FREEDOM TO SCOTLAND

It soon became clear from my first day at the hostel in St Kilda, Melbourne that potentials were running low. It appeared that 'Scottish James',a fairly well built, if a little stocky, rugby player was my best bet. Being short had always been a deal breaker for me, but i wasnt planning on sleeping with him. I merely wanted to indulge in a little innocent flirtation.

He wasnt exactly charming but he was sweet enough and the accent obviously helped his cause immeasurably (this wouldnt be the last time i let an accent blind me from the blatently obvious physical and social flaws of a man). Sadly our blossoming romance was hindered significantly by the interferance of 'dutchy' whose accent almost became as annoying as his personality itself. With Dutchys help i was suddenly transported back to prep school where flirting and the act of seduction in general was carried out through a series of Chinese whispers across the playground. 'James really likes you' he would constantly tell me. I resisted the urge to bitch-slap him in his greasy face before explaining 'Dutchy, i would have to be either blind or socially retarded not to know James likes me due to the fact he gets a massive errection everytime he talks to me'. This was no joke. And a massive turn off. After a while i became concerned for James' health. i didnt know if one could suffer from dick strain, but if you could, James was definatly going to. I also deeply judged myself when, on the odd occasion he didnt go stiff on sight, i got offended. Seriously, how insecure can i get???

Furthermore James' flirting skills were not exactly up to par. He acted sober how i would act after a bottle of vodka. Inappropriate touching of the knee, whispering cring-a-licious sweet nothings in my ear and just general invasion of personal space. I've always mantained i would hate the drunk me. And this just goes to show.

What caused me to get with him then remains a mystery of Poirot proportions. I suspect the unjustified amount of alcohol i consumed that evening had something to do with it but then, one can always play the alcohol card. Its too easy and totally unfair. After all you werent complaining when those two glasses of red got you to second base on your HOT date last week. And you werent full of hate when you found that bottle of gin in the cupboard after whats his name broke up with you, were you? Nah didnt think so.

To be honest, we were skinny dipping prior to the incident so i suppose in my ever efficient head i thought the hardest part was already done. Plus i was fooking freezing and what better way to warm up? Besides, i wouldnt be able to tell how short James was when on my back. We could do this,i decided, but standing up was out of the question.

So we clothed up for the sake of a few straglers on the beach and legged it down to the end of the pier. I was immediatly impressed. It was cold. Freezing in fact but Scotish James was packing. His muscular body certianly did the trick and he continued to dock his boat in my harbour for over an hour. FREEDOM TO SCOTTLAND.

Afterwards we went to bed where i got involved in some Lady of the Night action by sneaking off as soon as he fell asleep/passed out. I was dying to pass out myself and forget the whole affair, which was quickly becoming something i knew i should regret. Even in my drunken state i was aware of the effect waking up naked next to James would have on me. I needed at least two cigs before hearing that accent.

Funny how quickly a shag can change ones opinion on a whole nation.