White Van Man

By James Orr

White van man is a term popularised in the United Kingdom, to describe drivers of light commercial vehicles such as the Ford Transit. Such vehicles are commonly painted white in order to facilitate easy sign-writing on the panelled sides. The stereotype represents the drivers of such vehicles as often self-employed or the owner of a small business such as builder, carpenter, or plumber. In Brighton there are thousands of them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781291394795

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White Van Man

White Van Man

by

James Orr

LEGAL NOTICE

White Van Man

James Orr

Text by James Orr, Copyright ©2013

The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publishers and/or author.

While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibilities for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of information contained herein.

Book design by Sabaijai Designs

For Sam

Chapter 1

Nothing on television.

I finished my supper then had a quick shower and put some clothes on. When I returned to the kitchen, my dessert was still on the table.

I could have it later.

I decided to go out and headed down towards the coast. The air was clear and not a cloud in the black sky.

It was a quiet night as I drove along Brighton’s Beach Road near the Shoreham Power Station. A well-known cruising area at night and a nudist beach during the day. The Port Authorities cared little about security and seldom patrolled the area.

It was hit and miss though with no guarantee of success with regard to finding a sexual partner.

It had been weeks since I had been down there. I was ready for the unexpected; I was ready for the thrill.

No cars leaving or arriving. There were a few lorries parked for an overnight stay, some with their back doors wide open to show that they weren’t carrying anything, no lights, curtains drawn, their drivers watching television on miniscule sets, munching on pot noodles.

The sea was fairly calm with small ripples reaching shore. I could faintly hear the waves through my open window as I drove.

No joggers ran along the roadside, their form fitting Lycra adding to their sleek forms, and no cyclists, with their fluorescent vests, tight cycling shorts, helmets atop, some with lights and some with no lights.

As I passed the middle part of the road, its high, solid wall dividing the shingle beach from the road, I noticed a large white Lucato van parked with its passenger door open, next to it was a dark car, its passenger door also open.

I was driving too fast to see properly what was going on, despite having to slow down for the wicked speed bumps in the road.

At the end of the parking section I pulled in, reversed and pulled back into the road. Slowly I drove back to where the white van and car were parked.

I could see no markings on the van to tell me what trade the driver was in.

I parked next to the blue car, turned off the engine and switched off my lights. Although it was quite dark, the area protected from the high sea wall, limited street lighting, I could see that the doors to each vehicle were still open.

For something to do, despite the temperature outside, I rolled down my window to watch the action.

There was such stillness and silence, apart from the shallow waves hitting the shore. The whole area seemed to soften as my eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Lifting up from my seat and peering out of my window I could make out one person, his head peering out over the roof of his car. There was no sign of the other person.

Quietly I opened my door and stood next to my car.

Steeping towards the back of my car I saw one guy being sucked off by another, who was bent over, his jeans and underwear pulled over his bottom, exposing his cheeks to the moonlight. And a nice bottom it was too.

At that moment the one sucking stood up and shuffled over to the open door of the van. Bending over with his elbows leaning on the front seat, the other guy moved up behind him, his erect cock glistening with saliva. Taking hold of it he aimed it towards the twin globes of flesh.

He glanced over at me with a half-smile on his face as I heard a grunt come from the van driver when his cock found the waiting hole, his wedding ring glinting in the light.

Gripping the man’s hips he began to pound the small bottom of the van driver, sending his cock deeper with each thrust. Several moans and groans from the van driver followed as I watched the action from the back of the car. I held back as I hadn’t been asked to join them.

Sometimes it was good just to watch.

As the one fucking speeded up I took my erect cock out and started to play with it. It was quite erotic to watch the sex scene taking place.

Shouts of, I’m coming, came from the one fucking, as it echoed around the enclosed place.

When he had deposited his load, he pulled out, buttoned up and got back into his car.

The van driver bent down to pick up his jeans and underwear, which had gathered around his ankles, before climbing back into his van and closing the door behind him.

The car driver started his engine so I moved away to allow him to reverse.

I got back into my car and waited for the other car to reverse and leave.

The van driver remained, still sitting in the front. Although he had inserted the key into the ignition, he did not turn it. Instead he stared at the drab, meagrely equipped dashboard.

I started my engine and moved my car nearer to the van. Climbing out, I opened my jeans and pulled my erect cock out, hoping the van driver was up for more action.

He was.

As I leant against my car, he slowly opened the passenger door and climbed out. He approached. He turned and looked straight at me, then at my cock. He was probably in his early twenties, very slim, almost teenager build. He had on a checked shirt, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to the elbows, with a white T-shirt underneath it, light blue jeans that were open at the zipper and trainers.

He’s so young.

He couldn’t have been more than twenty three.

I know I’m not that old.

He looked me in eye, his face suddenly serious. He was wearing a sneer, which even then I knew he was doing deliberately, because he thought he should, because it made him look good. The whole effect of him leaning on the door frame and looking at me with his dark eyes, small eyes, set deep, made me shake in anticipation.

Taking hold of my jeans he pulled them down to my knees, my underwear followed. And then he took hold of my cock and started to suck the end. His cool lips formed a circle around my sensitive end.

He knelt own on the hard tarmacadam area and bobbed his head down the shaft as he opened the belt of his jeans, undid the top button and slid them, along with his briefs, over his buttocks, exposing his buttocks to the night air.

He was very adept at sucking, allowing plenty of saliva to coat the shaft, although unable to take all of my cock down his throat. He teased my balls at the same as he sucked.

I knew what he wanted next.

Standing up he pushed his jeans to below his knees and bent over my car bonnet.

Thankfully, the road was quiet. No one else was venturing out.

Standing behind him, my cock found his slippery hole, as warm spunk oozed out.

I placed a hand over his beautiful mouth, Felt the fleshiness of his upper lip as he drew breath. Keeping one hand on his mouth I pressed the other down on the top of his thigh. He closed his eyes, let out a breath.

His bottom was tiny and I had my doubts he would be able to take all of me. After rubbing the outside of his hole several times with the head of my cock, I pressed the head at the centre and pushed slightly. He reached back to hold open his buttocks as my cock slowly slid into the warm, wet orifice. I didn’t stop pushing until I had reached base. Once I did, he moaned low and long.

Gripping his slim hips I began to fuck him, long drawn out strokes, in and out. Leaning over I trapped him between me and the car and started to pound him hard.

The sensation of my cock in his tight arse was unbelievable and I drove my cock as deeply into him as I could, squeezing him tightly, my heart thundering with the effort, both of us enraptured by the most intimate sexual embrace we could possibly attain, I kissed his tender ear, his soft neck, his mouth agape with erotic abandon, his neck dripping with perspiration, and finally I pinched an erect nipple.

I leaned forward again and cradled him in my arms. His eyes were closed but a broad, smug grin stretched from ear to ear. He was obviously satisfied with the penetration his behind now enjoyed, his tight hole clinging tightly to my erect penis and setting it ablaze with the extreme thrill of fucking such a sensual, erotic creature.

I proceeded to pump my cock in and out of his butt, fucking him slowly but thoroughly, pulling my penis out until only the tip was held within his rectum and then thrusting it steadily back up his butt, his smile broadening as my cock filled his cavity completely.

Thus joined in sexual union we rocked together as I fucked and fucked, covering his neck with kisses and holding him as tightly as I could, my hard cock gliding in and out of his hairless butt, his erect penis flapping against his abdomen with each thrust, his little balls pulled up tightly against his crotch, jiggling delightfully as I pumped him.

I took hold of his erect penis and started masturbating furiously as I fucked, jerking his stiff dick up and down, his eyes opening and he stared down the road, and then as he masturbated his eyes rolled back in his head, his butt clenched my erection tightly and I shoved my cock as deeply into his butt as I possibly could, lifting him slightly in the throes of uncontrollable pleasure as we raced closer towards the erotic pinnacle of orgasm, him masturbating his cock I slid my stiff cock in and out of his slick anal opening.

I gazed in breathless wonder at the extraordinary sight of his smooth butt being penetrated by my hard cock. I stared in utter amazement as I watched my cock slip easily into his tight hole, deep into his hot, wet rectal cavity, until my crotch was pressed tightly against his hairless bum.

I held it there, rejoicing in the extreme pleasure of being inside him. His sphincter clung tightly to my penis around the extremely sensitive area just below the head. I felt a powerful surge of erotic energy pass from his anus to my penis when he tightened his muscles, holding my cock tightly within him when suddenly his sphincter throbbed around my penis.

Oh! he moaned loudly as his bottom pumped on my erection, pulling me irresistibly toward orgasm.

He grunted, his cock jerking and spasming and finally producing a stream of spunk that hit the wheel trim of the car.

I came too. I jerked my erection out of his spasming hole and thrust it back one final time, squirting and squirting while he groaned as my throbbing cock, shooting my come into his hole.

I gradually collapsed over his back, into a hard breathing, perspiring, and tingling post-orgasmic sizzle. Our bodies were slippery with perspiration. I held him close and stroked his soft hair, kissing his neck and ears. He held my softening penis in his hole, unwilling to surrender its release.

As I pulled out, he jumped slightly.

When he climbed back into his van I grabbed a cloth and wiped his cum from the car. Before I had even finished he had started his engine, reversed out and was gone.

Not before I got the last part of his number plate - KP32.

Chapter 2

Devil's Dyke is a 100m deep V-shaped valley on the South Downs Way in southern England, near Brighton and Hove. It was a major local tourist attraction in the late 19th and early 20th century.

It was formed from chalk rocks which originated as marine sediments during the Cretaceous period.

Local residents of Brighton think that the valley was formed by some kind of glacial action. In reality the 300-foot-deep valley was carved by tremendous amounts of water running off the Downs during the last Ice Age when large amounts of snow thawed and the frozen chalk prevented any further absorption; erosion was aided by the freeze-thaw cycle and the valley was deepened by the saturated chalk.

The hills surrounding the valley offer views of the South Downs, The Weald, and on a clear day the Isle of Wight. It is a popular local beauty spot for the Brighton and Hove area.

In late Victorian times Devil's Dyke became a tourist attraction, complete with a fairground, two bandstands, and an observatory, all served by a train line from Hove. The single track line operated to transport sightseers to the foot of the hill. During its heyday, Devil's Dyke was a huge hit with Victorians, with more than thirty thousand people visiting on Whit Monday in 1893.

It even had a cable car operating across the valley, covering a distance of three hundred and fifty metres, suspended seventy metres above the valley floor.

The South Downs form a huge part of the southern part of West Sussex.

These areas of outstanding natural beauty in Sussex and the importance of these lovely rolling chalk hills have now been protected as the South Downs National Park.

As you follow the South Downs Way past the Devil's Dyke a minor road shadows your route round the southern edge of the Devil's Dyke Estate.

There are small car parks, four in number, where you can enjoy the sights of the chalky face of Newtimber Hill to the north ahead, and from the last car park, there is a long straight climb up West Hill, over which lies the village of Pyecombe.

During the day it is full of cyclists, joggers, dog walkers and ramblers, but at night the place changes, it becomes a place for doggers and gay cruising.

The first car park was quite busy when I arrived. I saw a gap next to a large white van, squeezing in between it and the high mound that divided the car park into two. I felt like a sardine in a tin.

I stared through the windscreen.

It was already dark and when I killed my lights I was plunged into complete blackness. The van had no markings at all. I could make out the shadowy figure sitting behind the steering wheel, occasionally looking at my direction.

I was getting excited.

After a shower of sleet that served merely to wet the uneven surface of the car park, the leaden sky was lightening and the moon struggled to come through.

Sometimes a ghostly figure would emerge from one of