Just like Magic Part 2 - The long way back - Sex Stories

Just like Magic Part 2 - The long way back

... and before long only the unobjectionable sound of BBC Radio 2 cut through the hum of the engine and occasional shriek of sirens. It was a long way though, often through twisty back streets, and the man had no sat nav. I had to trust in the supposedly legendary knowledge of black cab drivers, God knows after the first ten minutes I had lost all sense of direction. Even with light traffic it took over an hour before I started to recognise the dilapidated grandeur of Gloriana Road and knew that the theatre was nearby. Not wanting anyone to know exactly where I was going I told the cabby to stop. To my credit I hardly even considered paying with a strip tease this time, and I didn't need to with Katrina's money. Forking over a frankly unreasonable number of notes I slipped out of the taxi and smothered a curse as my poor blistered feet were forced to take my weight yet again. It was still hours before dawn and on the long drive I had decided I didn't want to arrive in the dead of night. It was too much like last time and I needed a fresh start here. Katrina's coat was warm, warm as my old dad's, and it wasn't raining. Still I didn't relish the idea of waiting around outside for hours on end. Still I started walking, just around the surrounding streets, to keep my self warm and for something to do. That's how I spotted the little café, it was two streets down from the theatre and unlike the Regency it didn't look like it had ever seen better days. I couldn't imagine it ever ...

... looking like anything other than a thirty year old greasy spoon, it had probably opened with dirty windows and fag ends in the ash trays. It did open early though. On my second loop round the empty streets, around half three at a guess, the light flicked on. Coat or no coat it was bitter cold and my feet hurt, I approached the light and pushed the door open to find a surprised and grumpy middle aged woman. She was obviously not expecting any custom just yet but money was money. My mouth was dry and a hangover was threatening. My stomach rumbled to remind me that I had eaten nothing but cum for over twenty hours. A large mug of tea and a full english were ordered. I settled down to watch the sun rise. Tea and food helped the hangover, and caffeine was a blessed relief, but it was a tired and nervous young woman who rose from her table several hours later and stepped out into the street once again. “Right,” I muttered to myself, “time to meet my maker,”. A few early birds were out in the street, probably on their way to work, I ignored them and they ignored me. By daylight the Regency was far less impressive than at night. The soaring columns were still there, the iconic half crown above the door, but missing tiles and graffiti robed it of its grandeur. Moving past it I set eyes on the adjoining hotel. It was also called the Regency, it had been built and owned by the same people as the theatre back when this district was rich enough to warrant either. Like the theatre it was a ...