Package Holiday
Chapter Three: Goodnight Irene!
We came to, and each took a turn to refresh ourselves in the shower, which wakened us up. By seven o'clock we were smartly dressed and heading for the disco. Neither of us felt quite ready for food, yet.
"Look," suggested Simon. "If we're on a bird hunt, we may need to split up.
See you back at base at eleven thirty."
We went to the bar, and I decided to stick to coke, after last night's rebuttal. Simon didn't bother, and had his usual pint. We lounged against the bar for a while, eyeing up the talent. Soon I spotted a likely quarry, a beauty with a sexy body, wearing a tight fitting yellow sleeveless sweat, shirt and a pleated skirt that swirled out as she jived with her friend. When the next number started, I made a bee-line for her.
"Dance?" I asked, offering her my hand, and inclining my body slightly. She got up, and soon we were on the floor. She was Irene, from Essex, a rather empty headed bimbo, but quite fun. I plied her with a few drinks, sticking to coke myself, swearing it was brown ale.
"Have you eaten yet?" I asked. "No! Me and my mate was just about to go dahn the chippy, when you come up!" she explained. Well, beggars can't be choosers, and I was determined to win tonight, after my humiliating experience of yesterday. "Neither have I! Let's go!" I said, and soon we were sitting at a candlelit table, with silver cutlery, white tablecloth, and crystal glassware. Irene was definitely impressed. I ordered a bottle of Blue Nun and some mineral water.
"Ooh! What a lovely wine!" she enthused, quaffing rather than sipping. I thought so! I had pitched it just right. I guided her through the menu, and we had a really nice meal. Irene was just into her second Nun, when I thought the time was right to strike. "Fancy coming back to our cabin, after?" I asked. "Who's us?" she asked. "Well, I've got this really nice mate, Simon. We're on holiday together." "You suggesting group sex?" she asked. "What do you take me for? A slag?"
"Look," I said covering my mouth with my hand, conspiratorially. "I just meant for a last drink. Our cabin is well stocked with booze. But there is another thing." "Just what I thought!" she said triumphantly. "No! No! Listen. I've got a bet on with my mate. He doesn't think I'm capable of picking up a date. He's bet me £20 that I can't get a girl back to the cabin at half eleven, to stay for a drink for half an hour. So I'd really appreciate it if you would come for a drink." "What's in it for me?" she asked, immediately there was the sound of money around. I leaned towards her conspiratorially, and shielded my mouth with my hand. "Well," I said, "his actual words were: I'll bet you twenty pounds you can't get a bird back here for a drink. Twenty pounds, and she gets to spank my bare arse! He sounded pretty sure of himself."
Irene considered for a minute. "What's he like, this mate of yours?" she asked. At that moment I knew I had her hooked. "Ugly bastard, really," I said, and then realising she hadn't that typically male sense of humour, added, "but he has a real sexy arse!" "Is it hairy?" she asked. "Well, I couldn't actually tell you that, as I've not seen it in the flesh, only covered with trousers or shorts. But it is nicely rounded." Irene considered again. "Go on then! After that nice meal, it would be bloody ungrateful of me to stop you winning £20." "Yes," I thought to myself, "I'm sure it would!"
We finished the meal and the wine, and returned to the disco. There was no sign of Simon. Probably returned to the cabin, defeated, I thought. At twenty past eleven, Irene and I made our way back to the cabin. The lights were on. Just as I thought, Simon was back already.
Simon did a double take as I walked in with Irene, and I introduced them. Irene's eyes opened wide when they settled on Simon. Rather like myself when I first saw him, she couldn't believe her luck.
"Well, pour a girl a drink!" she said to me, her eyes not straying from Simon. He opened a bottle of white wine, and poured Irene a glass. He brought out a couple of cans for ourselves. We started sipping.
Irene was not subtle. She was halfway through her glass of wine, when she turned to Simon. "Come on, then Simon! Get your kit off!" she said. "What?" he said, giving me an incredulous look. "Come on, I know all about the bet you two have made! I get to spanked your botty 'cos you're the one who hasn't pulled tonight!" she crowed.
"Oh, er, yes!" replied Simon, thinking on his feet. He realised that if he said the spanking was supposed to be administered by me, later, it wouldn't look too good. But he couldn't deny the bet, because he knew I had told Irene something close to the truth, but not exactly what! I had him!
What Irene didn't know, of course, was the details of how the spanking was supposed to be administered, and we both had to play that by ear, lest we get into deep waters.
"Well, are you going to be a bad loser?" she asked Simon, impatiently. "No!" said Simon, calmly. "I'll keep my end of the bargain. I gambled and lost, fair and square!" "Get them off, then!" she demanded.
Simon turned his back to both of us, and dropped his trousers. "Don't just drop them! I want them right off!" squealed Irene with obvious delight, seeing it all coming true at last. Simon slipped his feet out of his trousers, which he lobbed onto his bed. He was wearing the longest T-shirt you ever did see, halfway down to his knees.
Chosen, no doubt, against the eventuality of losing tonight's challenge.
He moved towards Irene. "How do you want me? Standing, bending, lying face down, or standing on my head?" he asked. The sarcasm was lost on her. "Over my lap, of course," she said, with mock patience. Irene hoisted her skirt up, exposing her legs right up to her knickers. She patted her thighs, signalling Simon to bend over them. Pulling his T-shirt down to its full extent, he placed his middle on to the waiting lap.
Irene took hold of the tail of the T-shirt, and pulled it up towards his waist at the back. It wouldn't come very far, as it was trapped underneath him at the front, but it was enough to make Irene squeal again, this time with disappointment. "You're wearing pants! I was promised a bare arse!" Simon had tried it on, but was not going to be allowed to get away with it! He stood up, pulled down his T-shirt again, dropped his pants, and kicked them off his feet onto the bed.
Irene started drooling, and patted her legs again. Simon took up his position, and she started to ease his T-shirt up, first at the back, then, underneath him, until eventually it was all piled up under his armpits, so that he was effectively naked from armpits to ankles. And a real sexy back and butt he had too. It was the first time I had seen his arse, and I couldn't help myself staring and admiring it for a moment or two. It wasn't hairy at all, nice and smooth skinned, with round buns.
With a lustful look on her face, Irene started stroking Simon's bare bum for a couple of minutes. Simon kept his legs tightly together, and soon the stroking was followed with six dainty slaps, each one separated by a few light strokes to soothe his cheeks. Suddenly it was all over, and Irene released him.
Simon quickly scrambled over to his bed, his back to us, and pulled on his underpants and trousers. "What you put them on again for?"" squealed Irene. "I don't normally sit around in company with my private parts on show!" he replied, quite reasonably. Irene stood up and faced him. She pulled up her tight sweat shirt, revealing a couple of nicely proportioned naked tits. She wiggled these very close to Simon's face. "Don't I get a shag, then?" she asked. "Like I said earlier," I cut in before the gobsmacked Simon could reply, "we don't take you for a slag."
Irene covered up her breasts in a temper. "Couple of poofs I take you for!" she said, and stormed out of the cabin. I shut the door behind her, and Simon and I looked each other straight in the eye, and burst out laughing. "Slag!" we shouted in unison.
Simon poured us both a glass of wine, and we sat down and relaxed. "You cunning old bastard!" he said, his hand on my knee. "One up to me, I think! Time for your penalty, but drink your wine up first!" "What?" he objected, angrily. "You must be joking. I had to suffer the humiliation of being spanked by that slag, and that was worse than the original agreed penalty. I think we have a dispute here."
We sat and sipped our wine for a bit, and thought about it. I got up and recharged our glasses. I could see Simon was cross. "Look, Si," I said. "I know one thing. I'd do anything for us not to fall out, so I won't argue. And yes, that ruse was rather underhand!" Simon laughed. "But it was bloody clever! I have to raise my hat to you! Just as I shall have my hands round those cheeks of yours soon! And I think you broke the rules enough to make your penalty as arduous as possible!" "Agreed! You can't blame me for trying to get away with it, though!"
Simon popped into the bathroom, and came out with his pair of nail scissors "Snagged a fingernail," he explained as he trimmed one of his nails. "I don't want to scratch your nice smooth skin." He finished, and put the scissors down on the dressing table. Then he pulled out the slip of paper on which I had written the penalty, and read it out. "Whoever fails the challenge has bottom smacked. Loser may wear underpants, but these may be manipulated by winner prior to the spanking."
Simon pulled out the chair from the dressing table, turned it to face the room, and sat on it. "Off you go, then!" he smiled. "Get ready! I'm waiting!" "Look," I said. "So as we don't fall out, tell me exactly what you want me to do. I've already got my underpants on, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm ready to be spanked."
"As far as I can see, your wording means I can stipulate you strip down to your underpants. So while I sit here and comfortably finish this wine, strip for me! And don't be coy and turn your back to me!"
I stood up, and faced Simon. I removed my shoes and socks, and out them to one side. Then I thought I'd be a bit provocative. I unzipped my trousers, and parted the waistband, exposing the front of my briefs. With legs apart I slowly pulled my shirt over my head, and threw it over to the bed. Finally, I dropped my trousers, and held each foot up to Simon for him to pull the legs over my feet, and remove them.
Simon eyed my critically. "Nice body!" he said. "Bit of a bulge there!" he laughed, stabbing a finger in the direction of my growing prick, and just pressing on it for a second. I turned red. "What position do you want me in?" I asked. "Over my lap, just as before!" he answered, spreading his legs to provide more support. He put a hand under me, and lifted me so that my bum was more central over his lap. "Now," I thought, "comes the manipulation of the briefs. Bet he'll pull them down." I felt his hand probing between the tops of my parted legs, and a finger inserted itself under the elastic right at the narrowest point of the gusset of the pants. "He's going to pull them into my crack, again," I thought, somewhat relieved.
I was wrong! He pulled the gusset well away from my scrotum, and suddenly all the elastic went loose! It took a few seconds before I realised what had happened. The devious bastard had used those nail scissors he had casually trimmed his fingernail with, to cut right through the gusset of my pants! They were now nothing more than a glorified belt, the material part flapping in the breeze!
I heard the scissors clonk back on the table, and then with both hands, he hoisted the remains of my briefs up to my armpits. "Just made you a nice bra!" he laughed, and started fondling the very lowest part of my buttocks. "Nice body, lovely arse, and those balls look inviting, too!" he commented, stroking the base of them, around my perineum. That always got me going, and I soon had a complete hard on. Not that he could tell, luckily, as my prick lay in the gap between his legs.
Before long came the spanks, six of them, in varying spots from full cheek to inside thigh. "OK, you can get up now!" he said. "Pull the remains of my pants down to my waist, please, so I can cover myself!"
He laid a hand on my bare arse, and kept it there. "I think we both agreed you deserved a penalty plus! And so saying, he cut through the waistband of the briefs, which fell to the ground, leaving me face down over his lap wearing not a stitch. I gasped with horror! He couldn't do this to me! "They were a nearly new pair of briefs!" I protested. "You've completely vandalised them!" "Promise I'll buy you a new pair before the end of the week!" he said, gave my bum a light pat, and said: "Up you get then!"
I sort of rolled of his lap, and hiding myself with my hands, ran to my bed and grabbed my shorts. Quick and careful as I was, I'm sure Simon caught a fleeting glimpse of my erection before I managed to pull my shorts on.
"Bastard!" I said, smiling at him, and he handed me a drink that he'd just poured, and settled on the edge of my bed, next to me. I was feeling quite mellow and companionable, when there was a knock on the cabin door. "What the fuck?" I exclaimed, and dived into the bathroom, leaving Simon, who was still fully dressed, to answer the door.
I'd got quite excited lying naked over Simon's lap, and as I pulled my shorts on I had noticed a sticky bead was oozing from the slit of my cock. With no underwear to absorb it, it was now beginning to show through my shorts. I stripped, got under the shower, and after drying off, came out with a towel round my waist to see who it was.
It was Bill, our neighbour! "For Christ's sake, Bill, it's one o'clock. What the hell do you want?" I asked. "He just got back, and his door's locked. He can't raise Richard. Bill here forgot his key!" Simon explained. "He asked if he could crash on our floor? It's getting chilly out!"
Simon and I gave each other a resigned look. Just as we were settling down to a quiet drink together. Shit! "Come on, Bill!" said Simon in a tired voice. And so we all crashed out for the night.
To Be Continued .....