Darling James by Tinnean

Author:Tinnean
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw, mobi
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2015-11-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

One of the reasons I tried to avoid strong pain killers was the vivid sex dreams. For some reason I would always relive the night just before I’d joined the Royal Marines.

I’d prepared myself before I’d gone out for the evening. I knew that night would have to last me for many years, so I was shagging and being shagged by anyone who was interested, even taking a cock up the arse and another down my throat at the same time, which was something I’d never done.

But I had enough sense not to let them take me on the snooker table in plain sight of the whole pub.

I was pleased when the muscular, leather-jacketed bloke agreed to go out the back with me. He kept fidgeting, and stupidly I thought it was because he wasn’t used to looking for a shag in a queer pub. Maybe he was even a virgin, and I’d be his first.

I dropped trou, braced against the wall, and spread my legs, my arse angled up, ready and willing.

“I seen ya come out ’ere with all t’others. Y’er a whore, ain’tcha?” He shoved into me. He was rough, but the crowd I ran with didn’t have much time for finesse, and I was used to rough.

“D’you mind, mate?” Some blokes liked to talk like that. I didn’t like to hear it; I’d got enough of that from the Old Bat, being told I was a useless, worthless bastard.

“You like this, do ya, havin’ m’ cock up yer arse?” he growled in my ear as he came in a very short space of time. I’d have been mortified if I’d climaxed that quickly without seeing to my partner’s pleasure.

“Well, it would have been better if you’d seen I had a good time as well.” I reached for my cock, about to take care of it myself.

He pulled out of me abruptly enough for it to sting.

“Oi!”

“Fuckin’ shirt lifter!”

From the corner of my eye I saw his fist coming, and I ducked. It swung harmlessly over my head. If the blow had landed, it would have sent me slamming against the wall, no doubt breaking my nose and cracking my skull as well. I came up under it and punched him in the face, and then in the gut, knocking him off his feet.

“Ya broke by dose!” He was upset. “Nancy boys don’ fight back!”

“This one does, mate. You’d better shift yourself.” I kept my distance as I pulled my jeans back up over my hips. “I’m passing the word ’round to my mates, and if they catch you here again, a broken nose won’t be all you’ll have to worry about.”

He vanished into the night, swearing nasally, and I limped back into the pub, intent on finding someone else to shag.

This time, though, I was dreaming of James, in glorious Technicolor and Sensurround, that sound system the Yanks had come up with a few years before. Scent was involved as well—that aftershave James favoured—and touch. I was immobile, on my back, and James loomed over me.

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