Hunter from Hull - Revision #10 - February 26, 2008 4:48:25 PM UTC

Princes Quay, Hull :-

She let the smooth creaminess roll around her tongue and wash her palate... the thick, hot, bitter-sweetness, as it flooded her senses and trickled down her throat. She swallowed. The glow spread slowly downwards, until it enveloped her whole. She waited for the familiar heat to build, as blood vessels dilated, and openings began to exude moisture. Perhaps the effect had something to do with the sun shining through the huge east window, and the soft strains of 'Samba Pati' in the background.

But as Puna gave up her whole body, her parted lips couldn't help but let loose a soft moan of delight. Her scarlet parted lips that declared to all and sundry, that she was a woman of substance. Amply backed up by her unapologetically thick body, and luscious shoulder length salt and pepper hair, that spoke it's own volume. Large, proud, intelligent, and unashamedly carnal. She who called herself 'Puna Concolor'.

For a brief moment Puna dwelled on whether there might be others like her, who found it so dampeningly erotic. The wonderous magic of the coffee and cocoa beans and chilli pepper. Some might think her odd; indeed, she knew that we some who thought her digusting. But this was the life.. beginning a hunt with a cup of Leornardos' chilli-mocha. The hour drive from Skeffling was worth it, just for that. But there would be more this day... oh yes!
She threw back her hair and luxuriated in another sip of the frothing liquid.

Her fortnight out in the Med had been amazing. But she was glad to be back home. Her heart belonged here... this was where she felt safe. It was actually, these days, with all the over-policing to 'clean' it up. But nevertheless, it was and had always been, her city. She belonged to it, and it belonged to her. It was her home ground, where she was born and bred. It always felt like home, even though she didn't live here any more. This city of many faces and colours.

"Hull" !

The city that people who've never been, dread; for some unfathomable reason. Ok, it was true, it had been a bit grim... just a tad, mind... when she was growing up. There used to be a saying in the olden days, "God spare us from Halifax, Hull and Hell". But apparently, that was by the criminals and other no-gooders, so probably a good thing.

"Kingston-upon-Hull" !

University city, sea-gate to Europe, birth place of William Wilberforce and home of the "Deep". Like a quirky kiss, it leaves you thinking about her long after, searching for meaning, searching for more.

The given name for the city, sitting on the outlet of the river Hull into the Humber estuary. Like a room full of rugger players, the Humberside thrives on it's notoriety for being rough, ready and exciting. But unlike your first time with a Humbrian lover, when you brace yourself with half a bottle of Southern Comfort, and hope hope for the best, Hull slides into you slickly and you find yourself gratefully sucking in the unexpected sweetness, which only keeps you gasping for more. Well, at least that's what the students who keep returning, say... that is, the ones who haven't just because they flunked their exams.

The city centre buzzes with life at all hours. The fusion of the old and new towns resulting in a synergy and unlikely alliance. Like a pot of honey to bees and flies, its museums, jazz cafes, outdoor concerts, ancient pubs, restaurants and shops, draw them in. The beatniks, philosophers, politicos, dock workers, sailors, fishers, yachters. And the tourists and the other weird and wonderful people. With that chilled out atmosphere that tends to go with a leftist haven, some say it's the English Seattle. But long before the advent of the stars and stripes, or the unions and Labour party, like a wet dream, it's heritage in the English Civil War had left it's spot.

Well, whatever Hull was, or had been, it suited Puna perfectly at this peak of her life. Through that institution, that gateway of learning, she had been lured away in her misguided youth, to richer pickings. Only, it seemed like everyone else had had the same great idea. But now she answered Hulls' siren call. And the circle had completed. The gateway out of Hull was now the gateway in, for fresh meat. If not rich, at least her pickings were easy.

For Puna Concolor, Hull was the Happy Hunting Ground !