We had it planned like a real takedown. There were a couple of the guys with radios strung out along the route lurking in doorways and cars, tracking his route. He's an old-fashioned bloke. Still walks home to clear his head after a night (and day, no doubt) of unbridled lust. I called Cassie and warned her that if he went AWOL she shouldn't worry - well only a little bit anyway. She gave that throaty laugh of hers and told me to make sure he got his birthday present. I answered that I thought she'd already done the honours. Got another throaty laugh.

Keep your mind on the job in hand, Terry.

Sweet as a biscuit. He was nearing his block, the van screeched to a halt and we nicked him. Sack on his head, handcuffs and into the back of the van. He struggled for a while and then rolled on his back. I heard a muffled: "You could have just bloody asked me, ya bastards!" And he lay there shaking with what I presumed was laughter. Likes a good scam, does our Curry.

So we gave him the kidnap, dragged him out blindfolded and hauled him into the building. Once we had cuffed him to a central column we took off the gunny sack and he groaned. "Here? You brought me here? Not very imaginative, is it, boys?"

We sat about and laughed. "Where better? Plenty of booze, space for the floorshow and we got rid of the women..."

"Floorshow?" He repeated, already licking his lips.

"You got it. We can't have one of our boys reach thirty without giving him a public send off. Well, would we now?" Dino chuckled, emerging from the bar with a Scotch in his hand.

"So you're going to keep me chained up all night, are ya?" Lachlan asked. We looked at each other.

"You not gonna run?"

"And miss the floor show? You mental?"

So we let him go.

It was still early evening and the birthday boy lay around on one of the bench seats, watching satellite TV. Colin and Dominic were setting up the sound system. Jeff and Johnny were preparing the table for an impromptu buffet - all bought out and the things men like to eat. Bud strolled in and sat down with a beer, reading a newspaper. Lachlan flicked channels aimlessly. Hando was reading a book - it happens. The TV was crap, of course. Game shows, unfunny comedies, films no one would ever want to watch, so why were they made? Documentaries about political dictatorships...

"Oi...I was watching that...stop fucking flirting it about. You're not the only one here, ya know?" Hando reached over and grabbed the remote to return to the channel to his documentary.

"Thought you'd grown out of fascism, mate. We won the war. Hadn't you noticed...?"

Lachlan seemed a bit snappish - still suffering from last night's hangover or was it the excess of testosterone Cassie had roused in him? Hando was of course on a very short fuse having just broken with Scarlet. Even Bou's firm hand didn't seem to have made much impression on his mood. "What the fuck do you know, flyboy? Don't suppose you'd have lasted five minutes against a couple of Messerschmidts." He smirked and continued drinking from a bottle of beer. I stood, leaning on the wall, watching- just in case. We were already entering the danger zone and the party hadn't even started yet. Bud dropped the newspaper casually.

"We won the Air War as well, you dickhead. Pity you weren't in Dresden when we sent the B52s in..."

"Don't fucking talk like that. Dresden was a fucking abomination...and you know it..."

"The Blitz? Coventry? Targetting the Jewish Hospitals ...don't talk to me about abomination...the whole fucking Nazi Party was an act against humanity...just that you're so fucking ignorant you haven't got a clue..." Lachlan was not in a tolerant mood. I understood his objection to the uninformed opinions of young Adolf. He hadn't been there. He hadn't lost mates in a real war as men like Lachlan had. Hando still thinks his right wing philosophy is some kind of misunderstood noble cause.

"Ignorant? Your woman doesn't seem to think so. She reckons I know a thing or two. Did I ever mention we spent some time together?  She wanted breaking in properly...taught her a few tricks...like the way she sucks dick, Curry?" He pulled out his tongue and wiggled it crudely.

Lachlan blew. He was out of that chair and onto him like streaked lightening. Got a good right hook in, too, although he came back with a left to his gut that winded him. I was just about to go in when Bud grabbed Lachlan and hauled him across the room. He is one strong-armed bugger. Struggle as he might, Lachlan couldn't get out of the iron grip he had him in. Meanwhile I grabbed Hando in an armlock manhandling him more so than Bud was Lachlan- in fact Bud was pretty gentle. He told him to cool it...the little motherfucker would get what was coming to him, stuff like that.

I let Hando's arm go but when I saw his fist clench, I gave him a warning ram hard in the kidneys with a smile and a "Sorry, mate, my hand just slipped." Hando crumpled to the ground, landing full on a bar table which creaked under his dead weight, swayed and then crashed under him. He lay their groaning while Bud and I exchanged wry looks. Lachlan sniffed and wiped his nose. It was bleeding slightly.

"Well, that was fun..." I grinned. Hando shook his head and gave me an amused look. 

Bud smiled. "I needed that..."

Lachlan laughed. "Not a birthday if my nose doesn't bleed...."

"Thought that was the result of a night with the lovely Cass..." I taunted.

"Watch it, Thorne. I'm not scared of you..." Curry retorted but he was grinning at the memory.

Before we could say much more, Arthur ran in. "Aw..no...aw...flaming hell ...first casualty and we haven't even started yet. Uma will have something to say!"  He busied himself gathering up the pieces and carrying them out back while we just jeered at him for being such a good little boy.

Just then Cort loped through the door, surveyed the scene and ran his hand back through his hair. "Lord, are you a pack o' animals or what? The place is like a pig sty already. There's food everywhere, dirty beer glasses, the porch is full of cigarette butts, you've all been pissing in the flower beds and now this. And we haven't even started yet..." He rubbed his hands together with glee. "Still, I'm not too sure I would enjoy getting on the wrong side of Uma..."

At that the entire room burst out laughing. Max, Jack and Biebe wandered in to find out what the ruckus was all about - they'd been playing a game of darts. Even Hando rolling on the floor, pulled up his legs and howled at the sight of our fearsome gunslinger shivering at the thought of the wrath of Uma. Mind you, I reckon I wouldn't be too ready to explain the state of the pub after tonight to her either. She's quite a spitfire when she gets going. And she will no doubt hold me entirely responsible. But we weren't letting him get away with it.

"Save it, padre...you scared of a little girl like Uma? Forget pistol-whipped- Cort's pussy-whipped. Yes darlin', no darlin'...let me just take out the trash, darlin'...fuck Cort...show her who's boss..." Bud started.

"Play that game, Cort and you are fucked, mate." I told him. "Start wearing an apron and they will have your balls in a vice in no time. Mess is good for them. Keeps them busy."

"I rather think a man needs to make it clear who is the master of the house, Parson. There are some things that we just do not do. Thus it pleases them to think that we are like little children who need their guidance - it gives them a feeling of superiority, misguided as it may be..." Jack mused.

Max was chuckling at the conversation. "What's so funny, smart ass...? Like you would want to explain it to her? " Cort protested lamely.

"Hey, catch this?" Biebe pitched a baseball at me all of a sudden; I caught it and bowled it over to Max who then spun it back at me. Cort was jumping around trying to intercept it. "Come on guys, don't start that...you really want to break something else...?" Fuck you...!" Cort shouted as he failed to reach it again.

Hando was on his feet now and he caught the ball deftly. "OK, padre...see how good your reflexes are...I'm aiming for the flower vase..." and he let it fly in the direction of a rather splendid floral arrangement. Cort leapt up and retrieved the ball with a laugh. "Can't beat me at that game. I'm faster than all of you rolled together."

"That so? Let's see. Pitch it over..." Max threw out the challenge and from then it was bloody mayhem. Wherever they spun it, Cort was onto it- you'd think he had about eight arms. Each throw was aimed at a different ornament, the light fitting, the bar itself with its carefully arranged bottles, the overhead TV screen, the patio windows into the garden-  but he had them all. We were all hooting with laughter, Cort included- he was daring us to give him one he couldn't manage. And then he got his wish. As he jumped for a shot from Jack aimed at a statue on a pedestal, Hando kicked his legs from under him, Cort pitched forward and missed it. The ball hit the statue dead on and it shattered into a million pieces.

"Oh no, not that one! It's her favourite." I knelt to collect the pieces of the shattered statue. "Michelangelo's David. She got it in Italy."

Then we all burst out laughing. Colin fished out the rather pathetic excuse for a dick and asked if anyone had lost anything.

"I read this thing in the newspaper. Seems that David guy had a squint and bad posture..." I observed.

Dino raised his eyebrows. "Not to mention the genitalia of a toddler. Surely Uma wants a bit more than that? Or that why she lusts after my partner here?"

"Funny..." I pulled a wry face. Time he dropped that particular line.

But we cleaned up the place and Arthur added the statue down on the breakages'  list. I noticed Hando approach Curry, clapping him on the back. "Hey, mate...no hard feelings? I reckon I was a bit out of line. Now, don't you think you ought to smarten yourself up a bit? The girls'll be here in half an hour..."

"Girls?" he asked.

"Gotta get fucked on your birthday, mate. It's a rule. At least once..." Colin answered.

"Thought you said the girls were out for the evening..." Lachlan remarked lamely.

The whole gang roared with laughter. "No, sunshine...the hookers. We've got a nice little party driving up from the smoke. No expense spared. Real high-class tail. Put on a show and then ...whatever you fancy, mate. You get first pick, Curry. Just leave something for the rest of us, hey?" I grinned. "Spent half the day pulling a few strings here..."

"So...you did all this for my birthday then, did ya, ya bastards?" Lachlan grinned.

"We did. Last night was just a warm up. We were thinking birthday parties are for little boys. Men do it differently...Curry...you are getting the works...so get up there to one of the bathrooms. Shower, shave and wear clean undies...because they are coming off later, mate.  Remember the ladies are off out tonight to be naughty. But I think we can do more damage than a group of girls, eh, lads?"

Team talk. Psyching up the boys. It was a labour of love.

I told them they deserved it. On occasion it was only fair that we should have a night for the men - why not? Lachlan was having a birthday - a significant one at that- so it was only right that we should mark his enslavement in the ritual manner. Get pissed up, debagged and rooted. How could any sane woman possibly complain about that?

The food arrived just on time. We'd had it catered. All the crap men like to eat, none of this low- cal rabbit food, the girls try to work on us, thank you very much. We wanted meat: chicken, steaks, ribs etc; junk: pizzas, hot dogs, burgers and gallons of beer to wash it down with. The music system was pumping out rock music as we got ourselves tanked up and awaited the arrival of the ladies of the night.

So there we were all lying around the bar, throwing food at each other and necking beer as if it was going to be rationed. The conversation naturally turned to the purpose of the evening.

"So, Curry...lost your virginity yet, or are you waiting for the wedding night?" I asked.

"Piss off, Thorne," he answered, not quite so charming now the girls were not here.

"That means he hasn't." Bud observed. "You need a few tips from experienced men? Just say the word, kid."

Lachlan gave him a withering look. "Day I ask you lot for help will be a cold day in Hell, mate. I'm thirty...maybe not the youngest man here, but a helluva lot younger than most of you. Know what that means, fellas?"

"You're still looking for her clit?" Hando remarked. We all burst out laughing. 

"Perhaps I could give you a compass reading on that, sir?" Jack offered and laughed heartily at his joke. He wasn't the only one. Lachlan blew air out slowly.

"I meant I can get it up when and where I want. Don't pretend you're all still as active as you were when you were my age. I'm not buying that one," he riposted.

"Ah...that is well and good but women aren't really very interested in the number of erections you can manage in one day, boy. Can you sustain it? That is the real skill. Can you hold back even when they are giving you the benefit of their tender touch? The proof is not how many times you reach Elysium but how many they do. I would be more than happy to give you a few hints on self control..." Max was smirking at his Stoicism. I swear that wasn't the point of that particular philosophy.

"They haven't complained yet, make no mistake, mate." Lachlan defended his virility. 

"Technique's for small dicks. Seems like if you're big enough, they ain't gonna complain. Maybe that's your problem; Creator not given you enough in your pants?"

General merriment broke out as Bud grabbed his own groin and gesticulated crudely. 

"Maybe flyboy was a choirboy...reckon he was a bit of a good guy. You know the Creator. He thinks of everything- right hair, right walk, carriage, accent- he's sure to think of dick size..." Cort chuckled.

"Anything you lot are packing...Jesus Christ...what is it with you older guys? You got a chip on your shoulder? Makes you wonder what really goes on when the bedroom door shuts..." Lachlan threw down his gauntlet.

"Think that's a challenge too far, men. Let's get him measured. Bud...hold him still. Let's give him a Boys' night special..." I was enjoying this - been years since I'd been in a group of drunken boys determined to humiliate a mate. Too long.

"Christ...you mad fuckers...NO!!!" Curry screamed but it was hopeless. We had him stark bollock naked in no time, Bud found the cuffs and we got his hands out of the way. Then, pushed up against a cupboard, Colin produced a digital camera and we snapped away. Meanwhile Cort found a tape measure and we got a sweet little close up of his dick and the tape. Humiliation complete...almost. I must say, however that he had nothing to worry about. There are clearly some things that even the Creator can't control.

We spent the next half an hour emailing pictures to the girls' addies with comments like: 

 

 

It was the kind of puerile caper that makes grown men hysterical. We could hardly wait to hear their reaction when they next went online. Curry recovered from his little upset and was laughing himself by the time we'd freed his hands and allowed him access to his pants again. He was even beginning to strut a bit- no one had dared to laugh at his equipment. Enough said.

The conversation turned to bitching as the booze flowed. 

"So the Bareback Rider cried off tonight, did he? Lover boy got better things on his mind?" Colin muttered rolling a cigarette. "It's a wonder he can raise his leg, not to mention swing it over into the saddle these days." he observed, dragging on the ciggie as we sat around waiting for the main event to arrive.

"What's so fuckin' special about riding a horse with a bare ass? Like I couldn't do it? Jesus Christ!" Cort said.

"Like you'd want to? Where the fuck he put his balls? Or has he got any?" Bud grunted.

"If I have to hear his name again...East this...East that...fucking head case..." Hando added.

"What's his attraction? I find it incomprehensible. He's a mere boy, raw and unschooled. What draws women to swoon over him?" Jack wondered out loud.

"What the fuck's he got that we haven't?" Biebe added.

"Thirty inch waist?" I observed wryly. "Let's face it...that's what tonight is about. They want young flesh!"

Maximus laughed. "They like what they can control. Gives them a sense of ownership. Take it as a compliment. We are too powerful for them. Let them play their games, they'll come back to us and be begging for our favour. Just wait and see."

"After they plead headaches for the first few nights.  Just to make us feel like naughty boys for having had a good time..." Zack was moaning to nobody in particular

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Hando. "You trying to remind me who you've been boning lately?" he turned on Zack malevolently. I stood in between. How many blues were there going to be before this night was over? And were they all going to feature Hando? Fortunately it passed over and the two men backed off but another source of conflict was arising elsewhere-now attention was directed at Cort. Someone had made a comment about his little 'thing' with Angel recently and he had told him to keep his mouth shut. Jack subsequently jumped up and challenged anyone who mentioned Angel's name in a scurrilous manner that might harm her reputation.  Hando had to get in and observed, "Well, she did fuck him, ya Fat Bastard, so reckon that means she's not a virgin anymore. Stop griping. She's probably had more cocks than you've had puddings, you tosser." The next ten minutes were spent keeping the two of them apart

From then on, the Boys concentrated on getting themselves in the mood. More drinks and the conversation turned to sex- well, wouldn't you know? But we did start first with our second favourite drinking subject; I will not be crude enough to explain what got us on that track.

"You could imagine what they would have had to say about that," observed Lachlan. Work it out, girls.

"If women don't fart...how come they don't explode?" Cort mused.

Hando belched and laughed. "They fart but they just pretend it was us...or the dog..."

Biebe stood up and sauntered over to the garden where he pissed onto an ornamental plant in a pot. He seemed thoughtful. "What is their problem with shit? Like we don't know they do it?"

"Yeah, like they crap roses?" Bud added. We all shook our heads at the absurdity of the female sex.

"If I go into the woods and say something when she isn't around...am I still wrong?" Biebe added.

"Fucking A, John, what is that? And if we forget to lift up the seat or put it down...Jesus, I love it when they sit down and scream 'cos you've pissed all over the seat...worth the fuckin' earache..." Bud laughed.

Not a man among us didn't crack up at that observation. The revenge of the downtrodden male - piss on a dunny seat. The thought of how pathetic that actually was did cross my mind but I didn't point it out in the present company.

"And if they catch you wanking... "Stop doing that...the bed's rocking..." Hando lit up and muttered. "Where the fuck else am I supposed to do it? S'my bed."

Lachlan nodded sagely. "I read this article about wanking in an Aussie newspaper...these scientists from Melbourne Uni reckon that a bloke ought to blow his pipes out at least 3 times a week for health reasons...apart from giving it to the girls. Makes you think...perhaps you should do it every morning in the shower...?"

"You mean you don't anyway?" Cort snorted. "Hey, Hando...didn't know you were a scientist and all?" Hando leant back and gave the usual clenched fist shake at that. Have you ever seen drunken men when one of them says or does something not very funny but they all fall about? That was us then. For some reason Hando was called Professor Skin for the rest of the evening.

In the lull that followed, Lachlan chipped in with a joke.

"Hey there were these two sperm leading the pack, swimming for their lives. One says to the other: 'We anywhere near the ovaries yet, mate?' The other one replies, "No, fucking miles yet, mate....we're only just past the tonsils..." Lachlan laughed so much at his own joke that he fell off the chair and rolled around on his back. Mind you, the rest of us weren't much better. Jack was all "I say, sir, well done...that was excellent....tonsils, yes sir, most amusing if I may say so..."

"Here, lads. What makes this sound?" I droned an engine noise and waved my arms like wings. They all looked confused. "Looks like an aircraft to me, Thorne," said Jack, "Not sure I get your point..."

"Curry...coming...that right, Biggles...?" The others roared and Lachlan pulled himself back into his chair. "Very witty, boss, I'll get you for that."

"Count on it, Curry. And I'll get you back." My eyes glinted and I rested my tongue on my lower lip. Nothing like a good wind up.

"You know what I was dying to say last night? Johnny Ryan suddenly piped up. "Ya know when they brought that cake in? Curry Air...that another word for fart?"

You would have thought that was the funniest comment they had heard all year. The young men jumped up high five-ing Johnny. Even Nash seemed to find that hilarious and observed. "I can imagine how they would have reacted had we said anything to that effect. You can see those looks of patronizing disapproval that women have perfected so well. As though we are rather sad little boys...."

Which of course, we are not.

Before we could think of another anally-connected retort, however, Biebe introduced another profound topic for us to contemplate... "Where's the strangest place you've had it? "

Well, that was a doozie of an opener. "Terry?" Why do I always have to go first?

"Wank or shag?" I wanted clarification.

"Wank," came John's measured reply.

I thought. This required an evasive reply.... "Somewhere out of sight of that nosey parker next door... You know she caught me out back one morning and I swear she thought I was pissing in the drain.

"What were you doing?"

"Just arranging my balls. I mean...she was the one looking!" I protested. "...And then she gives me a bloody filthy look like I'm some kind of pervert for touching my own balls in private!"

They appreciated that. Typical female behaviour. "Dino?"

"In a swimming pool with this strange scorpion motif..."

"Like fuck, you did...!" I muttered, lighting up.

Dino grinned. "Proof of life, mate. She wasn't giving any up, anyway..."

"Fuck you..." I threw back. Christ, will he never let that one lie?

Biebe changed the subject quickly. "Cort?"

"The forest," he answered. "I like the open sky..." I pulled a face and looked at the soles of my boots. I'd been walking out there in the woods earlier. Cort grinned and called on the others. One by one they 'fessed up.  Most of the younger men were pretty standard. Who can shoot the farthest...Johnny and his mates (he claimed to have won). Driving his car while a mate and his girl did it very noisily on the back seat...Colin. (It was a straight road; I only needed one hand) Watching his next door neighbour changing her clothes in her bedroom...Arthur (who took a lot of coaxing - we told him after he coughed up that it was so pathetic that we really ought to disallow it - that is the normal reason for wanking not the most unusual)  Funniest was Hando's remark of "In East's bed." That was greeted by cheers of approval. God only knows what he was referring to or whether it had merely been made up to punish East for being the only man to have preferred his woman to our company tonight.

When it was Lachlan's turn and he answered smugly, "In front of Cassie..."we all threw food at him. Finally we returned the ball to Biebe's court, as it were, and he just laughed. "Jerk off? In Alaska? You want it to fall off? I once had to revive mine in a glass of brandy..."

"Why?" Bud asked.

"I'd rather not say," was John's enigmatic reply. "How about sex, then...strangest place you got laid...Terry." Me again?

"Fox hole," They all looked at me as if I had said something strange. Which I suppose I had. "Well, I was stuck there all night in a bombardment. Had to keep warm..." I explained

"In a fox's hole?" Lachlan snorted and spat beer a few feet. I raised my eyebrows but Max was onto that.

"Surely one of your men would have been more docile, Thorne?" I swore colourfully but had to laugh. 

"They have women in the forces these days, Max...really helps on those lonely nights on guard duty... I believe that is the point of females in the army..." I smirked at that and he raised his glass in acknowledgment. "OK, smart arse generalissimo...did you ever get it out in front of the legions?" I threw over at him, the others eager for an answer.

"Of course...on a daily basis in the bathhouse- but if you are referring to my most challenging sexual adventure...probably the couch of the emperor's daughter- in his tent-at the camp," he added the details with relish and that voice of his. Hoots all round.

"Lucky they didn't cut it off for that", Bud observed.

"That was the penalty for discovery...coupled with having it rammed down your throat..." There were winces all round but I wasn't letting him away with that.

"So they never caught you then? Or did they?" and gave him my smile.

Max looked at me and I read his thoughts but he obviously decided against vocalising them. "Ask Angel if she's walking straight yet." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he said it. Cort gave a sour look at the reminder that Max had had a fling with his new girl.

Now Jacko had not been following this conversation properly, having wandered off to get another bottle of rum from the bar. At that point he returned, heard Angel's name and shouted over... "Angel? Why is Angel's name being discussed?"

"We were just discussing how she walks..." I ventured gamely.

"Charming deportment, most charming...such carriage. So important in a woman..." Jack had missed the point entirely, thank God. All we needed now was Jack challenging Maximus to pistols at 10 paces.

"We were reminiscing about former amorous adventures, Jack. Where's the strangest place you've had congress?" I asked with a laugh, "The cable tier?"

Jack guffawed. "That hardly passes for strange. Where else would a midshipman go? The favourite location on any ship. You had to queue some nights. I dare say my most daring escapade would probably be the crow's nest. Although the 75 foot roll in high seas could often startle a young lady..."

Bud chuckled, "Your dick's 75 foot long? Jesus fucking Christ!" Jack gave him the eye. We all had another bout of hysterics.

"Hey, Cort...what 'bout you?"

"Convent," Cort said straight back and drained his bottle of beer, leaning back with his foot on the table and stretching, a big grin on his face.

"You sure were a bad man, Cort," Bud grinned.

Cort grinned even wider, "Hey...that was after I reformed!" Fucking padre is the only name for him, mate. "But Wendell, my old friend, do share with us your best..."

"Morgue." 

"What?" All the men shouted at once. Arthur looked horrified.

"Hey....there was no one about- like the stiffs cared?" He looked at the faces of the others and smirked. "So I was stiff...where else to go?"

I had to know, "Bud, who did you do? Be careful how you answer this...."

"None of your fuckin' business, shitbird- but she was breathing. Well, she was before- afterwards...who can say?" he grinned, his eyes twinkling.

Biebe groaned at that and shook his head. All eyes turned to him. He looked about him and grimaced. "On the Zamboni."

"You mean in the cab?" Lachlan asked.

"No...I mean on the top- the view was better - The Northern Lights- we didn't want to miss 'em."

"Is that when you needed the brandy?" Maximus queried as he swirled cognac around his own glass.

"No...I found somewhere else warm enough that night - warm and wet enough," John smiled at the memory.

Hando shivered. "Too fucking cold for me, mate."

"Not on the parts that mattered," giggled John. "Best cure for frostbite there is. But if not in the cold...where did you do it, Hando? Or perhaps we should be asking - have you ever actually done it conventionally in a bed?"

Hando looked around the group of us and I sensed a change in his expression; despite the bravado and the strut, his eyes looked deep and pained. "School."

I tried to lighten the moment suspecting I knew what was coming. "What's so strange about having it behind the bike sheds at school?" 

"It was in the principal's office." He shrugged. "The principal was a she," he sneered, "It was either that or get sacked for some shit I did."

"How old were you?" Maximus asked quietly.

He hunched his shoulders. "Dunno. Thirteen...fourteen..."

"How old was she?" He asked a second question. Hando looked away and snatched up a cigarette. Lighting it, he muttered, "Too fucking old for a kid of that age." He seemed to shiver slightly and we all sobered up a little. Perhaps we should have expected something like this in view of his background. But he snapped out of it. "Who's fuckin' dodgin'? Curry...come on..."

"In a plane over the Atlantic..." We all moaned as if it was nothing to skite about... "In freefall..."

That impressed them. 

At that moment there was a loud horning at the door - the ladies had arrived- so the men put on their game faces (that is their sex games faces) and welcomed them in. Then the fax machine started to spew out a series of sheets. I swear those women are getting worse. It was a group of shots of a line of men naked from the waist down, guys ripping off their skivs, men in posing pouches rubbing their groins in our women's faces. Title:

 

 

Bad timing, girls. 

In they came. Some of the sweetest little pussies you have ever seen. Got them from one of Dino's favourite little clubs. Well, actually it's one we used to both frequent in the old days when I was still a naughty boy and had to pay for it. Chose to pay for it more like. C'mon girls- you know we like nothing more than handing over an exorbitant sum of money and getting personal service of the most intimate and satisfying kind. No headaches, no PMS, no multiple orgasms, no foreplay, no 'don't come in my mouth...!'

We had cleared an area at one end of the bar, set out chairs, bottles of Scotch, Rum, Vodka, Cognac...and we settled back to watch the show on the small raised stage.

Lachlan was introduced as the boy of the hour.

"This is the Birthday Boy, ladies. He's a virgin as well, so go easy on him. Just make sure you empty his tank. Get the old system flushed out..." I smiled sweetly at the madam, a rather attractive older women who looked like she might actually be more fun than the young things. The look she gave me seemed to suggest I might be on a promise if I played my cards right.

Lachlan bridled. "Take no notice of him, love. He thinks he's funny. But I've no objection to having my engine drained...I'm a quick refuel...my turn around time has to be seen to be believed...."

The men started to chant at that- you know that bear-like grunting they make when they are getting into the group arousal mood? Pints were pulled, beer was sprayed around and the comments were getting cruder and cruder. The girls took themselves off to get ready.

"This is more like it," Lachlan muttered. "Know what pisses me off most? That rule book women have in their heads. Who made them up? Anyone ask any of us?"

"Damn straight, flyboy," Cort replied. "And the low fat diets they serve..."

"Diets? What man wants to restrict his eating?' Jack retorted. "We need red meat and spotted dick- and plenty of it."

We all howled at that. "You gonna rub your spotted dick all over Bridgid? We've all seen you looking down the front of her blouse, ya dirty bastard!" Jeff shouted across. "Or was it lobscouse?" Stephen interjected. He'd been quiet but seemed to be enjoying the fun and games.

"She far prefers dick," he bellowed in reply. Jack was well away...three sails in the wind in fact.

"Don't you just hate it when they start putting you on those low fat eating regimes? " John started whining. "Women and diets!"

Egan nodded and put on a high pitched voice. "Do you know how much fat there is in one avocado, honey?"

"I want to rub it on your body not feed you on it, Tulip," Egan answered himself laughing.

"Can't we use no-fat ice cream? You're putting weight on!" I aped a precise British tones. "Is there a sugar-free chocolate body paint?... By the way that wasn't supposed to be me and Uma..." I added. "I meant some other English  girl I know..." They all groaned.

"Jesus Christ...can't they take a night off?" Bud grunted. "How many calories of fat can she lick off my dick anyway?" 

"Speak for yourself, Sir," answered Jack in a flash. Bud rolled his eyes.

"I say we rewrite the rulebook," Maximus observed. "Curry...you first...number one...."

"Unrestricted access to the cockpit... or in other words...No knickers when I'm around..."

General agreement.

"Thorne ....number Two...someone write these down..." Maximus continued. Arthur grabbed a pad and a pen.

"Mud...available on demand. Our demand. No excuses of 'It will ruin my hair' or 'It gets up my nails'.

"Damn straight, Terry," Cort shouted. "Number Three...they make damn sure it ain't that time of the month...don't they have pills for that shit these days?"

"They love that excuse, mate. Makes them feel like they're suffering and we're animals. Is it our fault that we were built properly?" Lachlan moaned.

Jack broke in. "Red meat and no healthy lean fare. If they want vigorous men, they need to feed us as such." 

"Word, Jack. The phrase: "I am putting you on a diet' must never cross their lips," Biebe added. "Make that number four."

"I got one." Hando threw over. "They tell us exactly what their fucking problem with us is instead of all that 'I'm a victim' crap. How are we supposed to know what goes on in their heads? Even they don't fuckin' know half the time..." He sounded like he spoke from experience. No one disagreed with him.

"Max? Reckon you must have a bellyache. Number Six?" Zack shouted over.

"Sex?" He laughed  " Ahhh.. Number Six, I mean...let me see... "Threesomes must always include two women..." Fuck me...the general's human after all.

At that moment Biebe stepped into the breach. "It's a sister's job to keep a man warm, his belly full, his beer cold and his bed hot...."

"And his dick hard," added Bud. No one was about to disagree with number seven. Speaks for itself surely?

Egan leant forward and joined in. "Bareback is not allowed to frighten the horses with sex acts in the stable...I will not have my horse put off her feed...and he better not fucking try to ride her without his pants," Egan  added with a growl.

Max counted down. "That's octo....eight...we need two more at least..."

"I got another," I interrupted. "During footie matches- any sport on TV in fact...women keep their mouths shut and no comments of... "Look at his bum...isn't he cute?...what's an offside?...In fact they don't speak at all unless to offer to make sandwiches and ply us with tinnies..." Grunts of agreement rose on all sides.

Bud muttered. "Unless to offer a blow at half time....good tension reliever..."

"Hey...I got another...The Brother in command of the joy stick has complete control of the flight path...or in other words...we choose the position..." Lachlan was back in the air.

"Too right," I added. "I only have one back...have they any idea how we sweat while they are lying there and enjoying it?"

"We might refer to that as the Master and Commander rule," Jack mused..."In fact the whole set ought to have a title. Perhaps we could borrow the obvious. The Articles of War? For surely, the game of diplomacy we play with these ladies has all the hallmarks of a complex military campaign. They may have the odd victory but we must secure the war..."

We raised our glasses to that. "The Articles..."

"Perhaps we could just add a final one?" Lachlan grinned. "Falling asleep afterwards is obligatory...." A cheer rose from the ranks... "For men over 30, that is..." He was tipped out of his chair for that.

"Doesn't that make eleven?" Max asked, counting on his fingers.

"So we can't fucking count? What the fuck!" Bud retorted and we all laughed some more.

"Then the 11 articles, it is. I'll get it up on the board tomorrow." Arthur volunteered.

"That should throw a spark in the henhouse," Jack misquoted, "and set the whole arsenal ablaze!" But we got his message loud and clear.

I noticed that Hando - who had been drinking heavily all night - had a look on his face of savage intensity and his eyes were glinting. This boy was going to bust loose tonight. It wouldn't take much provocation.  At that point the women mercifully entered and the show began. Dancing, stripping, pole dancing, and then the real fun began. One for each of us, they strutted over wearing g-strings and six inch heels. Lap dancing. I fucking love it. Wasn't the only one. One girl ground her perfect buttocks into my face; she smelt of  berries - I tell no lie- I licked; she was coated in some kind of edible film-she just let me lick it up there and then. I didn't dare even look up. You could smell the testosterone rising all around- they were all getting a similar treatment.

That was when the lights were dimmed and the floorshow began to a burst of pounding music and the sudden spotlight hitting the line of strutting lovelies. We certainly quieted down at that point. No one said a thing. Tongues were hanging out. It was like a beauty contest where the judges got to sample their favourites. Interesting to check out who they were going for.

"Over here, love!" I pulled a tall curvaceous blonde over; her tits must have 40 DD. 

Then Saffron (that's what she said her name was) took residence on my knee, big pert tits in my face and her hot little pussy grinding on the bolt that was threatening to burst out of my pants. I had to breathe deeply, and remember a prana that has helped me once or twice before. But my groin was beginning to hurt. Her tits were amazing and I went for it- by the sound of it, I wasn't the only one. A quick glance up and it was like a scene from a porno movie. It was naked female flesh and squirming bodies all over the place.

Hando had a slender brunette with thick dark hair. I had purposely passed on her although frankly she was exactly the sort of woman I went for. I think that that was the point. But he had caught my look and faced me up in his way. Turning her head a little roughly so that I could see her face, framed with dark hair all messed up, he said: "Who does she remind you of Terry? Dead ringer, mate," and he thrust her towards his groin. I looked away but not before I saw Bud and Cort exchange glances. So I'm fucking obvious, am I? Tough shit.

Just then Hando stood up with a roar and tossed the little brunette he was with over his shoulder. I expected him to disappear off- there wasn't much chance that he wouldn't get his rocks off, if it was offered free. I was wrong. Not about his rocks. This time it was about where he was off to. First he placed her down on the deck and then he called us all to attention. One by one the couples parted and the girls nestled around their man. All eyes were on the stage. Hando asked for music. He just said "Fucking Music." We all looked at each other. Adolf was gonna do it.

"Bet you can't get it up, Skin," Bud snorted. "Let's see if you're all they say?"

Hando sneered and grabbed the girl's hand, cupping his groin with it and saying..."Show them, baby." She did. As slick as you like, she had his zip down and he was in her hands. Fuck she was good. On her knees, she gave him head that would have sucked the brains out of most men. Hando was struggling but he can be as stoical as Max when he wants to be. This was going to be good.

I caught Lachlan's grimace- either he didn't approve or he was wondering if he was next up. I frowned and looked at Zack and Cort who were both laughing into their drinks. I gave my disapproving look but they weren't fooled.

"Get a load of Action Man. What's the face for? Hando beat ya to it?" Zack grinned.

He then indicated Cort who was engrossed in the willowy red head in his arms. "Check out the padre. Reckon we won't see him until spring. How long you reckon it's going to take Quick Draw to get his pistola out?" Colin laughed. Cort merely shook his bottle in his direction, showering him and his girl in beer. Colin licked it off her .

Max was saying nothing. Actually he wasn't very interested in the floor show. Guess he's seen plenty of that in his former life. The blonde honey on his lap was holding his attention and they didn't look too far away from busting loose either. "Hey, Max, another blonde?" I shouted over as he raised his left arm and his middle finger.

Biebe was a surprise. He was taking it all in and giving plenty of attention to the lady on his lap. He suddenly spoke. "What happens in the pub, stays in the pub. You got that, men? What they don't know will fire their imaginations...and if we don't admit to it, we didn't do it. Anyone who breaks the code...we are talking naked in the ice hill, at the very least. Agreed?'

General agreement. Jack and his girl fell off their chair- they were laughing but something was mightily impressing her. She kept screeching..."What the fuck? OH MY GOD! Is that real?" One can only imagine what she had found. One of his war wounds? Or was it his big gun?

Meanwhile Hando was now fully committed. He was naked in all his painted glory...pretty fascinating actually to view the picture show, not to mention the sight of the young lady of his choice, riding him - she was all over him like an anaconda. He suddenly flipped her over and pulled her to her knees. Christ- there is something about watching doggy style that raises the tempo. He was pulling out and giving us a vantage view of her naked snatch before ramming her like a fucking piston. The place was up. Guys were shouting crude encouragement, the girls were squealing, chairs were being knocked back, some of the younger couples were writhing on the floor, music was pumping...I suddenly wondered what they would think if they saw us like this. I would hate her to see this. Men are such animals.

I thought Hando would kill her before he came- the girl was like a rag doll now in his arms. Then his back arched and the men let out a howl that must have been heard a mile away as he slumped on her, shuddering helplessly- I almost felt sorry for him. He was completely fucked. As he rolled back and hit the floor next to the girl, I saw he was rubbered up. I was a little surprised. And very pleased. He has always worried me. Maybe he isn't such a loose cannon after all.

The atmosphere calmed a little. Hando and his lady rolled around languidly for a while until Cort told him to get his pants on and put it away. He loped off holding his dick tenderly. Reckon the boy might be nursing an injury tomorrow. Drinks were passed around and then Chantal (the madam) announced that it was time the birthday boy got his treat. Lachlan visibly paled. But, fair play, he didn't back off. Pulling him to his feet, the girl he was with led him back to the stage and a few others joined her. He hadn't a chance. They circled him like harpies and one by one his clothes hit the deck. Tie, shirt, shoes, socks, pants until he was there in his tented boxers, blushing a bright shade of red and holding his hands over his bolt.

"C'mon fellas...I've been debagged once already tonight...give me a break... don't let me have to sport this in front of you!"

"What do you reckon? " Cort grinned, looking around.

Jack stood up. "I think we should give the man a choice. He may either choose to withdraw like a gentleman and conduct his business in private or we shall insist on satisfaction here. However your word on it, sir -we are expecting no less than a full emptying of the barrels."

Lachlan nodded. "Just let me do in private, OK? It is my birthday."

Max agreed. "You give a man the honourable choice. It is the least we can do."

So Lachlan was dragged off by his 'birthday present' to cheers of "Bet he doesn't last 10 seconds," and "Drops his bombs in one load." He wasn't the only one to slip off at that moment. But I am sworn to secrecy and, as you know, men never break the code of honour. So tough shit, ladies.

Those of us left passed a companionable night in the genial company of the remaining girls and finished off the booze. The night ended quietly apart from a bit of raucous singing and a chant of:

 

But there was a certain over-confidence there that I don't think everyone actually felt. Whatever we were doing, our women were up to much the same thing. Or so it appeared.

Well after midnight when our guests were long gone, I wandered out of one of the rooms upstairs and found myself down on that patio in darkness again. Lachlan was sitting there, barefoot and just wearing a pair of jeans.

"Terry. You still up?" he asked.

"Well, I'm awake," I grinned. Lachlan threw a packet of fags at me. I lit one. 

"Have fun?" he asked with a smile.

I looked across and shrugged. He grinned. "Cleared out the pipes though?"

I gave him a look. "Seemed like a good idea at the time...but, a bit lacking in something after the event, ya know...?"

I nodded but didn't enlarge. He kept trying to make me open up- mate, it would take a smarter bloke than him to make me give anything away.

"Reckon we all prefer a bit of emotional attachment these days. Or maybe that comes with maturity...now I am so old and all..." Lachlan grinned.

"You know me. Like to keep free of all that commitment-lark. Never works."

"Wrong tense, mate. Never worked. Doesn't mean the right one is going to come along..."

Just then Bud came outside, preventing me from having to answer. "Thought you'd gone."

"Just waiting for a cab."

"You OK?" I asked.

He gave me that steady glare. The one that tells you he is far from all right. "Yeah, why shouldn't I be?"

"No reason. We just all drank a helluva lot...You're not really a big drinker, Bud..."

A car horned outside. "That's me. I better get home. See ya around?" Bud ambled off, hitting the door with his shoulder as he walked out.

"Something up with White?" Curry asked, drawing on his cigarette.

"Yeah...something's up. Not sure what. His business..." I didn't encourage discussion but I wondered how many others had noticed his rather atypical behaviour tonight? Sure he'd been as drunk and crude as the rest of us. But when the girls had got to work, he'd played along so far - and then suddenly walked out. Hadn't seen him from then on. Think he went for a walk. Interesting. Can't imagine he hasn't a taste for this sort of fun and games. Either he didn't like what was going on - or he had some performance problems. Now what would bring a guy like Bud White develop either of those reactions?

Reckon I'll keep an eye on him over the next few days. Wonder if Uma knows anything? 

"Whatever, mate, let's make sure we don't talk too much about what went on. Some of these boys might prefer it to be kept private...let's keep the faith, hey? I mean...the girls might be surprised at who was not up for it, hey? And who was? Wouldn't want the ladies to feel too complacent now, would we?"

Hando drifted in; he looked as though he had been sleeping it off. He sat down, snagged a cigarette and smoked pensively.

"You look as cheerful as a bastard on Father's day, mate." Lachlan commented. I winced, expecting Hando to resent the comment (seeing as he is actually a bastard) and another ruck breaking out, but he didn't rise to it.

Instead he shrugged. "Dunno. Just thinking. Maybe I should tell her I'm sorry?" he mumbled obliquely.

Lachlan and I exchanged glances, raising our eyebrows. But we didn't give our opinion nor did he venture any more on the subject. The cigarette finished, he stood up. "I'll be getting off then. Great night. Must do it again sometime, eh?

"Bud's birthday next week...?" I mentioned.

At that we all groaned and laughed. Reckon we might make that one a bit quieter. Lachlan slapped Hando on the back as he was leaving and then sat back down next to me.

 I poured him a final drink.

"Where's your pal, Red?" Lachlan queried.

"Ah well...now there's a man with stamina. Don't be fooled by his lean frame. How come you think he keeps his weight down?" We both snorted. "But that's O'Leary for you. Never misses a bit of ....ya get the idea, mate?"

Not like the pair of us though, smirking like two virtuous choirboys. Isn't it great how men have such selective memories? We had already forgotten our little episodes earlier on. Must have been the blood surge - starves the brain of oxygen, you know? 

Curry's a good bloke. Had a bloody good birthday, too. He won't forget that one in a hurry.

 

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