from the Comical Tales of Yorkie
Original Manuscript Copy: This is not the final version. You are welcome to read, like and comment. Do not copy, cite, or distribute without the express written permission of the author.
© Perry A. Simpson 2022
Published by The Lemon Zest Project
Written by Perry Simpson
Knockmonlea, Youghal, Co. Cork, Ireland
(Tel: +353 (0)86 109 2836)
by Perry Simpson (Yorkie Storyline)
This new job had given Ian York the best escape from his little Nymphomaniac girlfriend, Olga. Her father didn’t approve of their relationship. This only made things worse, especially after the incident in the pub. As a service engineer, he needed to travel from time to time and have a night off from sex with Olga. It had been a particularly long day, an early start, a three hundred mile drive and a boring four-hour meeting. Ian wanted to call it a day. He folded back the white sheet and slid himself under the covers of the large double bed. His alarm was set and he was going to celebrate his one night of freedom with a good night’s sleep.
Ian was rudely awoken by his neighbours arriving after the evening out. The desk lamp was still on. I must have gone out like a light, he thought.
The door to the room next to him slammed, followed by raised voices.
‘Great.’ He stared around the modest-sized formula room. The layout was typical. One large space was filled with a large double bed and a wardrobe. Next to the door, a worktop bridged the gap. There was a choice between a plastic desk chair and a comfy armchair. A small glass table with a selection of magazines filled in the space in the centre.
The door slammed again.
Ian smiled, turned off the bedside light and wrapped himself in the nice fresh-smelling white duvet. I still have four hours of sleep. He closed his eyes happy with that thought.
The door to the next opened and slammed shut again, followed by more crashing noises and giggling.
‘Great.’ Yorkie lay there in silence, in the hope that he would fall asleep. That only amplified the noises from next door.
I could hear more giggling. It was the sloppy wet kissing that tipped Yorkie over the edge. It sounded like someone sucking on a large peach.
‘That’s all I need.’ He was wide awake now.
The kissing went on, only pausing while the couple gasped for air. ‘This night is turning into a nightmare.’
Yorkie looked at the bright blue numerals of the digital clock. ‘Two bloody thirty in the morning,’ he sighed.
The kissing continued.
Ian threw himself out of bed and started pacing up and down. ‘Should I go and knock on their door? Of course, I can’t. Idiot.’ He stomped into the bathroom. The fan started. He leant on the sink staring into the mirror. ‘What a bloody disaster.’
He turned the tap on and splashed some water on his face. ‘It’s not that bad. What would you be doing right now if you were at home?’
‘Same as those two next door.’ He threw the white towel into a large oval basin and went back into the bedroom.
Yorkie arranged all his soft white pillows in a sort of U-shape to try and muffle the noises from next-door. He lay there quite still in an attempt to relax and grab whatever sleep he could. He remained motionless to see if he could hear anything. Nothing. He started to drift off again.
A series of groans brought him back. He listened as they intensified, growing faster and shorter. The room filled with a loud squeal, followed by some gasps and mumblings.
‘Bloody hell. I might as well be at home in bed with Olga. That’s it!’ Yorkie leapt from the bed, grabbed his denim jeans and stomped towards the door. He went out and headed toward the door of the neighbouring room. He paused in front of the door, with his clenched fist raised, poised, ready thumb on the door. He turned and paced up and down the corridor, mumbling to himself. He returned to the door. ‘I’ll get you back, you see if I don’t.’ He had come up with an idea for sweet revenge. He made a one-digit gesture to his closed neighbour’s door before he re-entered his room.
‘Hello, my darling.’ Olga threw her arms around Ian’s neck, leaping up to grip him around the waist with her legs. ‘Did you miss me?’ Her long blonde hair tickled his nose. Her bright tortoise-shell eyes teased his. Her smile spanned across her delicate toned face.
‘Of course, my little Poppet,’ he lied.
She kissed him with great passion, smudging her fuchsia-coloured lipstick. 'So, how was your trip - Good?’
‘It was very tiring.’
‘But, you stayed in the beautiful hotel in that big bed all alone without me. I bet you missed me. I bet he missed me, my darling.’ She grabbed him between his thighs.
‘No, he was busy,’ Yorkie sighed.
Olga jumped down and glared at him. ‘What do you mean he was busy? You had someone else in your bed?’
‘No!’ he cringed. ‘I thought you were talking about the guy in the room next door to mine at the hotel. Sorry.’
‘Was he in your bed? Ian!’
‘No, he was in his own bed in the room next door. He had a woman and they were at it most of the night.’
‘Yes, they were shagging all night and I didn’t get a wink of sleep.’
‘How old was he?’
‘I don’t know. Does it matter?’ Yorkie wanted to end the conversation.
‘Don’t get angry with me.’
‘He sounded quite old and she sounded a lot younger. She could have been a prostitute. Look, I don't know. They kept me awake all night.’
‘Why do you think she was a woman of the night?’
‘She left shortly after. You know?’ He was feeling a bit uncomfortable with her continued questioning.
‘Ah, now I see. You were jealous and you wished I had been there with you. You always sleep when Olga finishes.’ Olga reached between his thighs again. ‘ Should I come with you on your next trip? No?’
‘Not sure that would be a good idea.’
‘What do you mean? You go to work, I sleep. When you come back to the hotel, we fuck, then you will sleep.’
‘It’s a business trip and I am supposed to be working.' The thought of Olga waiting to pounce on him in the hotel bedroom terrified him.
‘Then, it would be business sex. You know, room service?’ Olga winked at him and then started to rub between his groin. ‘Then, they could hear Olga scream when she…’
‘Yes, I get the picture.’ Yorkie's imagination filled in the gaps. ‘We would keep the entire floor awake.’
‘What are you saying? Do you prefer to be alone? You do not want Olga in your bed?’ she teased.
‘Of course not silly. It's…’ He paused. ‘I wouldn’t be able to concentrate at work because I would be thinking about you all the time.’
‘What, you don’t normally?’
‘Not in the same way - You know?”
‘There, is that better?’ She continued to rub between his groins. ‘See he missed me.’
'Hello papa.’ Olga threw her arms around her father.
Ian nodded in acknowledgment.
Doug returned the compliment but with even less enthusiasm.
‘Hello darling, how was your trip?’ Olga’s mother, Elena, hugged her husband and kissed him on the cheek. She was an older carbon copy of her daughter in almost every detail.
‘How was your hotel?’
‘What happened, papa?
‘Didn’t get a wink of sleep at all.’
‘Why was that my precious?’ Elena asked.
‘The prat in the room next door paced up and down talking to himself. Then he would go into the bathroom and run the tap. He even-paced up and down the corridor. To cap it all, when he had finally stopped, some idiot kept calling me and pretending to be Chinese - every 30 minutes!’
‘Oh, darling, how terrible for you.’
‘Yorkie, how was your trip?’ Doug then glanced down at the hotel invoice on the kitchen table, then back at Yorkie. His menacing brown eyes cut through him like a sharp knife. ‘Enjoy your one night of freedom?’
Olga looked at her father, then shifted her gaze towards Yorkie.
Ian looked down at the hotel bill lying in front of them on the kitchen table. It was his. He felt a strange feeling come over him. The room number was on it.
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