This story is entirely fictional. All sexual activity involves consenting adult characters.
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It had been something like eight years since I had last taken that train and the memories that came back, station by station, made me feel that much younger. The timid and confused teenager that fled this place in a nauseating whirl of shame, passion and helplessness that night was scratching at the surface of my skin.
I saw recognition in the eye of everyone on the train. The old fellow with the cough opposite me used to drink in the Conservative Club, I'm sure. The guy in the suit telling his friends on the phone that he'd left work sick and would meet them in the pub. He'd have some stories to tell them if he knew it was me hiding behind the newspaper, surveying from the corner of my eye.
I convinced myself I was worrying for nothing. According to Cookie almost every one had left the Estate now and I wouldn't recognise the place. The Kelly twins left at twenty two. One is doing fifteen years for his part in a low level but pretty nasty gang war that ended up involving three murders and a rape. The other was well on his way to an overdose when I was still around. I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did.
Shelley did well for herself apparently, marrying some Accounts Clerk from the trading estate she met on her first day of work. She always knew how to play the game. She had learned a lot about men, sucking the cocks of her brother's mates after school, and her brother earned a lot of money from it. Luckily her husband lived outside the bounds of our society, and gossip doesn't tent to jump class barriers.
Alex and Shannon Green had to change their names and move away after the Social Services paid a call to their parents. Apparently the old rumour from school that they used to fuck each other had reached the ears of the authorities and they had a few questions to ask their mum and dad. What started out as a cruel playground taunt ended up destroying their family. The parents believed the rumours. Cookie says that they left pretty much the next day.
Cookie himself left little over a year ago. His email read like an obituary for the place I grew up in. The Estate was four blocks of flats, facing one another to form a square. Each block was three stories high with four apartments on each level. The inside of the square (we called it The Yard) contained a run down playground that acted as a base of operations for our estates gang. Night or day you could walk down to the yard and get anything from cocaine and a hand job to a gun and a newborn baby.
The overly complicated network of corridors, stairwells and walkways that linked the blocks together stank of stale garbage and cum, and was patrolled by groups of abandoned kids, playing with drugs and knives to pass the time while their mothers drank themselves to death in front of the television.
Cookie paints quite a picture. He was emailed a link to a website one day showing a video of his daughter sucking the dicks of three black kids from the building opposite. They had squealed with laughter every night as he came home from work, but he'd thought that he was just the butt of some harmless joke. He'd got a bit fat recently and kids love fat jokes.
The video had been online for a week and he recognised some of the names of the people who had commented on it. He wasn't happy, Cookie. He kicked down the front door of the ring-leaders house in a fit of rage. There was a time when Cookies name meant he could walk through any neighbourhood in London without trouble. But this time he got his cheek nicked with the end of a hunting knife and slapped around in front of the whole Estate. Being slapped around by a kid twenty years younger than you in front of your friends and family can destroy a man. He had no choice but to leave really.
My sister Ashley sent me the link to the video. The little girl that I'd met from time to time had become a slutty little eighteen year old. She looked a lot like Cookies wife but at that age she hadn't developed the huge tits and fat arse of her mother. She sucked cock like her though. The video was filmed on a mobile phone and I imagined I was part of it every time I watched it.
She was wearing a tiny black dress, but looked so young in it that you could be excused for thinking she was wearing it to a fancy dress party. I couldn't have stretched that little black number over my arm, but she fit into it like a dream.
The video started with lots of hooting and hollering. Lots of talk about skinny ass white girls and big black cocks. I watched it half with dread and 50% excitement. When a huge hand lifted her dress over her arse and pulled her cheeks apart, I imagined how my thick hard prick would feel sliding into that pinched arsehole.
Watching a ten inch black cock slide into your friend's daughter is something you don't forget lightly. I lay in my cot in Afghanistan many a night recalling what I'd seen online, my cock in my hand, my muscles tense with anticipation.
They called me the Club in the barracks as apparently I could do damage with my cock. It was ten inches from base to the rim of my helmet. The tip itself was fat and twice the girth of the shaft, and right then I had my left hand gripped tightly around it.
I was circumcised so I liked to masturbate with lube, but on occasion I'd "rough" one out, and that night was one of those nights. Both hands under the covers, stroking my rock hard cock while thinking of Cookies girl with a dick in her arse, a dick in her mouth and a dick in each hand.
I often wondered whether Cookie made it to the end of the video, to see his little Emily blowing spunk bubbles out of her nose and thrusting three fingers into her own arse. I assume the skinny white kid in the corner was her boyfriend watching his coke debt get paid off.
The lads in the barracks at Bastion watched every second. They loved the video and I've got to admit, it got me hard thinking of how much they loved it. Emily was the most popular girl at camp until I shared my sister Connie's emails with them. Those are stories for another day though.
It was going to be strange going home without Cookie being there. He didn't feel a great deal older than me but he'd acted like a father figure ever since I was a child. He was always friends with what ever bloke my mum was fucking at the time so he was always around.
I remember sitting in the kitchen of our flat with him when I was about fourteen, talking about football, while Terry and his mates played naked Twister with Mum in the living room one Christmas Eve. Apparently it ended up with the arrow landing on three dicks in the pink circle. My only other memory of that night is Mums mascara running down her cheek when she came to see me in bed, and the taste of white wine and spunk on her tongue when she kissed me goodnight. He was a good man Cookie.
About four years after I'd joined the army I'd been selected for operations that I can't really talk about, but they were the kind of jobs that meant you got your affairs in order before you left otherwise they might not get done. After a few attempts at my password I managed to get into my emails and found one from Cookie dated a month after I'd left. It simply read:
"Mate, if I was you, I would have fucked your mum too"