The Johnston’s Magical Trip
“Come on dude, we’ll go to the Gold Coast for the weekend; it’ll be sweet. Flights are cheap right now – up and back for $150 – I already checked it out. It’ll take your mind off things.”
“I dunno… I think I’d rather stay at home and drink Coopers feeling sorry for myself. I downloaded the new season of Dexter. Maybe I’ll just crawl into foetal position and cry.”
“Fuck that shit man. Don’t be a pussy. The world offers a lot of possibilities for a young single man. Like midget stripper threesomes.”
“Man… Even if I wanted to I couldn’t. I’m strapped.”
“Relax baby. I just got my tax return and I can cover the flight for you. Vamos, puta madre. I’m booking the flights now.”
“Urgh… okay.”
The plane hit the ground with a cringeworthy whirrgedewhirredethunkathunk. Anton jumped into a cab. Johnston fell into the same cab, and rubbed his eyes. They checked into the hotel. It was seven p.m. on Friday.
Johnston took a nap, and Anton woke him up by ordering a pay-per-view adult feature.
“OH… ARrghh… Yeah fuck me… fuck my ass good. AOohhhr!”
“Dude what the fuck? What is this shit?”
“…Asian Anal Happytime Four.”
Johnston covered his head with a pillow. “Motherfucker… I don’t even like Asian chicks.”
“Come on dude it’s past nine. Put on a collared shirt and let’s go.”
Johnston got dressed and sprayed on Jean-Paul Gaultier Pour Homme. “Let’s go to that place that looks like a log cabin from the inside. They play deep house.”
“They play commercial crap. That place is full of Wapanese tourists with cameras around their necks. Let’s go to Melba’s.”
Anton threw a condom at Johnston, who barely caught it, between two fingers. He studied the packet for a moment.
“Make sure you strap up. Statistics show that one in five young people have chlamydia.”
“I think at this stage I’m more likely to give a girl chlamydia… That fucking whore.”
“Yeah… It’s okay dude. We’re in the magical kingdom of paradise, and every fruit is yours for the tasting. Let’s go taste some magical fruit.”
Shoes. Door. Cab. Queue. ID. Drinks.
“Can I get two rusty nails please?”
“Sure… if you can tell me how to make one.”
“One part Scotch whisky… one part Drambuie, on the rocks.”
“Here’s to freedom,” said Johnston.
“Exactly. Here’s to freeballing… Feels good man. You should talk to that chick over there.”
“What, the troll with the three moles on her face?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“For a warm-up.”
“This isn’t little athletics.”
“You’ve been out of the game for a long time. Things have changed. New technology. Talk to the fatty to get into a talkative mood, then things will come easier when you get to the hot girl, every thing will flow easier.”
“Maybe… I was never good at this stuff. I don’t even know what to say.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you remember when we used to go to the movies and pick up girls in high school?”
“I remember you talking to girls and me watching.”
“Oh… yeah. No matter. Just go up to the troll and tell her you thought they looked cool so you came over to say hi.”
“But…”
“Go on.”
“Alright. No guts, no glory.”
“No nuts, no nookie.”
“No balls, no blowie in the bathroom.”
“Touché.”
Johnston gulped his rusty nail, started walking, and bombed. He walked back.
“There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
“In a word, no.”
“You just got rejected by the ugliest girl in the club. Things can only get better. There are some cute girls.”
“Give me a moment… I’m still recovering.”
“Recovery is for testicular cancer patients. Put your hand between your legs.”
“What? Why?”
“To check if they’re still there.” Anton cocked his leg as if he were about to make sure in the firmest way possible.
“Okay okay, I’m going.”
Johnston stumbled into a conversation with two Kiwi girls.
“I’m Johnston.”
“Yes, you are.” She said approvingly. The dark one was extroverted. Her name was Connie. The blonde was quiet and had curly hair. Her name was Debra.
Connie had a certain warmth, and she seemed to get excited about everything. Debra sat quietly and smiled, and sipped a vodka cranberry. Debra went to the bathroom. Johnston leaned in and kissed Connie on the lips. She grabbed him and nearly molested him. Debra came back, and someone had taken her chair. Johnston was a little confused when Connie suggested she sit in Johnston’s lap. She did. She wrapped her arm around him and smiled sweetly.
Connie winked at him.
“So… there’s a pool back at my hotel,” he said. “Do you guys feel like taking a, uh, dip?”
Debra leaned up against his neck.
“Skinny-dipping?”
He pulled out his phone and texted Anton from across the room. “Gtg, catch you tomorrow bro.”
They got back to the hotel. As they walked through the hallway, he had his arms around both of the girls’ waists. He was trying to play it cool but the thought of an impending threesome was dominating his thoughts. What did it take to satisfy two women? Could he do it? What if it all went wrong?
“Which is your room?”
“It’s right up here.”
Debra collapsed onto the bed and Connie sat down and started feeling up her leg. Johnston stood in amazement for a moment.
Heavy petting. Condom. Insertion.
“Uh… uh…. uhh…”
After twenty seconds, Connie pushed him off and pulled up her panties.
“And that’s all you get.”
“W…what?”
Connie zipped her skirt and picked up her handbag. Debra followed suit.
Johnston just sat there on the tousled bed, his penis still throbbing within the condom. The expression on his face was a child’s expression.
Connie glanced in the mirror as she walked out. “Oh snap… I smeared my lipstick.” She pulled out her make up kit from her handbag and started touching up. “Hey do you think we could get Bobby to pick us up?”
“Nah, not tonight. He’s got a gig at the Palais.”
“Oh yeah. Fuck it, we’ll take a taxi… Shit, have you got cash?”
“Nah, I’ve got card though.”
“Oh, sweet as.” Connie closed her make up kit. Connie and Debra opened the hotel door, turned off the light, and walked out, leaving the door open.
Johnston lay there for a minute, wearing nothing but a shirt and a condom. He got up and closed the door. He picked up his phone and called Anton.
“Heeey what are you doing calling me?? Didn’t I just see you leave with TWO GIRLS??!”
“Man… I think I’m going to cry…”
