Dear Nanny
 
It's been almost a month since we said good-bye.
 
The week leading up to your good-bye was the worst and happiest week of my life.
 
Driving up to see you in Ballarat Base Hospital, to spend a few hours with you and Mum was so enjoyable. I loved giving you a single red rose and proclaiming you my Valentine. I only wish that I had the chance to read you the letter, when you were sitting up and your eyes were open and having a conversation with us. I feel so lucky to have recognised Aunty Karen in the lobby. She and I speak at least once a day even after you had left us and she returned to Ballarat.
 
Seeing you the next day, when you were in Melbourne, was emotional. Mum cried all the way to the hospital, she was trying to convey her feelings and how much you meant to her. Trying to turn left onto Swanston Street, and hold Mum's hand whilst she sobbed, was hard. Listening to her was the worst part. You meant so much to her: every time she speaks about you, her eyes light up as she tells us the stories of the time you spent together. Because of you, and the relationship you had with her, it has truly defined the type of relationship she had decided to have with Whitney and I. For that, I am truly blessed and say with the utmost confidence that Mum is my best friend.
 
On Sunday, you saw all of us together. Your husband, your daughter, your son, and your adopted daughter - your grandchildren. You looked so happy.
 
Over the next few days, you had a standard MRI to measure the bleeding in your brain from the brain cancer. Whilst you were having this MRI, you fell unconcious and the severity of your condition was realised. You were rushed to surgery, where they shaved the back of your head and you were in theatre for eight gruelling hours. At 9PM, Monday 16th of February, we got the news that you had survived the operation and gotten over the first hurdle.
 
You were so strong. You weren't ready to leave us yet, and I know that. Sitting beside your bed when you were in intensive care, was something that I knew I had to do.  The doctors told us that you couldn't hear us. But I refused to believe that was true. I sat beside you for hours and told you fun stories about our time together, Whitney and the cute doctors. Between the stories, I would whisper that you would have to wake up. I wasn't ready for you to leave yet. We had come too far for you not to open your eyes and hear us tell you that we love you one last time. 
 
On Wednesday, Aunty K, Mum and I went into the hospital again, ready for another day of talking and bringing you back to us. Aunty K and Mum weren't expecting you to be so compliant so early in the morning! After just a few minutes of talking, you opened your eyes. A sigh of relief overcame all of us. We were so happy. I remember you gripping my hand so tightly, when I went to sit with you. I just repeated to you over and over how much I loved you and how much you meant to me. You nodded and tried to speak. You couldn't, because of the tube in your throat. I joked that I was going to tell everyone that you were trying to say it to me anyway. You tried to smile. I know you were trying to say it. I repeated my stories again from the previous day, because they were truly my happiest memories with you. 
 
On Thursday, they took your tube out. You had signed a DNR order previous to this, which I didn't know about. The anxiety I felt on this day was indescribable. After the tube was out, you were talking...  you were back. This was the happiest day of my life - the one thing that I wanted to hear, your voice, was back. When we were alone, you said you knew that I had been there every day. I nodded, my eyes blurring with tears. You told me off for not being at work, I told you off for telling me off. Every time I left that room, I always said what we said to each other. 
 
On Friday, you were moved to HDU. I thought that this meant good things. That you were getting better. You kept asking when you could go home. Sid wanted you home. I wish that you could've gone home. I know you truly wanted to be there. You complained about your purple hair. I reassured you that I would dye some of my hair purple as well, so you could tell people that you copied me. You scoffed at me, but I kept true to my promise.
 
Overnight, you took a turn for the worst and developed a blood clot in your good lung. At the time, I didn't realise how serious this was, until the nurse explained it to me the next day. On Saturday, you drifted in and out.  I feel so lucky, that on this day, Daniel and I, the two grandchildren that spent so much time with you growing up, sat with you and got the last conversation that anyone ever had with you. We laughed, joked and chatted, until you got tired and wanted to sleep. This was the last time that I ever got to speak to you...
 
On Sunday, the nurses prepared us for the worst. I sat in that tiny room with Aunty K, Caz, Mum, Whit and Deb as we told you stories and repeatedly told you how much we loved you. Sid made it back to be with you. He didn't want to see you this way, but he knew you needed him. Needed to tell him that you love him in your way and that you would watch over him. After everyone filtered back in, for Sid's time with you - I read you my letter. The one I couldn't read you, exactly a week before. I stumbled over my words, and paused to take a deep breath. I knew it was so important for me to get through the entire letter so you know just how much I love you. How much you had defined me and how much I enjoyed the time we spent together. Behind me, I could hear Whitney sobbing - hearing my words that echoed her sentiments.
 
Whitney and I said good-bye to you that night, knowing it was the last time we would ever see you. I leaned forward and pressed my forehead on yours, and told you how much I love you. How much I will miss you, and that it was okay for you to go to peace now. The guilt I felt for days after, for telling you that you could go in peace, when I didn't mean it, shocked me. I wanted you to be in peace. But I just wasn't prepared for you to go so soon. I wanted more time with you. I wanted you to hold and cuddle my children.
 
I miss you so much.
 
I still go to call you on a Wednesday and joke with you about our celebrity crushes.
 
My heart is still broken - and I just wished I could have that healed so it wouldn't hurt to think about you and to think about how much I miss you. I know you were determined to win this fight and get more time...
 
I know you are in peace now and you are free from pain. As every day passes, I accept more that you aren't here. 
 
I love you more than the universe.
 
Love RP
xxx

Aafke and I have always had a powerful relationship. Whether it was drinking it up at home or at a club – to pashing in a dark corner, just because it was fun. We always have a blast together. So going car shopping with her was going to be no different. I was returning to the car yard for the first time, since Aafke and I were there. I am sure the car dealers remembered her and me.

I walked up to the car yard. It had been a while since I returned – last time, I embarked on something that was a bit of a stretch, even for me – but it was mind-blowing and it was awesome. It was with my gal pal, Aafke. We had an encounter, at this very place, so to speak – and standing in front of her, seeing her in the flesh, it bought the memories back.

She had long black hair with the wicked bright red streak that had me mesmerized as I was trying to help her pick out a brand new car at Logsdon Cars Inc in Brussels.  I watched her as she ran her hands up and down the leather admiring its delicacy.

It was late, just before closing, at Logsdon Cars Inc in Brussels. We both were wanting to check out the cars, but Aafke especially – and get some more information before just opening our purses and giving away the money. Then we saw the Bendlay, it was black with interior leather to die for. It was beautiful.

Aafke and I both hopped into the back seat and admired the leather and took in the ‘new car scent’. I ran my hands up and down the leather in the seat between us, my eye caught hers, I am not sure how it happened or what even came over us – but we both leaned in and gave each other a kiss.

Softly at first, and then hungrier, wanting – her lips on mine and our tongues danced like figure skaters wanting a gold medal. My hands ran up and down her long legs, and her hands wrapped themselves tightly around my neck and back. I am sure for anyone that walked past; it was a dream coming true. Two girls, a beautiful black car & a leather backseat.

As we lay on the backseat, ravaging each other’s lips – one thing led to another.

It’s here that I admit to my sexual shame. I had sex with Aafke Dijkstra right there in the backseat of that black Bendlay and it was damn hot.

The windows fogged up, we were sweaty and wanting more…

By the time we emerged – a small crowd of employees had gathered, my hiked up skirt, Aafke’s sex hair. I felt my face go red – and sneaked a look at Aafke, who was equally red. Was it embarrassment or pleasure … who knows?

I didn’t need to go back into the car yard…. the memories were even better. Aafke and I will meet up again… it’s a certainty as our first public encounter was the hottest by far.

 So I am just about to the end of my pregnancy.

In fact, as I write this, I can feel contractions every so often (Ten minutes or so??) and I think, I have already thrown a stapler, sticky tape dispenser and cordless mouse at the wall due to my pain and agony. It is not helping that my daughter Melodi (almost three), thinks it is hilarious to torment her poor Mommy who can't get out of the chair or bend down to get a toy.

I am not very happy with your treasurer right now. Yes. Your treasurer. Los Angeles treasurer, Stephen Smith. He is the father of the demon spawn that has given me hell the past nine months. The spawn that will kick me in the bladder and kidneys just because it wants to ‘stretch’ (Um, there isn’t much room in there anyway, how much space do you need!). The spawn that thinks it's hilarious to 'want' ice-cream in the middle night. Oh yes. Oh so hilarious! So in turn and in typical female style (and irrationality), I have decided it's all his fault.

To his credit though, Stevo has done well to put up with my whinging, whinging and plonking Izzy (our almost one year old son) on his lap and snapping 'Take him! He is driving me crazy! He just ate my red lip gloss!'

So who would've thought a fling (being shag buddies perhaps?) would've led to two kids? Yes, yes, I can hear all the adults rolling around going 'Well duh Beth! That's what happens!' And whilst Stevo and I have never (and won't ever) be in a relationship together, we will always remain good friends and committed parents to our children.

I think about all the kids out there, that don't have two active parents in their lives for whatever reason - and feel sad. I feel sad that their parents couldn't get it together and work it out. I feel grateful... that I could do that for my kids, that their father(s) are always in their lives - regardless of my relationship with them. I could get on my soapbox and rant about the rights for fathers - but I think that's for another day... another column.

Contractions are five minutes now. I think it's time to breathe through it and wait... it's almost time, the baby will be here soon.

Till next time,

Beth
xxxx

I flew into Warsaw Lotnisko Okęcie airport like a woman on a mission. I had someone important to see, someone who was important in this country. It was someone who could make a difference.

Dressed in a black mini-skirt and a hot pink singlet top, the cool breeze made me feel better as I walked quickly toward the Court House. I was going to see the Chief Justice, Otis Crawford.

Otis and I went back a little bit. We were both Chief of Police around the same time (myself, Melbourne, him in Copenhagen). I was fairly critical of his performance, so therefore we became silent adversaries. He got fired up easily, was passionate about what he did and wanted to deliver so badly. It was hot. I am sure he thought I was a bit snobby – and at the time, the feeling was mutual.

That was then, and this is now, and as I walked through the sliding doors of the Court House, a homely feeling returned. All those years of testifying on behalf of the police department came flooding back to me, it was a familiar feeling, it felt like home. I walked over to the reception area and spoke to the receptionist. Pretty, blonde and chewing a lot of gum.

‘Otis Crawford’s office please.’ I said.

The gum-chewing receptionist looked up at me for a moment and gestured to the right hand corridor. I nodded in appreciation and walked down, my high heels clicking with every step. I came face to face with the door that in bold letters read; ‘Otis Crawford Chief Justice’  

I knocked, with a flourish and heard ‘Come In’ from a familiar voice. He didn’t know I was coming to see him, I liked to have surprises on my victims… er I mean conquests. I threw open the door and entered the room. Otis jumped up from the chair in surprise.

‘Beth!’

‘Otis.’ I said nodding my head back in recognition; I walked over, slowly, running my finger along his long mahogany desk.

‘What are you doing here?’ he said, still shocked at my presence. 

‘Was in the area… thought I would… stop by…’ I said, letting my voice trail off whilst I sat down and perched on the desk opposite Otis’.

‘Stop by?’ Otis said clearly confused as to my intentions, though I would’ve thought my outfit would’ve made it very clear and obvious.

I reached over and picked up Otis’ gavel and played with it in my hand.

‘Yeah… I am feeling kind of bad as to how things went down when we were both Chief of Police…’ I replied.

‘Oh… I am sure we can talk about it over coffee,’ Otis offered.

I leaned in real close to Otis, barely touching his lips and whispered.

‘I don’t drink coffee.’

I made my move, giving him a soft kiss on the lips, he was surprised at first, taken back by everything that had taken place all at once, I kept going, kissing him further with more tongue and leaning closer. Otis recovered from his surprise and got into it, lowering me on to his desk. His hands ran down my back like a musician playing a classical piece on piano. My arms were around his neck, trying to pull him closer and closer. Within minutes, we were breathless and hot. We both wanted more.

I am not sure how it all happened next, the events occurred so quickly. I was on the Warsaw Chief Justice’s desk, making out with Otis and one thing being led to another (as always these stories go) in the very next moment to being spanked with his gavel that he judges all his cases with.

When it was all over, we laid on the floor of his offices. As I lay in his arms, my head rested on his chest – we both couldn’t believe the turn of events. Sure… this is what I came for, but he was good… real good! I underestimated him. We were both breathless and sweaty; the office had the musky smell of our afternoon’s activity.

I never did call Otis after that day – maybe I should have. He was always so busy and it was not like this was a serious affair.

He handled the spontaneous act well… maybe we should meet up again soon…

Being a groupie is hard work. I got to remember a lot of stuff! Like names… phone numbers… names! That’s a big job! I also have to look my best, so that requires a lot of shopping. Shopping for outfits, make up, accessories – sigh – I need to get me a sugar daddy or something. Second thought – forget that, I enjoy my freedom too much!

I like to party. My girls and I like to go out on the weekends and live it up. I am star, I am famous – why shouldn’t I? Vodka and raspberry in one hand, breezer in the other, I could be dancing on tables or on the dance-floor. On this particular night, this guy grabbed my eye, my attention. He was familiar, but from where? The tattoos… where was he from?

My mind drifted back to a couple of months earlier, same club, and same sort of night. The music was pumping loud and I was getting my groove on, on the dance floor. Whilst dancing, wiggling my hips and tossing my long hair, a pair of strong arms came up behind me – put their hands on my hips and moved in time with music. I then heard a husky whisper in my ear, ‘Wanna dance’.

The voice sent chills up my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I turned around and was stand face to face with Des Swink.

‘I don’t know… I have seen what your mate, Connie Perkins can do…’ I said, leaning over and speaking directly into Des’ ear.

Des threw his head back and laughed.

‘Connie Perkins? Sweetheart… you haven’t seen anything yet!’ he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me close, still keeping in time with the music.

We danced the night away, the music was like foreplay, and a couple of songs in we were making out like teenage children at an end of year disco. His tongue and my tongue.  His hands were tightly around my waist and in my hair and my hands around his neck and waist. He was an amazing kisser; it was such a refreshing change!

Des grabbed my hand and led me through the club, through to the exit and hailed us a cab. The ride back to the hotel was us in the back seat, just kissing passionately. We couldn’t get enough of each other’s lips. I could taste the bourbon and cola on his lips and tongue; it was like getting drunk all over again.

Admittedly, I was tipsy at this stage; I had a few vodka and raspberry drinks. Having Des take command was such a turn on, for once it wasn’t me doing the seducing – I was being seduced by his command, his forwardness. He led me straight to his hotel room, whispering sweet things in my ear and holding my hand tight.

We got up to his hotel room and it was a lavish penthouse suite. It was one of the most amazing rooms I had ever witnessed – whilst standing out, looking outside at the view, Des poured me a glass of wine and put on some ‘mood’ music. Such a drastic difference, to the experience I had with Connie Perkins.

Des took me in his arms and we kissed passionately, falling on to the bed and rolling around. Removing each item of clothing slowly, carefully – concentrating on the kisses and massaging each other’s tongues.

As the night progressed, we fell deeper and deeper into each other’s arms. And as this story usually goes, one thing led to another. At no point, was there ever a ‘Connie Perkins’ experience!

After an hour of sleep, I awoke. The sun shining through the open window of the penthouse and was utterly exhausted from the nights events. I slid out of bed, tried to find my clothes – somehow my boob tube ended up on the balcony (how did that get there again?), and cleaned myself up.

Although utterly exhausted, I managed to write a note on the back of a hotel napkin and stuck it on the pillow next to Des Swink – ‘Thanks for the best night, so much better than Connie Perkins, Love Beth’.

Which brings me back to tonight – the realization that it was Des walking through the club with his band mates, I cringed a little after not calling him after our fantastic night together. He scanned the crowd and caught my eye and gave me a friendly wave and wink. I did the same, grinning to myself…

I love being single.

When out on the town, I seem to always bump into famous people. Really famous people. Stephen Smith, Ed Keane, Sara Hansen – just to name a few. Sometimes it’s great to just meet normal people – I mean as normal as some people can be. I am not into the freaks that like to smell feet or think shoes are the best thing on earth since sliced bread.

Currently I am touring in London, whilst checking into the hotel, T.o.P Hotel. I observed this incredibly hot guy, strode through the place. He was wearing a black singlet top, with bulging arm muscles on either side, he couldn’t be more than 20 years old, as his shirt had the words ‘MILF Hunter’ on either side. Despite the immaturity of the t-shirt, he was gorgeous. I cannot put into words just how gorgeous he was.

Later, I learnt his name was Alanas Anikonis. He was just starting out in the music business and working out was one of his favourite past times. After I was all checked in and leaving the kids with their nanny, Skye, I went down to the hotel’s gym area to do a quick workout before dinner. There he was, the ‘MILF Hunter’ himself, working the treadmill. I hopped on the treadmill beside him in hope he would strike up conversation with me, after all – I was a famous girl and was constantly in the gossip pages, he should surely know who I was. I puffed my chest out, and let the girls do the work. I could feel the gorgeous-god’s eyes googling through me.

‘Ms Christou?’ he said, patting himself with a towel beside my treadmill.

I did my best to pretend that I was distracted, by continuing to look straight ahead, but I couldn’t help but glancing down at his eager face.

‘Hmm?’ I replied.

‘I am such a fan…’ he began

My mind began to drift off as to what he would look like without his shirt on, he continued to talk away.

‘So would you like to join me in the sauna?’ he ended with a hopeful smile on his face.

He was a fan… a nobody… and he was a Greek god that was so damn hot, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity!

‘I was heading that way myself…’ I replied.

I let Alanas lead me to the Sauna room, I stripped down to my g-string underwear and bikini top, and took a seat and allowed the heat and steam to relax me. Alanas took a seat beside me, and opened up his towel. He was naked and he was as beautiful as he was with clothes on.

What was getting into me that I was getting flustered over some absolutely gorgeous fan?

I am not sure how it happened, but the steam and the heat went to our heads, and the next thing I know, we were kissing passionately on the bench of the sauna. Of course, as these things do, one thing led to another.

It seemed like hours when we emerged from the sauna, much sweater than we should be.

We both took a cool shower together, and feeling his strong arms around me, pinned up against the shower wall as we went for it again. His lips went all over my face, my lips, my cheeks, my chin and neck. Even with the coolness of the water, he made me hot all over.

After we were done (again), I wrapped myself up in a towel and robe.

‘Could I see you again?’ Alanas asked me, his facial expression hopeful.

‘Maybe…’ I said remaining coy.

Though really… there is no maybe about it. I gave him my number and we will liason again… he may be a fan, but oh my he is cute and built like a Greek god.

Almost ten years ago, I went out on my own. I was in a punk rock band; ‘Emulsion’ and we signed our very first record deal with a man named, Connie Perkins. I didn’t know much about Connie when I was younger, it was only after going to meet him for the first time, that I realized it was ‘The’ Connie Perkins, ‘Big Man on Campus’. There was big question as to whether he was the new Kobe Tai, and even meeting up with him to sign the contract, I remember resisting the urge of bowing down and pleading for the love and peace of human kind.

As the years have gone by, I have embarked on my own, became a business woman, mother and band groupie. Whilst in my around the world travels, Connie and I crossed paths, on this particular night out, we did more than ‘cross paths’.

I was with my girls, Lola & Thelma, and we were doing our usual, dancing and drinking cocktails at a rock club. The light dimmed and ‘Popomundo’ came on stage, I was mesmerized – it was the first time I actually saw them play, but the drummer and trumpet player was completely amazing! As the spotlight, zeroed on, I realized – it was Connie!

As the girls and I danced and drank, the band rocked the crowd with their set – at one stage, Connie and I’s eyes met. A hint of recognition was behind his eyes, though I am sure it was one of those, ‘I’ve seen you before’, looks. So much had happened in ten years; surely I had grown up a bit since I was eighteen years old! 

After the show was over, Lola (as she always does!) secured us tickets in the backstage area. It was one of the best parts of going out and seeing bands, because I love to get to know the people behind the voices and the hip thrusts. By the time, we made our way backstage, the band were seated in different sections, Connie was seated in a booth cleaning his trumpet out from the nights events. I knew I would kick myself, if I didn’t say hello, so I sucked my apprehension up and strode over to Connie, careful not to trip in my eight inch heels.

‘Hey Connie, not sure if you remember me, but I use to be an artist on your label, the name is Beth,’ I said, my mouth going dry the moment the words left my mouth.

‘Of course, Beth! How are you doing?’ His voice made me weak at the knees, was it just that he was supposedly the second coming of Kobe Tai, he was doing this to me? 

From there, the conversation flowed freely – of course, with something like that, the drinks did too. 3 AM rolled around, the bar staff truly had enough and wanted to close up, so Connie offered to walk me back to my hotel room.

As we walked (or stumbled after one too many vodka and lemonades), we teased each other – first he grabbed my hand and pulled me close, his face was so close I could feel the lightness of his breath on my cheeks, just before we could get into the ‘moment’, he would pull away. It seemed my reputation was starting to precede me and I was going to have to shake things up a little bit. After the second time, of grabbing my hand and pulling me close, I put my lips on his and went in for a kiss, it was light at first, but as we stood in the street, he put his arms around my waist and I flung my arms around his neck, just enjoying our lips on each others.

We controlled ourselves long enough to the hotel room. Luckily, we were staying in the same hotel, we went up to his room and we continued to kiss, which at this point was nice, but I wanted more… I wanted more of Connie.

We peeled each others clothes off and were rolling around the bed like maniacs. When it came down to the crunch, something was missing. I looked down, and realized that Connie… wasn’t up it so to speak.

‘What the hell!’ I exclaimed.

‘Oh god, this never happens!’ Connie said, rolling on to the side of the bed and hunching over.

I jumped up and started to put my clothes on.

‘I thought you were ‘big man on campus!” I said sarcastically, pulling my pants on and picking my shoes up. ‘I don’t have time for this crap!’

‘I can give you names and phone numbers! This has never happened before!’ Connie pleaded, covering his manhood with his hands as I picked up my bag.

‘Whatever! Save it for the next sucker!’ I said, yanking the door open and slamming it behind me.

After all the build up, I was all frustrated with no where to go – it was time to embark on old faithful. I put my shoes on in the elevator, checked my hair and makeup in my compact and caught a taxi-cab down to another hotel, where a friend of mine was staying.

I was there within minutes, and walked straight into the lobby, up another escalator and walked to the desired room. I knocked on the door lightly and laid my head against the door frame as I waited. I heard foot steps and the door opened, a sleepy Stephen Smith stood in front of me, partially shocked to see me in front of him.

‘Ready to unleash the beast, bad boy?’ I said, walking in, not waiting for an answer.

Needless to say… I still ended my night (and Stephen’s!) on a satisfied note. 

I met Sara Hansen for the first time, a couple of years ago. I was a bright-eyed bushy tailed, young girl with a full life ahead of her. I was young and naïve, I was desperate to make friends and learn the ways of the crazy music business.

That was then.

Whilst on my current tour, I had the opportunity to get to know Sara again. Connect and hang out with her. Share our secrets and become pretty close friends. It probably helped that she and I had the same thought process on a lot of things and she was not in the least upset that I shagged her husband, Ed Keane, in a drunken night of passion.

One day, she and I headed to the gym on a regular daily workouts, everyday was the same – bike, treadmill, a bit of weights and then some time in the sauna. Nothing beats a great workout, followed by getting hot, sweaty and relaxing in steam.

Whilst working out, I began to notice Sara in a bit more detail. How when she talks, she used a lot of hand gestures and I thought that was really cute. When she bent over, her arse was firm and I could see the outline of her thong. Her brown hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, but still strands hung over her face, and it was as if it didn’t phase her one bit, even though I know that if it were me, I would be desperate to blow them away.

Sara and I giggled and carried on, chatting about the boys and my recent escapades. She had heard about my encounter with Dean and thought it was hilarious about how upfront I had become, when originally I was so shy and meek. What had hanging with the Dog boys done to me!

After doing a little bit of weights, she and I moved to the sauna area, which was deserted. When there was just the two of us, alone, what possibly could we get up too?

It started all so innocently at first, whilst sitting naked in the sauna area, it was as if our bodies had a mind of their own. Her hand grazed mine, and there was a jolt of electricity. Our eyes met and I knew she felt it too. I slid across the bench and moved closer to her, she reciprocated moving close as well. I took her face in my hands and kissed her softly. Gently at first, she responded with a soft moan and our kisses got hungry, wanting. Now I had a taste, I wanted more.

‘Maybe we should go back to your place?’ I said huskily.

‘Yes ... we should’ she replied.

We got our things together quickly, leaving the gym for the first time without showering and got straight into the car and back to the five star hotel room. It was like not touching each other was driving us crazy, it was build up of the weeks we had spent together, growing attraction that had never been acted upon. The moment, Sara opened the door, we fell into each others arms, making out like crazy and kicking the door shut.

Our love making moved quickly but sexily, clothes flew around the room and bed linen was strewn across the floor.

After we were done, we laid naked under the sheets, out of breath and with visibly swollen lips from kissing so hard and much. We heard the click of the door, Sara and I both shot up in the bed as the door flew open and their stood Ed. Ed Keane. Her husband and my one night stand.

‘What the…’ He said clearly stunned by the sight of two naked women under a sheet in his hotel room.

I looked over at Sara, coyly. She nodded slightly and I nodded back, we talked with our eyes giving permission as if we knew what we both wanted and both wanted to say.

‘Ed… why don’t you join us?’ Sara said.

More sets of clothes went flying around the room and I have never seen someone jump in a king size bed so fast.

After a tireless afternoon, we fell asleep exhausted. I awoke sometime later, gathered my things quietly and left. Even though I had developed this nasty habit for leaving without saying good-bye, I scribble a quick note on the back of a receipt and left it on the nightstand.

‘Had a lot of fun guys, see ya later Beth xxx’

Fun? I don’t think that even covers what an afternoon I had with Sara Hansen… AND Sara Hansen and Ed Keane.

By this stage, I think we have gotten acquainted with the fact that I love to shag and I love to pash – well anyone. Currently I am on tour and I am touring with the ‘Snog the Dog’ boys. I am sure you can imagine we get up to all sorts of hi-jinks.

I came up with a truly wicked idea before leaving Bucharest for Belgrade; I had my eye on the very sexy, Dean Goldsmith. He was much loved by the paparazzi and was constantly chased. I am sure he didn’t mind this chasing concept as he was always been flooded by numerous amounts of women and being asked to sign boobs.  He always looked so laid-back with his sunglasses and singlet-top that showed off his very hot tattoos.

I knew the boys were at their gig, and it would be the best time to get all dressed up in my infamous school uniform. A short tartan skirt, a white low-cut collared shirt with a black tie and a black knee high shiny leather boots, the boots were a killer to walk in – but they looked so hot when I was sitting. I climbed up onto the Snog the Dog bus, crept past the driver, who was eating donuts, and watching television and snuck through to Dean’s cubicle on the bus. 

A bed, along with a rack of clothes occupied the limited space, and thin wall separated the area off along with a sheet acting as a door. It was good space, and something I could work with. I checked my watch – the boys would be finishing up shortly and heading back to their bus. I checked myself over in the mirror and fixed up my hair, made sure the pigtails were perfect and that my bra was showing the right amount of cleavage.

Loud voices and laughing, got my attention, the bus rocked slightly as people hopped on board. I heard the familiar voice of Stephen Smith and Dean, himself chatting excitedly away about the crowd and the show.

‘Just a minute, I am going to get changed…’ Dean said, as he stepped through the curtain.

I perched on the bed, with my leg crossed and posed seductively.

‘What the…’ he said, shocked at the display before him.

Sure, we hadn’t spoken much except for the odd pleasantries and the look shared between us now and then. But the electricity and tension between us was undeniable. It was there and I was going to capitalize on it.

‘I thought we could get to know each other.’ I found myself saying.

Dean’s jaw slightly dropped, I am not sure if he was shocked about my forwardness or whether someone had surprised him on his bus before, either way, I was going to make sure he had a night to remember. I stood up and strode over to where Dean was planted in the ground. I clasped his face within my hands and gave him a tender kiss. As I was pulling away, he grabbed my face with his hands and reciprocated the kiss. This time, harder and longer, I’d never kissed someone like him before, tender and sweet. He had a way of making your knees weak with his tongue – and it was hot.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, still kissing me. We kissed for hours, undressing each other slowly whilst doing so. He kissed down my face and neck, growling into my ear. I am sure he knew I was about to let out a shriek of laughter because he clamped his hand over my mouth and put his finger to his lips and gestured to outside the room. I nodded my understanding.

We continued to kiss and undress, I was in absolute heaven with his kisses, his tongue just knew the right way to dance around my mouth without being sleazy. It was no wonder that Dean was a ladies man – he just knew the way to please a woman.

As these things do, one thing led to another and we lay in bed, under a white sheet, in each other’s arms as the bus pulled up to the destination of Belgrade.

‘Yo Dean… we are here’ said a familiar voice, belonging to Luke Hall, rapping his knuckles on the wall outside of the room.

I threw the sheet over my head, as Dean replied –

‘Yeah I am going to hang for awhile…’

I could hear Luke pull the sheet door to one side and give a slight snigger.

‘Oh. OH! Sure thing mate!’

Dean pulled the sheet down and exposed my face.

‘I think they are hopping off the bus…’ he whispered in my ear. He gave me another kiss, lingering and wanting. It was still early on in the night, so there was no need to stop our fun; I reciprocated each one of his kisses, proving that I could keep up with the best of them. 

We continued well into the night and into the early hours of the morning.

I awoke the next morning, in Dean’s arms. It was still early – sleepily, I looked up at Dean and he stroked my cheek and gave me a good morning kiss.

‘We should do this again sometime…’ he said as I started to get dressed and he watched me from the bed.

Oh yes. Yes we should. I am sure Dean and I will meet up again in a future column…

It had been a while since I had a run in with Luke Hall. The only way to describe my relationship with Luke is love/hate to say the least. We had differing opinions, and rarely were in the same room together. Having a booty call relationship with one of his band mates, gave me the opportunity to see Luke perform – it gave me chills to say the least.

We were fellow Melbournians, so his accent didn’t drive me wild, but looking around the room, it definitely gave his fan base something to scream about. Again, another night out with the girls (I am sure one day, one of you will wonder when on earth I actually get any parenting done, but anyway), Lola and I were dancing up a storm with drinks in hand. Then I looked up – Luke looked at me and the look of recognition was behind his eyes. He remembered me. I remembered him. Last time we encountered, we had a massive argument about something as little as the penalty for a debtor whilst working as a Chief of Police in Melbourne. He gave a slight smile and shook his head. He continued to strum the riff on his guitar. His hand flying up and down the fret board as if he was doing something as simple like doing up buttons of a shirt.

Anger rose up within me. Who did Luke Hall think he was? Giving me a slight smile! No one gives Beth Christou attitude! Lola managed to score us backstage passes (working within the club scene is certain to give you an some great perks), after the band had played there set, we headed to where the after party would be held. We continued to dance our way, whilst the band mingled.

‘Fancy seeing you in a place like this’; Luke said finally cornering me whilst I was getting another drink from the bar.

I had been trying to avoid him all night, in hopes that we wouldn’t have a confrontation and I wouldn’t make a complete mess of myself in my drunken state.

‘Yeah, well I like to kick my heels up once and a while’

‘Given up on the politics, have we?’ He said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

I blushed a little bit, and slapped my money down on to the bar.

‘In Melbourne at least…’

He guided my arm to a corner of the room and we began to have a more in-depth conversation. He came across as so intelligent and articulate in all the city meetings and now here he was, in front of me. He, use to infuriate me so much and now here I was getting lost in his eyes and his countless stories.

Drink after drink, I was intoxicated. It was an alcohol-fuelled intoxication meets an oh-my-god-he-has-the-nicest-eyes intoxication. Outside of the club, up against the wall, that’s where we were, Luke and I making out, our tongues becoming one.

Next thing I remember, I am in my hotel room, it’s the early hours of the morning and I am naked under a sheet. Luke is beside me, eyes closed with a slight snore.

What have I done! What did we do!

In my drunken haze, I slid out of bed and gathered my clothes off the floor (and bra off the lamp shade – how did it get there?). I got dressed in the darkness, slightly mortified that I had lowered myself to the drink. My head hurt, and I was wondering how I got the carpet burn on my back.

 I left a small note beside the bed, written by the light of my mobile phone.

‘Thanks for a great night. Speak again soon – Bee’

I never did hear from Luke Hall – I mean, we do see each other every so often, but only share pleasantries and how is it goins’. I think we were both a bit embarrassed about how forward we both behaved.

I will say this… that Luke Hall – he can really kiss a girl. 

I was a good girl.

I am a mother. I have a beautiful son and a gorgeous daughter.

One night out with the girls, I was captivated by this band at the club, that was playing, ‘Snog the Dog’, they had a massive following and girls were throwing their panties up at the stage. I hung back, shy, sipping my cocktail and watched as one of the lead singers, crooned the tune; ‘Five Knuckle Shuffle’ and thrust his hips front ways, side ways and whatever other way that drove the girls crazy.

Our eyes met, he gave me a wink and I felt the redness spread over my cheeks and to my ears. The blushing was my downfall and unable to look away, I was hooked. With keen interest, I continued to watch as the band sang and finished off their set. The catchy tunes and riffs were gearing for the girls and I to have a bit of a dance and to continue ordering up cocktails up a storm. As the bouncer started to kick the girls out of the club, I was relieved that my night didn’t have to end, as one of my girlfriends, Lola, was a manager of the club. Cheap drinks and an opportunity to meet up with one of the most talented bands we had all heard in a long time.

Seated at a booth, the boys started to filter out. They took a seat opposite, and the conversation flowed after Lola introduced us all. The crooner’s name was Stevo, and he was dead-set charming. After more drinks, Stevo and I ventured off to a corner to be alone, his arm guiding the base of my back. The intensity behind his eyes was just a bit too much for me, it made me weak, and I understood his power on stage and why the girls found him commanding.

The next thing I know, our lips met. We were making out and it was really hot, I am not entirely sure how it happened, was it the alcohol? I wasn’t drunk, I was fully aware of my actions and what I was doing, but it was entirely out of my character! I was the girl that was safe. That knew what she was doing at all times – and now, this stranger, this man I just met, made me lose all my inhibitions and want to go home with him.

What was wrong with me?

Of course, one thing led to another. I went back to his hotel room. We had a revolutionary time and enjoyed each other’s company.

He brought me breakfast in bed in the morning and we shared a tender kiss before he left for his tour bus for his next destination.

I use to be a good girl.