At this point I should, perhaps, introduce the other four holiday makers. Loudest of all is Big Joe. Joe had been Big Joe since first year. He currently stood at 6’3″ and showed no signs of stopping. Tall and slim with cropped, reddish hair Joe is blessed, or cursed, with a redheads fair skin that will only ever become a tan if somebody took the effort to join up the freckles with a brown felt tip pen. Joe hadn’t brought any sun block. He had brought baseball caps and long sleeved shirts. Joe played centre half for the football team which is defence. The way he played mirrors his personality. Straight forward, no nonsense, hard and fair.
Little Joe isn’t really little. It’s all relative. He was about 5’8″ but as long as Big Joe is around he would always be Little Joe. Except in the cock department. Little Joe is what you might call very well endowed. Long and thick, he is quite rightly proud of it. So proud that almost every time he gets drunk he has to whip it out and brandish it like a light sabre until one of us ushers him away before the bouncers arrive. Strangely enough few ladies ever seemed to be offended unless they were registering their disapproval with a mixture of gasps and whoops and rather un-ladylike whistles. Little Joe has a compact well developed, muscular body with well-defined abdominals and pectorals. He has a mop of unruly, brown hair that give him a cheeky, boyish appearance which makes him very popular with the girls even before he brings his rather impressive cock blinking into the light.
Then there’s Robbie. His real name is David but he is known as Robbie because of his likeness to Robbie Williams, the singer from the British boy band ‘Take That’. He doesn’t really look like him unless you count black hair, twinkly eyes, devilish grin and impish smile as being Robbie Williams-esque. His nickname is more to do with his patented chat up line whereby he sidles up to an unsuspecting female and whispers ‘Let me entertain you’. This usually results in raucous, mocking laughter, a slap around the face and/or projectile vomiting from said females. I doubt the real Robbie Williams ever suffered such indignities. To be fair Robbie is a good looking guy who, even at his tender age, has an impressive degree of success with the ladies. He was in good physical shape and his torso, for some reason, hadn’t yet been overgrown with hair. He was a true smoothy.
And finally there’s Ewan or, as he is known to us, ‘Diego’. His nickname came about because our code word for his older sister is ‘Diego’. His sisters’ name is Donna. She is gorgeous. We all want to ‘Marry Donna’. Consequently, she and poor old Ewan became Diego Marry Donna, a play on the name of the famous Argentinian footballer. I know, I know. What can I say? Sixth form schoolboy humour that we thought was quite clever. Ewan/Diego is the joker of the group. He is always playing outrageous pranks, telling outrageous jokes and generally being outrageous. There was no nastiness in him at all. He has a great personality and is universally popular. He is also the only ‘blondie’ in the group. He kept his hair short and topped with a cute ‘Tin-Tin’ flick at the front. He is blue eyed too and looks very Scandinavian.
After messing up Diego’s perfectly gelled hair and giving Big Joe a ‘dead arm’ in return for the ‘Chinese burn’ he had just given me we shouldered our bags and made our way to the check in desk. I gave Dad a big ‘man hug’ and felt quite special until he gave the rest of the group big ‘man hugs’ like he had known them for years and he was never going to see them again. We shuffled through to the departure lounge and I looked round for Maccy D’s and…………..there wasn’t one. What? No Maccy D’s? Bollocks! However, there was an upmarket franchise that sold what looked like a Maccy D big breakfast at a price that unashamedly told their customers that they knew they were a captive audience. This was a disproportionate dent in my holiday cash already. A bad omen, I felt.
As we sat down to await our call to the gate the four ‘all — nighters’ gulped bottled water and energy drinks before resting their heads on the backs of the uncomfortable designer, as in designed by the Marquis De Sade, airport chairs and closing their eyes. John was off looking around the electronic gadget shops. Who buys 42″ Flat Screen HD TV’s in an airport departure lounge? How do they get it in the overhead locker? Two of lifes great mysteries right there.
I tucked into my expensive version of a fast food breakfast and let my eyes wander around departures. “My God,” I mumbled to myself around a mouthful of hash brown. There were gangs of girls around about my own age and a little older all going on holiday too. And they were already wearing their holiday outfits. Unbelievably short and tight denim shorts; See through lacey tops showing off their bras and breasts; Incredibly tight cropped top T-shirts showing off their breasts and belly button piercings and lower back or hip tattoos. There was every shade of pink clothing on display along with nipple outlines and camel toes. I was doing my best owl impression with my head turning through 360 degrees, trying not to miss a thing when a raven haired, pale skinned beauty caught me recklessly eyeballing her prominent mons barely concealed in baby pink velour shorts. She smiled a cheeky smile, held my gaze momentarily, turned on her heel and made a great show of bending at the waist to look for something in her hand luggage. Across her bottom was the word ‘Sassy’ in glittering silver lettering. But my eyes were drawn to the thin strip of material that was disappearing between the cheeks off her arse whilst beautifully encasing and framing her plump vulva.
Immediately I felt the familiar warm surge in my loins and the pre-erection twitch in my cock. I loved that feeling as the blood coursed through the veins and filled out my cock. I revelled in the feeling for a minute until I realised that I too was in my holiday gear and the confining properties of light cotton surfer shorts was nowhere near as effective as denim jeans.
Like an idiot I abruptly moved my burger carton to cover my nether region and my embarrassment. In doing so I crushed the opened ketchup sachet that I had balanced on my knee causing tomato coloured sauce to squirt across my hand luggage. This caused the group of girls with ‘Raven’ to burst out laughing. My face turned the same colour as the ketchup and I looked anywhere and everywhere apart from at ‘Raven’. When the laughter subsided, I risked a glance in ‘Ravens’ direction and she was looking straight at me. She smiled her cheeky smile once again, pulled her tight T-shirt down to stretch it smoothly over her breasts and then pulled her shorts up ever so slightly so that the seam forced its way between her pussy lips. Now that was what I called High Definition. My cock was raging by now. But just as I began to wonder if she would be on our flight, or be staying in our resort or even better in our hotel, ‘Raven’ and her friends were called to Gate 3. They were going to Greece. Not even close. Still, if the girls were so provocatively dressed and so outrageously sexual in the airport departure lounge what would they be like actually on holiday?