After a few giggling moments, they were all done, and the girls laughingly put their phones back in their pockets.
“See ya, donkey dick,” laughed the young woman in the front passenger seat. “Thanks for the show, bro’. You’ve got a cute cock.”
With the loud, rude laughter of the young women still pealing out in the night air, the car sped away down the street.
I realised too late that I probably should have asked the laughing women for a lift home.
The girls would likely have molested me in the car, but it was still a missed opportunity. It could have been fun too.
Disappointed with myself and still nervous, I continued my trek home. I walked to the end of the street, and crossed a busy road, which prompted a few whistles and shouts from the many cars driving by.
I then slid away into the darkness of the largely residential streets that would eventually lead to the safety of my apartment complex.
I walked the quiet back streets quickly and quietly, waiting in darkness to cross the road when there were no cars driving by.
I listened intently for any sounds, and constantly scanned around for any people.
Then, in the darkness, I heard the sound of people talking and laughing a little further ahead, and hoped that it was just noise from inside one of the many houses on the quiet suburban street.
But as I quickened my pace, I took a fast sidelong glance to my right, and spotted a group of four Anglo-Aussie women.
They looked to be aged in their thirties, and they were sitting around the front of a house talking and drinking.
I sucked in a few deep breaths as my nerves again began to jangle and fray. I could sense that I was once again in trouble.
“Check out this fuckin’ bloke,” I heard a slurred, obviously drunken female voice ring out from behind me. “He’s running around in a fuckin’ towel.”
“That’s weird,” I heard another even more slurred voice carry through the darkness. “He looks like a cutie too.”
I looked back to see that the four women had moved from the front of the house and onto the footpath.
In the half-light, I could see that the women were lean and average height, and dressed casually in shorts and t-shirts.
One of the women, however, was shorter and curvier, with dark, curly hair. Her big breasts were barely supported by a small bikini top, and her wide hips strained against a pair of tight denim shorts.
“Let’s get that towel off him and see what he’s got on underneath,” another drunken voice bellowed from behind me. “And if he’s got cossies on, we’ll rip them off too!”
“Let’s get him, girls,” I heard another woman yell in rousing fashion. “Let’s get that towel!”
I gulped in fear. I heard the chilling sound of footsteps slapping on concrete, and I looked nervously over my shoulder.
The four drunken women were indeed making chase, and they were heading right in my direction.
I turned and ran. I worked my arms and legs furiously, but my right knee had been damaged a couple of years ago, which slowed me down considerably.
I still moved quickly, but I could hear the four drunken women quickly gaining on me.
I looked back over my shoulder again to see that one of the women had already given up the chase.
Hacking and coughing, she was doubled over and vomiting loudly into the gutter. Alcohol and sprinting were never good bedfellows, and this woman had obviously paid the price.
In the half-light, I then saw the curvier woman in the bikini top stumble awkwardly on the uneven footpath.
She listed harshly to the left, which shockingly prompted her big, sloppy breasts to literally flop sideways out of her loose and unsupportive bikini.
Large and far from firm, the woman’s tits bounced around hilariously and slapped all over the flesh of her wobbling torso.
“Oh, fuck…my tits,” I heard the hapless woman scream. “My fuckin’ knockers fell out. The prick saw my fuckin’ knockers!”
The suddenly topless woman then stopped completely and attempted to corral her big, fleshy breasts back into her bikini top, but they kept flopping back out.
With one of the women hopelessly vomiting and another valiantly attempting to get control of her enormously errant boobs, I was now only being pursued by two women, but they were fast and grimly determined.
“We’re gonna get you, mate,” the woman taking up the rear yelled. “That towel’s coming off! Get it, Mel!”
“I’m trying, Loz! We’re gonna see your bum!” Mel screamed breathlessly. “And your willy too!”
Though aroused by the fact that two women were chasing me down the street to denude me, excitement was far outweighed by fear.
If these crazed women did indeed get the towel, I would once again be fully nude. This could, of course, bring the cops into the picture, and god knows what else.
Running naked around a coastal Sydney suburb was a great sexual fantasy, but a far less enticing reality.
In short, I was terrified, and the two women were gaining on me. I looked over my shoulder.
Loz was lingering way behind, but the far quicker Mel was getting closer to me with alarming speed.
Mel’s long hair swept back from her attractive face as she ran, and I couldn’t help noticing how furiously her tits moved around under her skimpy singlet.