I guess Erin and I both thought that Joker would want to sit around and relax for a while after leaving Misty sprawled out on top of her bed, a thoroughly shagged slut with her legs still wide open and apparently not capable of moving anything except her fluttering eyelids. She looked as if she'd been sitting on one of his navy bombs when it went off. If anybody wanted to know whether it was true about black guys being big Misty could tell them now, provided she hadn't permanently damaged her voice in shrieking out in ecstasy whilst trapped underneath Joker.

What I would have liked to have asked her was whether the gain in experience had been worth the pain, only I didn't have time before the sailor was eyeing me like I was his home port and he couldn't wait to dock.

"Where's the head, girls -- the toilet?"

I showed him the bathroom door.

"OK, why don't you just shuck off those clothes, Narelle, and I'll be back before you know it."

As I was getting undressed we heard the toilet flush and then the shower run briefly. Erin and I looked into Misty's bedroom. She was still where we'd left her, recumbent on top of her bed. Also ruined, ravaged, rodgered, rammed, rooted and ravished.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

She just managed to lift her head off the pillow: "I'm fine. Fucked for life, but fine."

"What was it like?" I wanted to know. "I think I'm the next gig."

Misty's eyes seemed to have trouble aiming in my direction. "What was it like? What did it look like? It was like stuffing a foot long dildo filled with lead up your crack and then bungy-jumping off Sydney Harbor Bridge -- that was what it was like."

A big dark skinned hand with golden rings on it squeezed my shoulder and I nearly leapt off the floor because of my nervousness. I hadn't even heard the bathroom door open, let alone Joker padding towards me. A damp towel was slung over one of his shoulders.

"Hey, Narelle, you look great! Let's go and sit on the couch."

"Er -- OK, You sure you don't want a beer or anything first?"

"All I'm wanting is you, gal. I've got six months to catch up on. Let's go."

I was as nervous as hell and Misty was staring at him as if a stone statute had come to life. If any normal guy had managed to commit that kind of carnal carnage on her we'd have had to drag him out in the morning by his heels. With Joker, it looked like the only thing that might stop him would be kryptonite lined panties. So instead of sitting this one out it looked like I was scheduled for a heavy date with a guy who was hung like a stallion and as randy as a buck rabbit in the mating season. Jeez, maybe it was time I got a regular job after all.

It all happened so fast though. I mean you usually get a chance to have some conversation with a lover before you get down to serious foreplay, even if it's only: "Hi, who's winning in the cricket?", which is about as much as you can expect in the way of romance from the average Aussie guy.

Not with Joker though. He moved faster than a sprinter homing in on a gold medal. One minute he was inviting me onto the couch, the next minute I was on it, with his head down between my legs and Erin aiming that damned camera at us.

Credit where credit's due though. If he was fast he was also bloody good. I'd never had a guy before who knew so well what to do and how to do it. As frightened as I was he had me purring and perking up in no time. Which was good, and better yet as I felt myself getting wet, even in the places where his tongue couldn't reach. Because he had something which would certainly get in much, much deeper.

What I couldn't understand was why the Yank had decided to jump Misty and me first. Erin was by far and away the best looking of the three of us. Perhaps Joker was taking care of the rough stuff first and leaving the best until last. Personally, I would have much preferred to have been the last one to go for a ride on board the big black titanic, even if its big black owner had managed to melt all my ice already.

END OF PART ONE

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