Pulling in it was the old story, lots of old guys, boy racers and posers! Argh! I sat for ages turning away dirty old men until at about one in the morning, as I was planning to leave, a car pulled up. The driver, a middle aged chap, but not bad looking, wound down his window and lit a cigarette. I got out and walked past. He was obviously doing something and that got me a little hornier! I stopped at the end of the layby and lit my own fag watching him.The layby was now empty and he got out and leaned on his car. I could see the bulge in his jeans and my own cock began to swell. I walked up and we smiled. He stood and pulled me into a long kiss. My legs quivered as his toungue darted into my mouth I disgarded my fag and rubbing my hardness on his I kissed back before dropping to my knees and opening his jeans. His cock sprang out as I pulled them down, mmm big, hard and shining with precum! Lovely. I licked my lips and sank my mouth over its head, sucking, knibbling and licking. He. I took her hands in mine and our eyes spoke before our mouths ever opened. She wasn't afraid, wasn't horrified or disgusted, I could see that easily. A knot I hadn't realized was in my chest loosened. How much I had expected for her to turn on her heel and run if she ever were to find out, but here she sat and waited patiently for me to explain. I took the longest breath of my life. This was it. I'd held my cards close to my chest for so long, afraid to show what I'd been holding. Carrie's silence urged me on, a silence I felt I could fall into like an embrace, a silence that waited to accept me. It was strange to realize how much I suddenly wanted to lay my cards on the table and tell the world about the hand I'd been dealt. “What is... all this?” She started the words for me, her fingers gingerly touching the gel in my hair, falling to trace down the tie on my chest. Her eyes passed over the suit I wore, lingering on places that were no longer familiar. “My name is Annelle,” I.
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