Driven from Normal. (Chapter 32)

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Driven from Normal .

(Chapter 32)

Simon McKenzie started his week normal enough, but after a series of events he found himself standing in a bar wearing a cocktail dress and the weeks that followed didn't return to normal.

Chapter 32.

“Arghhh… What the Fff…. It can't be morning already…” I mumbled, slamming my hand down on my phone to kill the alarm. Mel rolled over and cuddled into me,
“Mmm… don’t get up yet…”.

As tempted as I was on the offer to just lay there a bit longer with Mel in all her naked glory, I needed to get ready. I thought I had been generous with the time I'd allowed myself before Dylan was due to arrive, but no doubt it wouldn’t still be anywhere near enough , especially if I stayed in bed.
I reluctantly pushed the covers back and battled to slide out from under Mel, who was trying her best in preventing my departure from the bed.

As I started to wash myself in the shower with the washcloth I noticed a slight tenderness in my bum. Mel had certainly given it a spirited working over the night before, but I’d enjoyed it as well, and the discomfort was sort of a nice reminder. I gave my legs another quick once over with the razor from yesterday, then used the glove thing again, I'd really liked the smooth shiny look of my legs that it seemed to give them.

I tried my best avoiding the water and not mess up the hair style Mel had created, but the steam, as well as the vigorous activities from the night before ended any chance I had, and when I stepped out to dry myself, my hair had lost all of the movie star look completely.

Mel was still dozing as I returned to her room and tried to feel around and find something to wear in the dark, the only light I had on offer was coming from the halfway and it wasn’t anything staggering at the best of times. The white bra and pantie set I’d brought in Taupo stood out over everything else so I grabbed them, as well as the first gaff I located and what I thought was a pair of jeans. Rather than disturb Mel, I went back to the bathroom to get dressed. The jeans turned out to be the denim miniskirt, which I thought would be better anyway, at least I could show off my legs better. The tee-shirt Dad had given me was a good fit, albeit a bit too short, iwasn't long enough to tuck in and sat just above the waistband of my skirt. I'd kept my makeup to a minimum but it still took me a while to get it right, I did think I was getting better at it though.

I was just about finished as Mel crashed through the door still half asleep, "Ohhh, 'scuse me… I really need a pee…" She said.

"I'll leave you to it…" I replied as I headed back to her room.

I flicked the light on and found a pair of white sport socks to slip over my cold feet. I also realised Simone didn't own any warm clothes at all. I had no sweatshirts or even a jacket that I could use to keep me from freezing and I doubted the thin tee-shirt would be up to the task if the weather was anything but perfect.

"Would you have a hoodie or jacket I can use?" I asked Mel as she burst through the door and climbed back into bed.

"Grab that pink one there…" She replied, waving her hand at the chair in the corner of the room. I put the soft, baby pink sweatshirt on and zipped it up, instantly feeling the benefit of the extra layer.

"Ohhh, yeah that's better…"

"Take that puffer vest there as well…" Mel added pointing at a black sleeveless vest dumped on the floor.

"Sweet, thanks…. Now I just need my shoes…please…"

"Awww, you're no fun… the heels would be better wouldn't they?" She said with a sleepy smirk.
I lifted my leg and showed her my sock, she let out a long drawn out sigh. "...bottom draw"

I had already had everything ready to go out by the door and was laying on the bed, seriously contemplating taking up Mel's offer of a quickie before I left, when we heard a quick double horn toot from outside,
"That'll be Dylan now…" I moaned, Mel grabbed me as I started to get up and started laying a kiss on me that would have made a hooker blush.

When she broke it off to take a breath, I suggested I should leave her more often if I got a goodbye kiss like that each time, she frowned and told me not to even joke about stuff like that…
Another toot from outside meant I should be going, “I’ll see ya later then… I’ll ring you after…” I told Mel, giving her another quick kiss.

“Hang on a wee mo…” Mel jumped out of bed and quickly walked around to her dresser, she grabbed a small glass bottle of perfume and spritzed a shot on either side of my neck just below my ears.

“Can’t have you gettin’ away without smelling as pretty as you look…” She placed her nose against my neck and inhaled, “Mmmm, damn you smell nice now…”

I gave her a peck on the lips, again, and headed out the door grabbing the stack of bags on the way past.
Halfway down the path I heard her yell, “Hey!...”

I turned back to see Mel standing in the doorway, now with her silk robe on, “What?” I asked back.

She smiled and opened the robe just enough to flash a bit of boob at me, “Ahhh...that's not very fair…” I moaned.

I opened the back door of Dylan's car and quickly unloaded the bags onto the empty seat. I was still very distracted with Mel waving as I opened the front door and got in, so when my foot hit the rubber floor mat, which I might add, had been sprayed within an inch of its life in cleaning silicone spray, I slipped and fell onto the front seat. I tried to brace myself using the door armrest but ended up slamming the door shut hard.

“Friggin hell! Did ya get that shut did ya?” Dylan asked, flinching at the sound of the door slamming. “You should have gotten a run up at it and really given it a good slam!”

“Feck, that mat’s slippery…” I said, trying not to laugh, “Lucky my years of motorsport have honed my skills and reflexes to a superhuman level…”

“Mmm, to be honest, it’s like watching a cow trying to ride a push bike” Dylan scoffed.

I gave him a filthy look and jokingly said “You calling me a cow?”

He shook his head and mouthed no. “You smell nice…” He said changing the subject.

I adjusted myself in the seat trying to get a bit more comfortable as we headed out of town, Dylan glanced over at me with a concerned look on his face, “You’re not going to put your feet up on the dash are you?”

“What?... No… Why would I do that?” I asked him.

“Normally girls always put their bloody feet up on my dash… Gez, it pisses me off… Getting dirty feet marks everywhere..”

It took a few moments to work out he wasn't joking and really meant it, I knew he took pride in his car, but frig!

“Umm, calm down princess, I had no intention of putting my feet on your precious dash…” I lifted my leg up slightly, “I don't even think I’d get them up there…” The terrified look on his face made me snort loudly and as I tried to get my leg even higher by using my arms, it was about then I felt the tenderness of my anus and winced.

“Oww…” I mumbled quietly as I repositioned myself.

“Ya right there?” Dylan asked.

“Bit of a sore bum…”

He laughed, “The ol’ spicy food from last night takin’ it's toll, aye?”

“No, it was from Mel…” I blurted out without so much as a single thought to what I was saying.

Dylan looked at me with a very confused expression, “Do tell…”
When I declined to elaborate, he pressed me further, “...Ahhh come on you can’t drop a bombshell like that and then just leave it!”

It wasn't that I was embarrassed about Mel pegging me, but it didn't feel right to be sharing our intimate relationship details with anyone else. That was a huge revelation for me, normally after I’d slept with a girl it was a top priority to brag to all my mates about it. Shit, once when I was younger, and very drunk, I had video called my mates on a group message chat while I was shagging a girl. That didn’t go down very well with the girl, but, at the time, I thought that I was a hero. With Mel I couldn’t think of anything more repulsive or degrading, maybe I’d grown up or maybe I knew how special Mel was to me!

“You’re not going to tell me are ya?...” Dylan asked again, “Ahhh well, fair enough.. I wondered if she had a kinky side to her”
I grinned, “Mmm, thought so…” he added.

The drive seemed to go quite fast, there was next to no traffic on the road and we were making good time. I was supplying the snacks from the shopping bag, and Dylan made some terrible Dad joke about how well I’d handled his nuts as I poured a handful of peanuts into his palm. That quickly led onto us both making more stupid comments and adding a Mike Tyson style lisp every time we said peanuts.

“You really tttheem to enjoy putin’ my peanth in ya moutttth don’t ya…” I laughed,

“I tthurtinly do, I can't get enough of your peanth, tho orthum.”

Dylan laughed so hard he almost gagged on a peanut and had to spit it out, which added to the laughter and both of us had tears rolling down our cheeks

As we drove through Gore and turned off on the road heading out to Waimumu, the traffic quickly got a lot heavier,
"Looks like every man and his dog is going today…Literally” I mentioned as I pointed to a Toyota Ute in front of us with two sheepdogs peering at us out of the box on the deck.

“I could do with a pee..” I mentioned.

Dylan nodded, “Same! But it looks like we’ll have to hold on judging by the traffic ahead!”

I would say it took longer to make it the final five hundred metres or so to the gate than the last twenty kilometres had taken. We approached the gate marshal in his crisp white overcoat and Dylan lowered his window and held up our two passes,

“Kia ora my Bro. Ahhh sweet. You’s need to go in the next gate down my Bro!” The young Māori guy directed us past the queue towards the stall holder's entrance.

“Awesome! Thanks mate!” Dylan replied as he maneuvered around the Ute in front of us.

The marshal gave Dylans roof a light pat, and we heard “Chur Bro!” as we pulled away.

At the next gate the next marshal guided us through and pointed towards an empty parking space.

“Quick! I’m not far off pissing myself..” I told Dylan as he was still faffing about locking the doors.

“Well I sure as shit don't want to be responsible for that…” Dylan laughed as he finished and quickly started striding across the grass, “Come on Piddles. Thought you were busting!”

“I am… but no, you go on! I’ll carry the gear…”

He turned and rushed back frantically grabbing some of the stuff I was carrying, “Quick, quick!”

“There’s a dunny! I’ll hold your stuff if you need to go first and…” he started to say as I dumped my gear off at his feet and charged towards the line of portaloos
Luckily it was still early and there wasn’t a queue or an unholy mess inside. When I was done I returned to watch the gear while Dylan took his turn.

“Shit that’s better!... I could’ve water blasted a whole driveway I reckon…”

“I’m not sure why you think I’d want to know that…” I replied, “Anyway... Better find the ol’ mans site I guess”

We spent about ten minutes wandering around before I spotted the flags with the bike logos flapping above Dads tent. The site looked very impressive. A selection of motorbikes all displayed nicely with information boards beside each one, outlining the engine details and other options. There was a white sales counter with a couple of laptops and some posters hanging on a tempory wall behind it.
“She’s a pretty flash set up, aye!” I said to Dad as he walked towards us.

“Ah fuck me! I didn't even recognize you…” He glanced down at his watch, “..bit late, but nice of you to finally make it!”

“Don't be a tosser!… This is Dylan! Dylan, this is my Dad, Arthur.”

After Dad had finished showing off in front of Dylan and trying to embarrass me, he introduced us to the other two guys that were helping for the weekend. He then suggested he should give me a quick tour of the site and explain the details of the new bikes I hadn’t seen. Dylan followed along and surprised me by asking some actually decent questions, I could tell Dad was impressed as well.

It wasn't very long before the crowds started rolling in and we quickly had a steady stream of visitors to the site, checking out what super deals were on offer.

It always amazes me watching Dad in salesman mode, he oozes confidence and charisma and sure enough, he’d signed up a sales agreement within forty minutes of us arriving. The other two guys had a customer each on the go as well, leaving me feeling a bit left out.

I approached a couple of guys, maybe in their late teens, looking at the 250cc four stroke and asked them if I could help. They went all nervous and clammed up before making an early exit.

Dylan was chuckling to himself, “Nice work there champ!”

I gave him the bird, “Lets see you do better!”

He looked a bit taken back, “I can’t sell anything, can I?” he looked at me, then towards Dad.

“Fucken’ oath ya can!, I’ll even pay you a bit of commission if you get anything signed up!”

That was all Dylan needed to hear and he also went full sales-shark mode, circling the customers not being dealt with and pouncing when he sniffed blood. He obviously had the gift gab as well and had Dad signing off on a sales and delivery agreement just after ten thirty.

My contribution however, consisted solely of taking selfies with groups of giggling teenage boys and being chatted up by dirty old men, whenever I did offer my advice to anyone looking at a bike, I was polity told they’d “Just wait for one of the guys” I knew it wasn’t a competition but I really hated losing it anyway.

The day rolled on and had turned out to be a scorcher of a day. I'd long ditched Mel's vest and hoodie and was actually pleased for having picked the cooler short skirt and tee-shirt in the warm sunshine.

After a run of hormonally charged teenage boys all showing up for a selfie all at once, I decided it was lunch time and suggested to Dylan that we should head over to the food trucks. The big ball bag actually had the audacity to eave me off and tell me to get something for him as well, then carried on talking to a guy about the new 125cc two stroke motocross bike.

“Pfft, Yeah, I’ll get you some lunch, hows a shit sandwich sound…” I mumbled to myself as I grabbed my handbag and wandered off in a huff to check out the lunch options.

I returned with a small box of food and drinks for myself, Dylan, Dad and the two salesmen, whose names I could not recall to save myself. They all thanked me and ripped through the box like a tornado through a trailer park.

I was standing behind the display walls sorting through a bix of promotional posters, when I heard someone asking where the hot chick was. “Salesman A” popped his head around the corner saying I had someone wanting to see me.

I was greeted by a fifteen year old lad, or there abouts, dressed smartly in the usual country boy attire, a blue Aertex shirt, tan moleskin trousers and RM Williams boots. His eyes lit up as I appeared then smiled at him and said Hi.

“I follow you on Instagram” he said, “All my mates do as well…”

“Ahh, Thank you! That's very nice to hear. What's your name?”

“Doug!” he said, shooting a hand out towards me…

”Nice to meet you… Doug” I replied, shaking his hand.

What sort of parent would call a tiny new baby Doug I wondered.

He was very polite and well spoken telling me all about his day and stuff he’d seen. By shit he could talk, the other boys I met that morning had only grunted, it did make a nice change to actually have someone ask questions.

Doug must have spent twenty minutes or so chatting away before he asked me for a photo. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and took a few photos of me beside the different bikes before I suggested a selfie. Dylan offered to take the photo and Doug couldn't have been happier, he put his arm around me and moved in close.

“Oh wow! You even smell really pretty!” he whispered as we paused and had our photo taken.

When Doug finally walked away scrolling through the photos in his gallery smiling to himself, Dylan walked over with a stupid look on his face,
“His phone will look like an plasterers radio tomorrow morning…”

“Eww, fuck! That’s so gross…What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” I laughed.

”I’ve got worms!” he replied, taking his phone out and snapping off a photo of me as well.


“ will mine now!”

As the day finished up and the crowds started to thin out a bit, Dad mentioned we could head off early and avoid the majority of the crowds. We agreed and both said we’d see him again tomorrow. Dylan only had the one sale but was adamant he’d get at least one more when a guy came back to show his wife the next morning.

We grabbed our stuff and started the walk back to the car, negotiating the crowds all with a similar idea, we were both in a pretty good mood having had a pretty good day out.

“Well bugger me! Is that your ol’ mate Lurch over there?” Dylan said, nodding his head towards the group in front of us.

“Ahhh, what! You’re friggin joking! Whereabouts?” I asked, trying to stand up on my tiptoes to get a better view over the mass of people in front of us.

Dylan grabbed my hand again, “Don't worry, I’ll save ya!”

“Where is he?” I asked, still trying to spot his gigantic frame.

“There! In the yellow hat…” Dylan gestured his head towards what was clearly an old lady in a yellow sunhat walking with her husband.

“You are a dickhead!”

“Mmm, maybe, but I get to hold your hand for a bit!” he smiled and squeezed his grip not letting it go, until he eventually had to, as he opened the car door for me to get in.

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'Cow on a pushbike'

Angharad's picture

Lovely turn of phrase - so why don't men trust women to know technical details of machines?


No idea, I watched guys in

No idea, I watched guys in parts shops completely ignore girls and ask a guy beside her with no idea that the asks her anyway.

Probably the same reason……

D. Eden's picture

They refuse to ask for directions. Genetic stupidity syndrome.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Same reason women don't trust...

... men to know how to separate delicates from colors and setup a washing machine :-)
Actually, it goes deeper.
Everybody knows that during WWI and WWII most of the cars, trucks, tanks, airplanes, shells, bullets and so on were made by women.
But after the wars women had to support their men. So even when a woman knew how to tune and start RR 36 cylinder aircraft engine she had to ask her man for help with any car trouble. Just so the man will not feel useless after the war ended.
I know a girl who once diaseembled-reassembled MB 6 cyl engine on the roadside. (she owned legendary W124 MB.)
Nowadays, in the presence of any man? "Oh, help me, I'm a stupid girl"...


mis click


Miss click!
Or is it Mr Click?..

Another Good Installment

I am really enjoying the story. I kind of envy Simon/Simone. I don’t tend to assume that women are technologically deficient. My wife and several women friends are very savvy. I tend to ask everyone what their level of knowledge is, and what they want to know. Anyway, thanks for the story!

Sounds like../

Angharad's picture

mansplaining to me, never assume you know more than someone else.


Never assume that it is a "mansplainig".

It could be girlsplaining.
Or, as in the famous case, actual author of the book at the table next to you.
But I could be wrong.

What is going on?

Previously when I posted comment on my first click on "save" I received my edit text field and had to click "save" once more. Now it gets posted and my reflexive second click on "save" posts another instance...
I am very sorry!

Great to hear you're enjoying

Great to hear you're enjoying the adventure so far.
I agree, most of the women I deal with on a daily basis know more than their male colleges, and are more competent.

Dumb skulls . . .

SuziAuchentiber's picture

Nothing freaks men out more than women who know stuff. Sit next to a man on a plane when the female pilot says hello over the intercom and watch them panic ! Damn neanderthals the lot of them ! I just pray I wasn't like them before - pretty sure I wasn't but I had testoterone in those days which I don't miss now !!
Hugs and Kudos, aye!


Adding a pretty face to the

Adding a pretty face to the equation never helps either, hard to be a big tough dude when the hot girl you're desperate to impress is making you look silly by knowing stuff.
P.s. I have no doubts you've always been nothing but 100% charming.

I find it easier to give

I find it easier to give everyone the benefit of the doubt that they have a functional brain and can use it, right up until they open their mouth and prove that belief to be wrong.

I try to do the same as I

I try to do the same as I've gotten older. Whenever I've pre judged the book by its cover I've been proven to be way off. Sometimes its for the better and sometimes its been very negative.


All that custom stuff sticking to Simon's body do not breathe.

I've worn silicone stick on boobies before and sweat inevitably builds up underneath them, causing a lot of problems.

I wonder how he is avoiding all of those issues in warm weather.

I'd say there will be a bit

I'd say there will be a bit of a sweat rash under them, or maybe it's some tricky new products they're using. :)