I felt merry as the bouncer opened the strong steel door.

'Blimey!'

A dense mist had enveloped the narrow passage. In the five years I'd frequented the club, I'd never experienced such a phenomenon. The days of London peasoupers belonged in the realms of period novels and movies. But in spite of the eeriness of the scene, I felt strangely serene; the mist seemed to wrap around me in a comforting embrace.

The night had been enjoyable. The Echo Club had never let me down. It didn't offer hedonistic pleasure but a relaxed, benevolent ambience in which to socialise with like-minded men. The location was part of its appeal, tucked away discreetly at the end of a long, narrow passage in an old, nondescript part of the city. An enclave of ancient buildings, passages, alleys and courts that had somehow survived the Blitz. Bombs had rained down on the area flattening entire streets, but the cluster of ancient buildings had curiously been untouched.

I left at my usual time of half past one. Despite the late hour, I'd never felt apprehensive walking the dimly lit streets.

A yellow glow from a distant lamp post told me I was heading in the right direction. I hesitated momentarily. I'd walked the route too many times at night to count, but the mist, which veiled the entire street, gave rise to a mystifying presence. I headed forward cautiously, the mist deadening the customary sounds of the night.

After walking for five minutes, an odd feeling hit me. I felt lost. The area no longer seemed familiar. I decided to retrace my steps back to the narrow passage. Five minutes later, I arrived at a place I didn't recognise. An unusual amber glow drew my attention. As I walked towards it, a gaseous odour permeated the air, which became more pungent the closer I came.

'A gas lamp!' I muttered as I ran my hand over the cast iron post.

Puzzled, I scratched the back of my neck and frowned. Why hadn't I noticed this relic previously?

I must have taken a wrong turn, I mused. I took out my mobile phone, it would pinpoint my exact location.

'What the ---!'

The battery was dead, which hadn't been the case when I'd checked ten minutes earlier. I took a moment to try and make sense of the situation. There was no mystery, I quickly concluded. The mist had simply disoriented my sense of direction, and I'd ended up taking a wrong turn into the maze of passages and alleys and found myself in an unfamiliar spot. As for the mobile, the battery must be on the blink. Yes, that's what happened, I surmised.

Despite the mishap, the mist still offered a benevolent setting. It began to gently swirl and close in around me. I felt safe in its presence, and, as I walked forward, I had the strange sensation I was being guided.

A sudden impact broke my enchantment. I stumbled backwards.

'My dear fellow. Please, accept my profuse apologies for alarming you. This damnable mist is a curse. I should have taken more care, mind, but I wasn't expecting anyone to be around at this ungodly hour.'

The voice was cultured, educated and sincere.

'Well, you did give me a fright, but I'm equally to blame. I was in a world of my own.'

A statuesque figure stood in front of me. I measured just under six feet, but the gentleman was a good four inches taller. His features were indistinct, as I assumed mine were also. But I'd always trusted my instincts, and I took his air of geniality faithfully.

'To tell you the truth, I'm lost,' I said mildly.

'My dear fellow, we're in the same boat then. I spent many years frequenting this area, but unfortunately, I'm now only able to visit one night a year. I'm trying to find the gentlemen's club I patronised, but maddeningly, I've lost my bearings in the mist.

' I'm afraid the same has happened to me. I'm a regular visitor to a club in the area, which I left not long ago., but I soon found myself lost.'

'What's the name of the establishment you frequent?'

'The Echo Club,' I said eagerly.

'The club I frequent is called The Surveyors Room. It has a somewhat singular membership.'

'The name doesn't ring a bell, but there are lots of places it could be hidden away. I'd certainly be intrigued to discover its charms,' I said blithely.

'My dear fellow, you must attend as my guest. It's the least I can do considering my carelessness.'

'Well, I'm happy to accept your kind invitation.'

'Splendid! Now, let's see if I can find my bearings.'

He peered into the mist in every direction before concentrating his gaze west. 'I have a strong sense that we should head this way.'

'It's as good a direction as any,' I said contentedly.

'Right-ho! Follow me, my dear fellow.'

He strode away purposefully. Momentarily, I struggled to keep pace. After walking for a good two minutes, he abruptly turned north. The mist thickened, which forced me, once more, to up my pace. I feared that if I fell back, he would melt into thin air.

He suddenly stopped. 'Yes, I'm sure we're on the right track. Not far now, my dear fellow. If I'm not mistaken, my club is just a stone's throw away,' he stated buoyantly. He crossed over and continued north for a short distance. I kept on his heels.

He stopped again, turned to face me, and beckoned me forward.

'The entrance to my club is at the end of this short passage.' His voice exuded ebullience. 'Follow me, my dear fellow.'

In a moment, he was gone. I hurried into the passage, but there was neither sight nor sound of the man, only a deathly silence.

I stood still and thrust my arm out, which disappeared into the mist.

'Are you there?' I enquired calmly.

Nothing stirred. Despite the peculiarity of the situation, I felt serene. I stepped forward cautiously. After half a dozen steps, the mist, once more, began to swirl and close in around me, but now it flickered with a warm, almost ethereal luminescence.

A warm breath brushed my neck before a gloved hand touched my shoulder, the fingers caressing gently.

'Forgive me for my subterfuge, my dear fellow. I have brought you here under false pretences. My club is no more; It closed many moons ago. Every year since, I visit on the anniversary of its closure, in the hope of meeting a kindred spirit. I sensed the moment we met that you were that person.'

I smiled. His tone conveyed sincerity. Only he knew why he'd chosen to lead me up the garden path, but the connection between us was undeniable. I stepped forward.

'Your approach is certainly unconventional, but it's the destination that matters, not the journey. Your instinct is correct, we're kindred spirits.'

'Then we must arrive together at our destination. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me.'

I stifled amusement. The man's flowery speech was certainly novel but also quite touching in a strange way.

'Lead on, sir,' I said happily.

The dense mist enveloped us, only the sound of the man's precise steps cut through the air. We walked together for over a minute until his step slowed, then, once more, the mist radiated a warm luminescence.

'We have arrived, my dear fellow.'

I stepped forward and felt the airiness of an open space.

'Come, my dear fellow.'

A gloved hand touched my shoulder and guided me to my right. I felt brickwork at my back. The man's frame hinted through the mist; his gloved hands showed and rested on my shoulders before gently pressing me back. I felt safe in his control.

His firm body pressed against me, his prominent erection tantalising me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and felt his hips sway.

'It's been so long since I met an acquaintance who shares one's own penchant,' he whispered seductively.

'There are plenty of us around,' I said breathlessly.

'But sadly too often hidden in the shadows.'

His hips swayed animatedly, his passion burgeoning. I felt his warm breath against my ear.

'We found each other, that's what matters, my dear fellow.' He kissed me lightly on the cheek. 'I wish to perform fellatio on you.'

'I'd like that.'

As he dropped down, my cock twitched expectantly, It had never failed to impress. Men couldn't resist devouring the seven-inch shaft and bulbous glans. But it had been a good few months since I'd felt the exquisite caress of moist lips and tongue.

The mist thickened. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath as my stiff cock was released. He placed his hands on my hips, and I felt his warm breath brush my skin. I jolted as his moist lips ran slowly along the underneath of my shaft before flicking the frenulum.

I was lost in the moment. Time seemed to stand still as he deftly teased my cock. He eagerly sucked up oozing precum and gulped gratifyingly. My head lolled from side to side as he pleasured me, and the air filled with my soft moans.

Absorbed by the intense stimulation, I was oblivious to my surrounding. The mist, now impenetrable to sight, enveloped me in a firm embrace.

I moaned fervidly as my glans entered his mouth. His soft lips and moist tongue devoured the bulbous head. Waves of euphoria swept over me. He went down on me. Deeper and deeper before my glans hit the back of his throat. My body tensed before quivering. As he continued to go down on me, the point of no return neared. My muscles tautened in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. An intense contraction was followed by an eruption. Semen pumped into his mouth, but he continued to go down on me voraciously. My body jerked as more semen pumped, and I cried out. Only when my orgasm was spent did his stimulation slow.

I leant back wearily against the brickwork. Waves of pleasure rippled over me. I finally opened my eyes. The mist masked the man's presence.

'Are you there?'

I felt his warm breath. 'I'm here, my dear fellow, but I must now bid farewell to this place.'

'I must see you again, so I can show you my appreciation.'

'That would be splendid. You can call on me tomorrow between midnight and one o'clock. This is my address.'

He placed a card in my hand.

'I can't wait to be with you again.'

'I await our reunion with desire, my dear fellow.'

I felt his lips lightly touch my cheek, which was followed by precise footsteps that quickly faded into the mist.

I arrived at the address well in advance of midnight and observed the house from behind a telegraph pole on the opposite side of the road. It stood on its own, bordered on one side by woodland and on the other by an expanse of parkland. Unlike the red brick houses it faced, it was built of stone and looked antiquated. No light showed from inside.

I eyed the time on my phone as it showed 11. 59. At precisely midnight, I crossed over. I stood in front of an iron gate and confirmed that the name etched into a wooden sign, which hung from the gate, was Yew Lodge. My heart drummed.

The gate creaked as it opened. I made my way along a short path to the front door. An old oil lantern hung from the adjacent brickwork. I drew a deep breath before pulling an old-fashioned brass doorbell. Nothing immediately stirred. A faint shuffling sound then emerged from inside. A bolt scraped followed by the clinking of a key. I tensed as the lock rattled. The door creaked open.

'Hello, dear.'

The frail voice matched the form of the elderly lady.

Momentarily, I was stumped. I quickly composed myself.

'I"m sorry for disturbing you at this late hour, but I was informed that Arthur Webber lived at this address. It seems I may have been misinformed.'

'There's no mistake, dear. Mr Webber informed us you would be calling.' The elderly lady's features exuded benevolence. She shuffled slowly around. 'William, Mr Webber's gentleman caller is at the door.'

A tall, stooping figure emerged. The old man stopped to retrieve an overcoat from a stand.

'My husband will escort you to Mr Webber's residence.'

The couple shared a tender look before the husband crossed the threshold.

'If you would follow me, sir. Mr Webber's residence is not far,' the man said as he unhooked the oil lantern.

He led me slowly along a narrow path that cut through dark, dense woodland.

Questions swirled in my mind, but the lure of what awaited me offset the eccentricity of the occasion.

'What is this place?'

'It's a nature reserve, sir, and has been for more than fifty years. The wood is ancient, mind. But there's a small area which has remained untouched for nearly two hundred years,' he stated amiably.

'And that would be where Mr Webber resides?'

'That's correct, sir.'

I smiled, my anticipation growing.

Suddenly, the beam from the lantern highlighted an arched wooden structure, which the man led me towards.

'What's this?' I asked as we passed through.

'A lych gate, sir.'

'A lych gate, but that's an entrance to a---'

'We're here, sir.'

He led me across open ground towards a modest-sized edifice. He suddenly stopped and turned to face me. In the eerie glow of the lantern, his features looked deathly. 'Mr Webber will be along shortly, sir. I will return at the appropriate time to escort you back.'

As he walked away, I emitted garbled questions, but the old man didn't alter his course. The glow from the lantern soon faded into the darkness of the wood.

I activated the torch on my mobile and swept the light over the immediate area. The thin beam picked out half a dozen stone squares lying randomly on the ground. A chill crept over me. A lych gate is the entrance to a church graveyard.

I stepped forward, the beam of light drawing me to a stone square some six feet away. I dropped into my haunches, illuminated the surface and read the inscription.

"In Loving Memory of Arthur George Webber, who departed this world on the 27th of October, 1907, aged 47. His presence shall liveth forever."

I flinched and stumbled backwards. I tried to raise myself, but my legs were numb. I dragged myself away. An icy chill clung to me, and I shivered uncontrollably. My heart pounded, and I clutched my chest as I began to hyperventilate. As I fought for breath, I swept the beam of light across the graveyard and caught sight of the mist. It encroached from every direction. My breathing instantly slowed and the fear melted away. The moment it touched me, I felt revived. It began to flicker with a warm luminescence, and I allowed it to envelop me. I smiled desirously; I knew he was present.

As the mist caressed me, his soft lips touched my cheek, then his breath brushed my ear.

'I'm so happy to meet your acquaintance once more, my dear fellow.'

'The feeling is mutual, Mr Webber.'

His lips touched my cheek once more, and he pressed his firm body against me.

'Please, call me Arthur, my dear fellow.'