The Black Bull, pt.II
(King's Ransom)

Sometimes it happens and there is a perfect alignment of the stars. When everything seems to come together just perfectly, and nothing will get in the way of good times for all.


One of these happened when I was back over in my beloved North East of England this year. Kyle’s band was playing a gig on my second Friday night back over, in the beautiful village of Lanchester of all places. Lanchester being one of my old hunting grounds years back and a place I think back on with somewhat mixed memories. Mostly wonderful memories and those are the ones I have kept with me in my heart since.


I lived in the valley village for a short space of time almost two decades ago, about four months only, but I met and still keep in touch with some wonderful locals who all enrich my life to this day. And with the happy memories it was a loud and clear Yes from me when Kyle had asked me if I fancied coming with the band to their gig in the village on the Friday in the second week I was back over. There was no chance I would miss the opportunity to revisit the village and with my good buddy, too.




The band was set to play at one of the spots on Front Street, the main street of the village, and getting a lift from outside Kyle’s place in Sunderland, where I was staying for my annual fortnight back over, from Craig, the lovely guitarist, all three of us were off and I was all set and ready to take a walk back Memory Lane when we left the city shortly after seven in the evening and heading for the beautiful village of Lanchester.


Their gig was set to begin at nine and when we got to the venue the band’s white van, having been driven there by the bass player, had already arrived. Along with Ollie, the drummer, and the two of them were already busy setting it all up for the evening’s gig.




I never have any worries about the band’s gig not going well. They always do and they always end up having everyone in the palm of their hands. I loved seeing that. This night was no different and when the first set finished, and I got a round in for them all we had a jolly good break together.

-         Am just going to pop round The Black Bull for a bit to see how the place is.


I said when Craig and Ollie had gone to the men’s room and Kyle and I were left alone at the table I had found for us before the gig had kicked off. Kyle, having known me for years, knew about my time spent in the village of course, and for the last few years when I have stayed at his we had made an afternoon trip back here to visit the most wonderful old couple I have known and loved since living there. They became almost like my family away from home back then and it is always a great pleasure dropping by each year and spending a few jolly good hours with them. And Kyle loves them as well, which makes me very happy each time we go, too.

-         Sounds good, mate. I’ll see you when you get back. Have a good one.


Kyle smiled and as we both got up from our seats at the table we hugged and seeing Craig and Ollie return from the men’s room and with the bass player looking eager to kick off the second set of their gig I reached out for my trusted ol’ rucksack and left the venue for now.




The village of Lanchester being, well, a village, the main street isn’t the longest street in the world. In fact, the distance between the gig venue of the night to The Black Bull, my old watering hole from times gone by, was probably less than a two hundred metre walk down Front Street.





The moment I opened the door to the pub it was like stepping back in time. The clientele might have changed slightly in the last close to two decades but the place itself looked just the same. I loved it and was instantly taken back in time to a time where the world hadn’t gone fully mad just yet.


As I walked in, I noticed the pool table to my left was still there, too. The last time I played on there I was playing Ste, the handsome and very friendly barman, on one of the quieter week-day afternoon shifts he had. I remember it very vividly as he broke the game, pocketed all his seven balls one after the other, then looked at me and wonderfully cocky grinned to me saying ‘Shall I do yours as well ?’ before pocketing all seven of mine, too one after the other. I had lost the game without even getting a single shot in. Never before and not since have I had that big a thrashing at the pool table. It simply wasn’t possible to lose a game of pool any bigger than what I did that afternoon. And to this day I still remember the feeling; I wasn’t upset or even annoyed by it, I was in awe as all I could do was watch Ste play and kick my arse. You have got to take your hat off for that. As it turned out it was the last time, I played a game of pool at The Black Bull but what a memory to be left with as the final game.


Figuring I might as well since I was there, I walked to the bar and got myself a pint of Stella. Then I turned around with my drink in hand to get a better look of the place and to soak in all the years that have gone by since I was there last.


Looking around I noticed the corner table to the side of the bar was free. It made me smile as that very table was where I sat during my time living in the village and penned words and scribbles into my little paper notebooks for future use. It gave me a perfect view of the pub as well as being seated right next to the front windows, it gave me the light and the feel of the street outside, too. It also meant that no-one could be seated behind me, something I have always hated from a very early age. So, all in all the corner table was a pretty perfect seat for me.


Walking from the bar to the table I pulled the rucksack off my back, placed it next to me on the floor by the chair and took my old seat in a matter of seconds and smiled to myself again. Took a good couple of slurps from my pint of Stella and put the glass down in front of me. Then I looked around the place again. For a Friday night it wasn’t too busy, but I liked it this way. Overly busy pubs do my head in. When you need to almost kick people out of the way to get a drink, no, not for me. Which is why I usually avoid pubs both back home in my hometown of Varde but also in my beloved North East on Friday nights. I much prefer the quieter times, times where you can hear yourself think, times where you can relax either on your own or in the good company of a dear friend, times where you can feel safe.


Looking around the place I tried to see if there was anyone in that I could recall from my time living in the village. But not recognising anyone I reached out for my pint glass again, thinking it was good to have seen it all again but that I would probably go back to the gig venue when I finished my drink and see the rest of the second set.


But no sooner had that crossed my mind when a lad walked up to the table next to mine in the corner. He looked familiar but also a bit tipsy. The barman, in a louder voice than he had served me moments earlier, looked over at the lad and said:

-         Pint, Stephen ?


The lad looked the way of the barman and just nodded. He was obviously a regular punter. As he took a seat at the table next to mine our eyes met. Yes, I had seen him before but not in this state.


The barman, having poured him a pint, came over to his table with his drink, placed it on the table in front of him, smiled and went back to the bar with no words spoken. I watched as the lad reached out, picked up the pint glass and downed half of it on one go before putting the glass back down on the small, round table in front of him.


Then it suddenly dawned on me:

-         Ste ?


I said and the lad looked at me. Our eyes met again. I smiled:

-         It’s you isn’t it ?


He looked at me for several seconds then his focus seemed to change somewhat, and he suddenly broke into a big smile and said:

-         Alex !




Twenty minutes or so later and having joined me at my old table in the corner by the front windows, and having caught up with plenty of things that had happened in our lives since we last met years ago, Ste needed a wee, excused himself like a proper Englishman and headed to the men’s room. I watched him walk through the pub and disappear around the corner by the jukebox and went to the bar to get us a fresh pair of pints. Time was flying by and the band’s gig near-by was well into its second set by now; soon I would have to uproot and join the rest of them to head back home to Sunderland. But I was enjoying my reunion with Ste too much to think about all that just yet.

-         Ah, cheers, mate.


He said with a big smile as he returned to our corner table and saw his fresh pint of beer in front of him.

-         Are you back over for good ?


He asked as he took his seat next to me again. Still smiling. Returning his smile, I replied:

-         Sadly not. Only here for a fortnight and the first week has already gone… Flying back home again next Thursday.


He suddenly looked a bit saddened and went a bit quiet.

-         How’s your love life these days ?


I asked, trying to cheer him up a bit, and as I took a good slurp of my fresh pint, he looked at me and sighed:

-         Well, I have met someone… Caroline…


He began. That was good news, but he didn’t sound like everything was going exactly to plan.

-         In fact…


He continued but paused and took a good slurp of his pint as well, putting the glass down onto the table in front of us he went on:

-         I was going to ask her to marry me tonight.

-         Really ? That’s great, how did it go ?


I smiled, hoping for a happy response but feared it wouldn’t be too happy the way he was downing his drinks and the way he spoke.

-         Well… I had cooked tea for us, opened a bottle of chilled wine… And then as I waited for her to come home from seeing her mates after work, she texted me saying she was staying out tonight with them…

-         Ah…


I said, smiled and continued:

-         You can always ask her tomorrow or Sunday.


He looked at me and our eyes met:

-         Yeh… But I had it all planned out for tonight, mate… Bit of home-cooked food, wine… I even got her some nice roses… A ring…


Despite his mood and his words, he still managed to crack a smile:

-         I should just have bought a cock ring instead.


We both laughed at his glorious thoughts and reached out for our pints again. Another good slurp later our eyes met again:

-         Are you still bi ?


He asked, pretty much out of the blue.

-         Yes…


I said, still smiling. At his wonderful directness that thankfully hadn’t changed over the years but also by the fact that he may have been a bit tipsy, but he was still the same open-minded, good lad I got to know and love back then.

-         How’s that going ? Are you getting plenty cock ?


He continued and we both grinned.

-         Only enjoyed one while being back over this time so far but the night is still young.


I said and our eyes met as he repeated my words:

-         The night is still young…




We then sat in silence for a moment or two.


Shortly after we both finished our pints and our eyes met again as Ste smiled and said:

-         Fancy another ?


Returning his smiled I replied:

-         As much as I really want to, I think I better get back to the gig venue. They will be closing their second set by now.


Keeping eye contact Ste moved a bit closer to me, placed a hand on my naked thigh just where my Summer shorts began and continued:

-         I didn’t mean another Stella, mate…




Moments after leaving the small, round table in the corner of the pub facing the front windows and having taken my trusted ol’ rucksack with me, we found ourselves in an otherwise empty men’s room. The pub was closing in on being almost empty as well and there was little chance of anyone left there to be needing a wee right now.


I followed him through the door and straight to the urinals. Without saying a word, he zipped down his blue jeans right next to me and pulled an already more than semi chub-on out.


I had never actually seen Ste’s cock before, but it was a beautiful one, I must admit and with it looking more and more like he was handing it to me on a plate, it would be rude not to tuck in. After all, one of my biggest turn-ons with another lad is chest hair and having noticed the sexy hair at the top of his slightly open shirt for the past thirty or so minutes I was already long turned on truth be told.


With still no words spoken and with the jukebox in the main room changing its tune from a classic by The Clash to an equally classic tune by Rod Stewart, tonight could indeed be the night and it was indeed going to be alright. It may have taken us close to two decades, but I was well up for it.


Ste turned slightly to me at the urinal. I was getting pretty solid inside my Summer shorts, too but kept our andy inside for now. Then I reached out my right hand and grabbed his still nicely growing cock, gave it a few good strokes, felt it and watched as it grew to full size in the palm of my warm hand. Seven strong, solid inches of glorious, uncut goodness.

-         Take yours out, too, mate…


Ste suddenly said, in an almost whispering way. I didn’t have to, I was more than happy touching and feeling him this way on his own but gave in straight away and as my hand left his hard cock I pulled down my Summer shorts slightly and whipped my now almost full chub-on over the top of the shorts.

-         Nice one.


Ste smiled and returning his smile our eyes met:

-         Can I suck it ?


I asked, also in an almost whispering way.

-         Oh yes.


He grinned then continued:

-         Go for it, mate.




With my now solid chub-on sticking out over the top of my Summer shorts I gave myself a few strokes while looking at Ste’s hard cock next to me. I watched him stroke himself a few times as well.


Then I moved closer to him and got down to my knees but without touching the floor with anything other than my sandal covered feet.


I reached out both my hands to his crotch. With my left hand I pulled his ballsack out and cupped it gently. With my right hand I grabbed his hard cock and looked up at him from my kneeled position in front of him.


Our eyes met again and so did our smiles. He may have been a bit tipsy but fuck it, at this moment in time we both wanted this to happen. I licked my lips and his smile got even bigger:

-         Suck it, mate… Make me feel good.


He said, still almost whispering and that is just what I did.


Helping a good mate out is always nice and Ste seemed to be in a place at that moment in time where me sucking him off would do him the world of good.


Moving my focus back to his big, hard cock I continued to wank him off for a moment or two. Then I licked my lips a second time and moved closer to his crotch.


When his cock head was just in front of my lips, I gave it a gentle kiss. Then a second kiss before opening my mouth.


I looked up at him again. His naughty smile said it all but if I was in any doubt, he nodded his head in silence as to tell me to just go for it.


I did.


Sticking my soft tongue out I licked the tip of his cockhead. He was already pre-cumming, not a lot but enough for me to taste it. I love the taste of pre-cum so much, like sweet nectar from the most beautiful flower. With my left hand still cupping and now gently juggling and pulling his ballsack I stroked his hard cock a few more times, squeezing another drop of delicious pre-cum out of his opening slit and licked it all up like a good one.


Then I slowly moved my face closer to his crotch. And mouthed him.


His cock felt so good inside my warm mouth and as I began to suck him off nicely, slow at first but then upping the speed of my mouth, Ste’s moaning increased:

-         Mmm… Mate, that feels so fucking good.


He whisperly moaned as I began to suck him off the best way a friend can pleasure another friend.


Taking him briefly out of my warm, experienced mouth I licked the length of his hard shaft up and down a few times. From the rim of his cockhead down to where his ballsack began. Each time I reached his ballsack he spread his legs a bit more. I took this as a sign of things going well and that he wanted me to go down a bit further.


I did that too, of course.


And lifting his ballsack with my left hand, still with his cock in a firm grip with my right hand, I moved my face a bit down and with his gloriously dangling sack resting on the top of my nose I began to lick his sack as well:

-         Mmmm… That feels so good.


In the process of licking his sack of nuts and in the lighting of the men’s room I turned his sack all glossy and shiny. I must have licked his sack for several minutes and did so with pleasure when I suddenly felt a hand at the back of my shaved head.


I looked up at him again. His eyes were closed but his smile was still very much there. Seeing him live for the moment like this turned me on so very much and I just wanted him to go home to his missus as a happily fulfilled lad.


Still stroking his hard cock with my right hand, my tongue and mouth moved away from his ballsack. My left hand took over again and feeling the now moist skin in my hand I gave his sack a gentle pull. That made his hard cock point to my face even more and not being able to resist it I moved my mouth back to his cock and mouthed him again.


I kept sucking him off like a good one and for each minute that went on like this his moaning increased slightly:

-         Mate…


He whispered, somewhat out of breath, a few minutes later then continued as I continued to suck him off:

-         Am getting close…

-         Mmm…


I moaned with my mouth full of glorious Lanchester cock. I didn’t want this to stop at all; I wanted him to cum and we both sensed the time for that was closing in.

-         MMmm…


He moaned again, this time a bit louder but still in a whispering sort of way. And reached his other hand out, placing it behind the back of my shaved head as well. There both his hands gently pressed my head into his crotch and onto his big, hard cock in my mouth.

-         Am going to cum soon…


He moaned but I kept sucking him off, licking his cockhead with my tongue inside my warm mouth at the same time as my lips went up and down his shaft.

-         Oh mate…


His moaning of pleasure was reaching the point where we both knew what was about to happen. I didn’t ask about it, with being in the middle of it all and busy sorting him out, but it felt like we both expected him to nut in my mouth.


And seconds later he did:

-         Mate… Fuuuck… MMmmm !!


As his creamy load hit the back of my throat, I slowed down my mouth movements and gently sucked him dry. Squeezing every last droplet of hot cum out of his hard cock as I went on

-         Mmmmmm…


He moaned, still with his eyes closed and now with his head moved backwards a bit. I kept sucking and milking him till there was no more tasty cum left in him then looked up at him, still with his hard cock in my mouth. He moved his head down a bit and opened his eyes again. His satisfied, naughty smile, again, said it all. No words were needed.


I took him out of my mouth, swallowed his creamy load and gave his cockhead a gentle kiss. His hands behind the back of my head relaxed somewhat and then I got back onto my feet.


Standing right next to him at the urinals, still with a rock-hard andy slipped over the top of my Summer shorts, Ste’s breathing returned to a somewhat normal. But still smiling he looked down at my crotch as I grabbed my cock with my right hand and began to wank myself off next to him:

-         Yeh, cum for me, mate…


He grinned, still with his cock out in the open. He reached out and began to touch himself, too and as he played with himself right there next to me, I wanked myself off to a jolly good nut as well, shooting my load into the urinals shortly after.




After our moment of shared naughtiness, we shared a wee as well and then left the men’s room together like nothing had happened. The pub was closing and there was only one punter left at one of the other tables. It was time for me to return to Kyle and the band’s gig venue just a couple of hundred metres down the road and as we walked out of The Black Bull and my return to the place after years away, we soon found ourselves on Front Street and as we continued chatting like good pals we began to walk down the pavement.



-         Wait…


I said, and we both paused our walk.

-         Did you say her name is Caroline ?

-         Yeh.


Ste replied.

-         And isn’t your surname King ?

-         Yeh…


He said and looked at me in a question mark sort of way as to show me he wasn’t fully following me.

-         So… If you two marry, she would be… Carole King ?  


He looked at me again:

-         Yeh, guess so.


The funny side of it all still hadn’t surfaced with him just yet:

-         So… Stephen King and Carole King ?


Then it dawned on him, too and we both laughed. And as we kept grinning the rest of the way to the band’s gig venue it was time for our ways to part again.


We did so in jolly good spirits and after a big, warm bit of hugging I gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek and his smile said it all, it had been great seeing him again. And as he continued his walk up along Front Street, I opened the door to the gig venue and walked in. I was met by a grinning Kyle holding the band’s floor fan that had cooled them off nicely throughout another fine gig:

-         Ah, there you are, mate. All set ? How was the old pub ?


Holding the door for him I then followed him back outside and as he placed the fan into the back of the white van, I caught his eyes and smiled:

-         It was good… Very good.