A/N - Hello. This is a new series of stories I've had ideas about writing. Twenty-six letters of the alphabet lead to twenty-six stories. A is for Andorra, B will be for somewhere else in the world, and so on and so forth, all the way to the letter Z. Some stories will be based on cities or countries I've visited. If a story is set in Europe, there's a good chance I've been there. Figuring out places and settings for letters such as Q and X was rather difficult and required more imagination than others...
Stories written for this series are in the following categories:
Incest (6 stories)
Interracial (5 stories)
Mature (5 stories)
Transgender (5 stories)
Romance (3 stories)
Anal (1 story)
Group Sex (1 story)
Basically, the same categories I've written at least one story for in the past.
A couple more things. For all twenty-six stories, the name of the MC is Mark, and it generally revolves around him travelling. Based on my life in a way as I spent nearly two decades travelling to some of the places mentioned. For those who have read some of my stories, that's a name I frequently use. And most stories are between 10k to 15k words. I think that's around four to five pages on this website.
Australian / British standard English. There is a good chance of reading the following: lots of profanity, characters drinking, typos, and bad grammar at times.
Proofreading and editing suggestions provided by OhDave1. Any mistakes are still mine.
Comments are appreciated as always.
Feedback by email is always welcome. Enjoy chatting with anyone who likes my work.
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A May-December romance in the heart of the Pyrenees
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The best decision of my life was graduating from high school and ensuring I completed a degree in finance and business because I knew even in those days that the way to make money was to get into the finance industry. The next best decision of my life was graduating with my degree, working my arse off for two years in my hometown city of Sydney before applying for a visa and flying over to London.
The United Kingdom was still part of the European Union at the time I arrived with a backpack on my back, a few thousand dollars in my bank account, and a job already lined up in Canary Wharf, the beating heart of most financial institutions when it came to being based in Europe and taking advantage of the single market. Though I intended to enjoy my time in London and Europe as a whole, my sole focus was on making money. I wanted to live comfortably and retire early if possible. London was the centre of European finance and banking, and if you were young and ambitious, the world could be your oyster. I was just one of thousands with the same ambitions, of course.
It's a cutthroat industry and I had no problem trampling over anyone around or in front of me to ensure I moved up the corporate ladder. I wasn't in the business of making friends. I was there to make money. The British Pound at the time was still as strong as ever. We dealt in those, US Dollars, Euros, Japanese Yen and what felt like hundreds of other currencies. I'd arrived on a visa, the company I worked for sponsored a further visa, and I was a resident of the United Kingdom after five years.
They say money doesn't buy happiness. While it might not make some people happy, it certainly makes life a little easier and more comfortable, particularly if you know how to play the game. By the time I was thirty, I'd been living in London for seven years. I had no real intention of settling down. I had a few girlfriends but hadn't really met someone I wanted to spend a long-term relationship with. Weekdays were long, starting early and finishing late each and every day, though I was fortunate enough now that I could work from home or elsewhere other than the office. Weekends were spent with mates either at the football (soccer) or down the pub.
I avoided some of the vices that other traders and bankers dabbled in. Many young men in the industry were massive cokeheads. There were jokes that the water in the Thames would probably fail a drug test. The term 'work hard and play hard' usually means the company will work you until you pretty much drop dead at your desk. Hitting thirty, I could see the writing on the wall already. I enjoyed what I did, and it had made me comfortable. A nice apartment. I didn't need a car living in London. I could travel wherever I wanted in comfort. Most of my friends were still single though slowly but surely marrying off and starting families. Bachelor parties were usually a weekend somewhere in a European capital. Think Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague...
By the time I was thirty-five, I was ten years in the industry and feeling a little burnt out. I was making money hand over first but when a friend of mine, who was only five years older, nearly dropped dead from a heart attack at his desk one afternoon, it certainly made me feel a little more circumspect.
"Is the stress really worth it, Mark?" James asked me one Saturday at the pub as we watched the early afternoon kick-off, "How much money have you got in the bank now?"
"Enough that I could easily quit and go travel for a while without worrying about needing to budget."
"Rent out your apartment while you're gone?"
"Hell, I could charge more than what I pay for my mortgage considering the rising prices."
"You've spoken more than once about wanting to go on a European road trip."
"I've honestly had enough," Brian stated, "We're all making good money, and so I don't want to sound all socialist, but we're working our arses off and making far more money for other people, including the dickheads we work for."
No matter where you work, the people in charge are always dickheads, even if they're genuinely not that bad. And being Australians, we had a general dislike of authority anyway. London was still full of Australians though I'd noticed over the years since my arrival that it was changing. Instead of Aussies, Kiwis or Saffers (South Africans) behind the bar or working the kitchen in a pub, it was now Poles, Portuguese and Lithuanians. We certainly hear far more different languages nowadays.
"I'll give it some thought. Maybe put together some sort of plan."
"I'd love to do a driving tour of Europe," Craig said almost wistfully, "But given I'm married, and the lady wants to start a family..."
"You're only thirty-five, Mark," James said, "Wouldn't you rather be young enough to at least enjoy some of the wealth you've accumulated? And I reckon it would be better to do a lot of this travel you've always had a hankering to do. Still interested in hitting the clubs and shit?"
