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Fifty Cent Piece

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This is the first chapter in a short series. I hope you enjoy it. Constructive feedback is very welcome. All rights reserved, © Northern_One, 2012.

I dumped the bag of shopping on the passenger seat and slammed shut the door of my old van. Leaving the tiny village store behind me I set off into the howling gale and pouring rain, the decrepit wipers barely clearing the windscreen. My destination was a campground that I’d been to before but the roads weren’t exactly familiar so I didn’t hurry. I didn’t have any reason to, as long as I made it there before it got dark. I’d been on the road all day and was looking forward to a hot shower, a beer and something to eat but, the better part of valour being discretion, I wanted to arrive in one piece.

I’d been exploring the South Island for about six weeks now and time wasn’t really an issue for me. Pretty much everything I owned was in this ancient old van and I was, I kept reminding myself, living my dream. If I was honest the dream was supposed to look a little different; the passenger seat was supposed to be occupied by my girlfriend Amelia rather than a bag of baked beans and beer but then perhaps the dream had been mine more than hers after all. Anyway, she’d assured me we’d pick thing up again when I got home although a nagging voice in my head told me this was less and less likely. New Zealand had been my idea, it was true, but five months spent sleeping in a van, windsurfing and mountain biking our way around this rugged, beguiling country was surely what every girl dreamed of, no?

The rain eased off and I was able to relax a little, less fearful about what the next blind corner might bring with it. I saw a sign advertising the campground and started to recognise the odd distinguishing feature along the road. I’d been here a few weeks before and had found a great beach just metes from the campground. It was a perfect, unspoilt spot with an ideal prevailing wind and the potential for some great waves. Would I have been happier at home with Amelia? My career as a copywriter, if you could call it that, was hardly fulfilling my every wish and perhaps our outlooks on life were less compatible than they’d seemed when in the early throes of passion. The fact that I was on one side of the world and she was on the other certainly said something even if I didn’t want to admit to myself exactly what that thing was.

The let up in the weather was a temporary one but the campground wasn’t far now. I squinted through the windscreen and could just make out the wet road. Water was running across it in miniature waves and I had slowed to a crawl. I rounded a bend and with a sigh of relief saw the entrance.

Although not a glamorous means of transport my van was warm and very easy when it came to setting up for the night. I didn’t have to faff around with a tent and I was extremely glad of that now. The van really was just that, it had been a workman’s minibus before I’d done a quick conversion job by ripping out the seats and replacing them with a full double bed, legs and all. There was plenty of room underneath it for storage and it was as comfortable as my bed at home. I’d even strung up some makeshift curtains. The campground was pretty empty, only a few other campervans and a couple of drenched tents around. I knew from my previous visit that it wasn’t staffed and relied on an honesty box system. Facilities were minimal — a unisex toilet block with one shower cubicle, a washing-up area and that was pretty much it. I also knew from my previous visit that the shower was wonderfully hot and powerful, providing one had a fifty cent piece to make it work. These silver coins were like gold dust last time I’d been here and I’d made sure to ask for one in my change from the little village store I’d stopped at.

I parked the van within sprinting distance of the shower block and closed my eyes for a few seconds. The drive had been difficult and I was in dire need of a relaxing shower. I grimaced upwards, trying to search out any signs of the rain relenting but it was a mass of grey above me. Deciding an early night was good for me anyway, I climbed into the back of the van to collect my wash things then, clutching the all-important coin, opened the door and made a run for it.

I made it to the shower block in seconds but still arrived soaked. There was only one shower and it was occupied when I tried the door.

“Won’t be a minute,” the occupant called out.

Slightly annoyed by this rude disruption to my immediate plans I pocketed my fifty cents and went to the sink to clean my teeth. As I brushed I looked in the mirror and took stock of what I saw: scruffy dirty blond hair, a couple of days’ growth, a bit tired looking but not too bad considering the drive. Amelia had always told me my green eyes were my best feature and despite being a touch bloodshot, they still had the glint that she had liked so much. I was in pretty good shape from all the sport I was doing, if not exactly professional athlete şişli grup yapan escort standard but beneath my faded hoody and cargo shorts I could have been pretty much any mid-20s backpacker bumming around until the money ran out.

The door opened and I glanced in the mirror to see who had come in. The new arrival had their anorak hood up but by their height and build I guessed it was a female. I finished at the sink and turned round, heading towards the shower cubicle where I would wait my turn.

The newcomer was standing reading the sign that explained the workings of the shower and, having lowered her hood, I could see it was indeed a female. She smiled a quick hello then began searching inside her anorak pockets. She must have been around 5′ 7”, had bobbed blonde hair and wore black shorts and flip flops below her bright blue anorak. Straight away I noticed her slender, toned legs and silver ankle bracelet. Amelia had always teased me about my mild ankle fetish and the sight of that little chain around a slim, tanned ankle sparked off involuntary lustful thoughts in my mind.

“Do you know how to work this thing?” she suddenly asked, turning to look at me. She had a sing-song accent that I couldn’t immediately place, but her English was perfect. She was stunning and her appearance made me lose the power of speech for a second. Her bobbed blonde hair framed a ridiculously pretty face; her eyes were startlingly blue, her lips red and full and her high cheekbones and strong jawline gave her an unmistakeably Scandinavian look.

“Err, err… yeah I do,” I stuttered.

“Oookaay, that’s good,” she said with a slight giggle. “Could you tell me what to do then?” she asked, a cheeky smile spreading across her face.

I’d been caught completely off guard by the way she looked and I did my best to gather my composure. The way she smiled at me though made me think it wasn’t the first time a man had been struck dumb in her presence.

“Umm, you need a fifty cent piece. Have you got one? It’s a great shower though, lovely and warm and powerful. I’ve been here before, a few weeks ago. I bet you need a shower with all this rain, it’s like being at home,” I blurted out, my mouth operating far faster than my brain.

She gave another little giggle.

“I guess you’re English then?” she asked as she continued to feel around in her pockets, presumably for a purse.

“Yep, English here. Well, British really I suppose. My Mum’s Scottish and my Dad’s Welsh so I’m not really English at all. I was born there though so maybe I am. Who knows?” I laughed nervously whilst inside I begged my brain to get a grip and stop me babbling like a fool. “Where are you from, Sweden by any chance?”

“I’m from Norway actually, good try though!”

“Oh great, I’d love to go there sometime. I bet it’s a bit like home for you here too then, what with the fjords and everything?”

“I suppose so,” she replied. “I’m from Oslo though so we don’t have many fjords there,” she grinned.

“What about the weather though? Is it similar to England?” My toes curled at my latest inane question. Asking about the weather? What had happened to me? I wasn’t used to being such a blethering imbecile but then again I suppose I wasn’t used to making small talk with a girl who looked as though she could make even Rupert Everett think twice about the gender of his partner. And then there was that ankle bracelet.

“I haven’t been to England, I’m afraid,” she replied. Her smile seemed to fade slightly.

I needed to pull myself together before she decided I was a simpleton. In my defence I’d been driving all day and had only come in expecting a shower but how often was I going to have the opportunity to chat to someone who was, to my eye at least, model-material, and friendly with it.

“Sorry,” I laughed, giving her my best handsome yet intelligent smile. “You know us Brits, obsessed with the weather. I’m Sam, by the way”.

“Hi Sam, I’m Anna.”

We shook hands. I prayed that my palm wasn’t too clammy. As Anna retrieved her hand from mine the shower cubicle door opened and a man about my age emerged, towelling his hair dry.

“Shower’s free guys”, he said as he walked past. “Probably not much point in drying my hair though eh?”

“Nope, still pissing down,” I told him.

“My god, you are obsessed!” said Anna with a laugh as the guy steeled himself before braving the maelstrom outside.

I cringed again but Anna, having found her purse, was trying to find the all-important coin. Ever the gentleman, and now desperately trying to make up for my ineptitude thus far, I invited Anna to jump ahead of me in the queue and use the shower.

“Damn,” she exclaimed, stamping her foot in frustration. “I haven’t got fifty cents. Have you got change?” she asked, holding up a five dollar note.

Now I was faced with a dilemma. Did my chivalry stretch far enough to give Anna my sole fifty cent şişli masöz escort piece, thereby denying myself the one thing that had kept me going all day or was it time I looked out for number one? I had, after all, gone to the effort of ensuring I had the requisite coin — Anna clearly hadn’t been a girl guide. The rain was still lashing down outside the shower block, its tin roof made each drop sound like a ball bearing and the force of the wind was causing the door and window to rattle violently. I looked at Anna as she stood in front of me, her useless five dollars in her hand. She was probably used to getting whatever she wanted from men, merely by pouting her lips and fluttering her eyelids. No, I thought, for once I’m not going to be swayed by blonde hair, a sexy smile and a perfect figure. I needed this bloody shower. I deserved it after that drive. I glanced at her ankle, encircled by the little silver chain. The heavens and wind combined to apparently hurl another load of shotgun pellets at the flimsy roof.

“Shit, I’m really sorry Anna, I’ve only got this one,” I said, taking the coin from my pocket.

She looked crestfallen. A little frown spread across her forehead and her bottom lip came out a little. For all I knew she’d had as bad a day as me. I felt genuinely sorry but she was a stranger and I was in need. OK, she was an extraordinarily attractive stranger but I really had no obligation to help her and put myself out.

“Sorry, I feel bad,” I said again, a little sheepishly.

Her expression brightened and she lifted her head.

“Oh it’s OK, don’t be silly.” She slapped me playfully on the arm. “I’ll just have to stay stinky!”

“Why do I find it hard to believe you could ever be stinky?” I laughed.

Anna looked at me, her head cocked to one side.

“Oh Sam, you’re so sweet.” There was a playful tone to her voice, or was it just her accent?

I made to move past her, towards the shower cubicle but Anna stepped to her left, blocking me. She put her hand to my chest.

“There is a way round this, you know.”

“Umm, is there?” I said dumbly.

“Yes, silly!” She gently slapped me again. “We could share?”

For the second time in five minutes I was rendered speechless. Had this Norwegian goddess really just invited me to share a shower with her? I looked at her, my mouth opening and closing like an idiot. Anna grinned at me.

“We’ll be saving water,” she laughed as yet another tidal wave of rain crashed against the window.

My mind was racing. Was this an innocent proposal that would mean we both could have a shower or was it something more? I’d never been the sharpest when it came to picking up sexual signals from girls. Visions of all the opportunities I’d missed over the years flashed before me. I couldn’t let this chance go begging, even if Anna had nothing dirtier in mind than getting clean. At the very least I’d have some amazing mental images to wank over for the rest of my life.

I took a deep breath. “Err, Ok then,” I managed. “If you’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure silly,” she giggled, turning towards the open door.

The cubicle was small, as it would be, having been designed for one person. There was a hook on the back of the door and a shelf above it. Anna slipped off her anorak and hung it on the hook, then locked the door. She kicked off her flip flops and unzipped her shorts, wiggling her hips to help her pull them down. I stood gormlessly in the corner, transfixed by her golden, shapely legs now only encumbered by a plain pair of black knickers.

Anna looked at me as she stood up, having folded her shorts and put them on the shelf.

“Come on Sam,” she laughed, “stop being so English. British, whatever you are!”

I muttered an apology and told myself to get it together. I reminded myself that we were there to shower, it wasn’t a big deal. I began to undress and tried not to stare too hard.

By the time I was down to my boxer shorts Anna had lined up a row of bottles on the floor of the shower and was taking off her watch. She was completely naked, save for the silver chain that kept catching my eye. Her body matched her face in its flawlessness — full, pert breasts with prominent, pinky-brown nipples, a deliciously ripe-looking bottom, as pert as her tits, perfectly smooth skin, evenly tanned save for where her bikini covered her and, when she turned to face me, a neatly shaved pussy with only a narrow strip of blonde pubic hair. She smiled at me as I gawped at her.

“Come on Sam, we haven’t got all day!”

As she spoke she reached in front of her and whipped down my boxer shorts, squealing with laughter as she did. She looked me up and down. Fortunately I was far too discombobulated by the whole situation to be in danger of embarrassing myself with an inappropriate erection, in fact I hoped I wasn’t so perturbed that I would appear deficient in my masculine development.

“Very nice,” şişli otele gelen escort she said. “Now, we’ve both seen each other — let’s get wet!”

I snapped out of my dazed state, still trying to comprehend exactly how I’d come to be sharing a tiny shower cubicle with a Scandinavian supermodel, and retrieved the all-essential coin from my shorts’ pocket. I started the mechanism and we both stepped under its blissful cascade.

As I remembered the shower was hot and powerful and just what I needed. Anna seemed to be enjoying it too. The steam rose all around us and the air filled with the clean, fresh scents of her shampoo and cleansers. She stood in front of me and I had the not at all disappointing view of her back and bum. As we lathered ourselves I allowed myself to take in as much of my showering partner’s attributes as I could. The hot water glistened on her golden skin as she washed, the suds sliding down the smooth form of her body towards her slender waist. At the base of her back, above her peachy bottom were two dimples. As she moved under the shower, her tits sporadically came into view and I had to resist the almost overwhelming temptation to reach out and hold them. The dimensions of the cubicle meant that every so often one of us would accidentally bump into the other. At first each touch was followed by a polite apology but soon we forgot the niceties and accepted the inadvertent touches as inevitable.

Anna remained with her back to me and as I washed and relaxed under the hot water I decided this was probably for the best as I was starting to enjoy the experience. Despite some noticeable tingles my cock hadn’t yet started to misbehave but I didn’t want to increase the risk of embarrassment for both of us. My powers of concentration were about to be severely challenged, however.

“Sam, please would you wash my back?”

I froze for a second before taking the offered bottle. Was this an invitation to do more or an innocent request? Of course I’d wash her back, what sane man wouldn’t? This could be it, I thought, maybe this was her plan all along. Whatever, I’d still have the chance to touch her perfect body properly without freaking her out. Just relax, I told myself. She’s an uninhibited European – this is probably a common occurrence for her.

I poured some of her lotion onto my hand and, pausing for a second to prepare myself, began to massage her back and shoulders. Her skin was as smooth to the touch as it was to the eye and I gently moved my soapy palms around her body, inhaling the flowery aromas, all my senses fully alert to absorb the experience. My hands moved from her shoulders, down her back to her dimples, then back to her shoulders and I took the opportunity to press a little more firmly, massaging her with my thumbs. Anna murmured quietly in appreciation and I took this as a sign to continue. I rubbed up and down her body, circling my hands, sometimes pressing more firmly when I saw fit. I dared to explore a little further, massaging up and down her arms and around her waist. I wasn’t brave enough to go further than the small of her back, my fingertips only grazing the tops of her buttocks, fearful that I’d overstep the mark and bring this glorious experience to a premature end.

The combination of the heat, the relaxing cataracts of the shower and the feel of a nubile Nord under my hands were beginning to affect my judgement, though, and my concentration was slipping. I’d overcome my initial British reserve and was thoroughly relaxed and, as a consequence, nature was beginning to take its course. As I explored Anna’s back with my hands the inevitable happened and the tingles in my groin became something more obvious. Blood was rushing to my cock and it rose from the terrified state in which it had so far remained until I was fully erect, pointing somewhere up Anna’s back. I stepped back a little to give myself more room but the confines of the cubicle meant I had nowhere to go. Anna shifted her position under the powerful jets and inadvertently brushed against my erection. My cock lurched at the touch and sent a bolt of electricity through my groin and into my stomach. I stopped for a second, praying Anna hadn’t realised what the protuberance in her back actually was but she gave no indication that she had noticed it.

Having assured myself I was in the clear I resumed my lathering despite the raging hard on, emboldened by Anna’s oblivion to my aroused state.

“You could go a little lower if you like?” she said, half looking over her shoulder.

My hormones now fully engaged, I didn’t need to be asked twice and I slipped my hands onto her soft, peachy bum. Gently squeezing her exquisite rump I gave up caring whether my cock came into contact with her and when Anna deliberately stepped back I was given no choice. We were now just inches apart and the tip of my erection sat upright, propped against her back.

“How long will this last, Sam?” she asked.

Continuing to rub her sumptuous arse I wondered what she was referring to.

“The shower, I mean,” she asked with a giggle.

“Mmm, quite a while I think. How long have we been here?”

Suddenly turning to face me, Anna looked at me and beamed. “I’m not sure, I kind of lost track.”

She looked down at my cock, its head pointing straight up at her.

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