Small Town Adventures: A Close Shave

One of my company’s best clients has based his headquarters, rather bizarrely, in a small town in a very rural part of the country. He says it is because he likes the more relaxed pace of life there, but he is forever travelling to his offices in major cities, and abroad. Each to their own, I suppose

We have scheduled meetings to discuss his portfolio once a quarter, always on the third Thursday of the month. The meeting usually lasts several hours followed by a meal with plenty of wine to accompany it. Indeed, we’ve become good friends over the years.  I always stay in a hotel in the town centre and return back to my base around Friday lunchtime.

It as on my second ever visit, some years ago now, that I discovered a nightclub a mere two minutes’ walk from my hotel. Even better, it hosted a “singles, divorced and separated” night on Thursdays that was always well attended – mostly, it seems, by persons who are not single, or divorced, or separated but just out for a good night. It has proved to be a source of rich pickings for me over the time I have been visiting.

This is the first of my many liaisons that have been a recurring theme of my visits!

I think it would be fair to describe me as a “well-dressed man” – I like clothes and spend money on quality threads. As a result, I do tend to stand out a little from the crowd. I presume it was for this reason that I was “chatted up” by Rose.

Rose would not have been my first choice of bed companion, if truth be told. Mid-40s, with bottle-blonde hair that was displaying a good quarter inch of dark roots. She wore cheap spectacles, a white t-shirt that had seen better days, and a denim mini-skirt that was starting to fray with age. However, she was wearing red high heels and was bare-legged, a look that has always done it for me.

She moved closer to me at the bar and, shouting above the music, stated that she had not seen me at the club before because she was sure she would have noticed. I told her I was just visiting and offered to buy her a drink, even though she was clutching half a bottle of WKD Blue at the time. She accepted, of course.

Soon we were sat away from the dance area chatting to each other. She told me about her sons, who lived away. She made no mention of any husband or boyfriend.  After 20 minutes, I had my hand on her knee and she had opened her legs to give me a glimpse of her white panties underneath her skirt.

I told her I was staying in a hotel in town and casually asked if she wanted to come back for a quieter drink and chat. She agreed immediately, and took my arm as we left the club. However, as we rounded the corner to my hotel (one of only three in the town) she stopped and said that perhaps we could go back to her house. I enquired as to why, and she said that her son’s friend worked there and she didn’t want to be seen entering the hotel so late. She said she lived only a few minutes in the opposite direction, so I agreed.

The house was a fairly dingy two-up, two down and I went into the lounge while she fixed drinks in the kitchen. She then came in and sat on the couch, making a big play of again opening her legs. I said it was a very nice view and would look even better without the panties. She laughed and, lifting herself off the seat, reached up and pulled them down and off.  She sat back down and opened her legs wide to show a nice shaved cunt.

I got up from my seat and, kneeling in front of her, slid her skirt up her thighs and parted her legs further. I then started to probe her with my tongue before finding her clit and started massaging it with my tongue. She soon started to squirm and I stopped, got up, pulled her to her feet and removed her t-shirt.

I turned her away from me, undid her bra, and pushed her back, face forward, onto the couch. I lifted her skirt and undid my trousers. Reaching forward myself, I cupped her breasts in my hands and slid my cock into her.

Ten minutes later, we were both naked and fucking on the couch. She was an enthusiastic lover, and a noisy one. She started to come, so I relaxed and let myself shoot into her as she started bucking under me. Wanting to extend her orgasm, I immediately went down on her with my tongue.  She was, by now, almost screaming, imploring me to fuck her hard.

However, in the midst of her noise, I heard a familiar sound which I couldn’t immediately place. I then realised it was the sound of a mobile phone vibrating. I ignored it but, a few seconds after it stopped, it started again.

“I think that’s your phone”

She rummaged around in her handbag and came out with an old Nokia. She reached for her glasses just as the call ended.

“Nothing important” she said, and bent down to kiss me …. The first time we had kissed!

And then a single buzz. She again picked up the phone and shouted “Shit! No!” and reached for her skirt.

“What’s up?” I enquired

“Get dressed. Quick. My fella is coming home”

I needed no further encouragement. As we hurriedly dressed, she told me that it had been him ringing and he had then sent a text saying he was ten minutes away from the town. She told me he had been working away and wasn’t expected back until Friday evening.

I dressed in record time and headed for the front door, but she steered me to the back door. “Go over the fence at the bottom of the garden and follow the path round”. I was a little concerned at this until I saw the “fence” was only about 18” high. I did as I was told and followed the path round. As I came out onto the road, a white van turned a corner and pulled into the driveway of the house I had left a mere 30 seconds before!

Postscript: Three months later I was back again. Rose was in the club and wearing pretty much identical clothing. I bought a WKD Blue and took it over to her. It actually took her a few seconds to register who I was before she burst out laughing. I told her “Tonight, we go to my hotel” but she said that she was now actually single, having split with her bloke a few weeks before.  This time, we made it to the bedroom and I had a reasonably enjoyable night of fucking and sucking.

On my next visit, she was at the club with another bloke so I kept my distance. I never saw her again after that

A Hot and Sordid Summer's Night

I was working at one of our satellite offices many miles from home and was returning to my hotel at around 10.30pm, having been out for a meal with a new customer. I was feeling particularly horny that night (perhaps because it was a hot summer’s evening) and, when I saw the signs for a roadside restroom, I decided to pull in to see if there was any fun to be had. Such places are few and far between these days, but there is usually an opportunity for a little cock action at such places. In the UK, such a practice is referred to as “cottaging”

However, I believed my luck to be out. There were no other cars in the layby, but I decided to take the opportunity to relieve myself. Now, one will often see mobile telephone numbers scrawled on the wall offering various gay fun and, on occasions, I have tried ringing with various degrees of success.

As expected, there were a few numbers scrawled on the walls but one immediately took my eye

“Couple want male for threesome fun tonight” and, underneath, that day’s date and a phone number. I decided to give it a try and rang. I nearly hung up as the phone at the other end rang for ages but eventually a man answered and I told him I’d just seen his “advert”.  He asked me to describe myself and then, apparently satisfied, gave me an address which was a mere five to ten minutes away. The most unusual thing about the conversation was, however, that it sounded as if he was actually having sex as he spoke to me.

It was agreed that I would ring again when I arrived at the address.  When I arrived, I found myself in what looked like an estate of bungalows which looked like they had been built for the elderly in mind. All had wheelchair ramps and railings to assist people along the path. I telephoned, and got out of my car. A minute later, a male walked over to me. A tall man in his late 40s with incredibly long, greying, hair. To be honest, he looked a bit wild but ... in for a penny!

He led me to a bungalow and inside. We walked through the kitchen into the lounge. Lying on the carpet was a woman, quite fat, and totally naked except for a blue, polyester, nightdress which was pulled up and over her, obscuring her face. My best guess was that she was 60-something. She was completely shaved and had her legs apart, displaying a plump cunt. She also had very heavy breasts that fell either side of her.

The male started to undress and so did I. When he pulled down his trouser bottoms, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. He had the longest, thickest, cock I’d ever seen. Easily 9” long and with a girth to match.  I tore my eyes away and he pointed to the woman on the floor and said “After you”

I got down on the floor and decided to give the woman a little oral action first. I could immediately taste the musky scent of sex upon her as I pulled her lips apart and started tonguing her clit. She soon started moaning and I was now hard. I moved up and slid into her whilst the man started sucking on one of her nipples.  I then sat up, put my arms under her legs, pushed them up and entered her again.

I could feel I was about to come so pulled out to let the man have a go. By now, he was also erect ... very erect in fact. Indeed, watching him push his monster cock into her cunt was an extremely erotic sight and the woman audibly gasped as he pushed into her. I took his place sucking on her tits.  Still, her face was covered and I had no idea what she looked like

We took turns fucking her for 30 minutes or more. It was extremely hot in the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. This was turning me on greatly and the more I saw of the man’s cock, the more I wanted to feel it in my mouth. After he pulled out of her and I was kneeling by him, I reached for his tool and asked him “May I?” He nodded and I took him in my hand.  

It was rock hard and I could not close my fist around it, it was so thick. After wanking him for a couple of minutes, during which he had inserted his whole hand into the woman’s wet hole, I bent down and took him in my mouth. Within 30 secons I could feel warm, salty, spunk filling my mouth. I love the taste of sperm, and swallowed it all.

The woman was soon forgotten, and He pushed me up into a chair and started sucking me off. I was more than ready to come, and soon he was swallowing my jism.  He then immediately plunged his still-hard cock back into the woman and fucked her violently until she, too, was coming. He thenturned her over, pulled her fat butt cheeks apart, and slid himself into her ass.  I was astonished that he was still so hard after having come in my mouth more than five minutes before.

I, however, was spent and started to dress whilst he was butt-fucking her. He was still doing so when I said I’d let myself out and thanked him for the invite.  I walked back out the way I came and noticed a bedroom door open with an old man asleep in the bed.  Suddenly, the thought occurred to me that I had just joined in an incest session with a mother and son.

Thirty minutes later I was back at my hotel and, stripping naked, pleasured myself on the bed whilst reliving the last couple of hours. And I never did see the woman’s face!

A Woman Of A Certain Age

About 20 years ago, my wife became involved in our local amateur dramatics group (or “AmDram” as they referred to it) in the small town where we then lived. They would put on a couple of plays every year and I have to admit that the social side of the group was excellent. It also gave me a couple of rather excellent adventures.

One such play, the name of which now escapes me, was set during the 2^nd world war and revolved around a family living through the Blitz of London.  Every so often I would get roped in to assist and, for this particular play, I was tasked with trying to source some authentic 1940s clothes.  I rang a few costumiers and fancy dress outlets and, through one of these, was referred to a woman called Helen.

I was told Helen had an extensive wardrobe of clothes from that period; indeed, she tended to dress in that style most of the time. I was given her telephone number and was told by my contact that she was an “interesting character”. I rang Helen who said she would be delighted to help and arranged to visit her to see what stuff we could use.

Upon arrival at her house, I was immediately taken with her appearance. She was a woman who appeared, at first glance, to be in her early 60s. I subsequently discovered she was, in fact, 70, and had been a teenager during the war.  She was immaculately dressed in a red velvet dress which was cut surprisingly low, and I had to pull my eyes away from her milky-white breasts that pushed against the fabric of her clothing. She had blonde hair and was wearing the brightest red lipstick. When she turned to let me in, I guessed she was wearing stockings rather than tights, because they had a seam running up the back.

She made me a cup of tea, served in bone china, and started to tell me that the 40s were the time of her life. She asked about the play the group was doing – she seemed to know it – and said she hoped I’d be pleased with her range of clothing.  She then took me upstairs

I had anticipated that she would have a room set aside for her collection and was surprised when she led me into what was obviously her bedroom. One wall was completely taken up by a mirrored wardrobe and she opened it to show me that it was full of dresses that seemed old in style but appeared relatively new. She later told me that she had had most of them made with the help of a friend who created patterns from pictures found in books and magazines.

I was spoiled for choice – I only needed four dresses and it was clear from Helen’s slim build that her dresses would only fit two of the four women in the cast in any event. She picked three or four from the rack and held them up for me to see. All looked perfect for the play.

Helen then said “Let me show you what they look like on” and, before I could say another word, she turned her back to me and asked me to unzip her. As she did so, she pushed herself back into me and the feel of her arse against my groin got me immediately excited.  I undid the zip and she wriggled out of it whilst saying “I hope you are not the bashful type, seeing an old lady in her underwear”

I don’t know quite what I was expecting, but I was very surprised to see that she was wearing a white thong instead of panties. I had been right about the stockings, though, and they came complete with suspender belt. She put on the first dress and again turned to ask to be zipped up.  I have to admit that she looked fabulous in it but still could not stop thinking of her figure. Besides a slight belly (which I always find a turn-on anyway) she had the figure of a woman in her mid-30s.

As I finished pulling up the zip she said “It’s been a while since I’ve had a man to do that for me”.  I remember thinking “I bet it isn’t”. She then leaned right back against me and moved her hand around to my crotch and said “I see I still have the power to seduce” and my cock got even harder as she rubbed me over the material of my suit trousers.

She turned to face me, dropped to her knees, and unzipped me. She immediately took me in her mouth and, even today, I can still remember the sheer pleasure of that experience.  I was also getting turned on by the fact that I could watch her sucking me off in the mirrored wardrobe.

After a few minutes, she stood up and started to undo my tie.  I hurriedly helped her undress me until I was now stood naked in front of her with a massive hard-on. She reached behind her, unzipped her dress, and let it fall to the ground. She then undid her bra and her heavy white breasts fell into my hands. I started to caress her tiny nipples as she leaned in to kiss me. A full open-mouth kiss and we were soon tonguing each other.

She then turned away, leaned over the bed, and pulled her thong to one side. She reached behind me and guided my cock into her very wet cunt. I have to say that I was expecting her to bea little dry, taking into account her age, but that was not the case. Far from it, in fact!

Again, I took great pleasure in watching myself fuck her in the mirror.

After a while, I pulled out and pulled her thong down. She collapsed onto the bed and turned over to face me. Her skin was pure white and she had the most beautiful shaved pubic area. This time I sank to my knees and started to lick and suck at her clit.  When she started to come, I stopped and started to fuck her again.  We ended up fucking in several positions but I eventually came when she was astride me and pinning my arms to the bed as she bit at my lower lip.

Over the next three years, until we moved away, Helen and I became regular lovers. I grew very fond of her, in fact, and discovered I was not the only one. It appeared that she had an extremely active sex life with a number of men in her village. It saddened me greatly when I learned, about ten years ago, yjat she had passed away

More Coffee, Vicar?

My company had sponsored a village fete and thus I felt obliged to pay a visit, despite the fact that I could think of much better ways to spend a summer’s Saturday afternoon. My wife and children came too, and it turned out to be a pleasant afternoon. I am quite a keen, albeit amateur, photographer and took many pics over the course of the afternoon.

The afternoon ended for us being invited for tea by the local vicar, who I’d never actually met before being asked if we would sponsor the event. He was an extremely pleasant chap, very well educated. His wife was also great fun but I remember (and the snob in me comes out here) that he had perhaps married beneath himself. My wife revealed on the way home that she had formed the same imnpression.

She was a small plump woman in her late 40s with a slightly risqué sense of humour which surfaced after her second glass of strawberry wine. I showed them some of the pics that I’d taken and Eileen (the vicar’s wife) asked if I could email some to her. I agreed, and took her email address.

I got round to sending the pics a couple of days later, and thanked her and her husband for a delightful afternoon and for their hospitality afterwards. Iwas somewhat surprised to get a fairly long, chatty, email back from her and thus replied to that. Pretty soon we were having a conversation through a couple of emails a week.

In the course of that correspondence, she revealed that she was in fact his second wife and that they had met when he was a widower and she had become recently bereaved herself. She told me that she found the job of being a vicar’s wife hard but rewarding, but that she wanted to do something for herself.  She then told me that she was setting up a small business as an aromatic masseuse.  Pretty soon, she invited me to partake in a massage session – free of charge, of course.

I knew what was coming, but agreed anyway. I arranged an appointment for a couple of days later. When I arrived, she made me a cup of coffee and showed me the massage table and the array of oils.

“Am I going to have to get naked?” I asked

“Yes”

“Will you be naked?” I cheekily asked back

“If you want me to be” she replied.

I then leant over to kiss her and she immediately responded. I unzipped her track suit top and discovered she was sans bra and I played with her massive tits as we kissed.  I then ran my hand down her ample belly and into the top of her tracksuit bottoms, which were conveniently elasticated.  No panties either, and no hair. Soon my fingers were probing her damp cunt.

A small digression – when I first started enjoying the delights of the opposite sex I can remember my almost total shock the first time I met a woman who was shaved “down there”. I thought it kinky in the extreme. Today, that shock comes when I meet a woman who hasn’t shaved. How times change!

We never did make it to the massage table. Instead we went upstairs and both stripped off. She took a mouthful of coffee and then proceeded to suck me off. The intense pleasure I got from having my cock inside her mouth, hot from the coffee, was fantastic. It’s a trick I’ve taught many women and men since.

Soon I had her on the bed and was enjoying her fat little cunt. We fucked hard and I can remember being a little concerned as she became extremely red-faced just before she came. 

Over the next months we had some high old times between us. Occasionally we’d meet late at night in my office where she liked nothing better than to be tied to a desk with telephone cabling and have me hold her leg high and wife whilst I stood at the end of the desk and fucked her.

We also experimented a few times with outdoor sex which was becoming known as “dogging”. Particular adventures of note were me fucking her on the bonnet of my car whilst a farmer in a tractor watched.  He ended up fucking her too when I finished. Even better was a night in some local woods where she stripped naked and lay on a picnic table. She was fucked by me and three other men and the thought of her sucking one man and wanking another, whilst I fucked her, is a recurring memory.  That night I also fucked a 20-something girl while she knelt in the tailgate of her partner’s car.

All good things, however, must come to an end. Her husband was transferred to an inner city parish and, although we emailed each other from time to time, the correspondence gradually declined to nothing.

A Trip ToThe Coast

I have now set the scene with my previous three posts. From henceforth, there is no particular chronology to my adventures ... I shall just write as I remember them

One of the great boons of my work is that I often have to work away for days at a time, sometimes as much as two weeks. I took over my father’s business when he retired and have developed, over the years, a taste for fine hotels ... hell, fine living, in fact. 

One such time took me to a coastal resort where I was expecting to stay for about four days. On the second day, I finished what I needed to do and decided to go for a walk along the beach to work up an appetite for dinner. It was a beautiful summer’s afternoon so I went back to the hotel, changed, and set off along the promenade. Soon I was at the end and walking on the sands. The town disappeared behind me and I entered an area that seemed totally deserted with huge sand dunes.

So sure was I that I was alone on this stretch of beach that I nearly walked over the two guys that were lying naked in the valley of a couple of dunes. They were as shocked to see me, I think. I apologised and they said there was no need. Their real names escape me now, so I will call them Gary and Steve.

Gary was in his early thirties with a body covered in thick black hair but with a shaved head. He was of average build. He had a beautiful cock on him that lay across his belly. Steve was almost the opposite – a fat man in his late 50s / early 60s and with virtually no hair on his body at all. His pubic area was totally bald. He also had the tiniest cock that, to this day, I’ve ever seen.

Steve broke the silence that had ensued whilst I studied their bodies and asked “Care to join us?” I needed no further invitation and was soon laying naked next to Gary, with Steve the other side of him.  I think I made some asinine remark about this being an unexpected surprise. With that, Gary reached over and took my cock in his hand and started to wank me off. I saw then that Steve was doing the same to Gary.

Before not too long, Gary and I were kissing and he turned to face me. I was fascinated by his hairy body and soon started kissing his nipples, his belly before taking his cock in my mouth. At first I thought he was thrusting his cock deliberately as I sucked him, but soon realised that Steve was the other side of him fucking him.

Before long, I was sat with Gary behind me, tweaking my nipples and nuzzling my neck, whilst Steve lay full length in front of me sucking me off. The orgasm when I came was intense.

As we were dressing, an idea sprang to me. “What are you doing later?” I asked. Neither was free that evening so we arranged to meet in the hotel bar the following evening. The next day seemed to drag but, sure enough, at the arranged time they turned up. We had a quick drink and then left for my room.

The three of us were naked in no time. Gary kissed me and then lay down on the bed and set about making himself hard. Steve started to suck me off. As Gary’s cock got bigger, I could not resist and soon had my mouth around him. Whilst I was bent over, I felt Steve push his tiny cock into my ass. It went in just enough to pleasure me and he then reached around to cup my balls in his hand. 

Soon, he was fucking me so vigorously that I had to stop sucking Gary. I felt a shudder and the warm ooze of Steve’s come inside me.  I immediately turned Gary over and, working his ass with my fingers and some oil I had purchased earlier in the day, pushed my cock into him. I pinned him face down with my hands holding his wrists as I took my pleasure.

Spent, I collapsed into an armchair and watched Gary fuck Steve. I then realised I was missing out so, once I had gained a little wood, I followed Gary and used his come as a lubricant to fuck Steve.

We all ended up crashed on the bed, kissing each other. I then suggested we shower, as the room had a walk-in one and soon we were bathed in hot water, soaping each other up, and pleasuring ourselves again.

They dressed and left. I know I would never see them again. I had worked up another appetite and went to the hotel restaurant for a slap-up meal and a nice bottle of dry white.

Joan Revisited

I am now 20 ... possibly 19 (the constant trickle of the sands of time have eroded some of my memory) and am working in my father’s business.  Going to University had crossed my mind, but I knew I’d always end up working for my Dad and took the view that learning “on the job” was the best way forward. I started at the bottom, and was shown no favouritism, and thus the initial stigma of being “the boss’s son” soon wore away.

I had a girlfriend, Juliette. A lovely girl who went on to marry a soldier and had about 15 kids (I exaggerate ... she had 4). Juliette was a church-going girl who had firm beliefs that there should be no actual sex before marriage. Fortunately, this ban did not extend to heavy petting (as it was called back then) and I would usually end up coming between her rather delicious breasts.

There had been no other gay interludes, although I had certainly not closed my mind to that happening again. Indeed, I often fantasised about having actual sex with another male.

Sundays followed a similar pattern. Juliette would go to church in the morning, attend a religious group in the afternoon, and then go to evensong. We would meet up about 8.00pm and go for a drink and then back to her flat.  I was still living at home.

My Sundays would normally be spent with mates in the pub at lunchtime, and then the cinema in the afternoon.  However, one Sunday I was walking past Dave’s house on my way to the pub and Joan was stood in their front garden.  She had hit the bottle even harder after her marriage breakdown, especially as she was now effectively living alone with Dave away at Uni. Our previous “experience” was a thing of memory and we had never talked about it. 

Anyway, we chatted a bit, and Joan asked where I was off to. I told her, and she asked “Mind if I come with you?” I had no problem with that as I knew there would be people she knew in the pub. I assumed she just did not want to go in on her own. (It was not the “done thing” for women to go into pubs alone back then).

However, we ended up spending the entire lunchtime drinking and chatting and then she decided to buy some cider to take back.  A couple of mates asked if I was going to the pictures but they all knew I was with Dave’s Mum so no particular eyebrows were raised when I declined. I had already decided that I was going to finish our unfinished business that afternoon.

We walked back to her house and into the kitchen. I decided not to pussyfoot around and, as she put the cider bottle in the fridge, I turned her around, pushed her up against the kitchen units, and kissed her.  She responded immediately, and I soon had my hand up her skirt and was pulling her knickers to one side so that I could get my fingers onto her clit (I had Juliette to thank for teaching me that the clitoris was the way to a woman’s heart)

Almost immediately, she undid my jeans and was having fun with my cock. She then pulled away, took off her panties, hoisted up her skirt, and perched herself on the edge of the kitchen table. I needed no further invitation. I waddled across to her, with my jeans around my ankles, and slid deep into her. As we fucked, I undid her blouse and pushed her bra up so that I could squeeze her tits as I pumped away.

There was no premature ejaculation this time and I felt a great deal of pride when she started to orgasm. I was not wearing any protection and thought about pulling out when I realised I was going to come. Then I thought “fuck it” and exploded inside her.

Soon she was cleaning my cock with her mouth, sucking the last drops of juice from me.

Twenty minutes later, she was again on the table but this time face down. While I fucked her from behind, I started to work my thumb into her ass. She immediately squealed with pleasure so I pushed it in deeper. She came immediately, and so did I

The next couple of years followed a similar pattern, the only breaks coming during Uni holidays. Even then, we would exchange a kiss and a grope whenever Dave was out the room. He knew that I would take him Mum to the pub on Sundays and thought I was a great mate for doing so.

Joan, for her part, taught me so much; how to pleasure a woman with my mouth and tongue; how to perform anal sex without causing pain, and the joys of light bondage and punishment.  However, the drinking had become a real problem and, towards the end, we stopped going to the pub because she started to get a bit loud and, quite frankly, I was never sure whether she would say something to blow our secret.

Juliette, however, finished with me during this period because she believed I was seeing someone else. My mistake was trying out the lessons Joan had taught me with her. I think trying to persuade her that me fucking her up the ass would not be counted as “sex before marriage” was the final straw

Eventually, Dave persuaded his Mum to go into a clinic to treat her, by now, obvious alcoholism. She stayed on the wagon for a couple of years, but sadly had a stroke which incapacitated her so much that she spent her final years in a nursing home. She died a few days after her 52^nd birthday

Norman

It was a complete stroke of luck.  I was definitely 16 at this point, and had just started 6^th Form. Although my parents were pretty generous with pocket money, I had discovered the illicit joys of drinking under age and thus never quite had as much money as I thought I needed.  Dave and I were walking to the bus stop and walked past the local general store. As we walked past, we saw the proprietor, Norman, posting a notice in the window advertising the post of a weekend shop assistant. 

We walked a few steps past the shop when I said to Dave “I’m going back to see if I can have the job”

“You don’t want to work there. He’s queer” said Dave. It was true that that was the rumour that circulated amongst the local kids.  Norman was a bachelor, aged probably in his early 40s, who ran the shop with his mother. He was extremely camp in his mannerisms and speech – a very dapper man with heavily Brylcreemed hair.

“Its money, Dave” I said. Dave already had a Saturday job at this time at our local Woolworths.  I turned back and said “Can I have the job, Norman?” He said he could not see why not – “You’re a respectable boy” and said I was to start on Saturday and see how I got on.

I’d been working there about a month when, as we were closing on the Saturday, Norman asked if I wanted to have a beer before I went home. I did. We went upstairs to the living area and he poured me a can of pale ale. He lit up a cigarette and asked if I wanted one. I did - I’d been smoking since I was 14.

We chatted away about various customers who had been in the shop while I drank my beer and then I left.

The next day, Sunday, we did the same thing after work but this time I noticed there were a couple of nudie magazines on the table – Mayfair, if I remember correctly.  Norman saw me looking at them and said I could take them home if I wanted.

When I took them back the following Saturday, they were both well-thumbed. That evening, he gave me a magazine - a foreign one - that showed couples fucking and sucking. I had never seen such pornography before and my erection was obvious. It was at that point that Norman reached for my fly, unzipped me, and took my cock from my shorts

He brought me off as I stood at the table, and my come splattered the pages of the mag. As soon as I was spent, a feeling of utter disgust, shame and embarrassment overcame me. I did myself up and practically ran from the shop.

I did not go into work the next day and even took a different route to the bus stop to avoid passing the shop. By Wedneday, though, my feelings of excitement, of actually wanting to do it again, overcame me. I went into the shop to apologise for not going in Sunday. Norman said he understood and would pay me. He asked if I had told anyone. I said I had not. I then told him that the next time, I wouldn't run.

Half an hour later, we were both naked and bringing each other off. I was very surprised that my cock was actually bigger than his.  The next night he sucked me off for the first time, I reciprocated and discovered a love of the taste of semen that I still have today

We never went did more than mutual masturbation and oral sex. There was never any kissing or cuddling. Our "relationship" went on for nine months until Norman told me that he was selling the shop because his mother wanted to move to London to be near her mother. Three weeks later, I was working for the new owners, the first Indian family I'd ever met.