Sorry I Came

A short story that may or may not be included in my future writing. A true account of what happened on a work related trip to Grimsby. Do not be read of easily offended.

Life on the road as a Crane Operator is not for everyone. It’s long hours driving and visiting some of the roughest and most deprived areas of the country, but that is why I love it. That and it gives you plenty of time to drink. No police officer wants to stop a Mobile Crane. They assume that everyone running around in these death traps are sober, of sound mind and checked on by their employers regularly. This although true to many is not always the case. Not a career, it suits the individual who needs his own space, can’t work in teams and generally has a disgust for most people who consider themselves “hard working”, “motivated or “career orientated.

  I have always been attracted to the filth and grime that only a small fishing town in the UK can deliver. The women in these places are always ready to pounce on the newest man in town. The beer is cheap and the entertainment is second to none. Who doesn’t want to see two horrendous women covered in crap tattoos throw their infant children to their junky partners so they can go at each other like wild dogs? Not me, I thrive and feed on this stuff. Its raw, its real and for the majority of the people in these small towns this daily bustle of insult and assault has become the norm. I have travelled far and wide across this country. I have snorted and fucked in some of the filthiest pub toilets on this earth. My eyes have witnessed and I myself have partaken is some truly vile acts but nothing, nothing is quite like the town of Grimsby and what goes on in this s**t stained corner of the UK.

The first thing you notice is the smell. As you drive east on the A180 you smell what seems like fish and chips. A Great British classic that is enjoyed now and again by the rest of the country but for the average Grimbarian, this along with strong tinned lager has become a staple. As you get closer to the sea the smell gets stronger but you no longer notice the chips, just the fish. It is everywhere and has been around for so long the locals have become accustomed to it.

I parked up and entered the hotel, it was silent, so silent I felt intimidated. As I looked around the reception I couldn’t help but feel I was in the plot of a movie where one by one guests are killed off by a crazy hotel owner.

“Be with you in just a second darling” came from nowhere, I looked around trying to locate the voice when a small older lady came from a back room and walked behind the desk. I let out a snigger as I noticed how defenceless and distant she was compared to what I had perceived just seconds earlier. I checked in, went to my room to drop off my bag and as always walked into the heart of the town to behold what was on offer. Whilst walking I unearthed what I would deem a good pub. There stood outside two skinny middle-aged men both wearing sweat pants and old tattered trainers, both smoking rolled up cigarettes. The outside of the pub looked weathered and showed the strains of its age and use. This establishment clearly held just as many stories as it did secrets, secrets that only the closest of patrons knew about but rarely talked of, especially to an outsider like me. I walked in and went straight to the bar.

“Pint of Pride please mate”

The barkeep looked at me for a second then fetched a glass in pure silence. I looked around first scanning for exits and windows. This had become the norm for me since being besieged and battered by the local populous of Stoke-on-Trent. One entrance, one fire exit around the corner and a row of windows looking onto the alley behind me. My drink arrived and I took a seat at the bar.

“£3.10 mate” I paid the man and scoped again, this time looking for characters. Four young guys playing darts loudly in the corner, three older, wiser, disgruntled men sat silently at the bar and an oddball couple sat behind a table containing two pints of half empty Lager and a bag full of what seemed to be loose change.

I tried to make conversation with the barkeeper.

“This your pub then?”

“Not yet, you not from around here then southerner?”

“Nope, just here for work”

“Doesn’t look like you are doing much work”

This guy clearly had an attitude problem so I decided to only engage in conversation when my glass was dry. Pint after pint went down until that feeling hit, the feeling we get when we drink and why we drink. The safe place it takes you too where everyone can be your friend and you’re everyone’s friend alike. It’s a place you only understand when consumed by it and a place that a teetotal being cannot begin to fathom. 

***

There is a wall. A wall that holds drinkers on one side and non-drinkers on the other. Most people live close to the wall and go over once in a while at the weekend to forget about their tiring monotonous life but will stay away mid-week as to conform to society. Sober people will occasionally catch a glimpse over the wall on a Wednesday afternoon and be disgusted at what they see, but drunks looking back will quite happily wave and engage in conversation that will make the sober people feel uncomfortable.

The wall, we can quite easily fall off if not careful. If Strong spirits are added to the party one word can cause a myriad of emotions including violence, sorrow, arousal and occasionally prolific visions of art and creativeness. The guys that go over usually end up Multi award winning writers, f*****g a fat drunken mess or in hospital bleeding. usually the later. tonight however, it would be the fat drunken mess for me.

After many hours drinking and observing, the couple sat behind me had gone through the bag of change and now had just a few silver and copper coins stacked up in neat piles.

“We only have enough for one more pint” I heard him say

“That’s okay, we can just pour it into these glasses and have half each” she said.

“I think you should let me have it”

“Why the f**k should you have it?”

Myself and the older guys propped against the bar listened attentively while casually staring into the amber liquid masking our true interest in what was unravelling behind.

“Buy your own f*****g drinks then you b***h” I listened as he got up and walked away, door slamming behind him. I sat looking into the amber goodness for a while waiting for a reaction, but to my surprise she got up, walked over to the bar ordered a pint of Lager and asked what I was drinking.

“I’ll have an Ale please” she reached inside her top and pulled a £20 note from between her long sweaty tit and white cotton bra.

“Your fella not happy with you then?” I said trying to make the situation less awkward.

“Him, he’s a dick, f**k him and he’s not my boyfriend” she said with a strong northern accent.

“Well thanks for the drink, I’m Tony by the way” I extended a hand but she looked at me dumbfounded like this was abnormal to her kind. She eventually reached out and took grasp of my hand with a cold and lethargic grip.

“Poppy, so, you not from around here then?”

“No just here for work”

“Oh really, doesn’t look like you’re doing much work. Why don’t you come sit down and talk to me” she said with a hint of smut in her voice.

“Okay” I stood up and caught the eye of the nearest patron to me, he sniggered with a slight nod of the head as I picked my drink and followed her to the table.

We sat for a while and talked. She had 3 children but her mother looked after them most of the time. She lived in a flat provided by the tax payer. She smoked Super King Size cigarettes and drank cheap lager all payed for by the tax payer. She wore knock off fur boots, leggings and a tight black top that showed the curves and strains of a woman with particular high mileage. It was not what I would usually aim for but with a quick glance around the pub I realised it was either this creature or beating off into the towels in my hotel room. She talked to much and I wasn’t really registering what she was talking about. Something about society and how some people have the easy road and so on. So, I cut her off mid speech.

 “How far from here do you live then” I asked out of nowhere.

“Not far, about 5 minutes’ walk, you hungry?

I looked at her with a small smile and stood up. Without saying a word, she followed suite, placed a grey stonewashed hoody over her head and walked out of the bar. As I followed her out I caught the Barmen with an eye. He laughed while shaking his head side to side. He had clearly seen this scenario pan out before him on multiple occasions.

We eventually got into her place and immediately she came at me like a ram engaging its target at pace. The breath was vile and the skin cold yet clammy. I had to get this over with quickly. I undid my belt and pulled down my jeans then grabbed her neck to pull her away from me.

“Get that f*****g top off” I said aggressively. She looked at me for a split second but I maintained an aggressive eye. Under heavy breathing she took off her hoody and looked back into my eyes.

“Come here” I said as I grabbed my now semi hard c**k pulling the loose skin back and forth. She came toward me and gently pushed me on the sofa. As I fell backward she came down to her knees, grabbed my shaft and slowly rocked her hand back and forth inspecting the size and shape for a few seconds before she engulfed the head with her wet warm mouth.

“Such a good c**k, I knew you had a good one when you first walked into the bar”

I laughed slightly and watched as she went to work thrusting her head back and forth gradually getting deeper and deeper. She took it out and I watched as a trail of spit that joined my c**k to her chin grew longer and thinner before breaking and falling onto my balls and leg. She breathed in then spat a load of thick spittle onto my shaft and again began to work it, this time harder and more aggressive than before. I leaned in to undo the bra from behind her back then went to feel the warm breast mounds that hung below. I grabbed her top, pulled it over her head and arms and removed her bra. I watched as the breasts one by one fell to her soft belly with a small bounce and again went for a feel.

As she lay onto her back her b***s went from long and full to short and flat and naturally rested just above her armpits. The wrinkle of the n****e and the light brown tea bag like stain that ran under her breasts made me physically grimace for a split second, she clearly had hygiene problems, but like a warrior I carried on. I removed her dirty brown lopsided fur boots, leggings and knickers to reveal an extremely meaty wet p***y and pot belly. I probed with two fingers at first unfolding until I could feel the warm wet opening I was looking for.

“I want that c**k in me” she groaned through a slightly clenched jaw. Without hesitation, I complied. No condom, no questions and with little hesitation. I felt the warmth and the wetness as I thrust deep maintaining a comfortable pace that wouldn’t see me overheat or tire too quick. Her right arm leant over her pot and found her c**t.

“f**k me like that” she said. I watched her face and picked up the pace to match her oncoming orgasm her breasts swaying in a circular motion in perfect unison.

“Ahh faster” Again I picked up the pace. I could hear her p***y getting wetter and wetter, that along with her head falling further back and her legs straightening gave me the indication she was close. I again picked it up, this time going as fast as my hips would allow. I pulled her hair and maintained full pace until she screamed with uncontrollable delight. As she did my now rock-hard c**k was thrown from her p***y followed by a stream of juice. I leant back and pulled my dripping wet c**k until I reached orgasm leaving her pot belly covered in a mixture of both our juices.

I woke up to the sound of horrendous snoring, the type that would raise hell had it been listening. As I looked over my eyes began to focus on the wide, pale and blemished back of the now not so young-looking woman I had shared the night with previous. The clock on the wall read 0619hrs. I decided to leave this place and try make my way back to the hotel and get ready for the day’s activities. I gingerly pulled the off-white duvet away trying not to disturb the portion that covered the beast. Next to the sofa/bed, crumpled in a mass next to what was probably a sticky towel, sat my clothes and boots. I carefully picked up the clothing, shook off the excess floor fluff and got dressed. After doing up the brown leather belt still looped into the jeans I noticed the snoring had stopped. I looked over expecting to find I had awoken the beast but again all I could see was a back and broad shoulders. Coming to the conclusion she was still in hibernation I made my way to the kitchen, took onboard water straight from the tap then made my way to the door. “S**t” I said under my breath. The door was locked with no key insight. I searched the local area, kitchen and even under the door mat but nothing, I was locked in this lair with no signs of escape. I sat in the kitchen for a while weighing up my options. Do I jump out of a window and risk breaking a leg? Do I wait for the beast to awaken under her own esteem and ask to leave nicely? Or do I smash a window, open the door and make a run for it? In the end, I decided against all these options and went for what at the time seemed the nicest approach to this situation.

I moved with caution back into the room where she lay unmoved. I removed my clothes and boots, carefully placed them next to the bed in the same manner they had been found and slid back under the duvet all the while trying not to laugh at the situation. After 5 minutes or so I made my move. I made some fake wake up noises and slightly nudged the dank skin upon her back.

“What are you doing” she said inquisitively as she turned.

“Morning” I said “are you ok?”

“Yeh I’m okay, but why have you been walking around my flat for 10 minutes and why did you get naked again to get back into bed with me?”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she looked at me with great anger.

“What have you stolen” she barked as she partially rolled into a defensive position.

I looked at her up and down. Her stature and demeanour combined with flash backs of her soggy brown stained under breast made me heave. The taste of stale beer and smell of sex was becoming too much. I had to leave.

“I tried to leave” I explained while scrambling to get dressed yet again “but the door was locked and I couldn’t find a key”

“The key is on a hook next to the door, are you f*****g blind! So, what have you stolen?”

“Nothing” I retaliated “I just needed water” by this time I was dressed and making my way to the door boots in hand.

“Come here” she ordered as her oversized paws grabbed me by the shoulders. “I need to check you”

She patted me down like a professional and even checked the inside of my boots, once satisfied she opened the door and like a lion being let back into the wild I staggered into the brisk salty air of this vile petulant town.

Author's Note

Any feedback much appreciated. Do not read if easily offended.

Reviews

[Delmar Cooper]

"Do not read if easily offended." This was funny coming at the end of the story as it did. Too late Tony, but thanks for the warning.

Not many stories to read here in the Café. Poetry by the long ton; stories dribbled out in grams, drams, grains, and scruples. Then, when one does appear, it is all about pimply teen angst, so when this gem popped up I was delighted to see it, belated warning or not.

I like the character, the setting, the situation and the whole thing. Don't approve or condemn, don't care if it's moral, amoral or just plain smutty. It is a good yarn with a beginning an middle and an end. It makes a reader believe it's true or choose to not to disbelieve at any rate.
It may be a bit weak in the beginning, since it is all interior monologue which is by definition hard to do gracefully, but it starts briskly and I guess that's the trade off. Keep on keeping on.

[Tony Conaghan]

Thanks Delmar, much appreciated. Like I said, I don’t mean to offend anyone but I do hope todays world has the balls to accept my words without too much bitching, moaning and labelling. I shall post some more shortly. Have a good new year.

[Delmar Cooper]

Looking forward to more and good year wishes to you also.