The OWLS Club Pt. 02
The OWLS Club
The story is about a group of people, an actual place, and a dream. While having a none too subtle dig at society in general. This is a work of pure fiction. None of the characters are real people, nor do they represent real people. It is a slow burn, a lot of romance and some gratuitous sex for those who need to get off on it. It is based in Australia so I have used local language. There is some Italian and French conversations, so if you want to really become attached to the characters I strongly recommend you use a google translator. It will help with the flow of the conversations. As I use the Queen’s English, I will apologise in advance to my American friends for the correct spelling of some words.
Some of the place names are correct.
There is no underage sex involved.
Part 2 – The Garden of Unearthly Delights.
The Korked Wine bar is not a gay or lesbian bar per se, but there is a small sign just above the front entrance, ‘Leave all of your prejudices here and collected them on your way out.’ And in the four corners of the main window, you will see a 4 rainbows. Ashley Taylor or Swifty as she was referred to, was the owner, bar keep and general all round good ‘guy’. Except she wasn’t a guy. She and her long term business partner, Ellie, who was her lover, the mother of their daughter and her wife, had been together for close to 30 years. She was also known as the chief cook and bottle washer and whenever anyone become too obnoxious or drank more than they were capable of handling, she acted as the door person and taxi cab hailer.
I can never remember Ellie having to actually throw someone out, maybe it was the wall plaques and the Olympic Gold Medal framed on the wall, plus the many photos of her with high profile performers. She in fact acted as a Personal Protection Officer for most international music acts and performers that toured Australia in her younger days. It was rumored that Mick Jagger won’t tour Alsancak travesti Australia unless she is available. A safe place for a group of more mature citizens to share a bottle of good Australian wine, or two or three bottles more likely. The fact these older women, were also gay, didn’t seem to bother anyone else there.
Seven O’clock on a Friday night we old girls gather for a friendly chat, a small group of us, have become a bit of an institution there. We don’t cause trouble, well not a lot of trouble, but we have been known to be told to behave, or was it ‘act your age’.
Korked is located in a L shaped building, with the little leg of the L becoming ‘ours’ and is also close to both the beer garden out the back and the conveniences.
Which means over the course of the evening we get to see nearly all of the female patrons, come and go. It isn’t uncommon for our group to grow from 5 or 6 to over a dozen by closing time. Many a cheeky girl have lost their panties to one of us. And to be taken into the garden, which we renamed the ‘Garden of Unearthly Delights’, it was said it was an experience that many remembered and returned only on a Friday night to relive their experience.
There the names were etched into the tables in the garden, and they were the women who claimed to be ‘straight’ but found out they were ‘spaghetti’ women.
That Friday night was no different. The same old girls turned up, some with a partner in tow. Normally a pretty younger lady, it seems we all had the similar tastes when it came to women. We liked them younger, pretty and well developed. Not all of us but most of us.
We were at the table and chatting away, when Erica arrived, on her own, I did the introductions. There was Caroline, with her exotic French accent, or was it Dutch, maybe she was from Belgium. Ann the policewoman by day and a keeper of the peace when with us, Judith and Jane, with Jenifer sitting at the head of Alsancak travestileri the table or was it the foot. We kept switching the name depending on who was sitting there.
We weren’t known as the OWLS then, no, that came later.
Erica nodded as I went around the table. I reminded everyone that she was my guest and to behave themselves. Which was cryptic for no taking her into the garden and relieving her of her panties. There was no way she would remember everyone’s name but at least she could hold a conversation with whomever she chooses. She could be herself. She sat next to me and I gave her a kiss one on each cheek, as friends would do and patted her arm. I excused myself to get her a glass and a bottle of Penfolds 2019 Kalimna Shiraz Bin 28. Not asking what she wanted to drink.
I poured her a rather large glass full of the beautiful red wine, a dark rich colour, full of flavour. She thank me, we raised glasses and took a sip. Then she thanked me again as her eyes lit up.
We chatted about this and that, as she watched the interaction of the group on our table. The music from Ben Ford Davies, was a mixture of old favourites and his own. As the night wore on our group became louder as we demolished bottle after bottle of wine and sang along to Ben. Erica watched as first Ann took a very attractive red head out into the garden and it was some forty minutes until they returned, both looking a little disheveled. She introduced her to everyone as Gina, a gymnast no less.
Then Caroline took a young woman, out there and not long came back with a smile and winked at me, which told me she had someone’s knickers in her hand. She quickly drank her glass of wine and disappeared outside for a second helping of her young friend.
Erica leaned over and whispered to me, “What have they been up to?” With a smile on her face.
“They have checked out our Garden of Unearthly Delights.” I told her.
And Travesti alsancak then went on and explained that Ann was married and this is her only night out to be herself. A lot of the women here are in the same boat. “They go out there and become better acquainted.”
While Caroline was a teacher at a High School on the Eastern side of the city.
Erica smiled and raised her eyebrows as she took another sip followed by a larger one.
“Oh and I thought it was just my Annie who didn’t want to get noticed.” She told me.
“No sweetheart, it is the way of the world at the moment. There are a lot of women who are still hiding in the closet.”
Close to midnight, Swifty, came around and asked us nicely to stop scaring her passing traffic off. We all laughed along with her. Told her collectively “No Way.”
Which for some reason was a cue for Ben to jump into the Angels Australian classic, ‘Am I ever going to see your face again’ to which our whole group got up and sang the unofficial chorus “No way get fucked, fuck off.” Ashley shook her head and told us we were all barred until tomorrow. And then joined in with us to sing the last chorus. “Am I ever going to see your face again, No way, get fucked, fuck off.”
At which point we got our official name. At the end of the song she stood there, hands on hips, and told us were a group of owls.
We all roared with laughter and asked collectively, “What are owls?”
She smiled at us and with a dead pan face told us. “A bird of prey, who only come out at night and preys on vulnerable other species.” And laughed.
By this time our little group had added a few more women to our table. Swifty came over to me and asked. “How do you fucking do it?”
“Do what.” I replied.
“Get these women together and then turn a perfectly respectable establishment into an old fashion dyke haven?” She said it like she was enjoying the bad reputation we were enjoying.
“It’s a gift.” I told her, we smiled and agreed, it was indeed a gift.
And that was the name we were given and remained with us, our little corner became known as the OWLS nest. It was only later that one of the girls in a more academic moment said it could also stand for what we were.
Oldies Who Love Sex.