Hart of Darkness Part 4
Up past reception and Beemo and Fun think the party's gonna continue in my room. I kick'em outa the lift and tell'em to pick me up in the morning.
In the room…
Down-lights on… let's get a look at you, girls…
Holy Mother of God and all my Sainted Aunts!
It's Angelina Jolie at 21 and her younger sister!
“Angelina, what's your name?
“I am Ashfeen.”
“And Sis?”
“Her name is Safina.”
After they get their raincoats off – (no sign of rain)?!? Ashfeen is sporting a lurid purple, poured-on lycra mini and Safina is (almost) in a gold lamay top slit to the waist and matching pants.
Both lusty wenches are winking and grinning. Apparently it passes for conversation here in Batam.
Crack a bintang. The ladies want wine. Hah! Ok. Room Service!!
After we settle in for a few frosties its time for business.
“Ok ladies, let's get a good look at you. You first Ashfeen.”
“No, you open, open.”
“Huh?” I thought I was giving the orders.
I'm got up in my standard night-time garb of black flannels and cream linen shirt. Daytime it's cream all-over. I strip. But the girls aren't looking at me. I only wear button up flys ever since the near fatal sacristy disaster
with Fr. O'Leary trying to zip my fly in haste after being disturbed by Sr. Albina. The ladies are fascinated by the buttons…apparently a rarity in these parts. Ashfeen fingers the alien fastenings with wonder.
“Can keep?”
“No you can't fucking keep! Now get your gear off Angie!”
She complies. OMG!!! The dreaded stretch marks!
“Ashfeen, you have been with child?”
“TWINS!!!!!” she proudly proclaims.
“Sit, I show you!”
Hmmmmm…ok why not, I still got a back-up in Safina.
She pulls out her Nokia and flashes the screen. WTF?!?!?
Beemo by two in diapers!!! Shoulda known, shoulda known….
Looks like it's Kama Sutra time for Safina.
Seeing as Stick has a proscription policy on the “gory details” the following three hours will have to remain censored…
Wake up.
Check my luminous dial.
Two A.M.
Both ladies are sleeping peacefully.
Time for a little mischief! Hehehe…
Pull out my swiss army knife. Prise off the arrow stuck to the bedside table pointing to Mecca. Snag the superglue. Re-stick the pointer a few degrees north to St Peter's. Ha! Ha! Always hedge your bets!
Pop another bintang and start to brood again.
On my fifteenth birthday my hair suddenly turned from jet black to snow white. Fr. O'Leary called it a sign from God! I had been delivered from darkness into the light. “Let this boy be a lesson to you all!” he screamed
from the pulpit!
No shit padre? Hadn't the stupid cunt ever heard of peroxide? Hah! Hah!
Brooding…did I mention I like it?
Take a look at the girls in the moonlight…Safina's on her tummy…what an ass!
Pop another bintang.
A plan is forming…
To be continued…
