It's 8 o clock and the sun is starting to set, the temperature dropping slightly as darkness falls. A group of lads loiter around the bottom of the steps and a man dressed as a town crier walks briskly past my car. A couple of kids on skateboards practise jumps and grinds along the curb before skating off and the lights start to flicker on, blue lamps light up the path along the top of the wall and yellow street lights glow along the edge of the pavement. The arches, however are full of dark shadows, no lights in here, a couple sitting on the bench at the back, barely visible.
A ferry glides past behind the wall, heading for the Isle of Wight, its windows brightly lit and full of passengers heading home for the weekend. I wait, watching as the pubs start to fill up and the street starts to empty, the lads wandering off, the town crier taking his group of tourists off on their walk, I wonder if you'll get back early enough to meet me here...
Ever since we passed here that time I've been thinking about these arches. They're dark and full of shadows, walking past I see a man in one dressed all in black, only visible by the glow as he drags on his cigarette.
I think of telling you to meet me here after work, of pulling you into those shadows and sitting you on the bench at the back, my legs straddling yours as I sit myself on your lap to kiss you. I'm wearing all black, black trousers, black hoody, we wouldn't be seen.
I imagine feeling you get hard beneath me as we kiss, your hand reaching up to unzip my hoody and caress my breasts, pulling on my nipples before bending your head to suck on them, hearing the laughs of the tourists from behind us as they watch the show being put on in the paved area in front of the arches, ducking your head instinctively as headlights sweep across the arch, a car reversing into a space on the road opposite.
The tourists move off down an alleyway and I reach my hand down to unbutton your trousers, moving my hips back slightly so that I can touch you, scraping my nails lightly down your stomach and along the length of your cock, your hands pushing inside the waistband of my trousers to grab my arse and dig your fingers in, your nails scratching against my skin.
A helicopter flies overhead, the sound of it loud in the sudden silence and a lone woman jogs past on the pavement opposite. I stand and kneel between your legs, my breath hot on your stomach as I teasingly lick over the tip of your cock, my hands pushing your trousers open further so that you're completely exposed to me.
