Chapter 2
Tallulah does Turkey
Chapter 2 - Tallulah does Turkey
“Merhaba, beautiful lady.” The chiselled man stood in front of Tallulah, shining like a gold statue, and she just stared at him, much to his confident amusement.
“Welcome to singles in the sun, it is the perfect day to sail for such a beautiful lady.”
That wasn’t going to be the case, as you are about to find out.
His ‘Singles in the Sun’ t-shirt clung to his torso very differently from how Father Andrew’s t-shirts had, and it was at that moment that she knew the priest was a distant memory. She had ended their relationship because she knew God would always come first. That’s what she told him anyway.
“I am Ahmad, your skipper and yours for the day, beautiful lady. This is Burak, my second skipper.” He said with a twinkle in his eye and a million-dollar smile.
Burak, who was sweating like a pig and looked like a burnt lobster, took Tallulah’s luggage reluctantly.
“A suitcase for a day sail?” He asked Tallulah in pigeon English, with a sarcastic tone, and his sweaty hand touched hers, so she took an anti-bacterial wipe from her favourite summer handbag and removed his body fluid from her skin.
“Tallulah Brooks.” She introduced herself to Ahmed and offered her beautiful Tallulah smile. She let her sarong fall, revealing her designer gold micro bikini and her new, pert 34Ds. They were a Christmas gift from Penelope and Gerald; she rarely called them 'mum' and 'dad,' which annoyed her mother.
Ahmed whistled and undressed her with his eyes, which didn’t take long because all he had to remove was her gold micro bikini. She bit her lip in a slow and sexy way.
Burak let out a painful shriek when Tallulah scratched the deck with her stiletto. She thought it was rather silly for him to get like that over a boat; it was just a few little scratches, a bit of sandpaper would remove any rough bits, she told him.
“I will have a gin and tonic with ice and a slice, please.” She told Burak, and moments later, he returned and handed her a glass, a bottle of gin, and a bottle of warm tonic. Tallulah was not used to men treating her like that, and she gave Burak her Medusa stare.
The next thing she remembered was waking up with Ahmed leaning over her, getting ready to perform mouth-to-mouth. He slowly moved his strong hands down her breasts, and she tingled as his lips pressed on hers. She was well and truly conscious, but wasn’t going to stop him. A voice interrupted her moment of Turkish heaven.
“Is she Ok?” A squeaky, high-pitched voice asked, which appeared to belong to a human-sized sex doll look-a-likey with long, flowing blond hair and pert breasts bigger than Tallulah’s, and Tallulah instantly hated her.
Realising Tallulah didn’t need any further breathing assistance, Ahmed helped her up. He wrapped his strong, muscular arms around her, and her heart skipped a beat.
“What happened?” Tallulah asked Ahmed whilst trying to appear traumatised for prolonged attention.
“You fell over and hit your pretty head.” Ahmed swept the hair away from her face and got so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. He smelt of garlic, but that didn’t put her off.
“I’m Paris Diamonte.” The new squeaky voice introduced herself and held out a perfectly manicured hand between Tallulah and Ahmed.
“I’m a beauty therapist looking for Mr Right.” She looked at Ahmed and winked.
Ahmed savoured the view of the perfect, pink goddess, much to Tallulah’s disappointment.
“Merhaba, darlings.” A woman said as she climbed onto the boat holding a cocktail glass. Burak was not happy; he raised his eyes and assisted the cocktail-holding lady onto the boat as if he were picking up a school bag.
“Would everyone like to gather around so we can introduce ourselves to each other, and can I ask the three beautiful ladies to remove their shoes? It’s dangerous on a boat, and I don’t want to lose any of you, for today is the day of love.” Ahmed said, and he looked directly at Tallulah with his, what Tallulah thought was his ‘I’m going to take you to bed eyes’ in her imagination.
Another person climbed onto the boat of love.
“Raymond Karlsen.” He said, and he held his hand out to shake with everyone, but Tallulah avoided his sweaty grasp. He winked at Tallulah, and she felt like she was going to throw up in her mouth.
“Quick intro.” The arrogant man said before he put his sailing bag down.
“Chairman of the Royal Yacht Club back in the UK. I’m a solicitor, divorced, two children, my favourite pastime, apart from sailing obviously, is cricket. Played at Lords, you know, and I insist that you three beautiful ladies wear life jackets and sailing gloves.”
Burak mumbled “bloody English” and took the man’s bag and chucked it onto a fishing net on the floor. Raymond gasped at the cheek of it, and Tallulah laughed.
“Screw that, I’m not wearing a life jacket, it will squash my breasts.” Said Paris, and she poured herself a glass of warm Pinot that Burak had handed her.
Burak looked at everyone as if they were raving mad and mumbled some more. The cocktail-holding middle-aged woman stepped in front of Paris, and the ditsy blonde was not impressed.
“I’m Marjorie Daws, my darlings. Single and on the search for love. I’m an Air hostess, first class of course and just done a trip from Thailand, and my feet are killing me. Any chance of sex on the beach, skipper?” She held up her glass to Ahmed.
Within moments, another smarmy-looking man joined them.
“Gary Walker, an executive car salesman, still married but seeking a divorce from a money-grabbing bitch, she’s wife number four.’ He laughed like a pompous twat.
“Any chance of a cold beer matey?” He asked the mumbling Burak.
Gary was handed a warm can of beer, and asking for a pint glass fell on deaf ears.
Tallulah asked Ahmed where the best place was to get maximum sun exposure, and he laughed at her. She couldn’t understand why. She placed her towel on the deck by the hatch so that she would be in direct view of Ahmed when he stood at the helm.
Suddenly, there was a cry of pain, and she could have sworn blind that it wasn’t her fault when Paris had tried to squeeze next to her above the hatch so she could be closer to Ahmed, but unfortunately fell into the cabin below. Everyone fussed over her, and phone calls were made whilst Ahmed comforted her.
“It’s a broken ankle.” Burak said, then continued mumbling about the English.
An hour later, having not left the pontoon and Tallulah consuming four large warm gin and tonics, Paris, the beauty therapist with her 34Fs and pink thong bikini, was taken away on a stretcher to the hospital.
“Stupid woman.” Burak said under his breath.
Gary, the executive car salesman, had decided to go with Paris in the ambulance just in case she needed help with anything and hoping that she would be wife number 5.
“Ready to slip?”Ahmed shouted to Burak.
“Ready.” The mumbling Burak shouted back, and the yacht moved away from the pontoon like a floating leaf.
The view of the mainland was breathtaking, Tallulah thought as they sailed off into the mill pond ocean. She looked at Ahmed, who she thought was falling in love with her already, even though they had hardly spoken. Tallulah felt the warm breeze on her face and thought bollocks to safety! She took off her life jacket, lay on her towel on the deck and soaked up some rays, turning her head occasionally, checking to see if Ahmed was watching her and of course, he was.
“Better come back to the cockpit, Tallulah, because we are going to raise the sails.”
The tanned, chiselled skipper instructed her, and she did as she was told for once.
It was amazing how quickly the weather changed that day; it was very unusual. The bright scorching sunshine hid behind some very dark clouds, and the breeze turned into wind. Ahmed told Tallulah that she had to wear her life jacket and go into the cabin while they sorted the sales. Tallulah felt it was God punishing her for Paris.
“Piss, bugger, shit!” Tallulah shouted as her suitcase slid off the side of the boat.
She felt something tug at her life jacket; it was Borak; she couldn’t decide if he was trying to push her overboard or save her from falling in.
Tallulah was livid. Burak had forced a life jacket on her and clipped her to the railings on the deck so she couldn’t fall in. Marjorie and Raymond were getting on very well inside the cabin, kissing like desperate animals.
“For f*** sake!” Tallulah was not having the dream cruise that she thought she would.
Even Ahmed had stopped paying Tallulah attention whilst he was busy trying to sail his yacht in the unforecast winds.
“How long is it until we get back to shore, Burak and do you think we could loop first to find my suitcase?” Tallulah asked with a fake smile and Medusa eyes.
‘We are a long way from shore and no, your bloody suitcase will not be found.” He continued to mumble.
“Fine!” she snapped at him and opened a bottle of bubbly whilst Burak fumbled around with some ropes. Tallulah didn’t mean to knock Burak overboard when the cork blasted out of the bottle and hit Burak in the back of the head.
“Man overboard!” Ahmed shouted.
“I’m sure he can get back in on his own!” Tallulah shouted with no comprehension of the dangers of the sea, no matter how calm.
Ahmed told Tallulah to call a radio SOS. She reached for the radio but paused. Did she want to save the rude mumbling man?
‘Tallulah do a mayday!’ Ahmed shouted even louder. Tallulah tried to remember everything that Ahmed had told them before they sailed away from the harbour in the safety briefing.
Tallulah decided to help, if only to impress Ahmed. She waited for further commands.
Ahmed was pointing in the direction that Burak had fallen overboard. As instructed, Tallulah threw the life ring into the sea, but it wasn’t attached to the boat. She continued to take her life jacket off and threw it at him, which was pointless. Next, she reached for the big white fender, threw it, and it hit Burak on the head.
Finally, after hearing the commotion, Raymond appeared on deck and eventually got Burak on board whilst Tallulah and Marjorie watched.
Tallulah had never experienced the anger for her that she saw in Burak’s eyes.
“Bloody English woman!” he screamed.
Raymond cancelled the mayday, and he stood too close to Tallulah; she could smell the sex on him, and she threw up a little bit in her mouth.
The return to the pontoon was in silence apart from the mumbling Burak. Tallulah had started to feel sleepy from all the booze and the sun. Her horny thoughts about Ahmed had subsided, and she just sat mourning the loss of her suitcase and its contents.
Sleepy and hungover Tallulah stepped off the boat barefoot, looking like she had been dragged through the bushes, and all she had to her name was her phone, which was flat and her credit card, which she had slipped into the crutch of her bikini during all the commotion.
Ahmed made sure that Tallulah got into a taxi to go back to the hotel, and they agreed to meet later for dinner.
Tallulah had never had sex with a skipper before, and she wasn’t disappointed. They had skipped dinner and went for drinks in Tallulah’s room. Needless to say, they had only sipped the champagne, and she was riding Ahmed until the sweat poured off their bodies.
At the airport, Tallulah stood with only one suitcase; the other was floating somewhere in the middle of the ocean with her phone charger, four bikinis, two bottles of champagne, and Jimmie Choo stilettos. She had also packed her hotel dressing gown, but she didn't care about that.
Tallulah sat in the departure lounge, Champagne bar. She felt very relaxed after one bottle.
Her phone rang and she looked to see who the caller was, 'Yacht sex God'.
She didn't answer, and she blocked the number. She decided that a long-distance relationship wasn't right for her, but she was grateful for the night of passion.
Her phone rang again, 'Samantha'.
"Hi Sam, how are you?" Tallulah was delighted to hear from her bestie.
"I need a girlie catch-up. Andy is doing my head in, and Jessica went into my bedside drawer and wanted to know what the purple shaky thing was. God help me. "