Noisome Nooky
I was crouched over the stove of the Yak Lodge in Thukla when she came in, crying.
She hunkered down next to me.
“What’s up?”
“No rooms. I’ll have to sleep out here. With the Sherpas.”
The Yak Lodge is arguably the coldest, most unhygienic accommodation in the world. But when you’re trekking in Nepal, you take what you get.
“So?”
“They stink!”
“Sweetheart, I stink. You stink. Everybody stinks. We’re trekking!”
She sobbed.
I succumbed.
“Look, I’ve got a room. It’s tiny but ... ”
“Please!”
I scrounged blankets, we drank hot mint tea, feasted on eggs and potatoes and retired to the freezing room.
Backpacks and filthy boots filled half the space.
“Right. We’ve got the mattress and our top clothes. Chuck those on the floor. Put your sleeping bag down next to mine. I’ll put the blankets on top. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Right. Get in your bag.”
I was almost asleep when she spoke.
“I’m cold.”
“Uh?”
“It’s my sleeping bag. It’s no good.”
Suddenly her arms were round my neck.
“Help me get warm!”
Zips were ripped open, hands groped, thermal underwear was pulled aside. I drank in the rank, sweaty smell of her body and we fucked like wild animals, tearing at each other until we fell asleep, exhausted.
We made a pact. We’d stay filthy until we got back to Kathmandu. For a week, we fucked ourselves stupid in rancid squalor and talked of how much better it would be when we had hot soapy water and shampoo.
Finally, we arrived in Katmandhu and checked into the Guest House.
Luxury. A hot shower and a soft bed.
“Who showers first?”
“Together!”
Afterwards, she lay on the bed, flushed, smelling of lavender.
Her eyes wandered over my pink scrubbed body.
We made love.
Listlessly.
For the last time.
Copyright © 2005 by Jim Baker. All rights reserved.
Recycled 60-year-old teen-age Pom living in Perth, Australia with wife Sylvia. Escaped from the UK by swimming to Rio de Janeiro in 1975 (backstroke) and then worked in Brazil, Canada, Thailand, Korea and Singapore before seeing sense and retiring to West Australia. Now have time to write and drink red wine, usually at the same time.
Won a couple of competitions in Oz with ghost stories and had a few short stories published in mags round the traps. Got into erotica accidentally when a mate suggested I added a sex angle to one of my stories which got published in the UK.
I entered an earlier comp of yours, didn’t win but was asked if I would like to publish the story on Ruthie’s Club. I’m now a regular contributor.
“Noisome Nooky” came from memories of a real trek in Nepal, four years ago. Sadly only the “Noisome” bit was real. The “Nooky” was wishful thinking!