John knew it wasn’t the guy’s first
experience by the way he was frantically feasting on his now erect
penis as John lay against the wall in delightful enjoyment.
He looked down
at the man who was stroking his own body as if they were John’s
hands being guided by his mind as the man closed his eyes appearing
to be enjoying the experience.
The man stood
up and hurriedly left the yard, leaving John to quickly dress
himself.
As he came out
into the alley John nervously looked around in case he had been
seen, the man had gone and John continued his walk into town.
He went into a
men’s clothes shop and tried on a pair of black trousers he needed
for his work. On the way to the till counter, he collected a grey
anorak and a casual short-sleeved shirt. He placed them on the
counter and reached for his wallet as the assistant removed the
security tags off the garments. His wallet had gone. Frantically
searching his other pockets he soon realised that his previous
sexual encounter in the back yard had been a profitable gain for
the stranger. He had no other means of payment and the garments
were taken back to the shelves.
John soon
realised how the thief had been able to obtain his wallet as it was
in the back pocket of his trousers which the man had dropped to his
ankles giving him the time and opportunity to riffle through his
pockets while he was on his knees and John laying with his head
back in enjoyment.
Apart from
small change in his raincoat, he was penniless and his last week’s
work had been in vain.
He walked back
to the hostel depressed and humiliated and soon realised that his
mistrust of people on the inside extended to the outside and
although he had enjoyed the experience, £120 was a high price to
pay.
Once at the
hostel, he went to the television room wishing he had stayed there
for the day. Elizabeth and Dorothy were embracing on the settee,
laughing and talking incessantly, Harold playing solitaire and
Peter Scott standing by the window, running his finger down the
condensation.
Sat at the far
end was an unfamiliar man. He was a middle-aged, tall guy with a
dusty complexion; his hair was thick and wavy, greying at the
temples. He was hunched over his chair clipping his well-manicured
fingernails, where the bits dropped on the bag tightly gripped by
his feet. He occasionally looked up with a disapproving expression
as he continued clipping and brushing his grey trousers.
John noticed
the man looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he worked
his gum between his front teeth, stretching it out with his tongue,
his smoothly shaven jaw muscles rippling in front of his ears.
Graham Banks
walked into the room wearing a bright pink floral dress and
high-heeled shoes. We were all used to seeing him gracefully walk
around the hostel flamboyantly although he looked awkward in
women’s clothing being a hairy twenty-two stone body builder who
had murdered two elderly women on the Isle of Man while on holiday
with his family. He strangled his victims after stripping them of
their clothes to add to his wardrobe collection, which he wore when
he went out in Manchester as a transvestite. He was only caught by
the off chance when a victim’s sister recognised the dress, shoes
and handbag he wore while shopping in Marks & Spencer’s. When
police searched his house they found a wardrobe in his workshop
full of women’s clothes and accessories and through forensic
investigation he was charged with their murders. His wife had been
unaware of his crimes and also of his transvestism. He got fifteen
years for his crimes and had been in the hostel for the last
four.
THE TRAVELLING
FAIR
The guy
stopped clipping his nails, his mouth dropped and his wide eyes
followed Banks as he pushed by, stepping over his bag and lifting
his long skirt to reveal his high-heeled shoes. He sat with
Elizabeth and Dorothy, rooting through his handbag.
John was quick
to check the guy’s expression of shock, still with mouth
experience by the way he was frantically feasting on his now erect
penis as John lay against the wall in delightful enjoyment.
He looked down
at the man who was stroking his own body as if they were John’s
hands being guided by his mind as the man closed his eyes appearing
to be enjoying the experience.
The man stood
up and hurriedly left the yard, leaving John to quickly dress
himself.
As he came out
into the alley John nervously looked around in case he had been
seen, the man had gone and John continued his walk into town.
He went into a
men’s clothes shop and tried on a pair of black trousers he needed
for his work. On the way to the till counter, he collected a grey
anorak and a casual short-sleeved shirt. He placed them on the
counter and reached for his wallet as the assistant removed the
security tags off the garments. His wallet had gone. Frantically
searching his other pockets he soon realised that his previous
sexual encounter in the back yard had been a profitable gain for
the stranger. He had no other means of payment and the garments
were taken back to the shelves.
John soon
realised how the thief had been able to obtain his wallet as it was
in the back pocket of his trousers which the man had dropped to his
ankles giving him the time and opportunity to riffle through his
pockets while he was on his knees and John laying with his head
back in enjoyment.
Apart from
small change in his raincoat, he was penniless and his last week’s
work had been in vain.
He walked back
to the hostel depressed and humiliated and soon realised that his
mistrust of people on the inside extended to the outside and
although he had enjoyed the experience, £120 was a high price to
pay.
Once at the
hostel, he went to the television room wishing he had stayed there
for the day. Elizabeth and Dorothy were embracing on the settee,
laughing and talking incessantly, Harold playing solitaire and
Peter Scott standing by the window, running his finger down the
condensation.
Sat at the far
end was an unfamiliar man. He was a middle-aged, tall guy with a
dusty complexion; his hair was thick and wavy, greying at the
temples. He was hunched over his chair clipping his well-manicured
fingernails, where the bits dropped on the bag tightly gripped by
his feet. He occasionally looked up with a disapproving expression
as he continued clipping and brushing his grey trousers.
John noticed
the man looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he worked
his gum between his front teeth, stretching it out with his tongue,
his smoothly shaven jaw muscles rippling in front of his ears.
Graham Banks
walked into the room wearing a bright pink floral dress and
high-heeled shoes. We were all used to seeing him gracefully walk
around the hostel flamboyantly although he looked awkward in
women’s clothing being a hairy twenty-two stone body builder who
had murdered two elderly women on the Isle of Man while on holiday
with his family. He strangled his victims after stripping them of
their clothes to add to his wardrobe collection, which he wore when
he went out in Manchester as a transvestite. He was only caught by
the off chance when a victim’s sister recognised the dress, shoes
and handbag he wore while shopping in Marks & Spencer’s. When
police searched his house they found a wardrobe in his workshop
full of women’s clothes and accessories and through forensic
investigation he was charged with their murders. His wife had been
unaware of his crimes and also of his transvestism. He got fifteen
years for his crimes and had been in the hostel for the last
four.
THE TRAVELLING
FAIR
The guy
stopped clipping his nails, his mouth dropped and his wide eyes
followed Banks as he pushed by, stepping over his bag and lifting
his long skirt to reveal his high-heeled shoes. He sat with
Elizabeth and Dorothy, rooting through his handbag.
John was quick
to check the guy’s expression of shock, still with mouth
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