Today was a beautiful sunny day.
A day where the riotous hangover I’d earned from a night on the Guinness in Murphy’s Bar would be cured by a stroll around the architectural loveliness of
Royal Leamington Spa.
The clocks went forward last night and the day was the warmest yet with hardly a cloud in sight. Lots of gorgeous females were out in skimpy shorts and tight t-shirts. Then on a less pervy level there were old couples out walking lively dogs, families with little kids (including one adorable little girl who had clearly only just learned to walk judging by the rounds of applause she got for tottering along the path next to the Pump Room gardens). A day of peace and tranquillity. A day to savour the joys of early Spring and to relax in the park with a book.
After a long walk around town (noticing how much nicer everything looks in bright sunlight) I made my way to Jephson gardens. Dozens of people were either sat or laying sprawled on the grass reading books, chatting or napping. I chose a pretty spot next to a vibrantly coloured flower bed and hopped over the tiny border fence. Choosing my spot carefully I gratefully sat down on the cool grass and took “Game of Thrones” from my backpack, decided to save my apple till later and settled down to Ned Stark reluctantly accepting the role of Hand of the King.
After a couple of minutes I looked up and the couple directly facing me were giggling in a subdued way and pointing in my direction. I glanced to my right and another couple were doing the same thing. Confused and a little paranoid due to my slowly ebbing hangover I turned around to see a woman laying on top of a bloke and kissing him passionately. While this in itself hardly seemed giggle worthy I then noticed she was grinding on him.
Ok, I thought. Not pleasant with everyone watching but no harm really done.
Then the moral event horizon was surpassed when she reached down between her legs amongst the folds of her long, billowing skirt (that they had thankfully used as a makeshift blanket) and fumbled around for a few seconds in what was blatantly a “penis into vagina” docking movement.
I reached for my phone to film this but found the battery had died. Oh well, there goes the YouTube fortune. I watched in disbelief as she enthusiastically bounced up and down on him, occasionally switching tempo or even grinding her hips around to get that “tickle the sides” thing going. All the time they were passionately kissing and the only thing that stopped this from being utterly vile was that her skirt was obstructing any view of their toilet parts.
I glanced to the side of them and there was an Indian family with two little girls who looked about 5 and 6 sitting just across from the al freso Chavs. They hadn’t even noticed and were chatting happily, oblivious to the open air copulation happening a few yards away.
I glanced back over my shoulder and saw the couples who’d first noticed it were looking disgusted but vaguely amused. One said sharply “there’s little kids over there for Chrissakes!”
I decided to let fate handle it as I was too hungover and not in the mood for confronting the dirty bastards who I imagined would indignantly shout “why don’t you mind your own fucking business!!!” if I did say anything.
As I stood up I noticed the two large, empty bottles of White Lightning cider next to their heaving bodies.
I move further down and settle back into my book, blotting out the nasty twats with George RR Martin’s rich fantasy where Arya throws a tantrum during needlework class.
About 20 minutes later a lone Bobby saunters down the path. I move towards him and after a shouted “excuse me!” ask him if he’s here about the shagging couple.
After a pause he replies “potentially.”
I point out the woman, her fuck buddy now no longer on scene and then the lad who phoned the police walks up. Giggling in disbelief he tells the cop what he saw and I confirm it. The lad then adds that the bloke went and took a piss in an ornamental flower display just after he’d shot his load up the dirty bitch. Both of us say we are willing to make statements. Then the cop’s partner shows up and they mooch over to talk to the blonde tramp.
Even from 100 yards away I can see from her body language that she’s denying everything and after a couple of minutes the cop talks to her while his mate takes her female friend to one side. They take out notebooks and write stuff down.
Then the first cop starts gesturing to the park entrance and the woman shakes her head. He gestures again and nods then points again more firmly. She petulantly grabs her handbag and her and her mate are led out. I just wish enough people had realised what had gone on to give them a round of applause.
I walk up to the other lad who called 999 and chat to him and his girlfriend. They introduce themselves as Phil and Awra.
“Your name’s Phil?” I ask. “Ironic considering what those two bastards were doing.”
I ask if they think the couple were definitely shagging. Awra winces and says “I was at a different angle to you. I saw a lot more than you did. YES they most certainly were!”
I ask him how he worded the conversation when he called 999 and if he phrased it as “a couple copulating in a public place”.
He laughs and says “no, just ‘can you send a cop or two. There’s two people shagging the park in front of a load of kids’.”
We shake hands and I give them this blog address and tell them to check it later on. I then move back to my space on the grass and “Game of Thrones” determined not to have my day spoiled.
I imagine the Chavette and her mate were queuing for cider in Kwik Save when they spotted the Chav. After a brief introduction such as “what’s your name innit? Shaznay? Cool, mine’s
. You comin’ to the park like?” They had mooched off to Wayne and got randy after imbuing too much White Lightning. She then rolls on top of him, grateful that she’d not worn her knickers and they began humping. Not caring a toss that families, old people, toddlers and simply normal, non Chavvy people could see them. Jephson Gardens