The Middle of Nowhere Guy

This encounter was a bit of a disaster, and it's not very sexy either, but it's a funny story, so I am going to tell it anyway.
It takes place in Newcastle, at the end of short cycling holiday. I'm there with a friend, we are staying in a smart hotel down by the docks, and we decide to celebrate the last evening of our trip with a night out on the local scene. We check out a couple of bars, and then end up at the main club. It's not great, with ropey music and an even ropier crowd, but we get drunk and have a giggle nonetheless.
Eventually my friend announces that she is going to head back to the hotel, and as usual I decide to hang around a bit longer and see if I can get any action. I buy a drink at the bar and have a wander around, but pretty soon it becomes clear that there is nobody interesting and nobody interested in me. The lights come up not much later, and the club starts to empty out.
I grab my coat from the cloakroom and wander out into the big open square outside. There's lots of guys milling around, staring at the ground, staring at each other, the desperate guys hoping to pick up the dregs of the night (and I include myself in that description). I walk slowly up to the street and loiter at the nearest bus stop for a while, trying unsuccessfully to work out how on earth I am going to get back to the hotel, and also casting my eye around for any available men.
There's a guy sitting alone on the bench of the bus shelter. He's good looking, with long hair and fashionable clothes, but not particularly sexy. He's too prefect and preened to be properly sexy, with his shirt opened ostentatiously wide to revealed a tanned hairy chest below.
He says hello, so I say hello back, and we start to chat.
It doesn't take long for the conversation to get round to sex.
"You can't come back to mine, I'm sharing a double room with a friend," I say.
It turns out that he is staying at his gran's house.
"You can come back if you like, but it's quite far away," he says.
I'm horny by now, and so of course I agree to go back, despite the odd circumstances. We flag a taxi, and the journey begins.
We drive for a while, through the centre of Newcastle, then out to the suburbs.
"How far away is it?" I ask.
"I told you it was far away," he says, and laughs.
And so we carry on, out into the countryside, then I see signs for Durham. And the taxi carries on.
I'm starting to feel uncomfortable now, but he slides his hand down the front of my jeans and starts playing with my cock, which takes my mind off the growing distance between me and the hotel.
And still we keep going. It must be at least twenty five minutes since we set off, and we are now in the depths of nowhere. The sun is coming up, and all around are green fields and trees. My cock is hard, and he keeps working on it with his hand.
At last we reach a small village, and he directs the taxi driver to drop us off in a cul-de-sac of drab council bungalows. He pays, and then the taxi drives off into the distance.
'Come on then,' he say, and leads me by the hand down the garden path of one of the bungalows. "We'll have to be quiet though, I don't want to wake her up.'
We get to the back door, and he bends down and lifts up the door mat.
"Oh," he says, sounding surprised, and I realise then that I am in trouble."She normally leaves a key here, but she must have forgotten tonight."
"What does that mean," I say, not even bothering to disguise my impatience.
"It means I'll have to ring the bell, which means you can't come in," he says.
I'm getting pretty worked up now.
"So what the fuck am I supposed to do?"
He looks embarrassed and apologises. "She normally leaves a key," he says again.
I start to get quite aggressive, and then I realise that I am stuck out here with no means of getting home and no mobile phone, so I start to act all nice and calm.
"Can you call me a taxi?" I ask politely.
He looks at his phone, which it turns out is starting to run out of battery. Now I really start to panic.
We wander away from the house and up the street, back towards the centre of the village. There's a wide open village green surrounded by houses, with an old fashioned red phone box in one corner, so we walk over to that. The sun is up now, but it's chilly and the sky is full of grey clouds.
After much fiddling around from him, and much panicking from me, he manages to get hold of a taxi number, and then he calls from the phone box and organises for a taxi to come and collect me and take me back to the city.
I slump onto a bench, ignoring the damp dew, and he walks over sheepishly and sits down next to me.
"I'm really sorry for all this," he says again.
I stare at him in silence, then grab his face and pull him towards me. We start to kiss.
After a few seconds he moves his hand over my crotch, and then he pulls down my zip and his hand wiggles its way inside. He pulls down the top of my pants and takes grip of my growing cock.
He pulls his mouth away from my mouth, then silently slips off the bench and down onto his knees. He pulls my cock right out of my trousers, plays for it for a while in the chilly air, pulling back the foreksin and looking at the shiny wet tip, then he bends over and takes it into his warm mouth.
He sucks, and I grab hold of his long ponytail and start easing his head back and forward. He sucks more eagerly now, so I put both hands on the back of his head and push him right down so that he takes my whole cock into his mouth. He gags quietly, but I don't let up. I'm angry at this guy, pissed off that he has got me into this situation, so I take it out on him now, forcing him onto my cock till he almost chokes. He seems to quite enjoy it.
I look up and take in the fact that I am being sucked off in what is now broad daylight in the middle of a village green. I can't help but smile, because I know that this is going to be a story that I will be telling for years to come. There's still nobody around, but I'm well aware that someone could appear at any minute and catch us at it.
Meanwhile he's dipping away frantically at my cock, sucking and pulling with his hand. Eventually I let loose and shoot a load into his mouth with a gasp. He looks up at me and smiles.
We have to wait a while for the taxi, but I make sure he waits with me - I'm not letting this guy out of my sight until I am well on the way back to civilisation. I don't quite relax until I hear the chug of a diesel engine and see a car appear round the corner and drive up towards us.
He apologises yet again, but I'm beyond caring now. I give him a curt goodbye, then collapse with relief into the back seat of the taxi.
It takes a good half hour to get back to Newcastle. Its almost seven in the morning by the time we reach the hotel, and I am up again at ten to get the train back to London. I have a crashing hang over, and pass out for most of the journey.