Fucking In The Alley – Permed Hair And A Full Bush

In tribute to tonight’s season finale of Ashes To Ashes here’s a little piece of fiction to send all of us who remember what it was like back to the decade that was exciting, un-self-conscious and vivacious.

The 1980s!

A lemon yellow polo shirt, light blue jacket, white trousers, deck shoes and a pair of big rimless sunglasses. Stop laughing, no really you can stop laughing we all dressed like that back then. Well we did if we weren’t into rock. That was later for me, black jeans, studded belts, aversion to razors and long hair that smelled of Newcastle Brown, fried food and cigarettes.

She on the other hand was every inch the rock-chick. In fact there were quite a few inches to her. 5’6″ to be precise, slim and with long dark hair. And her eyes, her eyes were captivating, blue-green and dancing with tiny fires from deep within her soul. A wave of patchouli washed over me when she walked past, making me blind and deaf to the friends around me, making me turn and watch her as she walked away.

She cast a glance over her shoulder and wiggled her hips provocatively making her hippy-chick skirt sway. The clip-clop of the boots she wore under the ankle-length dress marked out the yards as she receded into the distance and out of my life.

I felt the sharp prod of Daren’s finger in my side. “What do you think Alex?” night club or another pub.

“Erm, pub.” I said, trying to remember where the rockers hung out. “The Black Swan”

“What?” Was the general response from my assembled friends. “That’s a fucking dive. And full of hippies.”

“It’ll make a change.” I said, defending my choice, conscious it was the place she’d most likely be.

Grudgingly they followed me and ten minutes later we were drinking Guiness and Cider in the “Mucky Duck” as the pub was affectionately known.

I left my friends complaining and arguing in a good-natured fashion with the metal fans about why the jukebox didn’t have anything by the Human League to see if I could spot her.

It took me a while, but in a back room I found her in the throng around the pool table. I looked at her just a little too long and she noticed, returning my gaze. I looked away and realised I didn’t know what to say. Then I noticed she was with her boyfriend. He slipped his arm round her for a moment, but then the black went down and it was his turn on the table so she was standing alone again as he racked up the balls for his game.

She walked towards me. My stomach was in my mouth. She didn’t make eye contact and I thought I’d blown it. Then as she passed she paused for a moment, discretely squeezed my hand and in a breathy whisper said “Follow me outside in a minute or two.”

A minute can be defined in seconds and seconds by the number of transition states of a caesium atom in an atomic clock, all very accurate. So why do some minutes last for hours?

Eventually I decided the two minutes had elapsed and I slipped into the alley behind the pub. She was silhouetted in the light of a single yellow sodium streetlight. The makeup round her eyes making them even more dark and inviting. Her lips glistened and called me to kiss them.

But first we talked, to a soundtrack of AC/DC. I found out her name, she found out mine. She was with her boyfriend but wasn’t sure he was going to have that status much longer. She didn’t like my clothes, but liked my face. She thought she knew me from school, but we were from opposite sides of town. She liked rock, obviously, but I was into electro-pop.

Then we discovered what we did have in common; We wanted to fuck. We wanted to fuck each other.

I pushed her against the wall, and she liked it. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and I could taste Pernod and blackcurrant. I could feel her boobs against my chest I know she could feel my hard cock pressing into her stomach. I grabbed her head and pressed her lips to mine. I could feel her hands grabbing at my belt.

I slid my hands down her front, pushing her away, getting just a brief grope of her boobs before I helped her release my cock. She grabbed it with one hand and stroked the skin up and down its length. Then she held it and gently wanked me while I hitched up her skirt.

Unsighted I reached under the folds of material and sought out her knickers so I could pull them down, but found only an exposed, hairy bush. I stopped and looked her in the eye. “Naughty!” I admonished.

“Oh, yes” she replied.

She gasped, then laughed as I pushed her onto a window ledge and slid into her wet, fragrant pussy. Her sweet-smelling arousal had been accumulating under her long skirt and now surrounded us both in a cloud of sexually charged chemicals.

We didn’t kiss as I fucked her. We simply stared at each other and enjoyed the delicious friction and sloshing sounds that emanated from her excited cunt. She grabbed my shoulders and I knew she was about to come. Only then did she pull me close again and hold me tight as my orgasm exploded in response to hers and I filled her with cum.

~~~

By Sunday afternoon Saturday’s hangover was receding and I drove my battered mini across town to pick up a mate. I stopped at some lights and a biker pulled up beside me on his V-Twined hog.

He nodded to me as I indicated he should set off first when the lights changed. Then his pillion passenger looked at me and with a wink and a knowing smile made my day.