When Dean awoke that morning the first, and only thought he had was coffee.
He took one look at the hotel’s pitiful ‘brew your own instant Cappuccino’ machine on the side board and fled for the street. He knew that the English were famous for their obsession with Tea but at least some of them had to like coffee, surely?
To his surprise, Nottingham appeared to have at least one café on every other street corner. Steering away from the big brand chain stores he saw a small family run shop that seemed to offer exactly what he was wanting.
Like a zombie on a mission he headed towards the entrance. The queue wasn’t long and he kept himself occupied by reading the menu, which had been chalked on a giant board behind the shop assistants heads.
Apologies for the delay on this chapter. A number of people have asked that I make my chapters a bit longer, so I hope this is more to your liking. It’s a big one. As per previous chapters the same warnings apply, dark content and dubious consent lie within. I will also add that this chapter contains MMF scenes, so bear that in mind as well.
As always feedback and comments brighten my day, and I hope you all enjoy.
This picks up where the short chapter from the New Year left off
Half an hour after he got off the train Dean was staring out of the window of a taxi, taking in the strange sandstone houses and small winding roads of the UK. He watched the people of Nottingham go about their business, studiously ignoring one another as they did so. The light in this part of the world was strangely blue, and he found himself staring at the oddly grey/black colour pallet that the people here chose to wear. No wonder the English thought the rest of the world was so loud and brash. They walked around as if they were attending a funeral every day.
A car horn honked and he saw a glum-looking man turn his collar up against the drizzle that was starting to fall.