My last Gay experience - Sex Stories

My last Gay experience

... barmaid asked. "I'm getting a new van," he said. "Really?" Tasha said as she brought our drinks over and bent down to show her 38 DD cleavage, "Sandra said she wanted you to give her one in that red miniskirt but you wouldn't!" "Behave!" Al insisted. "I would have," I says, Tasha was a real knockout, not film star material, but Pippa Middleton's ass, Katie Price's knockers and Ann Widdicomb's face, and you don't look at the face do you? "Would you Johnno," she says, "Well you come in here with a red miniskirt on and nothing else and you can screw me on the pool table." "No ta," I said, "It's rough enough already, slopes one way as it is." "He's gone queer," she confided and she wandered away which pissed me off as I hated bints playing hard to get. We had a bit of a think, "Fucking queers need straightening out," 'Chalky' Blackburn announced suddenly. "What's that Chalky?" I asked. "Fucking tarts on the NHS for queers," Chalky said, "You ought to say about that at Council Johnno." "What?" I asked. "Make them screw tarts till they're cured," Al translated from complete bollocks to Al speak, "Sounds like a plan." "On the NHS?" I asked. "No get Sandra to do it," Al explained, "She complains she gets cold waiting for punters outside Timothy Whites and that." Old Sinbad comes over, I never knew his proper name, his lot had the corner shop up Hebden Road, "How you going to do that?" he asks, "There are not enough prostitutes for everyone anyway." "Put some of your lot on the game?" ...

... Chalky said. "All right behave," I said before Sinbad could smack him, "How about it Al, how about a bit of forced fucking?" "You can't make them fuck women?" Al said, "Can you?" "Up the ass with a strap on for a kick off," I suggested. "Fucking right," Al said, "Here Sandra ordered this huge fucking strap on from Amsterdam, got her inches and meters fucked up, fucking huge it is!" "Tonight?" I asked. "Fucking Band's playing at St Giles," Al apologised, "Sorry." "Tomorrow then?" I asked. "Footie on the box," we settled on Thursday. Thursday came and we met up after Band practice around ten, Me, Al, Sandra, Harley Charlie and Big Norman, Chalky and Sinbad bottled it but we had enough. Al brought the van round, christ you should have seen it, like something out of the eighties, wide arches on a van? a Ford Transit, V6 engine, petrol, two gallons to the mile and four to a pint of oil. "Where did you get this crap heap from?" I asked. "Ebay," he said, "It's a classic, look I got a king size mattress inside." He had but it was bent up at the sides but there was a seat in the back, one if them wood ones from a garden centre screwed down with wood screws. We piled in, Norman in front on account of his size, the rest of us in the back, but at least the seat faced backwards, so we wasn't going to fly off when we crashed. "You got the tools?" I asked. "Sledge hammer, and you got the drill?" Al replied. "Strap on?" I asked and Sandra pointed to the oversize handbag she was carrying and ...