Brazil Nuts!

Brazil Nuts:

In all this excitement, we forgot to tell you something really funny that happened last trip we did together. Something that in our widest imaginings we couldn’t have pulled out of the hat! In fact two top things, something cracking happened on the night stop, and also our very own Julie here has fallen in love! She doesn’t want me to tell you about it yet cos it’s early days, but me and Hero are chuffed to bits! And it all happened in Sau Paulo, which is a fantastic place to go, full of music and life and fashion. Hero was with me because he was working doing some of his promotions, so he came out on our flight (which I love, because he’s gorgeous and I am so proud of him, he’s a delight to display. Also, people he meets later tell me how much he loves me, and which female could deny the unending thrill of being told flattering information like that?) We always make sure that Julie doesn’t feel gooseberry when with us, and she’s agreeing here that she never feels left out. Hero is a real gentleman and thinks the world of her, and because he’s funny she enjoys the laugh the three of us have. But she was slightly pining for her own man. Don’t get me wrong, she gets more attention than 25 of me, but no one seems to really blow her frock up. At work she is forever being given business cards from male passengers, some really important and influential men, and she always receives them graciously but never calls. She never chucks them out though, they are the perfect texture and thickness for making roaches for our joints. We’ve smoked the Managing Directors and COE’s of some top companies.

Yeah Jue, I am going to tell them about that first, then in the next book we’ll do your exciting tale. You’re right Love, they won’t believe it happened either! Ok, on the crew of 17 that we took with us to Sao Paulo was an unusual lady. We’d not met her before but when she greeted us in the briefing room, it was like we’d been separated at birth, so chummy was her introduction and her hug. To be honest, it was a little disconcerting; she was not a respecter of personal body space and had to constantly touch our shoulders or arms as she spoke to us. And she’s the kind of person who speaks directly into your face, inches too close for comfort, and grins and nods as you answer her slightly intrusive questions. We’ll call her Denise. Now, on the way over to Brazil, Hero flew upstairs in Club Class, but we had to work down the back in Cattle. When I introduced Denise to my man as I popped to the upper deck to peck his cheek, she was extremely friendly with him, right in close and really touchy. He did recoil just a bit, and gritted his teeth, as she was just too invasive. I smirked at him over her pally shoulder, and he glanced down at her legs and lifted his eyebrows to indicate to me we’d have something to talk about later.

Right, I’m going to have to be careful here as I describe Denise’s appearance, so we don’t sound like a pair of total bitches. Whatever way we put it, it is going to sound cruel, but here goes. Denise was a lady of 42, divorced, maybe a little lonely, but definitely quite highly sexed. She asked Hero about our sex life in between serving him drinks, can you believe it? She asked if it was just me who got the goods, or was Julie in the bedroom picture too? Hero was astonished at the intensity of the question, and tried to make a joke as she stroked his forearm and looked right in to his eyes. He laughed and said no, but he’d have a long, hard think about that one! She made a low moaning sound in her throat, and said she could “feel the juices flowing” which nearly made Hero gag, and actually made him afraid of her. We were shocked when he told us. It was really distasteful. Fancy talking about fanny batter to someone else’s fella.

She was a difficult shape to dress, shall we say. She was a pretty faced blonde, with a neat size ten top half and a good bosom, but from the midriff down, a very surprising change in body form occurred. Top half firm and slender, no doubt about it, but the rest of her was pushing a good size eighteen, with thighs like prime hams. Hero could not take his eyes off them. She had huge porky knees like body builder’s shoulders, and the thickest ankles and chubbiest feet to ever pop over the top of a pair of cabin shoes. It looked like she was wearing inflatable tights. Her hips, tummy and bottom jutted out from her slim torso all the way round, like a beer garden table under a closed parasol, and while her upper body movements were quick and grabby, the lower half had definite waddle. Later when we discussed this unusual physical arrangement, Hero made us roar with laughter by saying she had a waist like a Subuteo player’s base. It looked like someone had welded a Barbie Doll on to a Sumo wrestler. But it wasn’t the shape of her that caused consternation. It was her behavior down route.

She came out with the crew to Luke’s club and to watch her you’d think she had just been released from a rusty chastity belt. She pinched male bottoms, grabbed the crotches of young men with surprising vigor as they brushed past her, and thrust her boobs at any man in the vicinity on the dance floor. She snogged the face off an astonished young Brazilian, who then had to wriggle out of her grasp, and make a run for it. We all watched on in horror, as she got more and more pissed and leery. Helen, one of the younger members of our crew forced to temporarily befriend her, suggested she come back to the hotel, to all our relief. By this time Denise had picked up a couple of young guys and was cuddling them, inviting them back to her room for a party. The four of them left, Helen looking decidedly uneasy, and dragging her feet against the pull of Denise’s drunken exuberance. Poor Helen, she was regretting her decision almost immediately.

We heard no more until the next day. The three of us were enjoying a morning coffee and a bit of breakfast, before heading off to Luke’s beach club for the day. We were just in the middle of a giggly discussion about Denise and her leather bustier when in to the dining room came a furious looking Helen, and we waved her over to join us. She plonked herself down, and as we could see she was seething about something, I thought it best to get her a coffee and get her settled, so she would spill the beans. Well, out it all came, to our joy. She had returned with Denise and the two lads, who spoke no English, to the hotel in the early hours, thinking she could disappear to her room and leave them to whatever they wanted to get up to. By this time Denise had chosen the one she wanted, and seemed to think that Helen would accept the remainder. She got Helen on one side and whispered that she couldn’t go to her room, as our Captain was in her bed waiting for her, which was exciting for us to hear, we had no idea she’d already shagged him. ( And he was a right old bugger, who looked exactly like Tommy Steel. In fact we’d amused ourselves several times near him on the crew bus by singing “Half A Sixpence” and “Once I had a Little White Bull” under our breaths.) Denise pleaded and persuaded Helen to let them have a drink in her room instead, and although Helen initially refused, eventually she was embarrassed enough by Denise’s baby talk and pouting “Pretty pleases!” to relent. Big mistake for the poor lass.

She sat on the bed with the stranger, made him coffee and watched the telly, while Denise snogged her way to the bathroom with her young lad and locked the door. Helen said, with cringing horror, her and the young man’s shy mate had to sit through forty minutes of sexual grunting and a strange cooing sound, emanating from the bathroom, while attempting to make small talk unsuccessfully. Out came Denise flushed and happy and still with her hands all over the guy. She snogged him at the door, then picked up her bag, gave a slurry thank you to Helen, and stumbled out the door, leaving Helen to face the guys, and tell them a firm good night. She had to push them out of her room while they jabbered in Portuguese, obviously expecting a bed for the night. By this time, she was exhausted, and angry with the departed Denise, her senior by at least eighteen years, who had behaved like a slutty teenager at a Pontin’s disco, and then abandoned her to deal with the pick-ups.

It wasn’t until much later that the excrement really hit the fan for poor Helen. After a troubled slumber, she had arisen to face the day and knew we were meeting for breakfast so decided to join us, and dish the dirt on her Denise experience. She got a nice hot shower, and washed her hair, just as normal, like we all do, not expecting anything untoward as she reached for a towel off the rail on the end wall of the bath. When she pulled it round her it seemed damp, but still, she knew she hadn’t used it. Maybe it just felt damp from the steam, so she continued drying her body with it. When she pulled the smaller one off the rail to wrap her hair, this one was definitely wet. She held it up confused, and then in a suspicious and doubtful state, she sniffed it. One whiff was enough for her to fling it across the bathroom in shock and disgust. It was soaking wet with piss. In fact, it was stained yellow with piss. All the towels on the rail were wet, some more soaked than others. She was disbelieving and in her naiveté, baffled. Then she noticed the floor, it was wet too behind the toilet, and she knew for a fact she hadn’t soaked it with her shower. She threw some pieces of loo paper down to soak it up and when they turned to lemon sog, her hideous suspicions were confirmed. The floor had been soaked by a very different kind of shower, the acrid golden urine kind. And that sort of shower could only have come from two sources. The bladders of her late night bathroom borrowers. She was absolutely f**king enraged, and threw the towel she was draped in down on the floor to soak up the piddle puddle, and got back under the hot water immediately. She scrubbed till she was raw, and still she felt filthy.

She had to dry herself off on a T-shirt, and then wrapped it round her hair. By this time her rage at Denise knew no bounds. We were agog for every detail, Hero staring and secretly delighted to be included. We’re sure that he has trouble believing everything that goes on down route sometimes, so this was good for him to be involved at grass roots level. Helen continued with her tale of fury, and told us how she had dressed, and stormed down the corridor to Denise’s room and banged hard on the door. Eventually, after some muffled sounds of muttering and shuffling from inside, a male voice (Our Captain Tommy Steel’s actually) piped up “No thanks, we’re still sleeping.” Helen banged again and shouted for Denise to come out. The door finally opened and a pretty little face with panda eyes and a shock of blonde fluff peered round. Helen reached in, got hold of Denise’s hair and dragged her in to the corridor.

We leaned forward, giddy with excitement, this was the best thing we’d heard in ages! “Was there a fight!?” I asked “Did you punch her!?” asked Hero. “Go on!” Jue said breathlessly. No, Helen hadn’t punched her, but she had pulled her hair and slapped her face, which was funnier, because Denise’s eyes filled with tears, and she asked what was wrong in a really wounded way. When Helen said, “You! You dirty cat, I’ve just dried myself with the towels you peed on! What the f**k are you playing at?” Denise looked confused, said “Oh right. Sorry about that.” Helen screamed “Sorry! Sorry! How dare you?” We gasped, “What did she say back?” whispered Julie. “That it was just a bit of fun, and she thought she’d mopped it all up.” raged Helen. Denise had gone back in to her room, and returned a few seconds later with an arm full of towels from her bathroom. Helen made her come to her room by marching her down the corridor to collect the dirty ones, so that the Maid didn’t think it was Helen who had wee’d on hotel property.
Denise still wasn’t fully embarrassed and simply dumped them on the Maid’s trolley and got fresh ones as she went past. As she went in to her own door, she turned back to Helen and in a stage whisper said “Don’t tell anyone, will you?”

Hero was disgusted but pleased to be involved, Jue and I had all our suspicions confirmed that Denise was kinky, and Helen made sure absolutely everyone knew about it. Especially our Captain, who looked shame faced, like he was hiding something, which he was. We laid it on really thick, and kept repeating “Did you hear? Denise peed on Helen’s towels, and Helen dried her face with them!” (Which was an exaggeration but the general gist.) The Captain just coughed and said it must have been a misunderstanding. Yeah right! What a load of little white bull!