted his position slightly, and picked up speed.

This is it, I thought to myself. He's going to cum. He began teasing himself with my cunt, going hard for a bit, then slow, then rapidly pulling and pushing in and out. As he built up steam he began to groan, and in that wonderful moment when his climax hit, he let out a loud, primal cry.

I smiled up at the ceiling.

Well, I thought. That was pretty damn good.

~~~~~~~~~

Kerry rang me twenty minutes later. She asked where I was, and I took my phone to the balcony for some privacy and told her the name of the hotel I was at. I also told her that she should be proud of me; I'd just fucked a fifty-nine year old man called Frank.

'He's in Brisbane because of his son's buck's night,' I added. 'He was great, really great actually. Where are you?'

Kerry ignored my question.

'Evie,' she said. 'What does Frank look like?'

'Oh, maybe five eleven, relatively lean, brown eyes and greyish-brown hair.'

Kerrie didn't respond.

'What's wrong?' I asked.

'I'm on my way to that hotel with Merrick, Frank's son.'

'Oh,' I replied, confused. 'That's random, isn't it? I didn't realise he was your friend's father. I mean, I suspected he might have been somehow attached to the buck's group, but I didn't know for sure.'

'You didn't think to ask Frank?'

'No.'

Kerry whispered 'oh my God'.

'What's wrong?' I repeated, feeling slightly panicked. 'Is Frank married?'

'No, you fucking idiot,' she said, suddenly breaking into laughter. 'He's my father's neighbour.'

'He's your what?' I exclaimed.

'My father's neighbour! Holy fuck, Evie.' Kerry broke into fresh peals of amusement.

I felt myself flush a bright, hot red. 'Oh God. How the hell did I end up sleeping with your parents' neighbour? We're in Brisbane. What the fuck was he doing here, tonight of all... oh, I know why he was here, what I don't understand is... oh fuck. Talk about six degrees of separation.'

Kerry was now shrieking with laughter.

'Oh my God,' I mumbled. 'And you're on your way here now?'

'We are, but we're going to Merrick's apartment. Make an excuse to leave, and meet us in the foyer. The boys are going to love this story, Evie.'

'No!' I yelped. 'Don't tell them!'

Kerry just laughed.

Rather than try and tell her to stop laughing, I elected to end the call and went inside to say good-bye to Frank.

'Was that your friend?' he asked.

'Um, yes,' I replied, wondering if I should tell him I was friends with his neighbour's daughter. I decided against telling him. With any luck, I could convince Kerry and his son to keep the whole matter quiet. 'She's going to meet me in the foyer.'

'I'll come down and see you off,' Frank said.

'No, no!' I quickly replied.

Frank held his hands up. His cheeks tinged pink. 'Sorry. You probably don't want to associate yourself with me.'

That was true, but not for the reasons he imagined. I leant over and hugged him.

'You couldn't be more wrong,' I told him firmly. 'I have my reasons. Trust me on that. And thank-you, really, thank-you, because you were wonderful.'

My words reassured Frank. He hugged me right back, then released me and gave me a big smile.

'You have a good night, little lady,' he said.

'You too.'

Frank held the door open and I skipped down the hallway to the lifts. I turned to take one last look down the hall and saw Frank wave good-bye to me. I waved good-bye to him just as the lift arrived, then hopped in the lift and travelled down to the foyer.

I didn't have long to wait for Kerry. She arrived in a taxi with the buck, Merrick, and two of his male friends.

'Where are the rest of the guys?' I asked her.

'Still drinking,' she said. She tried to keep a straight face but burst into laughter. 'Oh my God, Evie. I'm never leaving you alone on a night out again. I think you fucked one of a small handful of men I actually wouldn't have wanted you to sleep with.'

Merrick and his friends found my romp with Frank just as hilarious as Kerry did, and they gave me a not inconsiderable amount of friendly grief as we made our way to their room. Thankfully, Frank was staying on a different level, so I didn't have to worry about him hearing the commotion and opening the door and spotting us.

Westie called Kerry as we were walking inside the boys' apartment. Kerry told him where we were and invited him to come and join us.

After Kerry hung up, Merrick informed her that someone would need to meet Westie in the foyer and take him up to the room as a room key was needed to access anything above ground level in the apartment. I offered to be the one to do it, and was given a plastic key card and instructions on how it worked.

Westie arrived ten minutes later looking considerably worse for wear. He'd been quite sober when I saw him last, but he was now more than a bit tipsy.

'Evie,' he greeted, putting his arm around me. 'I missed you. What have you been up to?'

'Well, I thought I was being quite brave and slutty by picking up a man in a pub,' I told him. 'It turns out the man I picked up was Kerry's parent's neighbour. He was in town for his son's buck's night. Oh, and Kerry was out with the buck and his friends, and now the buck and his friends are all in a hotel room, which is where we're going, and the father is alone in his room, with no idea that I'm his neighbour's daughter's friend.'

'I must be more drunk than I thought. Are you telling me you fucked a bloke who was in town for his son's buck's party, and Kerry is about to fuck another of the bucks' mates?'

'Yep.'

'Fuck me,' Westie remarked. He gave me a hug. 'I'm proud of you, chook.'

'How was your night?' I asked.

'Not bad. Four women passed me around like a party favour, trying to be the one to get me to cum. Lady number three managed to accomplish the task on my second round. My only complaint was that one of the woman decided to stick a finger up the bung hole without warning. I'm not normally fond of that to start with, and it didn't help that she had acrylic nails.'

I automatically clenched my sphincter as I giggled.

'Ouch,' I said.

'It feels itchy more than anything.'

I laughed. 'I can't believe you just told me that.'

'Sorry,' he said. 'The girls kept feeding me Jack Daniels.'

'I'm still sober.'

'We should change that,' he said. 'Let's get a few drinks in you.'

We arrived back at the apartment to see one of the men -- not the buck - fucking Kerry doggy style in the kitchen. They were both completely naked. The other two men were watching.

Merrick asked us if we wanted a drink. Westie and I both nodded, and we followed Merrick into the kitchen. Our bodies brushed against those of Kerry and her lover. The man who was fucking her was seriously hung. I stared, mesmerised, at the bottom of penis and the thick yellow roll of latex of the base of the condom, as he slid it in and out of Kerry's cunt.

I'd never been so physically close to two people undertaking a sex act before. If I wanted to, I could have reached behind the man's legs and fondled his balls. Kerry's lovely big tits were swinging back and forth, and she had one hand on the bench to steady herself and one rubbing her clit.

'Love those tits, Kez,' Westie told her.

'Thanks Westie. Want to suck on them?'