My mate Taika Rainbow’s got the gift of the gab, no question. She’s all glam, sharp as a tack, and knows exactly how to play the game. But sometimes she’ll switch on this angelic little act—makes you just wanna scoop her up and cuddle her. Proper cheeky, she is.
Remember this one time, we were on a coach trip. Packed to the rafters, it was. The driver was this stern bloke, Michael. Long overnight drive ahead, and no relief driver for him. He turned round to our rowdy lot and said,
“Gonna be a long haul—reckon I might doze off at the wheel, God help me. Any of you ladies fancy keeping me company? Sit up front, have a natter? I’ll make it worth your while.”
Everyone pulled faces—felt sorry for the bloke, but no one fancied staying awake with him. The lot of ’em just wanted to crash in their seats and wake up at the destination.
Enter Rainbow. She volunteered to keep Michael entertained while the rest of us kipped. Strolled up front, smoothed her skirt, batted her eyelashes—picture of innocence.
“Don’t know what to chat about, really,” she murmured, all shy-like. “I’m a bit quiet, but I’ll give it a go.”
Passengers started settling in, Michael tore down the motorway, and Taika kicked things off.
“So, captain,” she chirped, “what’ll we talk about? Fancy hearing about my first love? Back when I was nineteen, donkeys’ years ago…”
“Now we’re talking!” Michael cheered. “That takes me back—feels like the Dark Ages. Go on then, love!”
“Well,” Taika sighed wistfully, “back in the day, I had my first proper romance… or second, maybe third. Honestly, lost count. Somewhere in the top ten, though. Won’t tell you his real name—let’s call him… Snuggles.”
Michael chuckled, gripping the wheel. Taika spun her tale about how they’d met—some grand passion that hit ’em like a truck, right smack in the middle of High Street at sunset!
“Me and Snuggles just *knew* we were meant to be,” she gushed, eyes sparkling. “Like, right after tea, we just got up and marched straight into each other’s arms! Found each other at this crossroads under the first evening stars, while the pubs were just warming up and the first punch-ups kicked off…”
“Alright, Shakespeare!” Michael grinned. “How’d it go then? Got down to business, did ya?”
Taika huffed. “Would’ve been perfect—if we had anywhere to *go*! My place was a no, his was a no. Mates’ flats were all booked solid, couldn’t afford a hotel…”
“Bloody classic!” Michael barked. “Been there, done that—hormones going mental, girl all over you, but nowhere to take her. Might as well lie down in the middle of the road!”
Taika sighed. “We hunted for *any* spot, but no luck. Even tried the park benches under the trees—some lovey-dovey epidemic, every single one taken! And then Snuggles goes, *‘Alright, love, maybe another time?’*”
Michael *roared*, nearly swerving off the road.
“*WHAT?!* ‘Another time’? That Snuggles is a right muppet! Swap me in his place, I’d have—where’d you even *find* this clown?!”
Taika giggled, all mysterious-like.
“Only joking, Michael! Clever Snuggles had a backup plan. Took me to this tower block he knew—roof access never locked…”
“Ah, now we’re talking!” Michael nodded. “Roof’ll do! So long as the girl’s up for it and the night’s dark enough. Stars, clouds, proper romantic. Reminds me of this one time in the depot loft—ah, never mind. Go on, Taika.”
When Taika’s on form, she’d put poets to shame. She painted the picture—them lying under the midnight sky, feeling like tiny specks on that massive rooftop, nothing above ’em but the ancient universe.
“…moaning with passion, we started undressing,” she whispered, all breathy. “Had this patterned crop top with mad fiddly clasps—snapped my nails wrestling ’em loose! My skirt, light as dandelion fluff, slipped right off my hips…”
Michael was all ears, growling and grunting—no chance of sleep now. Taika’s a stunner *now*, but imagine her back then? Whole coach would’ve drooled.
“I tore off every last stitch, burning for love!” she purred. “Moonlight glinting off my lace knickers… air thick with the smell of us, all heat and want… And then Snuggles *says*…”
“Yeah? *What’d* he say?!” Michael wheezed.
Taika paused. “He goes, *‘Looking fit, Taika! Fancy undressing again?’*”
Michael *howled*, nearly sending the coach into a hedge. “A *naked bird* in front of him, and he asks for an *encore*?! I’d have twatted him into next week!”
Taika cackled. Coach was wide awake now—no one slept a wink.
Later, she smirked at me. “Serves ’em right! Thought they’d nap on *my* shift? Dream on. If I’m up, *everyone’s* up.”
