In The Pillbox


“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” my man Evan asked me. It was a fantastic location. A veritable desert strand of a beach, a beautiful headland, and nearby a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), or Safleoedd o Ddiddordeb Gwyddonol Arbennig (SoDdGA) as they say here in Wales! The tide was out, but the salty smell of the ocean was still in the summer air, and the song of the gulls echoed all around. Rather incongruously, there were a couple of concrete pillboxes along the beach. Obviously relics of WW2 rather than the Cold War, they had seen better days. Indeed, the shifting sands had meant both concrete structures were well out of true level. We made our way towards the larger pillbox, and a small gang of teenagers rushed away as we approached. Perhaps the sight of two leather-clad istanbul escort bikers walking hand in hand gave them the willies? No matter, I always think an absent teenager is an ideal teenager. We ducked as we made our way into the pillbox. Guys must have been shorter in those days, I told myself. The octagonal interior of the little concrete building was a little disconcerting at first. Piles of sand had encroached quite a lot, but there was just about sufficient height for us to be able to stand. The place smelt a bit of piss, of course. These places always do! There were beer cans – local bitter, strangely – and empty Sterling fag packets. Someone must have bought a job lot! “Well?” he asked again, somewhat impatiently, “Are you thinking what I’m istanbul escort bayan thinking?” “Yes, I think so!” I laughed, “This would be a great place for a seedy fuck!” “Yes, dead right it would be, loverboy! And for some discipline too! No room to swing a cane, but we could bring the leather strap,” he laughed as he said it, “Hot and well-shagged bottoms tonight! Here, take this plastic bag and clean the place up, boy! We don’t want any accidents or incidents while we’re on the job do we?” It wasn’t a particularly pleasant task. In the end the bag contained tin cans, fag packets, some broken glass and even a human turd. I tied the handles up tight and we took the bag with us, depositing it in the bin in the car park where Evan’s Triumph Bonneville Escort istanbul awaited us. That evening we packed my backpack excitedly. A can of Carlsberg for me, an energy drink for him. A packet of heavy duty condoms and a tube of our favourite lube. A couple of battery torches and our mobiles. Finally, pride of place for our brown leather spanking strap. We both enjoyed a bit of the leather from time to time, although I was the sub more often than not. I felt quite excited as we headed back to the beach. The vibrations from the engine of the Bonneville throbbed around my thighs as my cock stiffened inside my leather chaps. I held onto Evan for dear life as he threw us around the corners of the long, winding coastal road. This time we parked near our chosen pillbox. We kissed passionately at length before he led me back through the brambles to our venue. It was now late evening and fortunately, no-one else was around. We flashed our torches to examine our surroundings again. I moved some fresh cans and crisp packets out of harm’s way. The place stank of piss even more than earlier on.

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir