Bad Valentines Day Happy Ending

Author's note: I'm not an Australian, but I'm trying to play one in this story. I'm not sure why I wrote this as I did, I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time. As such I've probably butchered my attempts at Aussie colloquialisms and for that I apologize to any readers from Down Under.

"Goddammit!" Lachlan muttered under his breath, "what the bloody hell is this?"

Lachlan Mceuen, Lockie to his mates, was only at the chemist for barely ten minutes. Yet upon his return to his ute the right-side taillight and rear bumper had been hit, most probably by the sedan that had been parked behind him when he had originally parked his ute. Pieces of plastic were strewn out onto the street indicating the perpetrator had pulled out of their parking spot, clipped his driver side rear, and left without a trace.

"Isn't this just fucking smashing," he said to himself. "God, what else can go wrong today?"

It had been one of "those" kinds of days. First he had overslept so he was ten minutes late for his construction job, which had earned him a rebuke from his foreman. Lachlan worked as a sparkie on a building site and of all the sticklers for rules, his foreman was the worst. Then at lunch when he opened his esky he discovered that instead of the container with his intended meal, he had grabbed the container of spaghetti sauce instead. As such, that had been his lunch, spaghetti sauce and an apple.

Just after lunch, a chippy carrying a sheet of plywood rammed into the ladder Lachlan was working from knocking him and his tool bag to the ground. The fall wasn't far, and he landed in dirt, but still his leg had caught on then ladder rung and the whole thing crashed on top of him. The incident caused him to reaggravate a knee injury suffered when he was an amateur footy several years prior. He tried to shake it off, but the pain was intense enough to force him to visit the doc, who had prescribed him pain medication, which was why he was at the chemist, which brings things to the present.

Picking up what large pieces of taillight he could, Lachlan cleaned up as best he could before driving off. He opened his ute and threw his bag onto the front seat and the pieces of light into the cargo box when he saw a piece of paper flutter to the ground. A slight breeze blew it under the ute forcing him to get down on his knees to retrieve it from under his vehicle.

"Fucking hell, what else can go wrong today?" he asked of no one in particular, but a passing bloke turned to offer sympathy. His stooping motion to reach the note quickly reminded Lachlan of the pain in his leg and why he was in this spot in the first place.

Sitting behind the tiller he opened the note. The note was plainly legible and in a woman's handwriting.

"This explains a lot,"

Lachlan thought to himself, "

leave it to some fucking sheila to not know how to parallel park."

I'm so sorry about your pickup. Here is my phone number. My name is Kiana Duncan, I'm from Hawaii and am not used to driving here. Call me. Again, I'm so sorry about your pickup.

Lachlan folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

"Bloody American. At least sheila did the right thing,"

he thought as he started the engine and headed back to his unit (aka "condo" for American readers). As he drove he passed a flower shop with roses all around the front door. Lachlan then remembered today was Valentine's Day, another bur under his skin as his girlfriend of the past eight months just last week had decided she was more interested in an accountant from her office and had promptly dumped the luckless Lachlan. Lachlan yelled an expletive as he watched a young couple exiting the shop with a large bouquet.

Arriving home he took his first dose of the medicine and went to his fridge where his intended lunch still sat. In a way he was pleased about his earlier mishap as this way he did not have to find something else to eat. After his meal he disrobed and started his shower, as he still had the dirt from the construction site on his clothes and arms, face, and hair.

Finally clean, his spirits began to lift, and he felt a little better. There would be no girl this Valentine's Day, but he had Fosters in the fridge and music on his Amazon device. "Alexa, play Pink Floyd," he commanded. Alexa's Australian female voice responded, "shuffling Pink Floyd and similar artists on Amazon music." The first song was "

Wish You Were Here

" a personal favorite, to which Lachlan opened the note from the sheila who struck his ute. He picked up his mobile and dialed.

"Hello?"

"My name is Lachlan, Lachlan Mceuen and I believe you struck my ute today."

"Your what? Oh, wait, I'm sorry. I'm from Hawaii recently transplanted and am not familiar with all your slang. Yes, I hit your ute, and I cannot tell you how badly I feel about it."

"I'll be getting an estimate for repairs, but I'll need your insurance number for the claim. Is this the best way to reach you? Are you in town?"

"Yes, I live on King Street near the intersection with King William. Let me get my insurance card," Kiana's voice was soft but confident.

Lachlan felt his anger and frustrations melting away as the woman spoke. Briefly, he tried to place himself in her shoes, having to relearn how to drive totally opposite from what she had been taught, and find her way in a city where he had lived his entire life.

Lachlan wrote her policy number then had an idea. "Pardon me for being blunt, but I'd like to meet you. I'm not mad, and I do not mean you harm, but I'd like to meet you so we can put faces with the names. I'm talking about meeting in open public with people all around. We could have a cuppa at a place called O'Neil's, it's on King St. about two blocks from King William. It won't be but twenty minutes and I'll be gone to back home and out of your life." After speaking he thought,

"what a dumb suggestion, people who've been in accidents don't get together to talk about it over coffee."

Kiana took a moment to mull it over. There something about Lachlan's voice which put her at ease. She felt like she could trust him, then for a moment she thought,

"and so did those women who encountered Jack the Ripper."

But Kiana decided to accept his offer, she could at least prove to him she was not just some idiot girl who collided with other people's vehicles. Besides, part of her line of work brought her in frequent contact with men from many walks of life. If there was one thing she could do, it was taking care of herself. Kiana worked as a clerk at an accounting firm but also did parttime work as a masseuse. She knew what it was like to have male clients in a room where they were alone together.

"OK," she finally replied after a pregnant pause. "I'm open right now, I can meet you in 15 minutes."

Her response caught Lachlan off guard as he was expecting a different answer. "Right," he said quickly, "could we make it a half hour? I need to get ready and it's a five-block walk, and my leg is hurting from a fall I had earlier today."

"OK," Kiana responded. "It's 2:30 now, let's say 3:10 in front of O'Neil's. I'll be wearing a flowery print top and blue jeans; dungarees I believe you call them. There's that large boulder with the plaque, do you know the spot? Oh, and I said I'm Hawaiian, and I have the look of a native Hawaiian: black hair and olive-toned skin."

"I know the boulder well; I wired the lighting that comes on at night. I'm a sparkie, and I'll be wearing a Melbourne Demons guernsey."

"I have no idea what any of that means, but Lachan remember, this is only a meet and greet, not a date. Yet, I feel that I owe you for hitting your truck."

"Right, but Happy Valentine's Day just the same, I'll see you at 3:10 at the boulder."

Lachlan dressed and ambled down to the street. His stride was hobbled from the injury but at least the pain pills were taking effect making the walk less arduous. He arrived at the meeting place at 3:07 and scanned for a woman fitting the description Kiana had provided. There were at least two dozen people in the vicinity, but none looked like how Kiana had described herself. Certainly, none appeared Hawaiian.

"Am I ever going to fucking learn?"

he asked himself, thinking he'd been stood up.

Across the street obscured by a lamppost, Kiana watched the man who appeared similar what she thought Lachlan would look like. She had no way of knowing what or who the Melbourne Demons were and what they might wear; she didn't know (or care) anything about sports, either in Australia or in the United States. But across the street at the boulder stood a man wearing what looked like a sports jersey. Nobody else in the area wore such a ridiculous looking shirt. When it looked like Lachlan was about to give up and return home, she ran across the street calling his name.

"Lachlan? I'm Kiana. I'm sorry, but I forgot my wallet and had to return home." The lie was good enough for Lachlan, who smiled when he saw her and made the introduction.

The couple briefly chatted idly and went into O'Neil's where Kiana made good on her promise to buy Lachlan a cup of coffee, cuppa in the local slang. They conversed some more and learned that they had a few things in common. First and foremost, both were unattached on Valentine's Day. They also talked about work. When Kiana said she worked for an accounting firm, Lachlan immediately rolled his eyes.

"What?" Kiana asked.

"Please don't tell me you work for Smyth and Lewis," he retorted. Kiana sensed something was amiss from the way he spat out the name.

"No, I work for Metzger's, is there something wrong with Smyth and Lewis? I've heard of them, but I've never been associated with them."

"It's not important. It just so happens that I know someone who works at that firm and she's probably having a better day than I am." Lachlan did not want to unload his failed romance story on someone he'd just met.

"Oh? And what makes this day so bad? I mean besides the obvious that a certain young lady who doesn't understand Aussie driving damaged your truck, I mean ute."

Without getting dramatic, Lachlan recounted to Kiana about his day thus far, ignoring the ass-chewing he received from his foreman but stressing the accident, because that was the only reason his ute was parked at the chemist.

Kiana listened attentively, sipping her cuppa and rubbing her fingers around the cup.

"Your leg, will it be OK?"

"I could use a rubdown, but yes, it's not a serious injury. I'll recover. And if you'd like, you can call me 'Lockie' like my mates do."

"Lachlan," she said, ignoring his suggestion, "I have one last proposition for you, but before I tell it you have to promise me you won't take it the wrong way."

"What way is the 'wrong way'?"

"Promise?"

"How can I promise when I do not understand what you're getting at? But OK, I promise, I guess."

"Lachlan, I'm not one of your mates, so I'll call you 'Lachlan', but I have one confession. Well, maybe two or three confessions, but one stands out above the others."

"I'm listening," he said bewildered at her choice of words. His mind mulled over what she said. She was pretty, but he sensed she was dancing around something she normally didn't talk about. He thought to himself,

"what is she getting at? Confessions? Is she Catholic?"

"I work as a clerk, but I moonlight, that's American for having a second job, as a masseuse, and I'd be willing to help you with your leg."

"We use 'moonlighting' here in Australia, so you're not speaking a foreign language. I appreciate the offer, but considering our conversation, I will pay you for the service."

"No, you will not pay me, but here is another of my confessions. As I said, I'm single and prefer to live single, unattached to any man, or anyone else right now. However," Kiana saw she had his full attention, "you're cute and your day has been shit. I'd like to massage your leg. Well, I'd focus on your leg, but I'd give you a regular massage."

"OK, today?"

"Yes, we can go to the parlor I work at. It's close by and I have my own room."

"I accept those terms."

"There's one more, my last confession. I can give you a 'happy ending' massage, and I'm willing to do that if you agree to the rules."

"What rules?" Suddenly, Lachlan saw where this was heading.

"Absolutely no penetrative sex and I keep my bottoms on."

"And you'll focus on my leg?" Lachlan asked with a smile.

"Maybe this Valentine's Day won't be so bad after all,"

he thought.

"Your leg, if you'd prefer," Kiana said with a smile, "but if I only massage your leg, you'd be missing out."

"Well, I don't want to miss out on anything. Are you saying we go there now?"

"Unless you'd prefer to go shopping for groceries and stop at the bank, call your mother, and maybe get that estimate for your truck." Sarcasm was Kiana's strong suit.

"OK, OK, I get it. You lead the way. Oh, and Kiana, I think you're cute, too. I've never met anyone from Hawaii. Are all Hawaiians as pretty as you?"

"That depends on how you define 'pretty'. I've seen some Hawaiians who have the bodies of a model, but their faces remind me of a goat, and I've seen some of the most beautiful faces on bodies that weigh 300 pounds. You tell me what's attractive."

The couple walked about six or seven blocks. Kiana was mindful of Lachlan's leg so kept her pace slow but steady, asking him on occasion if he was still doing OK. Knowing what was about to happen made Lachlan mostly forget about his leg, at least the leg that was injured in the fall. His short "leg" in the middle was already beginning to rise to the occasion, especially when he walked a step behind Kiana for the sole purpose of eyeing her butt.

"That is a nice ass,"

Lachlan mused until he nearly collided with a woman walking towards him. Kiana was aware of what he was doing and rolled her eyes as she added a little extra sway to her hips.

After about ten minutes, Kiana rounded a corner to a side street and went through a door that was nearly hidden from view. Blue tiles covered the various market walls inside the corridor. She led him to an almost hidden door that opened into an air-conditioned room with mahogany trimmed walls and dark carpet sat a young receptionist who greeted Kiana and gave her a heated towel and the key to her room.

"Strip down and lay on the table, you can put this towel across your bum. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Lachlan looked around the room. It was spartanly decorated, with only a plant in one corner and an Asian stone figurine on the counter. Music, Lachlan guessed it was Japanese, played through speakers disguised as rocks, the only other features in the room. He stripped out of his clothes looking at his mostly erect cock. He gave it two or three stiff tugs before he lay face down and put the towel across his backside. He placed his face in the headrest affixed to the massage table then sighed and awaited Kiana's return. The room was comfortably warm, and Lachlan felt himself getting warmer as he lay there in anticipation. A soft rap on the door was followed by Kiana's return. Lachlan kept his face firmly pressed into the headrest.

"OK, Lachlan, let's see what we can do for your leg." With those words she squirted oil into her hands and rubbed them together before beginning the massage. She stood at the foot of the table and worked on Lachlan's non-injured leg beginning with his foot and ankle, gradually making her way along the entire leg.

Kiana spoke very little, only telling Lachlan where she was about to touch. Lachlan was tempted but refrained from looking over his shoulder directly at Kiana. He decided he'd prefer to let Kiana lead the way. After all, he knew that before he left that he'd have an orgasm by her hands, so he figured he'd embrace the building mystery.

When Kiana reached the apex of Lachlan's leg, she asked if she could remove the towel. He concurred.

"OK," she said softly, "now for that injured leg. Let me know if this hurts."

Lachlan adjusted his body, briefly raising his hips so his erection was pointing upwards. Had he left it pointing downwards, he was afraid it might (figuratively) break.

Kiana re-oiled her hands and worked the injured leg, applying firm but gentle pressure where Lachlan specified. She positioned herself so that she was adjacent to his butt but was reaching down to his injured hamstring muscle. She studied his ass and casually ran two fingers along his crack. She then leaned forward so he could feel her bare breasts press into his butt cheeks, erect nipples heightening his arousal. Lachlan grunted his approval. Kiana made sure her nipples rubbed across Lachlan's ass. Plus, she kissed his injured leg.

"I'll make this leg feel better than ever," she quietly cooed, almost inaudibly. She ran her hands up along both legs, using her hand to separate his legs. Kiana gazed at Lachlan's balls while nuzzling her face in the growing chasm between his spreading legs. She kissed everywhere her mouth met his flesh.

"I want to try something," she said as her hands continued to work their magic on his lower extremities. Kiana then raised up and placed both hands on his ass cheeks, opening the path to his back door. Her tongue extended from her mouth, and she leaned in close, so it came in contact with his puckered anus rimming his sphincter. Lachlan briefly thought how glad he was that he showered before meeting Kiana at O'Neil's, which now seemed like it was an entire lifetime ago. He moaned into the headrest.

Kiana's tongue danced across his anus as she opened his cheeks further. She next climbed onto the table with him and ran her breasts and the rest of her body against Lachlan's legs ultimately laying full on top of his prone body. He appreciated that Kiana was nude save for the small thong panties she wore. House rules prohibited full female nudity by the masseuse, but each worker was allowed to interpret the rules to assure her client had the most memorable experience. Kiana massaged both men and women, though most of her clients were male.

Kiana made her way up Lachlan's back rubbing his torso and shoulders. "Am I being too aggressive?" she pensively asked.

"No, it's wonderful," he replied, anxious for her to instruct him to flip him over.

Kiana sensed his growing arousal, and his imminent need for release, but she was in control. She had wronged him earlier in the day, and this was her way of making up for all the inconvenience that still lay ahead of him as his vehicle was repaired and the insurance company bureaucracy played out its process. But all that was in the future. Right now, she was massaging him, teasing him for the buildup to the grand finale.

"I'm ready for you to turn over," she whispered in his ear, her naked breasts touching his back, fingers running through his sandy hair. She tenderly kissed his ear and neck.

Lachlan rotated and for the first time since she'd entered the room, he saw Kiana. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, but loose strands of hair framed her pretty face. Her eyes were dark with the appearance of her Pacific Islander heritage. Kiana's complexion was flawless, silky and smooth with a blend of copper, gold, and light brown from spending hours in the sun. Her medium-sized breasts hung from her chest gently curving to a slope tipped with dark brown nipples, which were now fully erect with her arousal. Lachlan noticed how her stomach had just a hint of a tummy bulge with an "innie" navel. Her hips were straight with a very slight flare from which her legs tapered past the horizon that Lachlan could not see below from his present line of sight. Kiana's only garment was a small black thong with a sheer front. Lachlan saw just a hint of Kiana's black public hair behind the silk curtain.

"You like what you see?" Kiana asked in a sultry voice.