Jack left the glass-fronted office building, into the cool night air. He strode through a carpark, lit by the orange glow of the streetlights.
As Jack left the depot, turning onto the busy main road, he realized that he couldn't remember talking to anyone at work. He couldn't even remember if his performance was up to scratch. His mind was on one thing, and one thing only: Sarah.
They had only been dating a few months. But those few months were the most fun he'd had in years. It was also the most sex he had experienced in years. Jack never thought that a woman as sexy as her, as smart as she was, would end up with a guy like him.
The thought struck him that he was becoming infatuated with her. Perhaps a little obsessed.
As Jack walked past a petrol station before the bridge over the River Plym, he wondered: how much longer would their honeymoon phase last? The fun times out on the town, followed by almost non-stop fucking -- surely this wouldn't last forever?
Jack walked past a small pub, with a couple marquees in the beer garden, blaring out dance music. Small crowds of drunk people danced and shouted into the night air, in view of the calm river.
Reaching the bridge, he looked out over the yachts moored at the harbour below, illuminating the river with their masthead lights.
Jack began to wonder if his obsession was taking over his life. He was supposed to be thinking about his financial future, and building a career. He had neither of those things. And how was he supposed to focus on pensions, mortgages, career training, all of those dull but necessary things with the thought of waking up in the morning next to Sarah and her magnificent body?
The nagging thought persisted. Why would a girl like Sarah stick around for him: a guy in his thirties with no direction, stuck for years in a low income job, and living with his parents?
Sarah's hobby was hosting a webcam show. She was a cam model. Hundreds of men every night were paying to see her tits on their monitor screens. She had so many options.
Granted, she wasn't exactly a high-flier herself. Her day job was stacking shelves in a supermarket. But one day, a man would come along who had more going for him. Jack knew this would finish the relationship sooner or later, assuming the honeymoon phase would end.
Past the bridge, Jack found himself walking down a street lit by the neon signs of takeaways. Across the road to his right was what had once been a large, important looking building -- maybe a government office or a courthouse. Now it had been turned into cheap apartments. Housing for students, mostly.
On Jack's side of the road, among the takeaways, were second-hand shops, vape stalls, a small Co-op supermarket to serve the needs of a community that was not exactly flush with cash.
A sudden noise in the distance. Girls, young women, screaming and laughing. He saw three silhouettes running towards him, their hair bouncing wildly.
Jack watched them enter the street light in the distance where he could se them properly. And he stopped dead in his tracks. Was he seeing them correctly?
He quickly realized that his eyes weren't deceiving him. These women were completely naked.
Three naked young women were running towards him in the street, laughing and giggling. Their bodies reflected the neon lights of the takeaways, and Jack got an eyeful of the bouncing tits of the woman to his right, closest to him. They were big -- almost as big as Sarah's. They bounced on her chest, over a slim body and beneath a face with a wide grin, and thick wavy hair. Was she blonde? It didn't matter.
The other two were also pleasing to the eye. While the blonde had the bigger breasts, the other two definitely had a handful, and were more pert. They seemed to have trimmed bushes, but Jack was mesmerized by their jiggling breasts.
They seemed to notice Jack too, laughing even more at the stunned look on his face as they passed him.
"Hey there!" the busty blonde shouted at him, wide grin on her face, as she jogged past him.
"Hi," Jack replied, distractedly, watching their bare asses in the streetlights as they ran off into the distance. He could still hear them laughing after they disappeared.
Jack stood there, semi-erection in his jeans, his heart racing as he tried to process what just happened.
He couldn't process it. He had no idea what the fuck just happened, but he was glad that it did.
Jack turned and carried on walking. He was glad not to be thinking of Sarah, instead thinking of that sexy blonde woman and her huge tits, jiggling in the light of the takeaway. Perhaps he would figure it out. Until then, it was another memory for the spank bank.
Jack got closer to the end of the street, where the cheap housing and takeaways petered out before transitioning into the City Centre.
More female laughter in the distance. Four more silhouettes jogging towards him in the distance. Was it happening again? Jack's rock hard dick really hoped it was.
And when they emerged into the street light, Jack's prayers had been answered. Four more naked young women, jogging towards him, screaming with laughter.
Two blondes and two brunettes. All four of them were slim, attractive, with tits that caught Jack's eye. He stopped to admire them.
The brunette closest to him had a really big pair of tits with dark nipples that could have been any colour in the street light.
As the brunette passed him, her giggling blonde friend shoved her right into Jack. She fell, tits first, right into Jack's arms as he automatically tried to steady her from falling. Feeling the firmness of those breasts against his chest, he didn't want to release her.
Still laughing, the brunette pushed herself away from his chest and got back to her feet, chasing after her friends.
"You bitch!" she cried out, as Jack watched her firm ass run off into the night.
Jack suspected that he might have cum in his pants, he wasn't sure. What the fuck was happening?
As Jack walked on, it suddenly clicked for him. It was that old student house party favourite -- running naked around your block. The girls had probably lost a bet.
Or it could have been some kind of student hazing ritual. Jack remembered the Rowing team at his University, doing naked pushups in the street after their tenth pint. All part of the initiation.
Whatever it was, he continued into the City Centre with a hardon and his head in the clouds, trying to hang on to the memory of everything he had just seen in the past five minutes.
Instead, it made him think of University. His student days were long gone, but they made his mark on him. Although he worked hard, and graduated with a decent grade, those years were tinged with regret. He didn't get laid once at Uni, something he never wanted to admit to anyone.
Jack was a shy, state school-educated kid surrounded by loud, confident, grammar school students. And he had great times with them. He felt like the Charles Ryder to their collective Sebastian in a bargain-basement version of Brideshead Revisited.
But his confidence levels could never match theirs. They had an aura of wealth, charm, and potential that outshone his aura of poverty and desparation. The girls in his circle hardly ever noticed him. What little attention he received from other women never concluded with them going back to his bedroom.
Three years later, he graduated with a good grade in a useless liberal arts degree, and even less self-confidence than he had when he started. And so back to Plymouth he went.
But that dark cloud of regret that hung over him lifted when he met Sarah. He just hoped that this rare period of fun would last, just a little longer.
He reached the City Centre. Loud gatherings of teenagers gathered in the lights of a McDonald's, while groups of people walked between a Carribean-themed restaurant and a taxi rank.
Jack walked towards Royal Parade, considering whether or not to get the bus home, or to walk. He was tempted to get the bus.
Walking past McDonald's, towards the quieter part of the City Centre, a figure stepped gracefully towards him in a pair of high heels.
She was blonde, wearing a leather jacket open over a very low cut top that exposed her mid-riff. Her cleavage was barely contained by the dark top that was tied together at the front.
Her shorts were possibly denim -- Jack couldn't quite tell in the light. But whatever they were, they were very short, displaying her well-toned thighs.
Her make-up was heavy -- dark mascara and red lipstick. She had probably shoveled on that foundation.
"Alright, love?" she said. "Are you looking?"
"Sorry?"
She didn't seem to register Jack's confusion. She beamed at him.
"Are you looking?"
Of course. She was a prostitute.
It seemed uncanny that a prostitute with an amazing body was to show up, just as he was deep in thought about his sparse sexual history.
