One of my shortest stays in my beloved North East of England came a few years back. Staying at a delightfully cheap Bed & Breakfast in one of the newer towns in County Durham run by the most gentle and wonderful couple of people as usual I had a mixed time back in the area. It was the first time I had opted for a stay outside of the city of Sunderland itself, which sure enough wasn’t to be the last time I did that.

The Bed & Breakfast was in the couple’s private house, a double house with half of it being used as their private quarters and the other half being the B&B with its separate entry. Breakfast was included but not being a morning person, usually writing throughout the nights and early hours, I rarely get up in time for what normal working people consider the most important meal of the day. Staying at the B&B was no different and I ended up skipping breakfast every day I stayed there and found somewhere else to get a bite to eat when I eventually got out of bed halfway through the mornings.

I didn’t see my host couple too often. They were very nice people, loving and kind as you would almost expect in the friendly North East, but our paths during the days rarely seemed to cross and in the evenings when they were in I didn’t really want to intrude on their privacy with the B&B being their private home, of course. So when the nights fell I either went exploring elsewhere or stayed in the room by the end of the hall once up the staircase sorting bits and pieces from the previous night of writing before a new night of work would begin. And house rules said I wasn’t allowed to have any guests in the room either so naturally, the few days the trip this time lasted, more often than not I was away in the evenings.

In my many, many visits to the North East of England and to County Durham in particularly I am yet to have a stay somewhere without getting my leg over one way or another at least once. It’s not that I go searching for possible new lovers as such; I wish I could say I had the pulling power to do so but sadly I don’t. I’m just a fairly regular Scandinavian guy, tall, blue eyed and in the days before I began to shave my head: blond, too. But like any Viking, modern day or not, I’m warm-blooded in ways that makes it somewhat difficult for me to turn down possible sex on the horizon. But then again, which warm-blooded man with respect for his own sex would say otherwise, eh.

Working during the nights and early hours of the mornings when I finally surfaced ‘round ten or eleven o’clock after a few hours of good kip I would begin my day at the Bed & Breakfast like I would back home or anywhere else for that matter, with a morning wank followed by a refreshing shower before getting clothed and begin the day in earnest nicely refreshed on several levels. None of the few days I spent in my beloved North East that brief moment in time back then were any different. And after a good morning cum and a shower I would leave the B&B and for a few hours go explore the town and its surroundings. And after an hour or so either find somewhere nice and quiet to get a bit of lunch, or breakfast if you like since it’s my first meal of the day, or go find something in a shop or supermarket to bring back to the B&B and enjoy a quiet lunch in bed watching the Midday news on the telly.

My first full day there was no different from any of the other few days that followed and after a good morning wank and a refreshing shower I went for a walk.

The surrounding streets to the Bed & Breakfast were filled with houses pretty much the same as that of my host family, somewhat large and with neatly kept front gardens. But venture just a few streets further on and you would find yourself bang in the middle of the town. And I’m sorry to say this but a new town like this, being established in the 1960s and onwards completely lack the history and charm I usually tend to go for when on the road. It wasn’t old enough for my liking. It didn’t have enough green areas to please me in the long run and the town centre had probably seen better days, too.

What used to be the main shopping area now merely resembled one with a third of the shops closed down; closed down shops in the middle of a place that should be buzzing with people and happy punters is utterly depressing. Walking around the place I often found myself wondering how anyone could actually live there but I know that sometimes you don’t get a choice in where you end up. And to this day I’m sure all the good spots at the place unfortunately missed me by a mile while I was there as nowhere could be that depressing a place to live every day by choice or not, surely.

On my very first morning out walking, exploring the near-by streets and surroundings, turning right when I left the B&B and walking down the quiet street I took a second turn to the right when I reached the end of the street. And a few yards further on I noticed what could only be the nearest pub to where I was staying. Very close by, nice one. It was not open for business yet so I walked on and came to a slightly broader street leading further into the town. Taking mental notes of everything and not wanting to find myself lost I then turned around and walked the same way back and soon found myself outside the B&B again. I paused for a few seconds and then decided to explore the left side of the street as well.

Walking down the other direction now I turned left a second time when the street came to an end again. This turned out to be another way into the town centre itself and on my way I noticed one of the typical red post boxes, the ones many a tourist including myself on my very first visit to the country many moons ago brought back home with me in form of a piggy box now placed on top of my fridge in my roof flat back home. And as I smiled happily knowing I didn’t have to go very far to post my letters and cards while there I walked on and soon found myself at a great, big roundabout. What caught my eyes first wasn’t the bus stop on one side of the busy street but a gigantic Tesco’s supermarket on the other side. At the time I’d not been to one yet, the closest I had been was watching their adverts on the telly so naturally my curiosity took me across the busy main road leading into and away from the town itself and soon I found myself outside the massive building.

Being an old-fashioned romantic at heart in many ways I prefer cosy, smaller shops to be honest but there is still something frightfully fascinating about these mega complexes full of absolutely everything your heart desires. And taking a deep breath I went inside the building.

But only a few yards inside the building I stopped. The place was huge, not just to the ceiling but the supermarket just seemed to go on and on for as far as your eyes could go.

Picking up a metal basket I soon found myself strolling along the aisles with big, fairytale eyes of deep fascination. A place this big would never be allowed to open back home, that’s one of the many charms coming from a small country, I guess.

I could probably have spent half a day in there and still see something new and interesting around the next corner but despite the scale of it all it also depressed me somewhat. How many of my beloved cosy, small local shops must have vanished for this giant to be here like this. I was tempted to put my metal basket down on the shiny floor and just leave again thinking that just by being there I wasn’t any better than all the other people who came here forcing long-established, family run local shops to close down in the process. But there was just something about this place that blinded me to look away from it all. And as I continued walking up and down aisle after aisle filling my metal basket more and more the sad feelings slowly vanished bit by bit. And when I later left the massive supermarket behind me again I could hardly carry all the stuff I sadly ended up buying to take back with me to the B&B. I hated myself for having supported such a massive industry and not least for being lured into indulging in all the cheap deals on offer. But back in my room at the end of the narrow hall on the first floor of the B&B those feelings disappeared after a few good bites of the most wonderfully crisp Thumberland Sausage Ring you could ever wish for. And I hadn’t even finished the tasty ring before I had stopped cursing myself altogether for having fallen into the same trap as most of the people living not just in my beloved North East but in the entire UK. Damn you Tesco! But not too much as I don’t want your Deli to stop crisping up Thumberland Rings for me...

****

The following morning, and after a good chat on the phone with my best friend in the North East, who gave me good directions to the local library where he said I could use their computers, I went back out after my usual morning wank and refreshing shower.

Turned out most of the walk to the library was pretty much the same as the walk to the depressingly wonderful supermarket the day before. In fact, my best friend’s directions had guided me all the way to the opening doors of the mega store but avoiding looking directly at the temptations behind the large glass windows instead I walked on and straight past them. On the other side by the very next corner by the shop selling electric goods his fine directions took me further down a small walking path along the buildings and crossing just one road I soon found myself right outside what appeared to be a fairly small, local library. I love libraries with such a passion and on several levels, too, which had already seen me banned from two libraries back home. Not because of my great passion for the written word as such more because I had been caught getting a nice blow job whilst there. The first time at both places I had been let off with a strict warning but some things are hard to change and after the second time caught with my cock in the mouth of someone I was banned for the foreseeable future at both libraries. Needless to say it was a big blow…

Standing outside the front door to the library I noticed they had only just opened at eleven o’clock with it being a Thursday. As I went in and had a look around the place I was surprised and somewhat saddened to see that it was even smaller than it looked from the outside. Hoping the good, local people in this fairly new town had better options not too far elsewhere I went to the small counter.

-       Excuse me, but I’ve been told you have a computer here I could use?

I politely asked, and the 50-something woman with slightly old-fashioned glasses and hair put back in a round knot dressed like a typical librarian looked at me with what could only be described as natural curiosity from behind the counter:

-       That’s right.

She said, looking over her glasses and directly at me as I stood there in front of her with my rucksack like a proper tourist somewhat out of place.

-       Do I have to have a library member’s card to use one of them?

I asked, hoping I didn’t have to sign up to anything with me being in town for a mere few days only.

-       No, but you need to put your name and details down here.

The woman said, and handed me a piece of paper. And as I gave it a quick look she continued:

- You can sign up for an hour at a time and the price is £1.

- OK…

I said, and smiled. I hadn’t expected it to be very expensive and was pleased to hear it was just one quid:

-       Then I’d like to sign up for two hours, please…

I said, but the look on her face told me straight away that was a no-go from the off:

- You can only sign up for one hour at a time, I’m afraid. We only have six computers and the demand is growing so we’ve put a limit of one hour at a time on each computer.

- Ah OK…

I said, trying to keep the smile on my face despite being somewhat annoyed about only being able to get to use their computers for sixty minutes.

A minute or so then went with neither of us saying anything and as she watched me I filled out the small form on the piece of paper she had handed me. Then I gave it back to her:

-       What if I’d like to use your computer for longer than an hour?

-       Then you’ll have to come back to me and sign up for another hour. But you can only get more time if no-one else has signed up for it in between, of course.

She said, still looking at me over her glasses from her office chair behind the counter.

-       Fair enough…

I said, struggling a bit harder to stay smiling and gave her a one pound coin. It was quite cheap, I had to admit, but the bureaucracy of it all did my head in.

-       The computers are right there.

The woman then said, pointing into the space some ten yards or so directly in front of her. Thanking her I went to the desks at the other end of the room, dropped my rucksack and sat down by the computer furthest away from her. Strict can be very sexy but there is a time and a place for everything, I guess, something I probably should know by now with my two bans from libraries back home still very much hanging over my head…

****

Having turned the computer on and checked my inbox noticing there were a few e-mails off my website as well as the normal jolly e-mails from near and far I then wrote a couple of lines to my best friend in the area letting him know that due to his fine directions I had found the library with ease and that I would be there for at least the next hour, hopefully longer depending on things, of course. Then I checked the online newspapers from back home to see what was going on while I was away as I like to keep up with current events as much as the next guy. Finding little of interest I then read the first of the six e-mails off my website from people getting in touch with me.

The first one was from the good Bible folks of Utah giving me their usual lines of how bad a person I was for working in the adult industry; even though these days just behind the scenes as a writer. Having in mind my website is very soberly done with no vulgar images of any kind, very few distracting and carefully selected advertising banners for even naughtier things and with the focus on there being solely on my written work and that one would have to actually read a few pages to get the slightest bit upset if so inclined, for years now I have found it staggering the number of people spending time and energy on telling me I’m “the weed in the Garden of the Lord”, that my work “brings tears to the eyes of Jesus” or simply that when my time comes I will burn in Hell for sure. This from nice, Christian people not able to see behind it all and failing dramatically to grasp that I’m not set out to upset anyone, merely working in the entertainment business on a different level than that of their local newspapers based on forgivingly, Christian values, go figure. I may not attend mass each Sunday but I’m still a member of the Church of Denmark and still happily and voluntarily paying my Church Tax each year but the good Bible folks of Utah have never been able to see the forest for trees, it seems. After years of quoting the Bible at me over and over again, more often than not reminding me of what happened to Jezebel, they always end their e-mails by saying they will pray for me, which is nice, of course, but still why is it this hard to just live a little, eh? It’s one thing to know my work is banned in China (don’t they have sex in China?) but to also be condemned by the Christians being one myself how mind boggling is that?

With my website being put together in the way it is and stating I will reply to any e-mail I get off the website for years I have found myself replying to these kinds of e-mails. For the first couple of years I actually tried to get a correspondence going with the good Bible folks of Utah but have failed every single time trying as once they have vended their anger at me and I have replied in the nicest of ways possible trying to tell them I’m not actually a bad guy for trying to put a smile on people’s faces with my work, they are yet to get back to me even once. Makes you wonder what they are doing visiting my website in the first place. Especially when before they enter the site itself the very first thing that meets them is an 18+ rating letting them know the site contains material for adults only…

So having long given up any hope of any possible sombre correspondence with them I have long put together an almost standard reply when I write them back. With today’s reply being no different I continued and read e-mail number two off my website.

Noticing the e-mail was sent less than one hour after the first one had reached my in-box, sadly it wasn’t even a surprise when the second e-mail turned out to be almost exactly the same as the first one. The same style of wording, the exact same quotes from the Bible and the same prayer for me at the end word for word. This has happened so many times over the years already that I no-longer have any doubts that the good Bible folks work in groups and when one of them comes across a website they dislike they get in touch with their fellow Christian friends who then send out the same standard message condemning me as well. Any other explanation is beyond me, I’m afraid, which makes me less sad to give them a standard reply right back. And having sent the same sort of reply to the second e-mail off the site and with time passing quickly on my one hour granted by the librarian I continued and read the third e-mail.

It was from a young woman in South Africa, where for some reason my work has always been received very well. It wasn’t an e-mail about my work as such, she merely said in her mail that she had just read one of the pieces up on my website and felt like writing me a quick e-mail. In it she asked not to my work but whether or not I had any thoughts on what she could do to turn her husband into the wonderful and caring bloke he once was. She wrote how she would be in the house most of the day and when he came home from work he was too knackered to do anything at all. She wrote how his work was taking more and more out of him and that it was taken a toll on their sex life in the process asking me if I had any thoughts on how she could rekindle the sex life they used to share and enjoy together without making her sound like she was pestering him for a shag the second he walked in. Deciding that I would think about my advice before getting back to her I finished the other e-mails and by then the one hour was almost up. But with no-one else at the other five computers there and with no-one looked to be lined up for the one I was using I simply stayed put for the time being.

After a few minutes trying my best to ignore the librarian and how she cleared her throat a bit louder for each time I finally got up from the chair and walked back up to her at the counter and signed up for a second hour.

Shortly after I had returned to my chair at the other end of the room a second user of their computers showed up, a young lady probably in her early or mid 20s who took a seat by the free computer right in front of me on the other side of the double desk.

****

Getting stuck in at the computer again and sorting out a few bits and pieces the second hour went by just as quick as the first one and before I knew it was time to leave again. I still had a couple of things down on my list of things to do computer wise but decided to leave it till next time or if the computers at the small, local library were occupied by then wait till I returned back home to my own computer instead. And packing my things into my trusty and much needed rucksack I got up from the chair. Noticing the young woman on the other side looking up at me from her own screen in front of her and giving me a smile I smiled back at her and then left. On my way out I thanked the librarian still sitting behind the counter looking somewhat strict and wished her a good day. And walked away.

Once back outside I stopped a few yards or so from the library doors and checked my rucksack to make sure I had everything with me and hadn’t left anything behind by the computer. Seemed like I had it all sorted so placing the rucksack on my back I began walking away from the library and back across the street and up the narrow walking path by the electronic and gadget shop. Then, as it hit me I would be passing the annoyingly alluring mega store again, I stopped and turned around. And instead I took a turn to my right and decided to go further into the town centre hoping to see at least a bit of interesting, local views on my way.

Some ten minutes or so later I found myself bang in the middle of where I had been the morning before, surrounded by smaller shops in what saddened me yet again as I noticed nothing had of course changed overnight and that half the small shops had still shut down. One of the few ones still open to business was the local bakery and what appeared to be the local post office. Figuring I probably needed a few stamps for cards and letters to loved ones back home and elsewhere I walked into the post office. Only to find it was more a convenient store mutated with a news stand and what was left of a local branch of the postal service. Two people stood in line at the post counter so I had a look around the place before going to get my stamps and bought a regional newspaper and a couple of national tabloids as well as a standard, rather conservative looking broadsheet newspaper. A bottle of pops and a sandwich in one of those triangular plastic boxes also found their way with me to the counter before finding a more restful place inside my rucksack. And then I went to get my stamps.

Back outside the mixed shop I stopped for a couple of seconds before deciding on trying to find a bench somewhere to eat the sandwich and skim through one of the tabloids. It had just turned lunch time and the weather was nice and dry, perfect for a snack and a read on a town bench somewhere. But only a few yards further on I was stopped by a voice coming from behind me:

-       Hey!

Turning around I saw the young woman from the local library walking up to me smiling all the way.

-       Hi…

I said, when she reached me and now stood right in front of me.

-       You look a bit lost there…

She smiled, and gave me a good look over.

-       Yeh, well…

I began, retuning her wonderful smile before continuing:

-   I’m not from around here and don’t know my way ‘round yet…

- If you need a local tour guide, I don’t have any plans for the next couple of hours… I’ve just been stood up.

She said, and though still smiling she sounded both a little apologetic and curious at the same time.

-       Am sorry to hear that…

I said, giving her my most sympathetic of smiles back.

-       So, where are you from and what are you doing here of all places? It’s not exactly a tourist magnet…

I had to agree with that as thus far I had spent the best times while there in my room at the B&B all on my own and as much as I like my own company it’s not really how anyone would prefer spending a few days on a break away from home now is it.

- I’m Alex. I’m from Denmark.

I said, and reached my right hand out to her. Greeting my hand her smile got a bit broader again:

- Hi Alex, nice to meet you… I’m Louise but you can call me Lou.

- Lou, nice to meet you, too.

I said, as we both smiled while checking each other out a bit like perfect strangers who just met tend to do.

As we began to walk next to one another and away from all the depressingly closed shops around us we talked about the place I was visiting for just a handful of days, my place back home and pretty much everything and everywhere in between, really. And while she showed me the town and talked me through everything we got a great chat going and before either of us knew time had flown by and after a good three hours the Grand Tour had finished. Mind, had we not got on near as well as we did and had we not got chatting, asking each other loads of questions while walking next to one other like that the tour would have been over and done with allot sooner than that as the sights in the new town were few and far between to say the least. I very rarely express anything but joy and hope when the topic falls on places in my beloved North East of England but then again a very limited selection of places have proven this mind bogglingly depressing a place to visit like this place here. There must be more to it than this, surely.

When our ways parted a good three hours after our first shared conversation we arranged to meet up again later that same evening outside the small post office-turned-news agent as she wanted me to see and experience the new town by night as well while I was there. And arranging a time as well I gave her a nice hug like people back home would have done but which took her a bit by surprise I think; every now and again it strikes me full on just how differently free spirited people in my native Scandinavia are compared to even our neighbouring European countries. People everywhere should hug more, I say, it may be a bit hippie-like in this day and age but there’s nothing wrong showing your affections in public by giving even strangers a good hug when need be. After all, when did a hippie ever harm anyone, like?

****

Back in my room at the B&B I sent my best friend in the area a text making sure he wasn’t planning on taking me out for a pint in the evening, though not having actually seen him at all yet while there I would’ve dropped everything else for the odd chance of spending a couple of hours in his good company, of course, with him and I being close mates going back years already. He was still at work and texted me back saying it would be a late day at the office and that he would be heading straight home after work, hoping to catch up with me before we went to the planned football game two days later, a game I had long sorted us with tickets for and was really looking forward to allot as after all this time it would be our very first game in the stands together watching the Lads play at home. This meant, of course, I had the evening free to meet up with Lou later on, though I didn’t tell my good mate about it as by the sound of his texts he was annoyed as it was by not being able to meet me for a pint as long promised.

****

The rest of the afternoon and early evening snailed on and though I kept myself somewhat busy going through the pages I’d written overnight editing a few bits and pieces along the way and though I couldn’t resist the odd wank, too it felt like the evening would never come. When it did, though, I was more than ready and after a jolly nice shower I skipped tea and walked up to our arranged meeting spot outside the wannabe post office in mid town.

With not just the already shut down shops there closed at this hour, of course, the place looked even more deserted than earlier in the day. And as I found a place standing underneath a bit of half-roof sticking out from one of the closed shops covering me from what seemed to be a light evening shower I found myself wondering what on Earth the lass would show me in the new town that would be more interesting at this time of night than when the sun was shining earlier on.

Not having packed any heavy clothes for my brief stay in the North East this time, with it being late Summer after all, I was only wearing a fleece top outside of my t-shirt to go with my blue jeans. And with the light Summer shower having kicked in on my way to our meeting spot I was glad to find how one of the small shops had a half-roof sticking out like this. I wasn’t soaking wet or anything but at least now it wouldn’t get any worse, right? Well, wrong…

After having waited under the half-roof in the rain for probably ten minutes or so I heard a noise and turned my head.

-       You’ll catch a cold standing there…

It was Lou, of course, but she wasn’t walking up to me from a distance like I had expecting her to do from whichever direction she would come from. Instead she was standing in the brick-covered alley at the entrance to the small shopping area a bit away from me.

-       How long have you been standing there?

I said, and gave her a big smile as I walked up to her instead.

-       Just a few minutes… I was watching you.

She said, returning my smile as we soon found ourselves standing right in front of each other.

-       You’re wet…

She smiled back, and caressed my left shoulder with her right hand as to wipe away any drops of rain there might have been. They had long been soaked up by the fleece top I was wearing, of course, but her hand on my shoulder like that felt rather nice.

-       So are you…

I said, returning her smile and gesture by caressing her shoulder as well but unlike mine there were actually drops of rain to wipe away there, which, of course, I did. Noticing a few drops on her face as well I moved my hand from her shoulder to her left cheek and with a couple of fingers caught a big rain drop running down her face.

-       Kiss me.

She suddenly said, taking me a bit by surprise. I was no stranger to fiddling around on first dates or anything like that being a warm-blooded bloke, of course, but honestly I wasn’t thinking about anything naughty up till then, merely being a gentleman wiping away a few drops of Summer rain from the beautiful face of a young woman standing all wet there in front of me. But her words blew parts of my gentleman genes completely away and with no further words spoken between us I moved closer to her there in the alley. Letting my hand run down her face moist by the rain caressing her skin as I went on I gave her a soft kiss.

I’m not exactly known for kissing people, it’s too intimate for my liking and I don’t want to think about any possible consequences neither before nor after as to some people a kiss means a lot. I’m very happy being a single bi-sexual lad and usually don’t let any softness like kissing get in the way too much. It doesn’t mean I have a heart of stone, I just don’t want things to go too overboard and I know from experiences how a kiss can be the beginning to allot of unnecessary grief later on. One day if I’m lucky enough to find someone special, someone I actually really care deeply about, I might end up setting a new world record in kissing who knows what the future brings but not looking for anything too deep I never expect things to develop much further than a shag or a good blow job. I know how living my life this way I risk ending up lonely and sad years from now but I would rather sit back in my grandpa chair all by myself shouting at the telly like old geezers tend to do knowing that at least I have lived a little and not fallen into just any old trap of Love that crossed my journey through Life. If Love even exists, that is.

Her lips tasted gloriously sweet. Like the first bite of the first freshly picked strawberry of the season. Her lips were soft and lush and returning my kiss we soon found ourselves snogging our heads off the way only two lustful strangers meeting in the rain do. But this wasn’t a date at all it was just two young people seeking cover for the rain in an alley in the middle of one of the least traditional towns I’ve had the pleasure of visiting in all my years travelling back and forth from my native Denmark to Northumbria.

As she moved her hand from my left shoulder to my face where it was met by her other hand and as my own pair of hands followed her move we held each others faces, wet from the rain, and kissed like it was our last kiss in Life. Like it was our final chance ever to get a bit of lip service from a fellow, randy human being we let our mouths and lips silently do the talking for us.

Doing so the rest of our lustful bodies moved away from the alley wall and as we found ourselves standing half covered under the alley and half out in the open the rain turned from a light Summer shower and into a quite heavy downpour to say the least and fell upon us pretty much soaking us with hard rain straight away. Not that we cared, really, we were too occupied by the situation and by each other to notice.

As I said, I’m not used to letting kissing get in the way of something slightly naughtier but as we kissed our way in the rain to a state of soon complete soaked we didn’t speak a word.

After a couple of minutes kissing this way she turned us both around and with her now being the one standing mostly in the hard rain she pushed us both back inside the brick-covered alley again. Pushing me up against the cold wall her soft lips left mine and with my hands still very much on her wet face she moved her body down caressing my upper body with both her eager hands as she went on.

When she reached the top of my blue jeans she lifted up my fleece top a bit, undid my leather belt and just as she was about to undo my fly as well she looked up at me grinning all over her beautiful, wet face with rain drops still rivering down her cheeks and forehead from her soaked, dark hair.

Then, and without undoing the button of my jeans, she sorted the fly and noticing how solid I was inside my pants she rubbed my crotch for a few seconds before pulling out my hard cock from its hiding place inside my boxer shorts. And with no words needed she opened her mouth and took our andy deep inside of her. No pre-licking or stroking or anything like that, no, she was a lass who obviously knew what she was after and definitely how to get it. And still with both my hands holding her wet face she began to suck me off nicely. Bit too rough for my liking at times but hey we could be found out any second as anyone could come by the alley and what’s wrong in living for the moment, eh.

Wanting more of the same but at the same time also wanting to taste her, too, I was in two minds for the next few minutes. She sucked my hard cock like a good one and I really enjoyed her tight lips and warm, horny mouth around our andy. But I also knew I wasn’t going to leave things like this so after a good, long sucking by her I moved my hands away from her wet face and to the sides of her shoulders pulling her back up to me.

Then we kissed again. Her lips were still as soft and lush as before and I loved the fact that I could taste my own pre-cum on her tongue as mine explored hers French style. Tasting myself this way through her turned me on even more and soon after I moved my hands further down her sides and as I grabbed her gently I turned us around so she now faced the wall with her back instead of me. All while we continued to kiss each other like mad.

Then I moved my lips away from hers, moved my hands from her sides to her crotch and unzipped her blue jeans as well.

She wasn’t wearing any panties and with her jeans shortly after down her knees I moved my right hand right to her crotch and began to finger her nicely.

-       Uhmmm…

She moaned in ways that told me she wanted more of the same and fingering her warm pussy real good for a few more minutes sticking two more fingers up her cunt I felt how moist she got as I went on.

Then I pulled my three fingers out of her again and while still kneeled in front of her I looked straight up at her and placed the three pussy juice covered fingers at my lips. Even in the darkness of the alley they were nicely glossy and shiny and as I stuck out my tongue and licked them clean, before sticking all three of them into my mouth to get any left-over pussy juice that I might’ve missed with my thirsty tongue, we both grinned.

Having licked my fingers and slurped her tasty pussy juices I slowly got to my feet again and with my feet I spread her legs a bit more making room for our andy.

And with her jeans, soaked from the rain, stuck somewhere between her knees and her ankles, I moved closer in on her. My hands found their way under her thin Summer top and without bothering whatsoever with her bra I began to fondle her nice breasts. All while my cock was reaching its maximum of hardness and more than eager to get in on the action as well, of course.

And as I moved even closer to her naked crotch I took my right hand away from her bra-covered breasts and grabbed my cock, pointed it to her Grotto of Love, spat on my dark-red cock head and slowly entered her warm and nicely moist pussy.

Man, it felt good. Great even and as my right hand returned to under her light Summer top and soon found its place cupping her breasts again like my left hand had done all along, she placed both her hands on my back letting them run up and down my wet fleece top.

Slowly at first, testing how she liked it, I began to fuck her but soon upped the tempo more and more till I soon found myself fucking her harder and harder giving her a proper seeing to up against the alley wall. It wasn’t too comfortable for either of us as such fucking her standing up like this but neither of us seemed to care too much and just followed the flow the best we knew how.

Slowing down the speed of which I was fucking her every now and again only to raise it shortly after, a trick I learned many moons ago by a good mate suggesting it to me one night over a couple of beers in my roof flat back home, we were both getting more and more into it and as we both reached closer to climax first her right leg moved ‘round my arse then her left. And with both her feet off the ground now and with me holding up her body against the alley wall like that I pounded my hard cock deeper and deeper, harder and harder into her warm and moist pussy.

-       Yes! Yes! Yes!!

She moaned loud, almost screaming with her eyes closed. And as the heels of her shoes got stuck deeper and deeper into my jeans-covered arse cheeks making me nicely sore her dark hair, still soaked from the rain, went in all directions above our heads.

-       Uhmmm!

I moaned, getting more and more out of breath and closer to shooting my creamy load the harder I fucked her.

-       Stop… Stop…

She then suddenly said, grinning all over her wet face out of breath, too. And slowing down pretty much stopping instantly I pulled my hard cock out of her warm pussy as she placed both her feet back onto the ground.

-       You OK?

I asked, and gave her a somewhat worried smile as I tried to get my breathing back to a somewhat normal as quickly as possible.

-       Yeh, I’m great… I just don’t want you to cum in me…

She said, grinning even more. Then she took her hands away from my back, and reached out grabbing my hard cock. And as her left hand found a place back on my arse she began to wank me off with her right hand. Kicking off in a rather hefty tempo and not slowing down whatsoever she milked our andy like she was trying to make a fire with a thick stick of wood.

Within less than a minute I knew I couldn’t hold out for much longer.

-       Am gonna cum… Am cumming!

I moaned, and just as she managed to get out of the way I shot my salty load out and onto the alley wall and down the ground, too. Slowing down her rough wank now she squeezed the last drops of hot cum out of my cock grinning all over her pretty, wet face as she went on.

Few words were spoken between us after that and as we sorted our clothes again the feeling of fulfilment was in the air. Words are not needed in these situations, especially not between two strangers, and when we shortly after said our good nights and hugged I watched her as she left the alley and back out into the rain, luckily now not falling as heavy as before. When she was gone I looked around the alley for a few seconds to see if there were any CCTV cameras that might have caught us. Not noticing any in the dark I looked up and into the wet skies of night and then walked back to my room at the B&B where I grabbed a nice, hot shower and then went to bed with a cup of hot cocoa for an early night.

****

I still wonder, though, had it not begun to rain on my way to our meeting spot by the closed down shops in the town centre, what she might’ve shown me that night. As it was I left the new town a few days later annoyingly unsatisfied of local attractions. All but one, that is.

****