PVC Outlawed

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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JellyMan
Posts: 1112
Joined: June 23rd, 2019, 6:47 pm
Location: South of England

PVC Outlawed

Post by JellyMan »

Not explicit.

Dave grabbed the brown parcel and ducked up the stairs as quickly as he could, with barely enough time to thank the postman. In his room he locked the door and sat on the bed with his prize. The package was tantalisingly squidgy and heavy. He waited for his mother to shout upstairs, but heard nothing, so he ripped at the brown paper like a little boy on Christmas morning. A small piece of paper fell to the floor, unnoticed, thanking him for his purchase in both English and Chinese. Dave tore at the cellophane within the package. He pulled out the black raincoat. His first impression was that the feel was wrong. This was quickly followed by visual evidence that the original vintage PVC mac was in fact a cheap polyester raincoat with virtually no shine, and definitely not what was listed and shown on the website. He sat back in disappointment and threw the whole package in the bin, but this was more for dramatic effect as he needed to get rid of the evidence before his mother saw it. It had been three years since he had seen a real PVC raincoat for sale. The material was now considered number one planet killer by eco warriors and manufacturers had long ago stopped using it. Now the world existed in the vintage market, but anyone caught wearing vinyl in public was castigated as if they were single handedly responsible for the melting polar ice caps. Plant-based plastic alternatives were the answer briefly, but as the public could not distinguish them from real PVC, sales plummeted and now nothing was sold with a shiny surface unless it was extremely obvious that it was not in any way linked to the plastics of old. Then, as global temperatures hit new highs, the government passed a number of laws, including banning plastics outright.

Dave tapped the keyboard furtively, as if doing so would enhance the clandestine nature of his enquiry. PVCFanny had replied with confirmation of the event date, now he just needed the venue and password for entry. He hoped it was not all a scam, as so many crooks had been exploiting rainwear fans, passing off items not as described, or sometimes taking money and sending nothing. He had even been sent a coat badly cut and sewn out of an old bin bag; he suspected the seller thought they were actually doing the right thing as cellophane and related products were equally banned as soft, shiny and delicious PVC. The email came in, the venue details were there in front of him, his heart pounded, he was all set for Friday evening, now all he needed to do was to work out how to get there on public transport and evade his mothers questioning.

After college on Friday Dave needed to move quickly in order to get all that way in just two hours. He was in his room and pulled back the rug on the floor to expose bare floorboards. He pressed the corner of one board and the other end dutifully lifted, allowing it to be removed. He quickly, but quietly removed the other two boards, being careful to be silent so as not to raise any suspicions downstairs. The small brown suitcase was there, to his relief, and he opened it. Inside was his small collection of items that he had managed to acquire over the years that he had been interested in PVC rainwear. He lifted his prized possession, a black PVC shiny raincoat that took up most of the small case on its own. Under it were some other garments, and nestled at the bottom, a pair of clear plastic pants. He always wanted pants that would seal him inside with elasticated legs, but these were more like running shorts. He dropped his trousers and swapped his boxers for the slippery vinyl, instantly getting a thrill from the cool material. He stashed his boxers, put his trousers on over the plastic underwear, and carefully replaced the case. His heart pounded as the thoughts of what might possible happen later enter his head; he had never been to a rainwear event and certainly never met anyone else like himself in person.

It was dark as the bus pulled up to the stop, and Dave got a pleasing feeling as cool air rushed into his warm slippery pants. The felling grew as he entered the cold night air. As the air brakes hissed, and the bus pulled away, Dave suddenly felt quite scared. If he was discovered in plastic shorts he’d be arrested. He had never ventured out of the house in PVC since the eco law was passed. Anyone found in possession of most plastic items was a criminal; it was like ivory, first they banned new plastic, then eventually, when it became impossible to trace old or new, all were illegal. He was feeling very vulnerable in an unknown area of an unknown town, alone, and about to commit more criminal acts.

Dave had walked for about two miles after getting off the bus. He was cold, but otherwise wired for the encounter that he hoped was about to unfold. He toyed with the envelope in his coat pocket and felt guilty at pawning his mother’s necklace to raise the funds that he needed. He rounded the corner and, there in front of him, was a ramshackle low building a 100 metres over across a gravelled area. There were lights on in the building, but no noise. He approached cautiously, trying not to draw attention to himself, until he was standing in front of what, he presumed, was the front door. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again, but still nothing. He turned to leave, but as he did he heard a click. He turned and saw a panel next to the door, that he hadn’t seen before, with a green light and a grille.
“Password”, a deep voice growled. Dave froze, he felt worried, then leaned forward and said “stutterheim” into the grille. There was a pause, then a click, which Dave took rightly to mean the door was unlocked,

Two weeks earlier Dave was checking the dark net site that he had been given by Samantha’s friend. It seemed as legitimate as anything dodgy could be. There were plenty of sites showing pictures and videos of people in PVC; it wasn’t against the law to show vintage footage from before the ban, so the images that greeted him were not surprising. But after signing up, and confirming his age with his father’s credit card details, he was admitted. In the depths of the site was content that said it was recently shot. But what he really wanted to find was the link to events. Over the next few days he was put through a number of tests to prove his authenticity as a rainwear lover, until finally he had the golden egg, the first email.
Samantha was his best friend. They had known each other since they were children, but were only friends, much to Dave’s disappointment. She was the only person who knew of his desires. She was sympathetic, but could not demonstrate how good a friend she was by wearing anything for him, as she didn’t own any rainwear that he was interested in.

The corridor was dimly lit with a single red bulb, giving it a very seedy feel. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. There was no one there. He followed the corridor to another door. He could hear voices on the other side. Slowly he opened it and peeked through. Inside he saw people seated and chatting, the chairs were arranged in two sets of rows facing each other. The room was quite dark, but he managed to stumble forward to find a spare seat. He sat down on the end of a line of seats next to a large lady in a boring matte trench coat, not at all shiny or made of anything that was appealing to him. He glanced around and saw that there was no shiny rainwear anywhere and began to wonder if he was in the right place. Suddenly he was aware of a flicker of light next to him. He glanced up to see a girl holding a tray. She was wearing in a black PVC dress. It was sleeveless and very short. This was the first time he had seen a real person wearing PVC for at least two years. “Can I get you a drink sir?”, she asked.
He smiled, “eh, Coke please”, he replied.
“Certainly”, she said, “but can I please take your membership fee”.
Dave fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope, and handed it over, “it’s all there, £500, as agreed”.
She smiled as she took it from him.

Suddenly the lights went up, and a voice said “welcome friends, please give a big hand for our first items, and please have your credit cards at the ready”.
Dave was worried because of that statement, was he required to pay more? All he had bought was the required fee; apart from that he only had £42, some of which he would need to get home.
Some music started up, then suddenly everyone took out their phones. Some people had proper cameras. Sensing something about to happen, Dave pulled out his own iPhone.

The waitress appeared next to him and handed Dave a tall glass and a pamphlet.
“Er, how much”, Dave said nervously, “first drink is complimentary”, she said sweetly to him, “I hope you enjoy the evening”, she added. As she turned her dress lifted slightly with the motion and the student got a brief glimpse of some bare buttock - the evening was already looking worth the punishment he would get from his parents later.
He looked at the paper, and opened it. Inside was a list - items with descriptions and prices. The first item said “RN01 - PVC cagoule with pockets and drawstring Hem, available in these colours and materials. Please note that the hood is optional”. The price was an eye-watering £1,187. He glanced down the list and realised that he jacket was one of the cheaper items, the lowest price being £899 for a small pair of ladies PVC briefs. Dave was worried that making a purchase might be mandatory, and although he had lifted his fathers credit card to register, he had not taken it with him.
Suddenly a figure appeared from between some curtains at the front of the room. A girl. She was wearing a basic denim mini skirt, cotton tee shirt and black suede boots, but also the cagoule described at the top of the list, in a slightly transparent pink plastic material. Dave felt a stiffness inside his plastic pants. She girl proceeded to walk down the room on a pretend runway between the rows of seats. As Dave was at the end, he was right where the girl stoped. He was looking up at the most gorgeous vision since the waitress from earlier. He was so enthralled by what he saw that he forgot about his phone, and only remembered just as the girl disappeared back behind the curtains.
He did not make the mistake the second time, as another girl strutted out, wearing thigh-length black PVC boots; like the first model her other clothes wear all normal, except for the one item that appeared in the catalogue.
Dave glanced at the paper and gulped at the £3,000 price tag. But he was videoing the event for later fun.
The evening proceeded with thee models showing off all manner of rainwear and associated items in rotation. The dark-haired girl who wore the pink jacket at the start was his favourite, and although he loved all the items presented before him, he was annoyed that he hadn’t captured that first item as it was his favourite.
Then Dave glanced at his smart watch, it was just coming up to 10pm when the last item, an SBR trench coat was paraded in front of him. The lights went higher and the waitress who had served him, accompanied by several others, dressed in the same PVC outfits, came into the room. There were also men in PVC sleeveless vests and tight shiny trousers. Each was pushing a trolley laden with items stacked up.
People stood up and walked towards the trolleys, some getting out wallets as they did so.
Dave started to worry about whether he could get away without buying anything, he would dearly love to own everything paraded in from of him that night, but there was no way he could afford even the cheapest item.
He turned and started to walk slowly towards the door, trying not to draw attention to going against the flow.
“My dear boy, where are you going?”, an older gentleman in a very fancy maroon velvet jacket asked.
“I have to go, my taxi is waiting, and I have college in the morning”, he offered.
“But the fun is just getting started, surely you can miss a few lectures for some exquisite rainwear action?”
Dave was a bit worried, but also excited at the man’s suggestion, “what on earth does he mean”, he wondered, as fe felt a hand on his shoulder which was firm, and seemed to lead him to turn around.

Dave was nervous. There was Samantha standing in front of him wearing only her bra and knickers, he was struggling to keep his manhood out of sight as it strained against his jeans. She slipped into a blue velvet dress and turned around, “be a darling and zip me up please”, she asked. He did as best he could with trembling hands, his fingers just millimetres from her lovely soft pale skin.
“Now what we’re you going to tell me, something about a raincoat?”, she quizzed.
“Erm, yes, I was just saying, when you mentioned about always wanting a black shiny raincoat, I wondered what you meant”, he offered.
“Oh, that was years ago, and I was drunk, but a friend of mine, Alex, showed me their PVC raincoat and I said she looked sexy in it, And maybe I would like one”.
“But you never got one?”, Dave offered, in hope of her saying she had one secretly stashed away.
“No, and a bloody good job too, it would be no use now if I had one”.
“I agree”.
“What that is would be no use”, she looked puzzled
“No”, Dave relied, “that you would look sexy in it”.
Her face froze. You could have heard a pin drop. Dave suddenly felt embarrassed, having never mentioned anything that could indicate more that just great friendship, and now this bombshell.
“Well, er”, she looked uncomfortable, Dave was a great friend, her best male friend, he had only ever been her Dave, the idea that he might comment like that made her think he might want more, but he never said anything before, never invited her on a date.
“I mean, any girl would look sexy in a mac like that”, he blurted.
She seemed a tad relieved, “well I suppose so”.
“I confess I have always thought shiny raincoats were sexy”, he added, and in an unintentional way had confessed his obsession whilst trying to diffuse an awkward moment. In truth, had she shown any sign of reciprocating his feelings for her he would have there and then vowed never to wear plastic again and whisked her off to live together for eternity. Until of course she came round to his way of thinking on the subject of shiny rainwear.
“I suppose it would have been a bit of fun”, she said, “possibly even more so for being illegal now”, she mused.
“Yes probably, but I guess we will never know”, he teased, “but say, if I could find a mac, would you model it, you know, for fun?”
“Hell no!”, she said sharply, “it’s illegal and stupid, in any case where would YOU get one?”
“Well, let’s say I did?, might be naughty to have a go.”
She didn’t reply, she felt the conversation was turning weird, why all of a sudden all this interest in her wearing a PVC mac, was he some sort of flasher, “I won’t be back this evening, gotta rush, see yourself out”.
And she was gone.

Dave found himself being ushered away from the exit and back into the room. The older chap was very smooth and friendly, “come on let’s have a browse together?”, he offered.
They stood next to a young man, muscular and tattooed with abs that could be seen through the tight PVC top. His trolley was stacked with shiny boots, a pair on top as an example, and pairs neatly arranged underneath ready for sale in various colours and sizes.
“Do you like these?”, the man asked, still with a hand firmly on Dave’s shoulder.
“They are not really my style, but I couldn’t afford them anyway”, was the reply.
“Well, maybe if I bought them for you, you could model them? Make an old chap very happy for a short while?”, the gentleman spotted that Dave’s attention was elsewhere, so he guided him towards the object of his gaze.
Dave thought he might be blushing. The girl in from of him was one of the models, the first one, the one that wore the pink plastic jacket. She was gorgeous, and in many ways reminded him of Samantha. But unlike Samantha he had seen this girl wearing sexy rainwear, and now stood before him in the shiny black mini dress that all the girls were wearing. For a moment he wished had had borrowed his dad’s credit card!
The old chap picked up the garment from the top of the girl’s pile, “maybe this is your style?”, Dave suspected it was the very same jacket she had worn on the catwalk earlier.
“Very nice, maybe not in pink, but nice, and still way too pricy for me”.
The man stood back and eyed Dave, then pawed through the pile until he found what he wanted, “this one”, he said, handing it to the girl. She smiled, “cash or card?”
“Oh my dear, nothing quite so vulgar, charge it to my account, I think you’ll find I have credit!”
The girl seemed embarrassed as a look of realisation went across her face, “oh, of course Mr. McDonald, I do apologise”, and she handed the item back to him.
He passed it to Dave, “for you my boy, if you would do me the honour of modelling it?”
Dave immediately thought of those words, so similar to what he had asked Samantha, and he recalled the feeling of being rebuffed.
“Just to wear it? Nothing else?”
“Yes my boy”, was the reply.
“Just put it on? Is that all you want me to do?”
“Absolutely, but maybe do a little walk, down the runway, here, a little show, what do you think?”
The student looked down, the item was the same jacket the girl had worn, but in black PVC. He touched it and got an immediate zing from the cool, smooth, surface. “Ok, for you, I will do it for YOU”.
The man seemed genuinely pleased, “splendid my boy, and maybe this lovely young lady could show you a few pointers on how to make a show of it, out there”, and he swept an arm round in the general direction of the makeshift catwalk painted on the floor.
Dave’s heart sank, he would be on show to the whole room, that was not what he was expecting. The most he had ever done in a public performance was to play lead trout in the school play; he always wondered if being made to wear a shiny silver plastic fish costume in public started his obsession with the material. He was worried, but also a bit excited.

Dave’s heart was pounding as he went behind the curtain with the beautiful girl. They were alone. For a moment he got lost in her deep green eyes until she snapped him out of it, “it’s all about showing off the clothes, not you. Make a statement but don’t forget, the designer’s work is what they want to see, not you”.
“That’s not entirely true”, Dave replied. She looked a bit cross at the statement.
“I only had eyes for you out there, as lovely as the jacket was, you were more beautiful”, he schmoozed.
She snapped, “then I wasn’t doing my job right!”, but then she softened, “but thanks for the compliment, but it will take lot more than that to get under this”, and she lifted the edge of her dress hem provocatively, “now put this on and get out there, you have an audience out there”.
The idea that there was a slim chance of being with the model made Dave’s heart skip a beat; she had not said no!
Dave slipped off his top and pulled the shiny jacket on over the white tee shirt, revelling in the cool feeling against his bare arms.
The girl stepped forward and helped him do the zip up, “not all the way up, work it, when you get to the end unzip it and put your hands on your hips, and work work it some more”.
Dave smiled. She smiled back, “not bad, now move your arse”,and she slapped him quite hard across the buttocks. The feeling was quite nice, especially in his extremely warm and damp plastic shorts underneath.
Music started and Dave took his place at the end of the runway, then strode out sort of confidently. It wasn’t just the old gentleman and a few other watching, but the whole room.

Most of the audience had slipped on their various purchases and now the room was a sea of shiny outfits. Mr.McDonald was wearing a fetching PVC trench coat, belted and done all the way up, with the collar turned out. A young man was wearing the same jacket that Dave had on, except his was the pink that the model wore - obviously it had made an impression on someone else. A rare person in the room was an older, larger lady, who wasn’t a member of staff. Earlier she had been wearing a plain blue dress, but was now conspicuous having changed entirely into form-fitting black PVC jeans and a short vinyl mac in a deep red colour. Dave thought the combination was stunning and especially so for the calf-length black lace-up boots with stiletto heels that completed the slightly dominatrix look.

He composed himself and carried on, thinking of how models on catwalks he had seen would strut their stuff, and remembered to make the jacket star of the scene. He placed his hands in the pockets at one point, then pulled up the hood and casually tied off the thin rope below his chin, revelling in the smooth material around his face. He placed his arms crossed around his front so they were touching the back of the jacket in a self-hug. Then he realised he had come to the end of the catwalk and wasn’t sure what to do next. The hesitation in his face must have showed as he looked down at Mr.McDonald who was smiling and gesturing to Dave to carry on. So the student struck some standing poses getting ever more into the feel of the vinyl jacket and started to lose his inhibitions. The audience were obviously enjoying the show as he got wolf-whistles and cheers. He was loving the attention, and the fact that he was openly wearing a plastic rain jacket in front of other people was so liberating. He had now done three trips up and down the catwalk and was starting to wonder what else he could do, as he was running out of ideas and the audience seemed keen for him not to stop. Then he unbuckled his belt and slid it out, thankfully it obliged in one smooth movement, as if it had been rehearsed. He played with the leather strap againt the PVC garment, hinting at options for bondage, but only in a subtle way. All the men looking on were now cheering, and even the girl waitresses and models seemed to be joining in. Dave was getting lost in the adoration he was getting. Then he undid the top button of his jeans and let the waistband part slightly revealing the shiny plastic of his pants. The mood in the room shifted, for a moment Dave thought he had blown it, but looking down he saw Mr.McDonald staring at him with a broad smile, and in that moment he knew he wanted to give the old gentleman the show that he’d always wanted for himself from Samantha, but never received.

Dave’s Jeans we’re a skinny cut, so not about to fall down without assistance. He walked all the way up and down the catwalk once before daring to undo the next button down on his trousers, revealing yet more clear plastic, but not showing anything else. The jeans were starting to lose against gravity and the waistband of the vinyl underwear could be seen above his rear end, with a couple of centimetres of bare skin showing under the clear material. Another turn of the catwalk and Dave went for the next button down, he held his trousers up and made sure that flesh could be seen, but no view of his private parts. The crowd were in a mixed state of rapped attention and cheering, but most of the noise was coming from the girls who were variously whooping and shouting “off, off”, whereas the men seemed more intent to watch the unfolding scene of PVC loveliness. Dave knew he was unable to remove his tight jeans without a struggle, which would ruin in the atmosphere, and he was not keen on revealing everything, so he walked back down the catwalk and Ducked through the curtains. The girl was gone. He hadn’t seen her amongst the audience, and felt quite crest-fallen at the thought that he wouldn’t see her again. He thought quickly, then took off the jacket and tee shirt, then slipped the jacket back on, revelling in the warm soft feeling against his bare skin before peeling off his jeans, being careful not to let anyone see him. He stood up, covered his private parts with one hand, and took a deep breath.

Alistair McDonald had always been a safe man, hiding the fact that he was gay throughout his long marriage and from everyone, including his two sons. Only his daughter knew of his secret, and she was sworn never to tell. Marie died of cancer only two weeks before the clandestine event that he had helped organise, and without his beloved wife, he was lost, but at the same time felt guilty that he no longer had to hide his desires. Marie knew of his liking for PVC rainwear, but nothing of his wish to be with another man. His head was filled with conflicting emotions, until he saw that innocent young boy earlier that evening, stumble into the dimly lit room, fresh faced, and full of hope. Sex was not on his mind, he knew that would be wrong, but just for now a little flirtation and maybe to heap some affection on this boy might ease his pain.

The audience were clapping and whistling, Dave was nervous. He wondered if he had gone too far, but it was too late now, he found himself standing between the curtains at the end of the runway, lapping up the attention from the crowd. He walked up and down, wiggled his but in the clear plastic shorts, stroked the jacket and generally hammed it up, but all the while making sure his modesty was covered. At the end of the stage he stopped and looked at Mr.McDonald. In that moment he saw a sadness behind those eyes, something he had not seen before, but he was smiling, and seemed to be enjoying the show. He had no idea why he did it, but with his free hand he blew the old gentleman a kiss. He turned and wiggled his shiny bottom then proceeded back down the runway. He arrived at the curtains, turned to see the faces for one more time, then threw both hands in the air briefly, before turning and hurrying out. The cheers and claps were louder than he had ever thought possible, his heart was pounding, and adrenaline coursed through him like he had never known before; he felt invincible.

“Shit”, Dave thought, as he looked at the time on his phone, “I’m going to miss the last bus at this rate”. He’d got dressed and was looking for Mr.McDonald to offer the jacket back. Of course he hoped he would let him keep it, but thought it polite to offer to return it. Eventually he found him, still dressed in the black PVC mac, and talking to a tall man with his back to Dave. At first he thought the man was wearing a gabardine raincoat, but then realised it had a glossy surface, and it was in fact a beige PVC trench coat with tight belt around the waist and shiny collar up.
“Er, excuse me”, Dave tried to get the older chap’s attention. As he stepped forward the other man turned and smiled. He was dashingly handsome, a bit like a younger Pearce Brosnan. Mr.McDonald had a hand on the man’s arm.
“My dear boy, what a splendid performance, we really all enjoyed it very much. Oh, this is my new friend Donald, we met earlier, Donald is a retired fireman”, he said with a degree of pride in his voice.
The man offered a hand, “please call me Don”, his mac creaked pleasingly as his arm stretched out.
“Dave, pleased to meet you Don, that is a very exceptional, and dare I say it, expensive raincoat you have there”.
Alistair stepped forward and grabbed the man firmly by the arm, “Donald has invited me out for drinks, it’s all very exciting!”,he was like a young child at a birthday party.
“Oh, this is yours sir”, the student offered the shiny plastic jacket.
“My dear boy you absolutely must call me Alistair, and you absolutely must keep the jacket, it suits you so much, it was always intended as a gift from me to you”.
“Thank you so much. I am sorry, I have to be going, I think I may have missed the last bus”.
“Then my boy, goodbye, and hope to we you again”.
As Dave walked off he glanced back and noticed the two men hugging and then a little kiss in PVC heaven.

Outside the air was cold. Dave had wrapped the jacket in brown paper so it wouldn’t be seen and was about to head off, when the large older lady from earlier came around the corner. She was carrying a huge bag, but more importantly, she was still wearing her black PVC trousers and red Mac. Dave looked nervous, “what on earth is she doing out in public dressed like that?”, he wondered, but she did look stunning, a police car raced by and Dave nearly jumped out of his skin, but the woman didn’t even flinch, “I am Amanda, I organised tonight’s event. It turns out, young man, that you were quite a hit with my customers”, her voice contained a note of disapproval, as if Dave had stolen some of her thunder.
“Appreciative enough to buy you some presents”, and she handed him the bag.
He peered inside and saw the top of several shiny items.
“Wow”, he said, “thank you!”
“Don’t thank me, thank your fans. Anyway, if you decide to come back to our next event you would be welcome”, despite the offer her voice was cold, and she turned and walked away without saying another word. Dave watched her big shiny form until she was out of site, somehow transfixed by her bottom swishing in the shiny trousers.
He was excited, if tired, and now, not at all sure how he was going to get home, as he walked across the gravel away from the building.

“Nice work big boy”, a voice came from the shadows behind him. His heart skipped, it was the model, the first girl ever who stood a chance from tumbling Samantha from the pedestal that Dave had put her on.
“I mean, they liked it, but a bit crude for my liking”, she added.
She stepped forward into the light from the overhead lamps. Her hair was up, and she was wearing normal clothes, including a very sensible puffer jacket, but it was definitely not PVC or nylon - stylish but dull.
Her ears were larger than he had expected with her hair up, and her slightly crooked nose was just as gorgeous as when he had first seen her. Others might have thought her plain, but to Dave she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
“It’s nice to see you, I thought you had slipped out”, Dave offered in a friendly tone.
“Washing up duty”, she said, “some of us have to work you know”.
“Er, would you like to go for a drink?”, he asked hopefully.
“It’s 11:45, I’m exhausted, no, but thanks for the offer”, she said.
“Oh well, maybe some other time?”, the student offered, even more hopefully, “I’ve got to try to find a way home now, as I’ve missed the last bus”.
“Well, I can give you a lift?”, she offered, “my name is Chloe by the way.”
“Oh sorry, yes, I’m Dave, hello”.
He sat with the big bag of shiny rainwear presents on his lap as he had been unable to open the rear door of the ancient Fiesta,”I have no idea what I am going to do with this lot”, she said.
“I suspect I know”, the girl replied.
Dave blushed.
“What I mean is that I don’t have any more space to hide things from my parents; I have a small stash under the floorboards, but nowhere near big enough for all of this”, he gestured to the bag, “I don’t suppose you would like these?”
They pulled up to a red light and the car shuddered and made a strange banging noise.
“Oh no”, she replied, “not my scene.”
Dave seemed crest fallen, “but what about back at the event, you seemed to be enjoying yourself”.
“What, no”, she said with a bit of a sneer in her voice, “that’s just a job to help pay the bills”. She glanced sideways and noticed her passengers’s face.
“Don’t worry, you can stash those at my place”, she offered.
“Sure, but, er”, Dave stammered.
“I’m sure you’ll be visiting me again”.
Dave smiled, inside and out, as it looked like all of his dreams might be about to come true that evening.

The End
cammacg
Posts: 144
Joined: August 31st, 2010, 6:31 pm

Re: PVC Outlawed

Post by cammacg »

Thanks jellyman, Excellent. Well written, with a good storyline. Looking forward to the next part.
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