Added: Keston Spieker - Date: 09.07.2021 18:47 - Views: 21435 - Clicks: 4064
The first thing that struck me was what a little man he was. Not just short, but petty and nondescript. When he sat he slumped forward, which made him look even smaller.
His institutional grey sweatshirt matched his hair and sallow complexion, and I agreed with myself that of the two of us, I had aged better. I was aware of voices gabbling as proceedings began, but kept my eyes on him, with the kind of open glare that in a pub or schoolyard would precipitate a fight. And I felt a strong urge to fight him - to punch him in the face bone-breakingly hard. It was the atavistic call of unfinished business. Eventually he looked up and caught my eye, more by accident than purpose.
I dead-eyed him and his eyes flicked nervously down and away. Ha, I thought, not so tough now, are we? I childishly reckoned I could take him and, more adultly, that if I had a tyre iron, there'd be blood on the floor. It was January I was 28 and had written the book for a musical. After years in the sketch-show salt mines, this was my First Big Thing. Unfortunately, after a successful run in Birmingham, the show arrived in the West End just in time for the last great IRA bombing campaign on the mainland.
Everything closed that Christmas, a dozen or more shows in all.
The last Friday, cast, crew, chorus and orchestra all met at a restaurant in the Strand, and although it didn't start out as the happiest of evenings, put enough gay men and alcohol together and a party will happen. It was bumping 4. As I paid the cab driver, a cheerful black boy strolled up.
Having just waved goodbye to my First Big Thing, I was in a grimly giving mood - why the hell not? So I pulled out my 19 Esher big clean dick Cut. I went downstairs to my flat, checked my messages nonemade a cup of tea, then slid into bed and a deep sleep. I realised that the duvet had been pulled off and there was a man on top of me. I was flat on my back and he was flat on me. His chest was on my chest, and his face was inches from mine. I was pinned down and my arms were by my side. I didn't believe it and shut my eyes. It took several desperate 'peekings' before I realised 'this is happening'.
I was for about 15 seconds paralysed with fear. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the dull light seeping through my blinds. All I could make out was a shape, dark, shifting and violent. He jabbed his tongue in my mouth, and I could taste the cigarettes. He grabbed my left breast through my T-shirt and began violently twisting it. My voice didn't work. The swearing and threats continued as he began punching me in the face, his erection grinding into me, his excitement building. Then he stopped punching me and tried to insert his fingers into me but I kept my legs shut. There was no way he could force them.
So he grabbed my pubic hair. His trousers were pulled down and he was trying to direct his penis into my vagina. He kept trying to force his dick in, but, with my legs shut, there was nowhere for it to go.
He let go of my breast, shifted his weight to his left and used his right hand to 'guide' himself in. I missed, brushing it enough to feel its sponginess, but unable to grab it. Incensed, he reared up. He forced me back on to the bed, one hand around my throat, holding me down, the other punching my face, spitting out threats with each blow.
I was wriggling wildly, and managed to deflect at least half the blows from my face to the side of my head. Pushing his chest with my right hand, I punched his face wildly with my left. I thought I was going to die.
No, not die - be killed. What happened next was downright hallucinatory. Time expanded sideways. Facts, figures, people, places, appeared not in a sequence but as one great moment of 'knowing'. I have a vivid memory of a photograph taken when I was. I can still see the garden, the boy playing a guitar, the dappled light falling on a fat man on a sun lounger.
It's as real as anything that happened that night. I've come to believe your 'life flashing in front of my eyes' is the brain scrolling through everything that's happened to you, looking for a way out. Like you've Googled the word 'help'.
I 'woke' with one simple thought - let him get on with it and live advice that was bandied around at that time. So I stopped struggling and lay completely still. It seemed to work. He stopped hitting me and let go of my throat.
Then he lifted up my shirt, and took his time to feel me, not swearing this time but moaning, 'Oh yeah. He yelped, and lurched backwards. I saw an opening and went for his dick. This time I made it. I squeezed, twisted and dug my nails in and he went berserk.
I can't remember being hit - all I was thinking was: 'I'm not letting go. Anyway I saw another opening and using his dick for leverage, I hauled 19 Esher big clean dick up into a sitting position. I recoiled back on to the bed - momentarily concussed. When I came to, he was gone. I ran to the front door desperate to escape, but it was locked, which didn't make sense. If someone's in your flat, they must've come in through the front door, right?
I remembered I'd dropped the keys next to the kettle in the kitchen when I'd made the tea. I was trapped, and still had no idea where he was. I ran back to the living room and grabbed an old sword stick I kept tucked behind the TV. It was a rickety old thing from the Twenties, picked up as a curio, but holding the 2ft blade I immediately 19 Esher big clean dick stronger. I knew if he came back in I'd try and kill him. Still operating on simple thoughts, I stood square to the kitchen door.
I grabbed the phone and dialledbut there was no line. The wire had been cut. I looked down and there, laid out neatly on the floor, in descending order of size, were the knives from the knife block in the kitchen. I held my breath to listen properly, then hearing nothing ran into the kitchen for the keys. The window was open. He'd left the same way he'd come in. I shut the window and grabbed my keys.
I was shaking as I hauled on clothes then ran upstairs to my friend and landlady Peri. I pounded so hard on her door that I left marks in the wood. She let me in and phoned the police. The whole episode had lasted no longer than 10 minutes. Fifteen minutes later the police arrived and the machine took over.
A PC wiped blood off my face and asked me to 'take him through what'd happened'. I was driven to the station, and on the way another policeman asked me what had happened.19 Esher big clean dick
email: [email protected] - phone:(342) 522-7370 x 5086
Esher porn videos