Jingle All The Way by Mollie Blake
David harbors a secret inner self. You’re going to love Diana! Enjoy more Mollie Blake here!
It was just two weeks before Christmas when David pulled up outside a small remote cottage in the heart of the New Forest, England. He, or rather Diana, sometimes rented this place to escape. Here, there was no one to hide from. His suitcase was full of flouncy dresses and skirts, sparkly festive tops, sexy lingerie and make-up, with space left for some colourful running gear.
The fresh air of the forest made running here a lot more endurable than jogging on the treadmill in the gym, and the eye-catching patterned Lycra and pink bandana made it a lot more fun.
On the second morning, clad in tight-fitting black and white animal print Lycra with a length of tinsel tied around his waist, a shocking pink bandana and gloves to match, and run-proof(!) mascara with fuchsia lipstick, David set off down the track. Along the ten mile trail he was accompanied by nothing more than chilly air and crunching leaves and twigs beneath his feet.
“Hey! Sorry to interrupt your run but could you do me a huge favour?”
The voice appeared to come from a massive brown dog, and it stopped David in his tracks. Fuck! That’s a big dog.
From around a tree came a lead, on the end of which was a petite girl with blonde hair peeping out from a red and white Santa hat. It wasn’t clear who was taking who for a walk. The girl was wrapped up in a bright red jumper that declared she would Jingle All The Way.The jumper, like the dog, was huge. It seemed unnecessary to wear anything underneath it, but two skinny legs in denim popped out of the bottom.
“Nero, will you wait a damn minute?”
For a moment David bent at the waist and planted his hands on his thighs, taking deep breaths, annoyed at the interruption to his run and at the invasion of this private time as Diana. Then he straightened up just in time to see the girl hurtling to the left, Nero apparently determined to sniff a clump of long grass.
“Nero! Heel! Come on.” She yanked the lead. The dog yanked back and the girl was dragged into the grass.
An image of Santa Claus being pulled by an errant Rudolph flashed through David’s mind.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl gasped, the lead straining and the dog now eating the grass. “It’s just I could do with some help.”
David stared as she dug her right foot down, swung her weight over her right hip and hauled the hound to heel. He had to congratulate her on her technique and marvelled that she was still standing. The dog must have weighed at least seventy kilos, and she looked all of fifty.
As the duo moved forward, David stepped back.
“I need to pee. Could you just hold Nero a moment while I find a bush?”
Was she serious?
“I’ve been desperate to find a woman. It’s not the sort of thing you can ask a man.”
You don’t say! Not wanting to disappoint a lady in such delicate need, David tried to sound like Diana. Usually his voice softened subconsciously but he had just run eight miles and he had to focus on his breathing, let alone his tone of voice. And what state must his make-up be in?
When the hound suddenly shook its head frantically from side to side, flinging thick laces of gooey white slobber into the air, David realised being Diana was the least of his worries.
“Er…I’m not sure I’m the one you want to help you.” David’s eyes were fixed firmly on the brown beast.
“Oh.” The girl laughed. “He’s a big softy. Look, I’ve waited ages to find a woman amongst all these bloody men running for England or whatever! And I’m pretty desperate. It’s so embarrassing when we’re crouched down behind a bush and some sod comes along. You know what it’s like.”
Not sure I do. The girl was approaching and David bent lower again, feigning the need to check his shoelaces, not sure just how much of a woman Diana looked at this particular point.
“I just need you to hold him and stand guard. I’ll do the same for you if you like while you pee.”
Now, he definitely didn’t know what that was like.
By now the poor woman was crossing her legs and smiling at him in that ‘for fuck sake help me’ sort of way. There was an awkward silence. Should Diana come clean about David? Well, from the jiggling dance Diana was now witnessing, if she didn’t hurry up and agree to help there would be no need for a bush. Just a mop!
“Okay.” With some trepidation—it was a big dog—David reached his hand out to take the lead.
At that moment a man dressed as a man raced past. Nero tried to launch after him.
“No, Nero! Wait! Stay! Bloody get back here!” the girl yelled frantically, twirling around like a spinning top, attempting to keep the dog’s lead straight while the dog attempted, literally, to run rings around her.
David stared aghast as the lead was yanked, and the canine body was hauled into the female body, legs still crossed.
“I’m sorry,” she spluttered. “He doesn’t like men.”
David’s hand shrank back and he nearly shot out of Diana’s skin when Nero barked. Any second now she’d have to cross her own bloody legs. And what fucking use would that be to stop the flow?
Unperturbed, the girl staggered forward. “Here you go. I’ll only be a minute.”
With the lead practically thrown at him, David watched her disappear behind the nearest, and in his opinion lowest, hedgerow yelling, “My name’s Gillian by the way.”
He quickly diverted his eyes. Straight into those of Nero.
There was a growl. Accompanied by the sound of flowing water.
“Is he all right?” the voice yelled from the bush.
No, I’m not, thought David. Heglared at the dog. Nero growled back.
A minute later Gillian’s head popped up.
“He usually only growls at men,” she called over the top of the hedge, water still flowing.
How much pee can there be inside such a little woman? It seemed she really did Jingle all the Way!
Finally David could hear the distinct sound of rustling and a zipper. A moment later Gillian reappeared, pulling the jumper over her jeans. “Thanks for that. Has he been okay?”
Now that she no longer needed any aid, Gillian appeared to be scrutinising Diana with some suspicion. David wiped his forehead and said nothing. In one minute he would be running down the track with only a couple of miles left to run back to the cottage. He need never see this woman or her dog again.
Suddenly Gillian stumbled and her foot sank into a lurking hole. “Ouch!”
On hearing his owner, Nero fell silent—oh, now you shut up—and pulled David towards her. Despite his better judgement telling him to throw the lead at Gillian and run, the words “Are you okay?” gushed uncontrollably from his pink coloured lips. That was if he hadn’t chewed all his lipstick off in the last few minutes.
Gillian tried to get to her feet and grimaced. “I—I think I’ve twisted my ankle.”
“You’d better lean on me.” With the lead in one hand David tried to support her with his other.
It was all Gillian could do to stand up and rest her arm around him. “Thank you.”
Now she could study him. There was no need to worry about the damn dog giving him away.
“You’re a…a man.”
David swallowed. “Yep. I.” He looked down for a moment. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No. No it doesn’t matter. I’m gratef—”
Nero stuck his head between them. He growled at David.
“Pack it in, Nero.” Gillian turned to David. “Don’t worry about him. There are some treats in my pocket.” With her arm still around David’s shoulder, she thrust her hip forward. “Grab one.”
“For goodness sake, you’ve practically just seen me pee. Go on. Get one.”
David pulled up the jumper and his long fingers reached into the front pocket of Gillian’s jeans.
On smelling a large squidgy chunk of something Nero sat down and gazed up at him expectantly.
“See. Now he’s your friend. He’s a fickle sod.”
David smiled. Thinking about some of his past brief encounters with men and women, he had to admit he had something in common with the dog. “Right.” He looked down at Gillian’s ankle before looking around at the vast forest. “So where were you going?”
“We’re staying at my brother’s place.”
Gillian nodded in the direction totally opposite to that in which David had been heading.
There was a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. We walked for about half an hour.”
That would make it about a mile and a half. Hopefully less with the damn dog meandering and sniffing every clump of grass. David’s eyes scoured the vicinity. Surely she could walk with the help of a sturdy stick.
“I’ll manage,” Gillian piped up and began to extricate herself from him. “Argh!” She wobbled and promptly landed on her backside on the track.
David crouched down. “May I?” He removed her flimsy walking boot and sock. The ankle looked swollen. It needed ice. It must bloody hurt. Fuck it!
“Look. I don’t think you’re going to make it on your own. If you want—” He glanced down at his attire. He hated anyone to meet Diana unexpectedly, unplanned. She was a private part of him, shared only with intimate acquaintances. Despite his conviction to be himself, David was always embarrassed in these predicaments, and annoyed because of that embarrassment. But this woman clearly needed help. “—I’ll take you home.”
“Would you mind? I hope it’s not out of your way. Look. Even Nero’s grateful.”
David looked down and was greeted by large brown eyes staring from thick brown fur, glancing between him and Gillian’s jean pocket. How in hell was he going to get them both back?
“Okay.” He studied Nero’s lead and adjusted it to its maximum length before handing it to Gillian. Then he turned his back to her, held his hands out behind and stooped low. “Let’s get you up.”
“Oh. Are you sure?”
Clearly a rhetorical question, Gillian immediately wrapped her legs around David’s waist and held onto his neck in a very effective stranglehold.
Cough, splutter “Ahem.”
“Sorry.” She slackened her grip.
With his passenger safely in situ, and feeling like the sack carrying Santa, David set off, thankful that Gillian was indeed about fifty kilos, and that Nero was exhausted by the morning’s events and seemed to be quite happy lolloping along. Now they could all Jingle All The bloody Way.
“So are you gay? My friend Jane is. She’s great fun. I even went to Manchester’s Pride with her last year. It was such a hoot!”
During the next few minutes, it wasn’t necessary for David to declare his sexuality. He even wondered if Gillian had forgotten whether or not he was a man or a woman. She prattled on relentlessly about her antics with Jane, both inside and outside the lesbian community. Somehow, she managed to link this topic to her love of French food, particularly a croque monsieur which seamlessly led to the fun she had in bed with a boy—no mention of the suffix ‘friend’, David noted—and an extra side dish of a bisexual man. At this point, David had to steady his footing.
After about fifteen minutes David needed a breather, and Nero needed a shit.
“There’s a bag in my pocket.”
For the last part of the journey the trio was accompanied by that inimitable fragrance emanating from the little black plastic bag dangling from Gillian’s fingers. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
With his back just short of breaking point, and after hearing all about Gillian’s stay with her brother and his friends, David finally saw a path to a large double fronted house.
“Here we are then,” Gillian announced in her jolly Jingle All The Way tone. She dropped the lead and Nero shot up the path.
“Er, is your brother home?” Not wanting to see anyone or anyone to see him, David lowered his passenger, arched his back for relief and was about to make a sharp exit.
“No. He won’t be back until this evening.” As if sensing David’s apprehension, Gillian added, “Nobody’s home now. Come on in and let me at least get you a drink.” She stepped forward and grimaced.
“Here, let me help.”
Gillian placed her arm around his shoulder in a very friendly way.
After David had let Nero out into the garden, and wrapped an ice pack around Gillian’s ankle, he poured them both a glass of water.
“Do you know?” Gillian began.
David could feel another rhetorical question coming.
“I feel like I’ve known you forever.” She glanced down at her foot. “Do you think a hot bath will be good for my ankle? It still fucking hurts.” She managed to laugh at her pain.
Amazed at her ability to change the direction of conversation with rapid fluidity, David hesitated to answer, his own mind swirling on the possible scenarios of getting her foot into a hot bath. But no, heat would not be good for her ankle until the swelling had gone down. And he wasn’t going to hang around for the next forty-eight hours.
“No. Not yet.”
“That’s a shame. You’re all sweaty after lugging me all that way. I bet you’d love a hot bath.”
David sighed. That would be nice. But not gonna happen here.
“The bathroom’s just through there.” Gillian nodded to a door on the left.
Still not gonna happen.
“And I want to say thank you. You’re my lady-knight in a shining pink bandana, love it by the way, and it will be fun. Take my mind off my poorly ankle—”
Definitely still not gonna happen.
“—I could rub your back. And I do a great blow job. You do still like those, I mean when you’re dressed as a woman? Don’t you?”
So here was a woman who pees in a hedge, sleeps with a lesbian, sleeps with two guys, and is an accomplished fellator
What the hell. That bath calls. My back’s killing me anyway…
🎄 Merry Christmas everyone 🎄