Trouble In A Bubble.

Say Mercy – I Screwed Two Girls From Work Who Are Both Insomniac Alcoholic Binge Drinkers, And I Emerge Unscathed

There’s a common social rule that says not to date your co-workers. I said to myself, I probably shouldn’t date Mercy.. What if it turns out bad and I have to see her every day? Yes, I probably shouldn’t. But I’m going to anyway.

She was a gorgeous goth looking hellenic type girl, with big tits. She would walk in with the training group. I was working at a call centre and there was a high turn-over. Consequentemente they were always training new people. She came through a week or two after me.

I would stare at her and smile as she walked past.

She told me later that she kept thinking “Why is that guy staring at me? Do I have something on my shirt? Is my hair okay?” and so on.

But after a while she would smile back, and wave.

It was strange. I hardly remember talking to her. Maybe I introduced myself once. Then for some reason she was designated the seat next to me, just for the day. I remember she kept touching my leg and shit. I was worried the boss was going to look over and see us all over each other and – I don’t know what. Give us a dirty look I guess. We were writing back and forth on a scrap of paper between calls, ending with me writing “Goddamn. I’m going to take you under the desk and make out with you.”

She hesitated for a second, and I thought I’d gone too far.

Then she wrote “I don’t think we’d get away with that ”

Saturday. Long after dark, maybe 10:30 pm. Long story short. I got to her place, I grabbed her and made out with her. She was drunk.

The thing was, there was this drunken motherfucker. Some guy her brother knew from the pub. He started trying to interrogate me just to be a dick, trying to cockblock me or something. He ended up getting into his truck – blind drunk – tearing up the road, with traffic backed up for five cars while he reversed out. That guy was a fucking wanker.

So we had sex that weekend. That is, two of us did. That guy probably masturbated with his tears.  The sex was really good.

THEN

Wake up on Monday. Hmm. I wondered if it would be something to worry about.

Once again, it’s one of those moments: If anything can make this weird, a chick can. I guess for the sake of my co-workers, I decide to act like I’ve never had sex with her. Nowadays I have to wonder if anybody gave a shit, except for Charlie and Ange, trying to pry every detail of my sex life out of everything that walks, struggling to give their lives meaning. Probably didn’t really matter.

Saturday rolls around again. It’s like 5 pm. I call up Mercy and tell her I’m coming over. She makes every single excuse in the book. I say that’s fine, I’ll be there in an hour, and hang up.

On the train I ran into Vance, who sits in the booth next to me at work. He asked me where I’m going. I said I’m going to see a girl. He’s like oh ok what’s her name. I said actually i’m going to see Mercy – but don’t tell anyone at work. He says really, and asked what the deal is between us. I told him I’m not sure yet.

This time she’s more sober. She says we’re not having sex. I said that’s fine. By the time I’m in bed with her and making out with her… She’s still saying we’re not having sex. She must have said it a lot because I don’t give up without some serious manoeuvring. By 2 am, I’m asleep. She fucking pounces on me. I can smell the pheremones on her breath.

I say to her mockingly: “We’re not having sex Mercy”.

She says: “Ohhh shut up and fuck me”. I laugh and oblige.

Sex with Mercy is really good. She has D cup breasts that hang down kind of low, smooth white skin all over her body. She’s not fat, but she has great lovehandles. When she gets going, her pussy really runs, seriously. It’s kind of weird, because when I took my dick out, there was like globs of mucus all over it. Kind of gross. But at least I knew she was enjoying herself.

A few days later, maybe I was having smoko with Vance or something. He asked me how it was going with Mercy. I said “never mind!” – and to me it’s perfectly obvious by saying “never mind!” in that exact tone, it means I’ve been fucking her brains out on the regular. I don’t think Vance really understood that subtlety though.  Guys just don’t understand the life of a player.

We had a work party and it was at my local, the Belmore. Everyone was there. Vance was there and Mercy was there. I was there. I’d go over to talk to Mercy and she would say “Oh hey, gotta go, I’ve got to find Vance”. It confused the hell out of me. I really like this girl, and I thought she really liked me, and here she is running after another guy. Looking back on it now, I seems as if I must have been such a child. It was about 8 months ago.

Finally Mercy says to me “I was trying to get Vance to come to Newcastle so I could set him up with Gretel” and I think “Ohhh.”

I’m walking to the train station with Mercy. I try to put my arm around her. She says: “I’m not cold!”

Out of the blue she turns to me and asks: “So did I make you jealous?”

“Fuck yeah you made me jealous.”

And I think there was a silent “good” implied.

Then when we got on the train. Violet is there too for some reason. It feels as if I have an energy surrounding me that makes Mercy lean away from me. There’s a silent moment and I think “You know what. Fuck it. Nothing’s worth ruining my night. Nothing should be big enough that it stops me feeling good.” Just then, I make a decision to feel good and not care whether Mercy likes me or not.

Straight-a-fucking-way, everything turns around. It’s like magic. Instead of being repelled, Mercy starts touching me and shit. A lesson in practical female psychology right there.

After that… I don’t really know what happened. I must have tried to get her to come out with me a few times, but she just sort of wouldn’t. It was weird.

A few weeks later a new group of girls comes through at work. I probably checked them out a few times but don’t really notice.

We have a meeting with the client and I shimmy in a bit late. There’s no seats left so I sit up the back corner with Lucius. Mercy joins us. I’m making wisecracks at everything Puneet says. Real professional Jones – but Puneet doesn’t seem to mind. Everyone’s laughing and Puneet makes some jokes too. Pity I can’t remember a single thing I said because it was all really funny – you’ll just have to trust me.

Now, there’s only two nightclubs in Maitland… sort of. The Clubhouse and the Brewery. Or as I like to call them, the Scrubhouse and the Screwery. That Friday, everyone from work decided to go out to the Clubhouse and get wasted.

I got there at midnight or so. I’d been at the Belmore for a few hours so I was warmed up and talkative.

I went out to the beer-garden-verandah-thing they have there, and high fived all the guys. Pretty packed because it’s a small area and the only place you can smoke there. Mercy was standing there and I said hi. I take a seat. Sitting in front of me is Amity, brunette, innocent face, huge eyes like Betty Boop. Also has some of the huge-fucking-normousest breasts i’ve ever seen in real life, and even comparing very fucking favourably to those I’ve seen on the internet.  She’d been listening to all my jokes in the meeting before. Every girl loves a class clown.

Now, I didn’t notice it at the time, but it’s an extremely subtle thing.  For all you kids playing at home, see if you can figure out what she meant before I tell you.

She says “You know, I’m thinking of getting my breasts reduced.”

Translation: “OMG LOOK AT MY BOOBS”

I couldn’t help but oblige… Some icebreaker though. I’m not even sure if I’d introduced myself at this point.

“No!! You can’t!” I laughed. “That would be a crime against nature!”

She touches each of them and says “One is harder than the other. See?”

Translation: “OMG TOUCH MY BOOBIES”

I obliged. I said “Sure, uhh, one is harder than the other” But I didn’t really notice. Heh does this shit really happen to me? For legal reasons, no, no it doesn’t, and resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental… But otherwise, yes, yes it does. Damn I’m sexy.

Sharon wanted me to touch her boobies too but I didn’t. Apparently hers are fake but I hadn’t heard that at the time… Otherwise I probably would have been more curious.

Whiz forward a few minutes. I’m sitting on a couch with Amity and she’s asking if I’m drunk. She thinks I’m talking to her out of sympathy. This is probably a big flashing neon signal: “LOW SELF ESTEEM! DONT GET TOO CLOSE!” but I don’t really care because I only intend on having sex with her, so that makes it alright. Get the digits.

Now I’m standing by the dancefloor and Amity is hanging off me to my left. She keeps grabbing me and making out with me. Mercy is standing a metre and a half away to my right, talking to Lucius. Archer is a few metres away on the dancefloor. He is pizzissed out of his brizzain.

Lucius comes up to me and he’s like “Hey… how’s it going with big tits?” The music is loud so Amity can’t hear us talking.

I say “Heh. It’s going alright”. Perhaps he hasn’t noticed that she’s hanging off me as if her life depended on it.

“You should ask her what she thinks of a 25 year old guy who sleeps with a teddybear. My buddy in Sydney uses it as an opener all the time.”

I give him an amused smile, and put up my hand to signify stop.

I pull Amity in and make out with her.

Meanwhile, across the other side of the room, Archer is in a completely different place altogether. Archer is four and a half sheets to the wind. And he’s kissing Ange.

Now Archer has a gorgeous girlfriend, Ness – Vanessa. They live together in Dungog. Ness is gorgeous. Angela is… not. But apparently Ange has one vital quality which Ness does not have at this point… Proximity. Ange is there.

Archer comes over and Amity is like “OMG you kissed Ange! Don’t you have a GIIIrlfriend!?”

Archer doesn’t skip a beat. He says, “So what? A kiss is nothing.” Grabs me, and kisses me.

I laugh, grab him, and give him a peck on the neck. Spit out the hair from his 7 o’ day shadow.

As an aside, I ran into Ange at the same club about 3 weeks later. She’s off her face. She says to me “HEYyy ohh my gooodd Jones I am so drunk!!! hey!!! heyy!!! heyyyyyy!!! hey want to hear a secret? Can you keep a secret? Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“I had sex with Archer!!!”

“Uhh… dude… that’s not really a secret. You’ve been hinting at it very strongly at work for the last three weeks.”

“It was amazing!!!”

So anyway, Amity keeps saying to me “Oh my god… my friends deserted me! How terrible! Now where am I supposed to sleep?”

So eventually I either take the bait, or notice the hint “You’ll sleep at my place. Let’s go.”

And we left.

Female insanity syndrome. Some things guys will never be able to understand about women. A girl gets dressed up to go to the club under the pretext of wanting to dance. She wears high heels.

“My feet hurt.”

“Alright, we’ll get a cab. Come over here”

“But my feet hurt!”

“Do you want a piggyback?”

“Nooo.”

“Okay, then shut the fuck up.”

Maybe it didn’t go down exactly like that. Point is, we got a cab back to my place. She stops dead at the arch in the front yard. I say: “Come on, let’s go in.”

“Wait… You realise I’m not going to have sex with you right? Like, you didn’t think I was going to have sex with you tonight did you?”

In retrospect, this is probably the moment she realised I was too cool to fuck on the first night of meeting each other, and wanted to hold out to make it seem like she was a high quality girl, a girl of standards. Whatever. Kind of ruined that later when I realised she knew two friends of mine, who are brothers (of each other, not of mine) and she’d had sex with them both. I assume not at the same time, but then with girls like this, it does pay not to assume.

I rolled my eyes “Yes.”

“Oh my god… I can’t believe you thought I was going to have sex with you.”

I sigh.

“Maybe I should go. I probably should go. Let me get a cab.”

“No it’s fine. Come in.”

I figure she’s probably going to have sex with me despite whatever she says.

Go in. Listen to some music. Drink some water. She needs it. Turns out she’s on E and it’s the first time she’s ever dropped. Okay.

We end up in bed, of course. I make out with her, and several times I’m trying to put my hand down her pants, take off her shirt blah blah blah. Every time she says no no I can’t.

After about two hours of this I think, fuck it, I’m tired. I roll over and start going to sleep. She says “Ohhh don’t be like that. Come on baby…. you can play with my tits”

Ding. My face lights up and she takes her shirt and bra off. So squishy. Squeezing these babies is like a great stress relief.

So I’m sucking on her titties and making out with her. Then she starts moving her face towards my genitals. I pull her face up to me. Uh uh, no no.

I don’t tell her, but I’ve actually got thrush ointment rubbed all over my dick, and don’t want to stop foreplay to explain the peculiar taste. Imagine what I would say: “Oh yeah. You know athlete’s foot… well I have it on my weiner. That’s right, I have a fungal mouldy weiner”

Anyway, as nice as these titties are, it’s 4 am and I want some sleep. I turn over again and go to pass out. I don’t think I get 20 minutes sleep without her waking me up again to talk. She’s on E. I remember her saying “You know.. you’re probably like the coolest guy I’ve ever met.” I rolled my eyes.

We don’t end up having sex and she takes a taxi home in the morning.

I’m getting lunch on Monday at More-ish and Mercy comes up behind me in the line. She’s got a big smile and she’s like “So… how’s Tits Mcgee?

I’m like “What? Hah Oh she’s fine.”

“Cool. Hey, does she drive?”

“Ah. no…”

“She wouldn’t need any airbags hey?”

I laugh nervously at her and slap her arm.

I continued to see Amity for a couple of weeks.

She confided in me that she never sleeps. She just lies there for six hours a night and pretends. Righto.

Mercy was similar. She’d come into work and I’d come over to say hi. She was in a funny mood. She was in a fucking crazy mood.

“Mercy.. how many days has it been since you’ve slept?” She didn’t really know, maybe three. Righto.

I had some slightly-better-than-okay sex, with Amity. She enjoyed it a lot because we fucked for like half an hour or 45 minutes and I just kept going. She said I was the best root she’d ever had. But then she says: “Sex with you is weird.”

And I say “Cool.”

“You never come.”

And I say “Yep.”

“Why don’t you come?”

“I don’t know. It’s uncomfortable.”

After like an hour of whining, I fucked her without a condom and I did come. I resented her for it.

When you’re on the fence about a girl – she might be really physically attractive, but she has a personality that makes you just… eh – when she makes you come, you’re pretty much like: okay, that’s done, don’t want to do it again.

You know, it’s a funny thing. In my experience, girls get looser when they have more sex. Seems to be an obvious thing, right? Like a ligament that gets stretched more often -  it’s more flexible. A lot of gynecologists dispute this, and say that no, of course a girl will return to her natural size after sex. Some girls are just looser and some are just tighter. Some gynos even go so far as to say that if a girl feels looser, that just means her juices are running more, and you should be happy that you turn her on so much. Needless to say, I found it hard to believe, being that every single experience I had with women pointed in the other direction. Feminist crap.

Though, holding that belief for a while helped me not to judge girls on how many sexual partners they’d had. After all, I’m a big slut, and I don’t see anything wrong with me doing it… over and over, with different partners, in different positions, and in different places.

However, there is a wildcard. I remember (nearly) having sex with a woman in her late thirties. She’d had two children… but hadn’t had sex in a year. I couldn’t get hard enough to fuck that tight pussy. It was tighter than any virgin I’d ever fucked.

I asked Grem about it… natural… and nowadays I tend to think it’s purely psychological. And if a girl is more promiscuous, she will tend to be more relaxed when she’s having sex with strangers, and hence… loose. A virgin will be uncomfortable having sex, hence, tight.

Anyway, Amity messages me before the weekend, she wants to hang out on Sunday. I didn’t want to, but I said okay, because I didn’t want to confront her.

She messages me on Saturday night. She’s drunk. Very drunk. Like every weekend I’ve known her. Bleh. She texts “look I have to know where we stand”.

“Ha ha what do you want, a statement of intention? I haven’t done that since I was 17”

Actually I’d never done it, so I’m not exactly sure why I said that. I’ve seen her like three times and she’s implying she wants me to commit. Turns out, this really isn’t high school.

She writes back “no… well actually, yeah, that would be good”

I said “Okay. Here’s how it’s gonna go down. I see you on the weekends, possibly have sex with you, continue to see other girls in the meantime.”

In retrospect I kind of wish I’d said “let’s just be friends” instead, because then it keeps the door open to me having sex with her again if I’m horny. But at the time, I was pleased with the result. Needless to say, she didn’t take it very well.

“Get fucked I don’t need that shit in my life”

I texted “okay”.

So I see her at work the following week. She just ignores me. Sweet. Fine by me… well, more or less. Turns out dating girls at work isn’t weird at all.

Amity gets a new job and stops coming in.

Mercy doesn’t find a new job, and gets fired. She starts drinking full time.

A month or two later, Lucius was leaving for Sweden, to marry his girlfriend and future mother of his child. I head to his place to have some drinks and shit with him and some guys. Brad is there… Lucius’s friends from Penrith are there, Mike and Julius… Saraid and her new boyfriend are there. Dave is there. Mercy shows up pissed out of her brain.

I remember I was sitting out on the back patio. I’m talking to Mercy. Saraid and Ant are on the other side of the table. They stop giggling incessantly at each other for a moment, and kiss… New love.. I look at Mercy. She leans in towards me. I grab her and kiss her on the lips.

She says “You’re too… grabby.”

“I’m a man, I take what I want.”

“You take too much.”

“No. I’m a man and I’m right. You’re a woman and you’re wrong. It’s like a natural law in nature” I say with a smile on my face. I’d had a couple of drinks by this stage.

She picks up my beer and walks off. I follow her and try to take my beer back. Of course she’s like “NOOO THIS is MYY BEER ITS MINE ITS MINE” like a little kid and won’t let me have it. She probably even believes it. I get this feeling: “I’m not sure what is wrong here, but there is something very wrong here”. I go to the fridge and get another beer.

I’m walking with Lucius, we’re coming back from Maccas. Julius and Mike are ahead of us, wrestling on the road, causing trouble. Lucius says to me “Man, that Mercy is crazy. You know, couple of weeks ago, we went to the pub together and we played pool. By the end of the night, she kept asking me if we could have sex. She said ‘Ohh come on, no one has to know. Your girlfriend is in Sweden, she won’t know.’ If I was single I would have. I did feel her boobies though.”

And I thought, “Oh.” My heart sinks. Of course, Lucius didn’t know that I had been seeing Mercy. I didn’t really care to share details at work of “Hey guess what! I’m fucking the new girl!”. It’s not really my style.. not exactly professional. So I said “Oh.” Of course I had no real reason to feel jealous. I’m seeing other girls. Mercy isn’t my girlfriend or anything. But I did want her to be, and here she was trying to fuck my friends. Not very motivating.

Saraid told off Lucius for leading Mercy on. I think hm okay. Saraid was leaving and said to make sure no one takes advantage of Mercy. I think hmmm, okay. She said to me “Jones, you’re a good guy. Take care of her.” I said “I’m a good guy?” and laughed. Saraid is like 26 or so, but looks and sounds about a timid 19. Responsible tone now though.

I remember I’m sitting on the couch watching TV, feeling miserable. I get that thought in my head again.

“Waiiiit…. Wait wait wait. You know what. Nothing’s worth spoiling my night. No sake feeling sad or cut up about it. Why not be happy?” So I decided to be happy, and I was.

Mercy came in and sat down on the floor next to me. Then she started to lean against my legs. Then she got up, sat next to me, and put her head in my lap. I’m like “Mercy, please. Get off me.” calmly, without emotion.

A minute later she’s on her feet screaming at me “WHY DO YOU HATE ME??? WHY ARE YOU ANGRY AT ME???” Succubus.

I laugh and say “I’m not angry at you.” Mike says “Hey relax baby, you’ve got nice tits.”

“Why are you treating me like this?? Why are you so angry at me??”

“Mercy. You’re drunk. Go home.”

“WHY ARE YOU ANGRY AT ME? Look, come outside and talk.”

“If you want to talk, we can talk when you’re sober.”

She took my beer and moved into the kitchen.

She yells from the kitchen “How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!”

I’m laughing at her, and I have a big smile on my face, but I get up and walk into the kitchen saying “What the fuck did you just say?” because it’s blatant to me that if we ever had a friendship… she’s already broken every rule in the book.

As I move towards her, she says “Oh so now you’re going to be a man at last.”

I grab my beer out of her hand. She goes outside onto the patio, thinking I’ll follow. I go back to the couch. I don’t think i’m poeticising the truth when I say… this girl is a fucking psycho.

For a while I used to idolise Marlon Brando in “A Streetcar Named Desire”. Soon after this incident I gave that up. If you’re going to become Stanley Kowalski, you’re probably going to end up having an affair with Blanche Dubois.

Later, me and Mike and Lucius and Julius are playing drinking games. I walk past Lucius’s housemate’s room and inside is Brad with Mercy all on top of him, like she’s trying to spoon him, fully clothed. I don’t think anything of it.

Still later, Dave is going home and he says he’ll give Mercy a lift.

“Yeahhhhh just take me to the staaaaation. I’ll be fiiine.”

Dave says “Sure”.

I ask him to do me a favour and take her home (half an hour out of his way). He says “Definitely. I wouldn’t leave her at a station in that state.” Mercy barges past me and doesn’t say goodbye. Come to think of it, that was probably the last time I ever saw her.

I’m trying to get some sleep on Lucius’s couch. His housemates come in. Mel walks into her room and screams.

“ARRH! WHY is there a naked man on my bed??”

Lucius gets up and finds Brad passed out on Mel’s bed. He appears to have pissed himself.

Brad asks Lucius sincerely: “urgggh…?

“Why am I naked? I never get naked in other people’s houses…”

Lucius says “Yeah. Do you normally piss yourself in other people’s houses?”

“That’s not… – I must have spilt my drink or something.”

Lucius gives him a towel and hands him his clothes and helps him find a bed that isn’t Mel’s.

We rip the shit out of Brad for pissing himself. It doesn’t stop till we go to sleep, and it starts again when we wake up. Just as Brad’s girlfriend is arriving to pick him up, someone mentions something about Mercy being all over him and he says “Shhhh”. And I think “Ohh. I guess that explains why Brad was naked and covered in… fluid.”

On the whole, the Mercy escapade was completely ridiculous, and I must say I feel pretty good about the whole incident. Though, I was tempted to ask “Why is every girl I date either: an insomniac, or an alcoholic, or both?” but I didn’t, because I was scared that I might get an answer that involved a new girl, and maybe amphetamines or valium, as an added bonus.

Boning chicks from work: Two Thumbs Up.

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