CHAPTER 1

It was raining hard as Stuart made his way down the cobbled street with a stubborn expression on his face. He drew the hood of his raincoat tighter against the downpour. Walking home was one of the small pleasures of the day for Stuart; cheaper than the bus it gave him time to unwind after the office but most of all on particularly wet days it also gave him the excuse to wear the very unfashionable waterproofs he kept hanging up behind his desk.

But there was no pleasure that day. He was due to leave the country in a few weeks and the stress of trying to sell his flat, his car and send all of his belongings to storage was taking a toll on him. Stuart worked as a business advisor for a large company that was expanding operations to the Middle East. For years Stuart had diligently worked towards a promotion so when he heard he was being ‘moved up the ladder’ he was at once delighted. That soon changed as he was told the post would be in Beirut.

There no way he could refuse. He had no ties to this city. No family, a few friends at work but no-one close. The pay (almost twice what he earned here) and the option of setting up his own consultancy by the time he was 30 was too tempting. Yet he did not look forward to it.

Slipping through the door of his flat Stuart sighed as he was greeted by stack upon stack of plastic storage boxes. He pulled of his heavy nylon smock, trousers and wellington boots and set them over a chair to dry. “No more walking home in the rain.” He thought as he climbed his way through the clutter to his bedroom. He sat on his bed and undressed and opened his wardrobe. Inside was his prized collection of rainwear. Every colour and every material you could imagine. From thick, heavy PVC coveralls to thin nylon pack-aways and GoreTEX drysuits. He began to pack them into the empty boxes unhappily taping each shut after he could fit no more inside.

Stuart stopped as he neared the end of the rail. On it hung his favourite piece of rainwear; a thick florescent yellow two piece 66* North suit on which he had custom made in Iceland with attached neoprene cuffs, collar and ankles so he could wear it ‘mudding’ although he had never been out in it yet for fear he would be caught in the act due to his Hi-Vis suit. “Not much good in a desert.” Stuart thought as he slid his feet though the bib trousers savouring the sharp cold of the material on his bare thighs. He pulled the elasticated cuffs over his feet and stood up throwing the matching smock over his head, breathing in deeply the smell of the sweet rubber as he thrust his head through the tight neoprene collar. He hoisted up the bib trousers over his stiffening dick and tucking in the jacket he fastened the elastic over his shoulders and pulled tight so that he was completely enclosed in the bright, cool, smooth material.

Reaching for his crotch he wished he had requested a zipper too. He groped through the layers and grasped at the twitching bulge until he could no longer resist.