Guns 'n' Rose Read online

  ‘Anyway, I’m Les and this is James.’

  ‘Megan,’ said the older one.

  ‘And I’m Paula,’ said the other one, already drooling over Jimmy and wondering how he’d managed to fall into her lap.

  ‘So, are you two up here on holidays?’ asked Megan.

  ‘No,’ said Les. ‘We own a string of fashion boutiques on the North Shore and we’re up here buying some clothes off a local designer.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Megan.

  ‘The Shamash. The Chosen One.’

  ‘Never heard of him.’

  ‘You’ve never heard of the Shamash?’ said Jimmy. ‘El Crazino.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Paula.

  ‘Then you have surely not trodden the golden path. Nor been blessed by the Messiah of the sacred delicious. Grrnhhgjkknllgh.’

  Megan and Paula looked at each other then back at Jimmy. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Les. ‘Your day of atonement will come. Zzzjkkgmjllknh. So what do you two girls do?’

  They both worked for the same bank, different branches, and tomorrow was an RDO so they were both out on the drink and having a bit of a knees-up. Megan had two kids and was divorced and, like Norton guessed, was an aerobics princess and sometimes taught classes. Paula was single, had never been married, played netball and was a lifesaver at some beach and rowed in the boat crew. They lived together at Copacabana, had got a lift over with Paula’s brother and were catching a taxi home. Megan was into Jack Daniels and Paula was hitting up on Bundy and Coke.

  Les ordered four of what he and Jimmy were drinking and handed them round. The girls thought the drinks were delightful and it helped break the ice. Not that the ice needed much breaking. Paula was Jimmy’s for the taking and Megan was all Norton’s way. Normally Les didn’t get off on older women. It wasn’t a hangup about age or anything. It was just that he’d had a couple of liaisons with divorcees when he first arrived at Bondi and it was okay. Except that when you’d see them down the beach with their children the next day you knew what the kids were thinking and it didn’t exactly make you feel like beating your chest. Then if the ex-husband happened to come ambling by you didn’t quite feel like striking up a bright and breezy conversation with him either. Besides, there were that many younger, single women running around Sydney, why bother? But Megan was one horny aunty. Fit as a fiddle with sexy eyes and a film star face. And this was up here, not home. If Megan wanted to come back to the house later on for more cool ones and a bit of the other, ripper. It was truly the prophecy. Grrrnghjkklng.

  The night proceeded swimmingly. The girl in the black vest got up and did more songs and more drinks went down including four Chocolate Surprises. Then the singer cut into Bob Marley’s ‘Is This Love?’

  ‘Ooh, this is one of my favourite songs,’ said Megan. ‘Come on, Les. How about a dance?’

  ‘Yeah, righto.’ Les got up, leaving Paula boozing on next to Jimmy.

  There was plenty of room on the dance floor and Megan started flouncing and posing around doing more of a Jane Fonda workout to show everybody how fit and healthy she was, as much as dancing. Les looked at her for a moment and thought, oh well, here goes nothing, and started linedancing. Somehow he managed to get away with it. A frieze here, a couple of buttermilks there. Do-si-do and away we go. Megan was taken aback and surprisingly impressed by Norton’s amazing versatility. She even tried to join in herself, but couldn’t quite hack it. Norton was just too cool. The singer slipped into ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ and Norton started bootscootin’ again. After the last Chocolate Surprise he even threw in a bit of attitude. When that finished Megan didn’t fancy being upstaged and said she wanted to sit down, which suited Les; even though he was doing it easy this time around, the denim and leather vest didn’t quite cool him down. When they returned to their stools Paula said she wanted to go to the ladies. She was breaking her neck to go sooner but, like a good Aussie girl, there was no way in the world she was going to the can on her own and leave her very best girlfriend.

  ‘You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you, Les?’ said Megan, picking her handbag up off the bar.

  ‘With every single beat of my heart. Oh, pearl of the lotus flower.’

  ‘I think I’m beginning to like you, Les.’

  ‘There’s worse blokes out there than me, Megan.’

  Norton took a swallow of his drink and as soon as they were out of earshot turned to Jimmy.

  ‘Well, what do you want to do with these two scozza’s, Jimmy? That aunty’s a bit of a horn. I wouldn’t mind dragging her back to the gaff and seeing if she wants to play hide the sausage. How do you feel about the clubbie?’

  ‘Paula? Paula’s got a jam melon for a head and about as much style as a pig with mad cow’s disease.’

  ‘Yeah, but she hasn’t got a bad set of tits.’

  Jimmy reflected into his glass for a second. ‘Yeah, fuck it. Why not? At least she’s better than what I’ve been looking at lately.’

  ‘Righto. Well, here’s what I reckon we ought to do…’

  The girls came back and sat down looking both relieved and like they’d had a good tete-a-tete in the ladies. Jimmy waited till they sat down and picked up their drinks.

  ‘Listen, it’s all right in here, but we’re getting sick of it. You want to come back to our place? There’s a pool, music, plenty of booze. If we get our fingers out, I got us a lift.’

  ‘Who with?’ said Megan.

  ‘My aunty’s going to pick us up.’

  ‘Your aunty?’ said Paula. Jimmy nodded. Paula looked at Megan for an answer she didn’t need. ‘Sure—why not.’

  ‘Okay. Let’s go,’ said Megan.

  They finished their drinks, the girls picked up their things and they walked downstairs to the foyer.

  ‘This aunty of yours,’ said Megan, sounding a trifle suspicious, ‘she must be a sweet old thing to come out and get you in the middle of the night?’

  ‘She is, and I love her dearly,’ replied Jimmy as they got to the revolving door. ‘And here she is now, God bless her, right on time.’

  They came out the other side just as the limo rocked to a halt and the driver got out to open the door.

  ‘Where to now, Mr Rosewater?’ he smiled.

  ‘Straight home, thanks.’

  ‘Certainly, sir.’

  ‘Some aunty,’ blustered Megan, as they bundled in the back. ‘You bastard, Jimmy.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m a nice bastard.’

  ‘Is he ever!’ said Paula, placing her hand on his knee.

  The ride home was fairly uneventful. By the time Paula almost had her seat belt on they were out the front. Jimmy told the driver he’d call him when they were ready, Les opened the door and they all swarmed inside.

  ‘Ooh, what a beautiful house,’ said Megan. ‘Who owns it?’

  ‘I do,’ answered Jimmy.

  ‘It’s beautiful. I love your furnishings.’

  ‘Where’s the toilet?’ asked Paula.

  Norton motioned with this thumb. ‘That way.’ Paula walked down the hall and Les turned to the others. ‘I might hustle up a cool one.’

  ‘Good thinking, 99,’ said Jimmy, ushering Megan into the kitchen.

  By the time Paula got back Norton had four large Bacardis together and they all trooped into the loungeroom and sat down. Les rummaged through his tapes, picked out one he’d been playing earlier and slipped it into the stereo.

  ‘What are we listening to?’ asked Megan.

  ‘Some rural-influenced contemporary music,’ replied Les.

  ‘Some what?’

  Norton adjusted the volume, a woman’s quick giggle came through the speakers and Gina Jeffreys started hoofing into ‘Girls Night Out’. ‘Nothing wrong with this,’ said Norton.

  ‘Hey, I’ve seen this clip on Channel Two,’ said Paula. ‘She’s great.’

  ‘Reckon,’ winked Les.

  ‘Come on, Les,’ said Megan, tapping her
foot. ‘Give us a linedance.’ Norton smiled and shook his head. ‘Come on, you big wooz.’

  ‘All right. You want linedancing? Come on, Jimmy, you and me.’ Jimmy shook his head also. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ Jimmy stood up and looked at the blank expression on Norton’s face. ‘Remember The Honky Tonk Stomp, Les?’

  Les nodded slowly. ‘You lead, Jimmy.’

  There was plenty of room in Price’s lounge; Les fell in behind Jimmy and went for it. They bootscooted around the floor with Les just about getting there, though it wasn’t hard to see who was the better of the two. The song finished and they sat down to drunken applause from Megan and Paula.

  One track slipped into the next, Jimmy got another round of drinks, they all got a little closer to each other and it wasn’t long before Paula was all over Jimmy. Not that Les and Megan weren’t getting along famously, even if Les did see her giving Jimmy the odd glance at times. Les was blowing in her ear about nothing much in particular when he noticed a movement on the other side of the room and Paula was dragging Jimmy downstairs. Megan saw them leave also.

  ‘Gee, I hope Paula will be all right,’ quipped Les.

  ‘Surely you’re not worried about Paula, are you?’

  Norton looked at Megan for a second. ‘It was … I say it was a joke, gal.’ He put his arm around Megan’s waist and drew her towards him. She stiffened and put her arm on Norton’s elbow. Les drew his arm away.

  ‘I don’t normally do this, you know.’

  Norton shook his head adamantly. ‘I’m bloody sure you don’t. And may I say neither do I.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘Of course not. Normally I run a self-support group for single mothers at Manly.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll just bet you do.’

  Les went to give her a quick peck on the lips. Megan let go of Norton’s arm, put a front half-nelson on him and shoved her hot, sweet tongue halfway down his throat. Hello, thought Norton, frying to suck in some air, I don’t think Aunty Megan’s acting quite normal tonight.

  They licked, kissed, wrestled and groped all over the lounge till Norton decided to come up for air. He just about had Megan’s maroon top off and she almost had his fly undone.

  ‘Why don’t we brush this and go into my bedroom? It’s nice and comfy with a great view of the street.’

  ‘Show me the way.’

  Norton took Megan’s hand and led her along to the bedroom and switched the light on next to the bed. She took her dress off while Norton wrestled his way out of his jeans and shoes. When he turned around Megan was standing at the end of the antique wooden bed in a pair of skimpy, purple knickers, shaking the hand-crafted cedar slats. Shit, don’t wreck the bloody thing, thought Norton.

  ‘Hey, Les,’ she breathed, her eyes seeming to glow in the soft light from the bedlamp.

  ‘Hey, yes.’

  ‘How about tying me up?’

  ‘How about what?’

  ‘Tie my hands to the end of the bed.’ Megan lay back on the mattress and spread her arms out behind her. ‘Come on, tie me to the bedstead.’

  Norton stared at her with a blank expression on his face looking for the right words. Like, what with? ‘Yeah, righto,’ he nodded dumbly.

  Megan writhed on the bed. ‘Oooh, good.’

  Christ! What’s all this about? pondered Les. And what am I going to use? Rope? Electrical cord? I only got one belt. Hang on. He rummaged around in his bag of training gear and found two sweat bands he’d cut from an old white T-shirt.

  ‘Ooh, yes,’ squealed Megan. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘Good. I brought them along specially for the occasion.’

  Megan let her arms out comfortably behind her and Les tied her wrists to the wooden slats in a bow. Tight, but not that tight so she couldn’t get out of them if she wanted to. He finished tying the last bow and was still wondering if this was all a big joke. Some sort of…?

  ‘Now gag me.’

  Exactly what I was thinking. ‘Sure, just hang on a sec. I got an old football sock here somewhere.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  Les went to the drawer, got a clean hankie, folded it and tied it round Megan’s mouth. ‘There. You happy now?’

  Megan nodded enthusiastically. ‘Mmmrrrmmpphh.’

  Norton stood back from the bed for a look at what he’d done. In one sense Megan looked sensational; all trussed up, her whippy body straining against the ties and writhing about on the bed in just her knickers. It was definitely some sort of weird turn-on. On the other hand, her eyes peering up at him from between the corporate hair-do and the hankie in her mouth, Les thought she looked absolutely ridiculous. And what if Norton had been some sort of a nutter. The stupid bag either trusted him or took things for granted. Then Norton started laughing. Hey, wait a minute. I am a fuckin’ nutter.

  Megan strained against her bonds. ‘Mmmrrmmph. Mmrmphh.’ It sounded like ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘Don’t go away,’ said Les. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’

  ‘Mmmmrrmmphh.’ It sounded like ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m just going to get a red-hot coathanger and a chainsaw.’

  ‘Mmmmmrrrmmmppphhhh.’

  Norton went out to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards. Now where did I put that fuckin’ thing? I know I bought one. Ahh yes, here it is. He went back to the room where Megan was still trussed up on the bed and held up one of those little, plastic honey bears and flipped back the tiny, yellow nozzle.

  Les smiled down at her. ‘I always … I say I always like a little honey on my crumpets, Megan.’

  He slipped Megan’s knickers off, gave her nice, neatly shaved, aerobic-princess ted a wipe with a towel then started squeezing honey all over it. Megan snorted and cooed through her gag and writhed around on the bed. Les squirted honey in her navel and across her flat, firm boobs then squirted some more in her puss before putting the cap back on the honey bear and placing it under the bed.

  ‘Okay, Megan baby,’ he said, starting to sing as he took off his jocks. ‘Say you will when you won’t, but uh-uh, honey don’t.’

  Norton started licking the honey off Megan’s boobs before slowly working his way down to her navel. He’d squirted on a bit more honey than he first thought and it took a while to get off but Megan didn’t seem to mind so far. She wiggled her toes and moaned into the gag like it was some slow torture. Finally, he ran his tongue down a trail of honey to her ted, shoved his face in and went for it. Megan’s eyes flickered and spun round and the corporate hair swished from side to side as Norton sucked honey from every nook and crevice he could find it. She kicked her legs up, thrashed round on the mattress and strained at her bonds almost ripping the antique wooden slats from the end of the bed. Norton couldn’t make out what she was saying under the gag, but it sounded like she was having a good time. In fact it was a good thing Megan did have the gag in her mouth or she would have started letting the ships at sea know what a good time she was having. Not that Norton wasn’t enjoying himself. Megan’s antics were turning him on that much he was laughing with glee. And somewhere in the middle Mr Wobbly was banging his head around dying for a piece of the action, too.

  The honey was starting to run out so Norton got his hands under Megan’s backside, lifted it up and buried his tongue and face as far into her ted as he could get it. His tongue was coming to the last of the honey when Megan clamped her legs around Norton’s head in some kind of sexual Indian death-lock and tried her best to rip it off his shoulders. Les licked up the last drop then screwed up his face and closed his mouth as Megan let him have it. Les rattled his head from side to side for a last few seconds then came up before he either suffocated or drowned. Megan lay back with her head to one side, chest heaving and her legs apart. It looked unbelievably inviting and by now Mr Wobbly was a complete basket-case.

  Les picked up the towel from the end of the bed. ‘Righto, Megan,’ he said, giving her and his face a wipe, ‘now it’
s my turn.’

  Les slipped Mr Wobbly in, wanting to give her heaps. The only trouble was, Norton’s balls felt like they were on fire and ready to burst, testosterone was almost pumping out of his ears by the gallon and Megan’s ted was that warm, sweet, moist and tight the whole thing was just about over before Les even had a chance to get started. He gave a few good shoves, a few more, then arched his back, moaned with pure delight and emptied out in about a minute flat.

  He left Mr Wobbly in for a moment before pulling him out, then whether Les was a bit stuffed or not watching what he was doing, he miscued and fell off the bed, hitting his head on the floor. But even though it hurt, instead of going crook, Norton starting laughing. He climbed back up on the bed and lay down next to Megan gurgling and gubbling away fit to bust. He was lying there, tears rolling down his cheeks, when he felt a knee bang into his ribs, then another one.

  ‘Huh? Oh shit! Sorry, Megan. I almost forgot.’ Les undid Megan’s wrists and removed the gag, then lay back on the bed still chortling away.

  Megan glared at him and rubbed her wrists. ‘And just what are you laughing at?’ she demanded.

  ‘What am I laughing at? What do you think I’m laughing at? Oh, I don’t know. Probably because I’m happy. Because I feel good. Shit! You have to admit it was fun.’ Megan didn’t appear to think so. ‘Well, I had a good time anyway.’

  ‘You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well… probably. Yeah, but it’s just the whole silly scene.’ Megan still wasn’t laughing. ‘All right then. If my laughing offends you, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t laugh again.’ Norton had another look at the expression on Megan’s face then burst out laughing again, harder than ever.

  ‘Very bloody funny.’ Megan got up from the bed and found her clothes. ‘Where’s the toilet from here?’

  Norton pointed a feeble finger. ‘Straight through there.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll see you outside.’

  ‘Yeah, righto … honey pie.’

  Norton heard the bathroom door slam and fell back against the pillows almost getting tangled up in one of his sweat rags. After a while he settled down. Christ! What did I do wrong? Isn’t sex supposed to be enjoyable and to relieve tension or something? Les shook his head. Buggered if I know. You just can’t seem to win these days. It must be those stupid magazines they read. He got into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and went out to the kitchen to get a cold glass of orange juice, where he was surprised to find Jimmy sitting on his own in the loungeroom sipping a Bacardi and watching TV. Les poured himself a drink then went down and joined him.