All characters are over 18.
"Ola, hello, welcome to club 18 -22, I am Miguel and I am your pimp for the week," the sun bronzed Spaniard announced as he walked into the girl's room.
Sandra laughed drunkenly and said, "Oh right, Pimp eh, maybe your English isn't too brilliant?"
"Pimp, he said Sand!" Irene replied equally drunkenly, "Because if he's our pimp that makes us."
"Prossies!" Sandra exclaimed, "Sluts, bring it on!"
"Que?" Miguel replied.
"Boys, bring 'em on, that's what we came for!" Sandra insisted.
"Boys, men, chop chop," Irene laughed, "Just a minute I'll slip into something more comfortable," and she hoisted her tee shirt over head, "Never seen tits before?" she queried as Miguel stared.
"Call those tits, these are tits," Sandra declared and she hoisted her tee shirt over her head and popped her DD breasts out of her bra cups, "What's up Miguel?"
He looked very uncomfortable, "You want fucked?"
"Well we didn't come for the ballroom dancing!" Irene declared, "Find us some boys!"
"Chop Chop," said Sandra, "Bollocks, where's the bog? I got gyp," and she went off to throw up
It all started nearly two months earlier back in Yorkshire when Irene found a club 18 - 22 leaflet in the College Library, she showed it to Sandra, "Look, a week in the sun for just a hundred and fifty quid," she laughed.
Sandra looked carefully and spoke her thoughts, "Sun, sex and,"
"Sunburn! It has to be better than Skeggy." Irene jokingly made reference to the East Yorkshire North Sea resort of Skegness, famous for it's icy winds and frequent rain.
"We're going to Bridlington, to watch the sunrise." Sandra said, "Again."
"Maybe, now we're eighteen, we could like?" Irene suggested, "In the holidays."
Irene broached the subject of a week in Spain with club 18-22 when she took Sandra home for tea after before choir practise on Thursday .
"You're not going," Mrs Braithwaite told Irene straight out when she asked, "Club 18-30 holidays what ever next!"
"But it's not our Mam," Irene insisted, "It's club 18-22 and its completely different, look there's phone number and they do mentoring and everyone has to be in their room by eleven at night!"
"And its very reasonable price considering," Sandra, Irene's friend from college insisted.
"I wonder how they do it." Mr Braithwaite said as he looked at the flyer the girls brought round, "You couldn't have a week in Skeggy for that."
"It's cheaper out there Mr Braithwaite," Sandra explained.
"Well," Mr Braithwaite agreed, "We'll sleep on it, see what Albert and Frieda say."
Sandra stood up to go and Irene followed her, "Our Mam said the same," Sandra said, "See what Harry and Ethel say, we'll end up stuck in Filey if we aren't careful."
"It wouldn't be so bad if we didn't have to borrow the money," Irene sighed, "We should have saved up."
"Maybe we could put it on the card?" Sandra said.
"Pay ten per cent interest, I should coco," she said, "I'll ring tomorrow and see what they mean by 'Easy terms."
Sandra rang the number, "Is that Club 18 - 22?" she asked.
Forty miles away in the garage of a typical English suburban semi detached house Justin and Sebastian were chilling over a game of pool on their miniature pool table.
The phone on the wall rang, Justin answered it "Yes Club 18 -22," he agreed motioning Sebastian to be quiet, "How may I help?"
"Well we wants to go on trip to Spain next month, but we're a bit short." Sandra explained.
"Well, that's difficult, would 'we' be your boyfriend?" he asked.
"No me mate Irene and me," Sandra said.
"Well perhaps we can do deferred payment but you do need to apply on line, you must have a current Facebook account and a working web cam so we can make sure you sign the online form," Justin explained, "You need your passport obviously, but log on and send an application and we'll be in touch."
Sandra sighed, "OK she agreed uncertainly, "But can't you tell me the priceover the phone?"
"I'm afraid it's company policy," he said, "Everything done digitally so there is no confusion, no argument, just log on, its really very simple," he explained.
"OK," Sandra agreed reluctantly.
"I'll look forward to your application, good bye," Justin said and hung the phone up, "Minger," he said to Sebastian, "Yorkshire accent as thick as treacle, yuck."
"Probably thirty eight, thirty eight, forty two," Sebastian laughed "Don't hold your breath."
Sandra saw Irene in the college refectory, "We have to apply on line," she said.
"There's computers in Library," Irene pointed out.
They went to the Library after class, logging in was simple but the girls struggled
and it was only when the Librarian showed them how to input the web address instead googling it that they got on the club 18-22 site.
They filled in the forms, and pressed "Submit."
Forty miles away the incoming email pinged loudly, "Oh," Sebastian acknowledged, "Bingo!"
"Great, no web cam," Justin sighed sarcastically, "Email her."
Sandra and Irene switched off the machines and went home so they never found the emails requesting they use the web cams until the next day, and by then Justin and Sebastian had just about agreed that Irene and Sandra were a waste of time.
Irene phoned on her mobile, "Its Irene Braithwaite, I emailed and you wanted to see me on web cam, well its working." she said.
"Minger alert," Sebastian mouthed, "OK, yes, right," he said as he frantically fiddled with the computer, "Oh got you," he agreed as a slim if slightly top heavy brunette filled the screen.
"Me mate Sandra's here," Irene said helpfully as her friend ducked in front of the camera.
"Hi," Sandra said.
Sebastian grinned as Sandra's long blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders and her pert boobies bulged unnaturally as she craned around to look into the lens.
"Yes," Sebastian agreed, "Well that tallies with your Facebook acount, when did you want to go?"
"First week in August?" she suggested.
"Excellent," he agreed.
"So how much?" Sandra asked.
"How much?" Sebastian replied, "Fifty pounds deposit and the balance by Christmas?"
"I don't know," Irene demurred, "Like how much."
"We have a few spare rooms that week so a hundred and fifty?" he suggested, "Fifty deposit and ten pounds a week.
"You sure?" Sandra asked, "That sounds too cheap."
"We make money on the food and drink, they aren't included," Sebastian lied, "Maybe the boys will buy your drinks."
"Whooo boys bring them on," Sandra laughed.