Tabloid Tales:
Spice Up Your Life
Please note -- any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely deliberate but purely fiction.
It was a Friday night on a warm summer's evening in Wapping, East London. Tabloid journalist Tom Walters was sitting at a corner table in the Wheat Sheaf pub waiting for his colleague, Mike Langston, to bring him another pint of cool beer. He mused, wryly, at this modern pub's traditional name, doubting whether anyone from around these parts, would recognise a wheat sheaf if one fell on their head. For that matter, he doubted whether he would have either!
"Are we on our own tonight then Tom," Mike said to the short and podgy forty-five year old man.
"It looks like it, maybe it's just too hot tonight and the others couldn't be bothered," said Tom sipping at his pint.
"Or maybe they're all on the trail of a hot lead that we're missing out on," rejoined Mike.
"Do you care?" Tom asked pointedly.
"Nah!" Mike replied.
"Then neither do I, so let's drink up and forget them," Tom said as he raised his glass to their absence.
It had become a tradition, ever since the majority of the UK's press had moved out of London's Fleet Street and down to the new high-tech area in London's Docklands, for a core group of tabloid hacks to meet up on a Friday night. Over a protracted drinking session they would wind down and swap stories that they hadn't been allowed to print, usually because - even for the down market tabloids - nobody would really believe them. They all swore, though, that they were absolutely true.
The hard core group usually consisted of anything up to a dozen journalists but tonight there was only these two.
"Well, do you want me to start then?" Mike asked as Tom drained his beer and put his glass back on the table decisively.
Tom rose to get another round of drinks and left Mike in silence.
He returned with two more beers and sat down, passing Mike a fresh pint.
"You can go first if you like but I've got a great tale for you today, it's all about the Spice Girls," he said smugly and sat back in his chair.
Mike burst out laughing, "Spice Girls, is that all you can offer. Awww .. come on, there can't be anything left you can possibly tell me about the Spice Girls that would shock me. Their whole career is one great mystery anyway! How can so little talent make so much money and so many headlines - it sure beats me! I think you had better go first, I'm confident I can beat you."
Tom smiled and took another drink, he too was confident.
"I was waiting in Stanstead Airport last week, the England football team were due to return home from the European Championship tie in Belgrade and it was 2:30am. There were only a few die-hard fans there and, for once, there was no scandal following them."
He took another sip and then Tom got back to the story.
"I was dying of thirst and the only place I was likely to get a drink, at that time of the morning, was from the VIP lounge. I didn't think that anyone would notice if I slipped in there, it's not likely that anyone important would be waiting there at that time, and managed to grab a complimentary coffee and a croissant."
"Coffee .. Croissant, you passed up the chance of a free drink - you must be slipping mate," Mike laughed in disbelief.
"Anyway, if I can continue," Tom said with impatience. "I noticed this girl sitting on her own wearing dark glasses and burying her head behind a paper. She was sitting on one of those airport seats wearing a really short skirt and had her knees pulled up to her body, it was like she was comforting herself.
This intrigued me and I sidled over alongside her to get a better look. She removed her sunglasses for a moment and looked all-coy as she saw me moving towards her. As soon as she had removed her sunglasses I knew who she was. I thought I'd struck lucky when I saw it was Vicky Adams - you know, the daft looking one they call 'Posh Spice'."
Well that's hardly a big scoop is it! Everyone knows that she's engaged to David Beckham (top mid-field footballer and 'pin-up' for Manchester United and England for the non-UK readers)," Mike said in derision.
"Hear me out, hear me out! Tom said defensively.
"Can you remember how she used to be this time last year!" he said quizzically. "You know, all moody looking and thinking that if you scowled long and hard enough that it was sexy."
"Yeah, what a joke - stupid cow," Mike laughed.
"And do you remember that big dip in form Beckham had during mid-season!" and, taking Mike's nod of the head as confirmation continued.
"Well she's not like that anymore. Haven't you noticed she's all smiles - why she almost seems like a new person!"
Mike nodded again so Tom continued.
"She had obviously been drinking and looked a little the worse for it. I sat down next to her and started chatting, you know - just casual like, asking how she'd been and the usual small talk. Well I hit pay-dirt. She seemed to want to talk and she didn't realise I was a reporter."
Tom took a long, deep swallow from the glass and held the empty vessel out to Mike, "come on then, your turn."
Mike returned with another two beers and Tom continued.
"It almost seemed like she wasn't used to drinking and threw all caution to the wind as she talked to me. She obviously needed a shoulder to cry on and mine was there! What transpired happened was beyond my wildest dreams and went something like this."
* * * * * * *
"Excuse me Miss, I couldn't help noticing that you seem to be a little upset - are you feeling all right?"
"I .. I'm Okay I guess. It's ju .. it's just my boyfriend. He's due to arrive any minute now and I've got a bit of a shock for him," she said as she removed her glasses for a moment and dabbed her eyes dry with a tissue.
"Well why are you so nervous. If you didn't love him then you wouldn't be so upset - is it that he doesn't love you?" I said trying to console her a little.
"Oh no, it's nothing like that! He loves me all right, in fact in so many ways now, we couldn't be closer," she replied as she put her glasses back on.
"Then why the upset?" I asked her casually.
She leant across and placed one hand on my knee - she was obviously desperate to confide in somebody.
"Can I trust you to be discreet?" she asked, hesitating a little.
"Miss, I'm the soul of discretion," I answered with my fingers crossed behind my back. This was looking promising and I reached inside by jacket pocket to turn on the voice activated cassette recorder that I always kept with me.
"Well I don't suppose it matters anyway, nobody is likely to believe what I've got to say but I've got to tell someone - I've got to unburden myself and a stranger seems the best bet."
"Feel free, I'm all ears," I replied settling back into the seat and hoping the flight didn't land to soon - I didn't want this intriguing conversation interrupted.
* * * * * * *
"Look, I know I shouldn't be telling you all this but not everything is quite what it seems. Vicky filled me in on most of these details but it's hard to tell what is, and what is not, my own memory nowadays!"
It all started when Vicky, uh I mean me I suppose, and the girls were getting ready for our first live show in Istanbul last October. All the girls were nervous, they - I mean we - had been criticised for not playing live and the rumours were they weren't able to even sing without studio assistance," she said with a confused expression on her face.
I can tell you, it was strange and a little spooky! She kept referring to herself in the third person and then stopped, like she seemed to be reminding herself who she really was. I don't know what I expected, but the, almost, schizophrenic behaviour this pretty girl was exhibiting set all my journalistic instincts buzzing. I tried not to look too predatory as I, subtly, urged her to carry on.
"I think it was Mel, you know Sporty, who suggested the girls should try and wind down a little and have a little group therapy. When she means therapy she means shopping! They were told about an old bazaar in the 'old town' where they could pick up some curios and antiques."
I still couldn't figure this out - she kept talking about the 'girls' and referring to the Spice Girls as 'they'. I just couldn't see where this was going to lead!
"They all decided to split up, Vicky went with Emma to look for jewellery and things and Geri and the two Mel's went looking some rugs and bits for their homes - they'd only just moved and wanted something different."
"It was a good job they had enough bodyguards to go around, God knows what might have happened to them in the dark alleys they ended up in otherwise. I hear the white slave trade still exists!"
She paused for a minute and lit a cigarette, as if to steady her nerves. I glanced up at the announcement's board and noticed the flight had been delayed by thirty minutes. I was a relieved man, I couldn't wait to get to the bottom of this.
I watched her as she inhaled deeply and gave a small cough. She continued.
"Emma was as excited as a little girl as she picked up earrings, bangles, bracelets and anything else that caught her eye. Vicky couldn't quite whip up the same enthusiasm, it all looked a lot of old tat to her, still - she always thought she was of a better class than the others anyway. She was about to urge Emma to leave when she saw a little shop hidden away behind some stalls. Vicky couldn't see what was in it but decided to go and have a look.
Well, she went in and browsed around, smelling some of the perfumes and oils. She suddenly noticed an old lady who was smiling and beckoning her to come closer. Her English was very stilted and it was very hard to understand anything but the most basic of words. Vicky picked a jar of oil and paid her for it, not wanting to upset her, when she bade her to pause. The old lady went into the back and gave her a blue glassed vial and rubbed Vicky's tummy with her old, and wrinkled, hand - she seemed to be giving it as a gift!"
She paused again as if trying to search her memories. I noticed that she had almost stopped talking about herself in anything other than the third person now and didn't seem to care!
"She gave her a document to go with it and they left quickly, feeling a little awkward with the old lady's attention. They had a final rehearsal later that afternoon and wanted to freshen up a little to get themselves in the mood. It was later, when Emma and I had changed to go back to the hotel, that I had the document translated by a local stage-hand. God, I blushed as he read it out. It was a 'love' potion designed to 'spice' up a flagging love life and, a literal translation here, make a 'new man' out of your lover!"
Fascinating - she was talking in the first person now!
It was at that point that an announcement came over the speaker system. It was telling us that due to an Air Traffic Control problem the flight was being diverted to Gatwick airport and would arrive there in an hour and forty minutes time.
She started to go all emotional again and looked on the verge of breaking down.
"I .. I've go to get there, I've got to see him," she sobbed.
Well, up until this point I was prepared to write this off as a bad deal and call it quits. That was until she held my arm and begged me.
"Please, how long will it take to get there," she said quietly.
"About ninety minutes I guess, the roads will be quiet now," I answered.
"Please, will you drive me there - I've got to see him - it's important" she said clutching my arm strongly.
Well, I'm a sucker for a pretty girl despite my hard-bitten exterior and, besides, this whole story just kept getting better and better. I had to see how it ended so I went with her.
* * * * * * *
She was sitting in the car as we set out towards the M25 motorway towards the Dartford Crossing. She still looked the worse for wear and very vulnerable and she was looking at me as if weighing up something important.
She seemed to come to a decision and then returned to her tale.
"The gig went great and I helped Vicky celebrate whilst trying to keep away from the journalists."
It seemed the memory of the gig, along with the partying afterwards changed her mood and she started to lighten up. She went on, and on about how the 'Girls' weren't taken seriously, how they wrote there own material and did I like that number she had on when they played at Wembley. I was looking around for the nearest exit, ready to give this one up as a bad deal, when her mood seemed to change again.
It seemed to coincide with when she mentioned Wembley and her eyes, she had removed her sunglasses again, started to mist over and fill with tears. Being a keen journalist I picked up on that mood-swing and the connection with Wembley and wondered if she had been in a spat with her fiance David Beckham. God knows he had played there enough times for both Manchester United and England!
I sensed the link and the chance of an exclusive. Is that why she was here so late at night - was she trying to patch things up?
"Before I go on I am going to have to tell you something incredible, something you will never believe," she said.
Yeah try me! I thought. Let me through, I'm a journalist!
"I .. I'm not really Victoria Adams, I .. I'm really a man! I am really David Beckham."
Oh sure! I was really proud of myself, I didn't even bat an eyelid. She seemed a little taken aback by my response expecting some sort of reaction out of me and then, getting none, just kept on talking.
"One of the things about Vicky and I ..", at the mention of 'I' she paused again, sobbing slightly.
She tried again.
"The thing about us is - well that is - it's hard to know how to put this now! One of the best things about us was the great sex we had. There was this image we shared as a golden couple. The man was THE star footballer in England, the girl a hot pop star, the envy of millions of girls and lusted after by most men who still had any balls left," (return to sobbing).
"Despite all the media attention, the expectations, and the pressures our careers imposed on us, we were still happy together and couldn't keep our hands off of each other. We fucked like rabbits every chance we had!"
"It was in March of this year though, that things, in the sexual department, started to suffer. There were rumours of a split in the Spice Girls camp and my team, Manchester United, had slipped from the top of the table with a lot of the blame coming down on me. The pressure started to get to us, and I couldn't maintain the sort of performance Vicky had come to expect."
Oh my God! Don't tell me all this upset is because Beckham can't keep it up! I can just see the headlines now :
"Posh struggles to Spice up United Star's Life," or
"England Ace Can't Score with Pop Tart."
The possibilities were endless. Still, I thought it might be worth a few bob though!.
She continued.
"It all came to a head one afternoon, we were in a hotel room and were both laying naked on the bed, and we couldn't quite get it all together. I now know that Vicky was worried that she wasn't turning me on in the same way any more and she was racking her brains for some ideas to get a little oomph back into our love lives. It was then that Vicky remembered the potion that the old lady gave her back in Instanbul, she had put it away in her bedside table and forgotten all about it. This could get it all back on track again, or so she thought!
It had been embarrassing at the time, but she remembered the translation she had been given and opened the bottle releasing a powerful aroma of orange and spices. She rubbed some of the potion into her hands and, kissing me once on the chest, started to massage it into my limp penis."
Wow, this was getting quite heavy now. I started to get a hard-on myself as the conversation was going to places I had never imagined! It certainly was bizarre hearing this lovely girl talker about 'her penis!
"Whether it was the oil, the massage, or a combination of both, I wasn't really sure. What I do know though, is that I started to rise to the occasion and had the biggest erection I'd ever experienced. She had one hand cupped around my balls and the other moving up and down my shaft with her long nails scratching the skin with a delicious and exquisite pain that I couldn't resist."
She continued, "It didn't take long for me to climb on top of her and mount her, and I could feel my cock sliding into her like a hot knife through butter. She was moaning and screaming and I don't think I had ever been so aroused in my life. Whatever was in that potion was one set of powerful stuff - how powerful I was soon to find out."
It was at that point that her mobile phone went and I was left to consider what I had heard. It all seemed so far fetched that I thought she must have had some sort of breakdown and I thought it best that I just disregard everything I'd heard - hell, it was too personal! I'd take her to the airport and then head of home - who needed this crap! She finished her brief conversation and turned back to me.
"Where was I," she said, "Oh yeah - well after about ten minutes of this I couldn't hold out any longer and exploded into her with a climax that was almost painful with it's intensity. It was then that I had the most amazing sensation - it was almost as if I, that is my consciousness, was travelling along inside my body and then shot into her with a force that carried me along and up inside of her. I felt a brief moment of disorientation and then found myself staring in my own face with my legs spread wide apart and something buried inside of them!."
There seemed to be nothing I could say at this point and she carried on.
"It was a moment I will never forget and it will haunt me for the rest of my life, whatever - and whoever, it should turn out like! I started panicking and hyperventilating and felt my own body grab me by my shoulders. I tried to pull away but I didn't have the strength and was, finally, forced to listen to myself.
"David, is that you?" he said to me and I realised that Vicky must have entered my body as I had entered hers. I told her that it was, indeed, me but it was in a voice that, although I was used to it, sounded so different from where I was now.
She seemed so calm and able to handle everything that I let her take control of the situation. Usually I am so bullish about things, and am always being called a bit of a control freak, but I seemed quite happy to let her take over. In retrospect, it was the first sign that my feelings were starting to act more in character with this body.
It was then that she suggested we went and took a shower to see if we could clear our heads. It felt so weird to feel my soapy hands running over my smooth skin and I felt my nipples harden, and become hyper sensitive, as the powerful stream of water hit them. It was even stranger to see my own body in the shower alongside me. I couldn't help admiring the muscular legs and tight buttocks and I felt quite small alongside it! I felt an erotic shiver as I realised that this man's body would be able to take me and I would be helpless to stop it - why was I thinking that way?
After the shower we both sat in our bathrobes and wondered what to do. I had a match to play tomorrow and Vicky had rehearsals to prepare for her forthcoming world tour. She knew nothing about football and I knew nothing about music - some people might have commented on how that might be an asset right now but that would be cruel!
We tried to think about what might have caused this but, in our confused state, found it hard to concentrate. We needed something to help us to focus and thought that maybe, a change of scenery might help. It was still early and our nerves were on edge so we decided to go to a small nearby restaurant for a meal, hoping it might help us to relax."
She was talking non-stop now as we approached the intersection for the M23, about fifteen miles from Gatwick. Despite my scepticism I was intrigued - she seemed so genuine but her story was impossible, surely! She continued.
"Vicky told me I would have to get dressed and she, or he now, helped me to select something to wear. She didn't have too much with her, most of her clothes had been packed away for a trip abroad in two days time, and only had two outfits here with her. I was silent as she helped me slip into one of her bras. I could well remember that her, or rather 'my' now, breasts were not that large, but they felt huge when you were wearing them and I lifted the straps as they settled into the cups.
The satin panties felt so different from my usual boxers as I pulled them up into my groin. They seemed to hug my new pussy tightly and I felt a warm feeling as they reminded me of what I now had down there.
I nearly died as Vicky held up a little black sleeveless dress for me to put on. "I'm not wearing that," I cried but she told me there was nothing else apart from the equally minuscule micro skirt that she had arrived in, so I quickly put it on and completed the outfit with some black sandals. I found it a little humiliating as I remembered when Vicky wore this dress last week and I had stolen a peek up it as she walked up some stairs. I had found it so sexy as I caught a glimpse of her panties and I blushed as I realised how easy it would be for her to do the same to me now if she wanted to!
Next came the make-up and, although I protested, she insisted I couldn't go outside without it. She had a reputation to maintain and couldn't afford to be seen in public without it. Of course, she had to help me put it on and I felt impatient and irritable as she applied shadow and mascara to my eyes and finished it off with some lip-gloss.
She took me to the mirror, and with my dried and brushed hair, I looked the image of Vicky. Well I would wouldn't I, after all, I was her now!
I can remember feeling so envious as I saw her throw on a white shirt, pull up a pair of jeans, and run a comb though her hair, just as I had only this morning. My old body still looked just great. How do women cope with all this primping and preening all the time? Maybe I would just have to find out!
Vicky seemed so confident as she told me to try walking in the high heeled sandals and I surprised myself by how easy I had adapted to them, and all this after only two or three minutes.
I took a deep breath as she opened the hotel door and we stepped out into the hotel corridor. Vicky suggested taking the rear hotel exit, as there was less likelihood of our being spotted that way, and I meekly followed her lead. She seemed so sure of what she was doing that it just seemed the natural thing to do, and I didn't even think of questioning her. It was strange, but I was finding it hard to think straight and I felt so flustered, and so vulnerable, in this flimsy excuse for a dress.
She told me to smile in case anyone happened to see us, after all - we were supposed to be the happy couple - and we exited through the door with her holding tightly onto my hand. We walked into the car park and towards, what had been, my beloved sports car. I felt a pang of longing as I realised that Vicky would be driving this car now!
Even the act of walking was a whole new experience for me. To feel the light summer breeze finding it's way beneath my dress and the emptiness, and the aching void, I felt where I had been used to feeling my cock and balls was very unnerving!
I felt ridiculous as Vicky opened the passenger door for me, and I tried to swing my legs into the low seat gracefully but gave anyone who was lucky enough to be watching, a free show.
Vicky drove us to the restaurant and we were shown to a table immediately, fame has many privileges. We ate our meal and speculated on what might have caused this situation. It seemed much easier to talk in this environment and we could only think it was that oil, or potion stuff, that Vicky had spread on me. Our souls had transferred immediately after we had climaxed and that had been the only thing we had used that was any different from usual.
We rushed back to the hotel and spent an anxious two minutes that had seemed like far longer. We waited for the lift and then, nearly ran into our bedroom. Vicky reached the bottle first and read the label closely. Turning it upside down she read a legend that she couldn't understand. She had to refer back to the translation that the Turkish helper had given her to make sense of it, and finally, she read the translation out aloud. "Once opened - use within three hours to reverse effect - failure to do so will render potion unusable and guarantee invalid."
We were in a total panic as we looked at the digital clock on the television and saw that it had been over four hours now since Vicky had opened it. I cried inconsolably and said "We're stuck, we're stuck like this forever." Vicky came and held me tightly to her strong chest as she comforted me and we lay down with me in her arms. I must have fallen asleep and I awoke on my own the next morning wearing just my bra and panties. I hoped that this was all just a bad dream - it wasn't though."
She went silent on me for a second, as we approached the motorway exit and turned on the slip road that would take us to the airport. I followed the signs towards the North Terminal as she continued her story.
"I didn't know what to do that morning but Vicky returned to the hotel room and said we just had to carry on with each others lives until we could think of a way to get back to ourselves again. She suggested she should return to Istanbul and find the shop again, but that wouldn't be possible for a week or so. I found the idea horrific. She couldn't expect me to pretend to be her for a whole week! I then remembered that this might just be a life sentence and maybe I had better try after all - did I have a choice?
Vicky had been out for an early morning run and was hot and sweaty. I somehow found her masculine aroma attractive as she told me how she had enjoyed putting my super fit body through it's paces, and how she it might be very interesting to spend some time in it. She went to take a shower and left me to think over what she had suggested.
I was still a little shocked to tell the truth. How could she think I could possibly prance around on stage making girly gestures and wearing short skirts and dresses? Hell, I didn't know any of the songs, the moves, or anything. I'd only ever gone along to see them so I could ogle the girls and now wished I'd paid a little more attention! I also felt an aching loss as I thought about how this petite body would never be able to play football again, my first real love - I had to get back!
Well, the upshot of it all was that we had to do as Vicky suggested after all. It might be hard to pass as each other but we really didn't have a lot of choice - we both had highly successful careers and didn't want to destroy them, either for ourselves or for each other. We had, at least, to try!
We checked out of the hotel and Vicky leant across to give me a kiss goodbye as we separated, to head for our cars. I found myself responding and, without thinking, moved into my old body as Vicky squeezed my bottom and wished me luck.
Driving, dressed like this, was yet another new experience. I felt so exposed, almost naked, as my short skirt rode up my thighs and I attracted quite a few lascivious leers from truck drivers as I drove the forty miles to the rehearsal.
I have to admit that I felt more than a little nervous as I met the other girls and tried to join in with the gossip and the female chatter that I'd never had such direct exposure to before. My eyes nearly shot out of my head as I saw Geri and Emma naked as they changed into their stage costumes. Geri was hoisting her generous boobs into a flimsy halter neck top and Emma was pulling up some spangly panties but, the strangest thing was, I felt no arousal whatsoever. After all, they had nothing that I didn't now possess myself!
I decided to try and let my mind go blank as the music started, and I found my body started to move along with the others. It was almost like muscle memory as Vicky's well-trained body was so into this routine that it could almost do it itself! The same thing happened with the music as I found the lines just enjoying springing into my head. It was far easier than I thought and I started myself, feeling this light and limber body stretching, and responding, in ways I could never have done before.
The rehearsal was taped and, as we reviewed it, I was surprised to discover that I hadn't looked out of place at all. I knew that however long I had to do this I could manage as Vicky now!"
* * * * * * *
By this time we had reached the airport and I parked the car in the short-term car park. I helped Victoria out of the car and we walked to the arrival area. I wondered if this was all I was going to get from her as she went silent for a few moments. It was such an incredible story that I wondered whether anybody would even bother to make this up unless there was an element of truth in it. She certainly seemed sincere and obviously believed what she was saying!
She peered up towards the arrival's board and we saw that the plane was due to arrive in ten minutes.
I decided to prompt her a little, to see if I could get anything else out of her - there was no way I could use this story as it stood now.
"Er, Victoria!" I said, gaining her attention. "How did Vicky cope with being the most famous footballer in the UK - I mean, he's still scoring goals and making the headlines - it must have gone pretty well for her!"
The mention of football perked her up again.
"Well Vicky told me that she found it hard at first. Sure, she could run fast enough but she found the pace of the game surprisingly fast. She also found it hard to come to terms with the physical side of the game - the crunching tackles, the body checks. She had never had any experience of direct physical contact, growing up a girl, and it took her a while to adapt.
Adapt she did though, after being dropped from the England team, and struggling to make any difference within the Manchester United team, she started to let herself go with the aggression that she now felt surging through her body. She fought her way back into the national side during the World Cup finals and was a key success until that stupid sending off incident."
Christ, she was right! I thought back to David Beckham kicking out at that Argentinian and I can remember everyone, even you Mike, commenting that he acted just like a big girl. It had seemed so out of character for him!
Her thoughts went back to the Spring and she carried on.
"We spent a week away from each other and I was so pleased when we got back together again. Dave, as I had started to think of Vicky now, laughed madly as he told me of the how he coped with his first team bath following his first training session. All those athletic and naked men, he just stood there staring and sporting a hard-on until he realised that he was drawing attention to himself and just joined them in the bath. Just like my own experience though, his initial arousal soon faded as he felt just like another one of the men.
Our re-union made us both feel highly charged as we looked at our bodies from a new perspective. We had both had a week in our new bodies and we were both feeling comfortable with them. It felt quite normal for me now, displaying the girlish mannerisms that now seemed to come naturally to me and I felt a warm arousal in my groin at the sight of David removing his shirt. I felt so female as I started to remove my own clothes and it didn't take long before we ended up in bed and I felt the delicious felling of total surrender as I lay on my back and spread my legs for him.
As he entered me I felt as if I had been possessed, and the feeling of being filled by the man you love, was very, very special and something I couldn't ever imagine giving up now. I felt a little different about this, of course, as the afterglow faded and I came to my senses again, but I couldn't deny the feelings he had brought out of me, nor the fact that I was also happy and fulfilled.
That weekend David had a three-day break before the next game, and he flew to Instanbul to see if he could find the shop where he had got the oil from, when he had been Vicky. He returned empty handed, there was no trace of the shop he told me. It seemed as though we were stuck this way but somehow, it didn't seem so matter as much as it had before as I rubbed his crotch and pulled him into bed."
I glanced up at the arrival's board and saw the flight had landed. I only had time for one more question and asked her quickly, as she stood up.
"Victoria, what was the real reason Geri left the Spice Girls."
She looked across at me and stared straight into my eyes, her eyes suddenly cold and hard.
"That bitch! I found her and David in bed together one night, and there was no way that I could stay in the group with her after that - it either her or me! Well we girls had always been close, and Emma had also had a crush on her so felt betrayed. We also, all felt that she had been a bit of a tart anyway, so she had to go.
I gave David hell over that but forgave him. After all, we all know men think with their balls most of the time and I decided I would make myself as sexy and attractive as possible - to be the best girl I could for him - so he wouldn't want to stray again."
"But Victoria, if you've adapted so well why the tears, what's the shocking news?" I said puzzled.
She saw David walking through the arrival's gate and stood on her tiptoes, waving furiously as he smiled back at her.
"Oh, that. Well I feel much better about it now that I've spoken to someone - gosh, just look at him, he's so gorgeous. I just feel a little nervous about how he'll react when he finds out he's going to be a father!" and with that she ran over to him.
It made my hard and cynical heart warm a little as I watched this young and attractive couple embrace and walk hand in hand, out of the airport.
* * * * * * *
Mike picked up his glass and finished another pint. He looked Tom straight in the eyes.
"I know it was you who leaked the news about Posh Spice being pregnant - are you seriously asking me to believe that this is how you got the story and that Posh Spice is really David Beckham!"
"I'm not really asking you to believe anything," Tom said. "This is exactly what she told me and I have still got the tapes for the first part of the story. I had been so involved in her story that I forget to change the tape and lost the rest of our conversation," Tom said as he offered his glass for Mike to get a re-fill.
"Personally" he continued, "it explains away a lot to me as I think that the whole Spice Girls phenomena is one big unlikely tale anyway!"
He took the fresh glass of beer from Mike and sipped it thoughtfully.
"So anyway Mike," he said, "top that if you can."
The End