The Wild Side of Rod
He lay on his favorite side of the bed - her bed; the right hand side of course, drifting in and out of slumber, dwelling in the afterglow of a slow and tender lovemaking session with a woman he met that evening in a nightclub in Brisbane City. One could be forgiven for wondering how a man who had ‘picked up’ a woman in a nightclub could have enjoyed a tender lovemaking session with her a few hours later.
Whilst lying there, contemplating “seconds”, a loud snoring noise broke the silence, and Rod thought “ah well, let her sleep”. His young lust had been satisfied, for the moment. He was drifting off again when he felt his newfound lady move next to him. Turning slowly towards her he gently stroked her thigh with his fingertips, hoping to arouse the passion once more.
The peacefulness of the moment erupted with the sound of her voice yelling out, “ you lousy drunken no good bastard. That’s right, stay asleep in your drunken stupor”. Rod remembered having had a bit too much to drink that night, but certainly not enough to be called a ‘drunken bastard’. He decided she must have been talking in her sleep about her husband, and turned over onto his back thinking, “far out, I sure can pick ‘em”.
His next thought made him smile, as he wondered if she did breakfast. Then he remembered the rule, “if you want breakfast, you have to sleep in the kitchen”. He turned over to face the wall and get some shuteye.
Some time later he awoke with a start. His lady friend was thumping her pillow, and yelled loudly enough to wake anyone. “ Can’t you see what I have done! You’re so drunk you don’t care and I am sick and tired of you”
By now Rod was wide awake and sat up in bed. It was dark, no moonlight. He heard the snoring noise again, not coming from the woman, but someone next to her on the other side of the bed. He started to panic. “My God”, thought Rod, “there are three of us in the bed!”
He swore softly, and wondered how he could have been so stupid as to end up in a bed with a woman who was a stranger, and her husband. He definitely had drunk too much of the ‘good’ stuff to end up in such a predicament and now was in one frightening jam. As these thoughts raced through his confused mind, he asked himself if he had a death wish, because that could very well be the outcome of this little adventure. He decided to make good his escape, or hoped he could, and slid out of the bed quietly. The yelling continued and so did the thumping. His fear was that the other person in the bed would be wakened in a rage with the barrage of punches find their mark time after time.
The clothes he had thrown on the floor with such abandon some hours before were now held close to his naked chest, along with his shoes and socks. He hoped he hadn’t left behind any evidence of who he was, and swore again at himself for his stupidity. After fumbling his way out of the bedroom, unnoticed it seemed, he found the front door, and closed it quietly behind him. There he was, out in the street, stark naked and cold. He knew he couldn’t go anywhere until he was dressed, or at least partly dressed, so he moved away from the streetlight in front of the house and found a hedge to crouch behind to dress. All this happened in a few seconds, and yet it was like a movie in slow motion. Searching through his clothes in the darkness of his hideaway he located his jocks and slipped them on whilst almost tumbling over in the haste of the moment. He shivered in the cold and with very real fear thinking that at the very least he couldn’t be arrested for indecent exposure.
It seemed a good idea to keep moving, as he remembered it was harder to hit a moving target. In his terror he imagined the husband chasing him with a shotgun, just like in a silent movie. Trotting down the street, he managed to get dressed whilst moving, which was not an easy feat especially when it came to trying to get moving legs into trousers.
Even in the terror and fear of the seconds as they ticked by, as he moved further away from her house, he managed to see the funny side of the escapade, and thought of Benny Hill sketches he had seen on TV. He giggled and wondered if he was having a nervous breakdown, as this was certainly not the time for laughing. Reaching the end of her street, with his shoes and socks and shirt still in his hands, he saw looming out of the fog the best thing he had seen for a while; a yellow cab with a taxi light on the roof. Rod flagged it down, jumped in the back seat, gave the driver his address, and proceeded to finish dressing.
He could see the driver’s face in the rear view mirror; a sly grin hung around his mouth, a knowing grin. Rod figured that taxi drivers would see a lot of strange happenings in their type of business, and no doubt he had seen it all before, especially a half dressed man at three o’clock in the morning, on the run.
Once he was fully dressed, he relaxed back in the seat and located his cigarettes and a lighter in his pocket. Asking the driver if it was okay to smoke he lit up a cigarette, taking a long leisurely drag on it. With his socks and shoes on his feet, he was feeling confident that he was now safe, and began to reflect on how this adventure had come about.
It had started out like any other Saturday night; a young man, single, visiting the place he liked to go to on a Saturday night, his favorite night club ‘Bruisers’ in Brisbane city centre. Bruisers had a nice bar, and always had good music with a resident band and singer. One of Rod’s friends was the MC and they always had a quiet drink together whenever Rod dropped in. This night was like any other Saturday night with Rod sitting alone at the bar, enjoying a quiet scotch and dry. A woman sat next to him; he glanced at her, but she didn’t look his type, and he wasn’t really interested. Turning around on the stool at the bar he faced the stage, sipped his drink and watched the band, enjoying the music.
A hand touched his arm and turning again on the stool Rod came face to face with the woman next to him who now spoke to him in a soft, silky and extremely sexy voice. She asked him the usual almost corny question, “do you come here often?”
“Not as often as I would like”, was his cheeky reply, and she giggled. They exchanged a few more pleasantries and mutually agreed to move to a table together, where Rod shouted a few drinks, and they danced together briefly. Rod’s dancing expertise extended only as far as a slow waltz, but she let him know she liked the closeness of dancing that way, and soon the young man’s thoughts turned to other things, as they do. After a few more drinks, and the ‘getting to know you’ phase over, she told him she was forty years old, was unhappily married, and had three children. She rarely went out, and thanked Rod for helping make her night out a pleasant one. The evening wore on and it was time for her to leave. She had satisfied her drinking urge, and was feeling tired, and as she appeared a bit tipsy, the ever-gallant Rod ordered a taxi, telling her he would escort her home safely.
On arriving at her home, he was invited inside for a coffee, a thank you for the wonderful evening, and for seeing her home safely. Rod, being the gallant Englishman that he was, accepted the invitation, thinking a cup of coffee would be nice but not spending a moment wondering about the husband. She opened the door, “quiet, shhhh,” she said in that silky angelic voice, “the children are asleep”. She led him by the hand, in complete darkness to a room, where she undressed quickly and slid into the bed. It was extremely dark in the room but Rod could see her lying on the bed. He had been expecting coffee, but it didn’t take long and his clothes were quickly on the floor as he slid in beside her. “Great”, he thought, “I get the right-hand side too!” He found he worked better on the right side.
She whispered in his ear that they would need to be quiet so as not to disturb the children in the next room, so Rod happily complied. Although the room was in almost total darkness, and he couldn’t see her, Rod’s hands could feel the warmth and softness, and enjoyed caressing her body and exploring every inch. With the love making over, she gently rolled him off, as only a woman can do, and he kissed her tenderly, laying there beside her thinking what a wonderful evening it had been, and wondering if he would be lucky enough to get seconds.
His happy thoughts came to an abrupt end as the taxi driver said, “here we are mate, safely home’, grinning knowingly as he turned around to collect the money. Rod located his wallet, thinking how fortunate it was that he hadn’t lost it, and paid the fare. He alighted from the taxi and hurried inside his flat, locking the door and making sure the windows were locked as well. His flat became a fortress for many nights after that as he lived with the fear that somehow the woman’s husband might remember something about that night, force the truth out of his wife, and then start asking questions at the club. Of course his fear was unwarranted because even his friend at the club didn’t know where he lived but guilt can build nightmares in the mind. Rod stayed clear of the club and made sure his nights out for a long time were in a totally opposite direction to where the woman lived. The escapade had unnerved him but Rod knew that it wouldn’t be too long before he would find himself out looking for adventure again.