It didn’t surprise me that the number of people who greeted Tank was either a bro handshake or a nod. There was no backslapping because I was still on his back, but many congratulated him on making VP. Others just said hello; if they noticed the VP status, they never showed it. I relieved myself and washed my hands and face, glad to wash away today’s grime. I wasn’t sure what the campsite would have, but it seems they were well catered for here. When the clubs run things, they do a good job of making sure needs are met. That’s what it appears to be so far.
My blood boiled when I noticed some bottle blonde bimbo after my man, I wanted to tear her eyes out, for leaning over and looking at his junk, that belonged to me, not that I had even used it yet. However, it was still mine, and I have no clue where all this possessiveness comes from; maybe I am fed up with others taking what was mine. No one was taking my man this time.
I tried to be friendly and polite while keeping my temper in check. I noticed others stopping to watch as I growled at the girl in a low tone, but she ignored me and suggested a threesome. That was it for me. I don’t share, ever.
The sudden shriek of shock and the sudden claps of bystanders had all happened quickly. One moment, I was trying to keep calm and not embarrass Tank, and the next, the bimbo attempted to put her hands on me, and I saw red. No one puts their hands on me, not anymore, unless I permit it. I was not that submissive girl any longer.
The woman sat up, shaking her head, crying like a baby; she was covered in mud from the wet ground and splashes from the urinal water, and maybe a bit more. Some guy came forward and lifted her off the ground, and she turned and cried in his arms. He gave me the thumbs up and led her away, with a smirk. I guess he will give her what she was asking for.
“Tank, why are there so many singles? I thought it was couples weekend?” I asked, confused.
The cleaners, cooks, guards, and general helpers are all single, but they should know we don’t want others encroaching on ours. Also, I think there are a few clubs that have brought singles too, so although it was meant to be couples, Prez said singles have managed to come this weekend. Don’t let it spoil your experience.” He had me wrapped in his arms, holding me close, as I shook. I had worked myself up over the whole ordeal.
He guided me back to a campfire, where our team was sitting, along with others, whom I didn’t know.
“Congrats, Tank.” A man with a President patch on, stood and shook his hand, slapping him on his back.
“Thanks, coming from you means a lot,” Tank replied emotionally.
“Max, this man is a good friend of mine, Reaper. This is my woman, Maxine.” Tank introduced me to a large man, not as tall as Tank but still tall, and full of muscle. I held out my hand for him to shake.
“Nice to meet you.” I squeaked as he pulled me for a tight hug.
“Man, I never thought I would see the day that Tank found a woman. You must be one special lady.” He said as he pushed me back to arm’s length to get a good look at me.
“She’s special Reaper, one of a kind.” Sticks chimed in, and the others nodded in agreement.
“I hear you two are the holders of the champion, tug-of-war, nice going.” Cricket was added in before we sat down.
“Oh, I heard about that, some commotion about some chick wanting to congratulate you, but Max here wouldn’t allow it.” Bruiser chuckled, giving me a knowing smile.
“She did give that woman the taste of dirt, and did the same at the urinal. The woman ended up kissing the water track.” Tank beamed proudly.
“First time here, and you set a new record and down two chicks, in how many hours have you been here?” Reaper asked, chuckling as he spoke.
“Four,” Prez answered after checking his watch, as if what had happened so far was nothing new.
“Wow, that must be a record, too.” They were all laughing about it, but I didn’t get the joke. What was funny about me decking two wanton bibos?
Some guys arrived with guitars, another with a mouth organ, someone produced a violin, and bongo drums, and soon the group was playing familiar songs. At first, I tapped along with the music, not wanting to sing. My sister always said I had a terrible singing voice and not to sing. My mother agreed, so I never sang at home. I did sing at work, but I thought the music was loud enough to drown out my voice.
“Why don’t we sing a duo, like the one on the way here?” Tank suggested softly as the song being sung was coming to a close.
“Do you think they won’t mind, like I have a terrible voice, might spoil the night?” I said hesitantly, I don’t want to bring the evening down.
“Your voice to me is beautiful, come, let’s sing,” Tank called out what he wanted us to sing to the main guitarist, and he started to strum the chords.
Tanks baritone voice rang out, into the night air, and with his encouragement joined him, trying to harmonise, no one else joined in singing, all eyes were on us, we are sang, I was seated between Tanks legs, his arms over my shoulders, resting on my tummy, and felt relaxed and happy, in his arms, and turned to look up at him, as we sang.
The cheers from the listening crowd had tears running down my cheeks. Tank wiped them away with the back of his hand.
“Now, will you believe me when I say you have a beautiful voice?” He kissed my nose, and his eyes sparkled in the firelight.
“Sing us another one.” Called out someone from the crowd, and more encouragement boomed out; I had never had anyone want to listen to my voice before.
“Tank, they want your voice, not mine,” I said, knowing he too rarely sang. He had said so.
“Both of us, or neither.” He pushed, as they started calling out songs they wanted us to sing.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.