What Happens on Holiday…

15 Jan

flickr image by Cristian Borquez

You’re in for a treat, as I have another male Walk of Shame story to share with you.

This tale takes place in Northern Queensland on an undisclosed island in the Whitsundays, where a friend of mine was employed as a scuba diving instructor during his younger days.

While working as a scuba instructor, this handsome male spent his time basking on sunny boat decks surrounded by attractive bikini-clad holiday makers. As the saying goes – what happens on holiday stays on holiday. As a consequence, many of these women weren’t shy in offering this charismatic scuba instructor sexual favours.

There were two kinds of guests that frequented this particular island. Firstly, there were those paying a ridiculously inflated price to stay in one of the luxurious hotel rooms or exclusive bungalows. And secondly, there were visitors staying on yachts, merely using the island as a stopover to take advantage of the facilities.

One such female was staying on a yacht with friends and had attended a scuba diving lesson that day with the charming instructor. It had been a group lesson, which was to be the first of three lessons to take place over three consecutive days. Incessant flirting between the pair was rife during the lesson that day and continued to escalate over drinks that night at one of the beachside bars.

The air between the two was charged with hours of sexual tension, which peaked when the couple finally locked lips after sharing a couple of bottles of wine. Knowing it would be unorthodox to take his soon-to-be sexual conquest back to the small room he shared with a co-worker, the scuba instructor asked instead if he could accompany his student back to her yacht.

She eagerly agreed and they scurried off down the beach in search of her dinghy. As chivalrous as ever, the scuba instructor gallantly rowed the small boat back to the yacht. Once they reached their destination, the couple fervently engaged in an enthusiastic shagging session, before unceremoniously passing out.

The scuba instructor awoke the next day to find the sun high in the sky and his underpants missing in action. With a rising sense of alarm, he looked at his watch and discovered he had overslept and was now hours late for work. Panic-stricken, he located his bed mate from the night before – crouched on the floor near the toilet being violently ill.

Knowing it would be impossible for him to row her dinghy back to shore, as it would then be left abandoned, he realised there was only one possible option left. He would have to swim.

Being a strong swimmer, he was not afraid of the long paddle back to shore. However, he was concerned about the repercussions that may unfold if he was to be seen by any of his fellow employees. He imagined that emerging from the ocean soaking wet and still wearing the clothes he’d been seen in the night before would create a rather large spectacle.

Diving into the cool water from the yacht deck, he began confidently swimming his way back to shore. As he neared the beach, he was relieved to spy only a small smattering of tourists lounging around on the sand. He began feeling more optimistic about his chances of keeping his misdemeanour from the night before under wraps.

As the scuba instructor sliced his way through the now shallow water, then began wading his way onto the sand, he froze in terror. There, only metres away from him, was his boss, with an enraged expression on his face. And standing behind him, the same scuba diving group he had taught the day before, ready for their second lesson. Only, the group was minus one student – the young lady he had just spent the night shagging.

Her absence had already been registered by the rest of the scuba group. They had all clearly noticed the incessant flirting between their fellow classmate and instructor the day before, followed by the subsequent dalliance at the bar.

Ignoring his irate boss, the scuba instructor walked with his head held high, sea water dripping into his eyes. Clad conspicuously in the soaking wet clothes he had been wearing since the previous day, he continued to march straight past the snickering diving group.

Bravely, he returned to lead the contemptuous group again the following day in their third and final scuba diving lesson. However, his female conquest remained noticeably absent, her yacht having vanished into the seas off the Whitsundays.

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