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From: sista_shakespeare@my-dejanews.com
Subject: {ASS} Sista Shakespeare:Golden Mile1 (M/F Oral)
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 Disclaimer: The following story contains material intended for adults
only. That is people over the age of consent in whatever country they happen
to live.

 All comments welcome - sista_shakespeare@my-dejanews.com





                                 Golden Mile

  Another sun-drenched day, but now the late afternoon sun's turning fiery
red as it sinks in the sky. Sticky, humid, my skin feels hot, grimy under my
fingertips. Looking down at my bare arms in the last orange light of the
setting sun, I'm amazed by how brown I've turned since the beginning of the
week. The blended aroma of hot-dogs; candyfloss and the acrid electrical tang
of the rides bathe me in weary contentment. Fifties' rock'n'roll blares.
"Dook ... dook ... dook of Earl. Da-da da da-da..."

  I need a shower, I'm starving, but first I've got to find her. Stupid
minah! how ken you get lost at this time of the evening? I stroll slowly
along the main path of the funfair staring into each knot of people,
expecting at any moment to see her gawking round some ride or other, her
wings of raven hair dangling. While I'm busy scanning the far corners of the
park for her, a small boy smacks into me covering my sarung with candyfloss.
Distracted, scrubbing at the sticky smear, the tissue falls apart, shreds
sticking to the material. Disgusted, I swear and look up...

  He's tall, about six feet, lean and wiry, with well-defined muscles rather
than muscle-bound. Good features, but a little rugged and short dirty-blonde
hair with a slight curl at the back of his neck. He's wearing cutoffs and a
Levi shirt. "Nice legs." I think to myself. He's staring, a small smile on
his lips. Despite myself I smile back, turning away with a fleeting notion
that he's still watching me. I twist my hips slightly with each step, letting
the sarung flow and undulate...

  My cell-phone purrs and I head for the entrance to Peter Pan's Playground;
flicking the phone open as the noise of the amusements recedes behind me. I
know it's her. "Uy ... mula." She tells me happily, and without a twinge of
conscience, that she's in a nightclub called Tots with some people we met
earlier. "Come on, don say me wan...?"

 "No Fuck off gagu!" I tell her, knowing that she's probably going to get
drunk and throw up in the car again.

  Piqued and with a couple of hours to kill, I wander out of the park, along
the Golden Mile towards Satteri's Fishbar. Soon, clutching my fake newspaper
full of hot crispy scampi and feeling a little lost; I'm threading my way
through the crowds of meandering day-trippers. Coloured lights blink and
fluorescent tubes flicker in time to a babble of electronic and human
dissonance. An engine rumbles and spits close behind me. I turn to watch a
peppermint green Escort cruise slowly by. Loud, low slung, with huge arches
and gleaming wheels; it oozes menace ... A blast of Wilko Johnston from the
stereo turns the heads that didn't turn at the first crackle of its engine. I
kinda like Dr. Feelgood ... It's East London Macho: the soundtrack to Flash
'Arry's dreams of sun, speed and sex.

"...Wanna 'ear her moan when I get 'er alone...
When the action starts she says ... "I gotta go 'ome"

She's a windup, windup...
          She's a windup, windup...
                    She's a windup, windup, windup...

For I'd say okay but they don mean what they say..."

  Another old Ford, a gleaming yellow Mexico, swings out of a side street and
streaks past with a shattering six-cylindered roar. I can't help grinning
'coz I learned to drive in one just like that. - Yeah! Been there, done
that... Suddenly, I'm giggling out loud. Remembering my guy and his mates.
"...Girls come 'n go; a sharp car goes on fer eva..."  If the Escort wasn't a
quarter of a mile down the road now, I'd be yelling, "Uy... 'Arry big
button!" when what I really mean is; "Gerek-lah lu."-- Okay, I'm a car-slag.

  Passing Peter Pan's, still bubbling with barely suppressed delight, I see
the guy again, sitting on a bench outside drinking Coke. Lean, boyish, though
he must be thirty-something... I think I like yalah. He catches me looking
and pauses, can halfway to his lips. From twenty feet away our eyes meet and
my insides squirm in an agonizing blend of fear and anticipation. My heart
beats a fraction faster, a little dart of excitement courses through my
veins. Before I can stop myself, I'm walking into the fairground right past
him and I'm swinging my hips ... "What are you doing?" The small sensible
part of my brain inquires, but my body quivers in anticipation of a little
adventure.

  Clutching a sheet of tickets, I join the queue for the rollercoaster,
sipping still cold Fanta, glancing around. I know he's out there somewhere
but it's not easy to pick out one denim-clad man in a crowd of hundreds.
Shuffling towards the wooden steps, as I gulp the last of my drink, I spy him
towards the back of the queue. "'Tang 'na!" A little shudder of desire tweaks
me down there. I squeeze myself against the rail and let two families push
past me, filling a whole car. I'm three or four from the front; near the top
of the steps when the attendant closes the gate and the cars whir and rattle
past. He's now only ten or twelve feet and twenty people behind me.

  Watching the cars crawl slowly upwards, almost fading into the dusk before
plunging down the far side of the track, I imagine the fright and physical
disorientation; the need to cling and burrow into the arms of someone strong
and friendly. A barrage of shrieks and screams from the occupants of the cars
rises above the thundering roar of the wheels as they plummet down the far
side. Then as the cars vanish from sight for a few seconds before looping
back though the last few bends and humps, I turn and there he is; a few feet
away, head to one side looking in my direction. I let my eyes glide over his
body and face, brazen with the tingling thrill of my imaginings. He smiles
and our eyes meet; his are soft, brown and unblinking. I feel the damp sheen
of perspiration rise on my palms a second or so before the first gentle wave
of arousal tweaks my nipples and tugs at my insides.

  I slouch on the still warm vinyl of the seat, my heart thumping as I watch
him cross the boardwalk. I'm terrified that he'll sit somewhere else.
Fighting the urge to put my hand up to my face and touch my nose, an awful
habit, I smile radiantly, catching his eyes as he begins to lower himself
onto the seat beside me. I let my gaze linger. He's bigger than I'd realised
and tanned tawny-brown. He gives me a little nod and says quietly, casually;
"I hope you don't mind?"

  Wow Cubao! An American! A Kano! I reach across him holding out the six
tickets before he's begun to tear his own from the sheet, then ignoring him,
retreat to the furthermost corner of the tiny seat. The ride attendant pulls
the safety bar down forcing me to sit straight, my shoulder and thigh so
tantalizingly, terrifyingly close to his, I dare not breathe.

  As the cars lurch and groan into motion I wedge one grubby, tangerine
coloured trainer against the body of the car, bracing myself against the
jolting and bumping. The first banked turn throws me against him; a momentary
feeling of warmth and solidity before the tilting track pulls us apart and
presses us down in our seats again. The climb is slow. I look down at the
teeming crowds of people in the fairground below; the strings of coloured
lights and strobing florescent bars of warm pink, violet, golden yellow and
garish green. As the car crawls the last few feet to the top, I surrender to
the throbbing lethargy, enjoying the moist tingling in my belly, pulse
twitching at my wrists. His left arm is in his lap; the other stretched out
holding the side of the car. He turns and we share a long sloe-eyed glance,
embarrassing in its intensity, before I touch his arm, slipping under it,
snuggling into his warmth an instant before the car topples.

  "Aieeeeeeeee!" .... Free-fall, wet and dizzy... insides twisting and
churning. I scream my lungs out, clinging to him; senses filled with the
scent of his skin, with the soft noise of his breathing and the fast beat of
his heart through the thin warm cotton of his shirt. He rests his hand on my
head, pressing lightly as we rise over the next twisting section. My own hand
and eyes on his thighs, hypnotised by the bulge in his shorts. The track
twists and turns throwing us in all directions as I snuggle against him, my
fingers itching to explore. His arms hold me lightly against him as the car
slows to a halt. He clambers out; all tanned knees and elbows like a giant
spider. His hands close around my waist, lifting me from the car like a
child. Standing beside me, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement,
he introduces himself.

  The lie comes easily. "I'm Jinneč, like in magic lamp." I say, in my best
Ingrish accent. He nods uncertainly as I take his hand and lead him across
the short distance to the 'Whiplash' ride. As soon as the motion starts I
curve my body against his, clinging, fingers tracing the contours of his
muscles, lips brushing his, opening to taste his probing tongue. The
eccentric motion of the ride and the closeness of him combine in a dizzy
whirl of pleasure that flickers over my pearl like a hot mouth. His hand on
my breast feels just right. I press my own hand over the back of his,
moulding it tight, crushing myself against him, gasping as the ride ends.

  "We go here." I point to the queue for the Ferris wheel. We stand arms
around each other's waists. My heart beats quicker; blood surges faster and
faster through my veins, a hot torrent, making my desire a hot throbbing
compulsion I want to feel his mouth on mine again. He talks as we shuffle
forwards. I nod and look interested though I'm thinking other thoughts while
the wheel fills; one car at a time. It's almost full when I step into the
gently swaying gondola. Twitching with excitement as he clambers in behind
me, I take his hand in mine, nuzzling the warm, fragrant skin of his forearm.
As the door closes and the cage rises out of view of those below, we kiss.

  My arms around his neck, slick and tender with desire, I pull myself onto
his lap feeling the hardness of his erection against my thigh. His lips are
moist and warm. His tongue slips and twines around my own, I feel the
familiar warm tingling deep inside. The sensual haze sending urgent shivers
through me from throat to inner thighs. The gondola jerks and sways again, as
my fingers tug at his shorts. His rising cock pushes the worn zip open as
soon as I release the fastener at his waist, filling my hand with hot
throbbing stiffness. My fingertips trace the velvet contours of it as I
loosen the buttons of my choli, letting him see my breasts with their little
brown buttons of desire aching to be touched.

  As the Ferris wheel starts his hand curls around a smooth silky curve and I
kiss him again. Teeth closing, nipping on the soft skin of his lips then
soothing them with a slow swipe of my tongue. His fingers and thumbs fold
around my swollen teats, rolling, twisting them, and sending a huge bolt of
tingling lust straight through the center of me. As I slip onto the hard
wooden seat beside him I feel the heat and moisture between my thighs
spreading. He lifts his bum as I tug the shorts lower, my head against his
chest feeling it rise and fall rapidly as I stroke and squeeze. Adjusting my
grip on his straining cock, I squirm against him, whispering.

 "Take me to the beach and fuck me... I want your big stiff cock inside me.
You *do* wanna fuck me?"

  His cock jumps. I feel the energy pulse as if he was already inside me. My
hand blurs in a frenzy of smooth rhythmic motion. His grasp on my breast
tightens and his hips move in time with the short hard strokes of my fingers.
Through the electric confusion of my excitement I wonder if I'm going to have
time to make him come before the ride's over. I pile it on...

"Come in my mouth Jake. Let me taste it. I'm going to swallow."

  I feel the cool sheen of sweat rise on his hot skin and the trembling of
his muscles as he nears the final few seconds. His fingers dig hard into my
breasts as he shudders, arching his back. I lower my head and moisten my
lips, letting the spit drop onto the bloated purple-red knob of his cock. The
gondola rocks violently as I slip of the bench to kneel between his knees.
His fingers slide through my hair gripping handfuls of it as my outstretched
tongue glides over the silken flare of his knob. The hot salty tang of his
unfamiliar cock, the essence of its scent and flavour, oozes into my
consciousness as the thickness of it pushes into my mouth. Both hands on the
veined shaft, I stroke hard downward and let the tumescent thickness glide
back through the fluttering circles of my fingers. My tongue swirls and
flickers, my head bobbing forward to engulf a mouthful of hot throbbing cock
every third or fourth thrust. He moans; his hands tighten in my hair as I
grip him hard just beneath the rim of the helmet; pulling the loose skin
tightly downwards. I rub my palm in a tight-frenzied circle across the
sensitive tip of his knob. He squirms and jerks; an ecstatic groan explodes
from his lips as a few firm strokes of my deft fingers pump the first torrent
of jism out of him. My mouth full with piquant flavour, I bob forward,
letting him thrust into my throat until I begin to gag. As the last surge of
his orgasm fades away, I look up at him eyes wide, a little girl with a
lolly. The Ferris wheel stops, leaving us suspended at the very top and he
inhales deeply, smiling down at me.

We're still entwined kissing passionately a few minutes later as the attendant
opens the door of the cage. I give him a cheerful grin, my mouth still greasy
with my love's exquisite juices...




                         <><><> Več May '98 <><><>

When I wrote this I was thinking about Southend-on-sea, Essex but almost every
seaside town everywhere has its 'Golden Mile'

*"Uy...Mula" - Lit."What? begin!" Just about the rudest way to answer a phone.

*Harry big button - Means cheap, vulgar. Guaranteed to offend guys with
painstakingly rebuilt 25yr old cars.

* Gerek-lah lu - So cool you (are)!






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