I get picked up and fucked in a rain shelter.
I was on a stag do/bachelor party for a younger guy from my work. Being in my mid-forties and one of the older men there I had tried to get out of going, but couldn’t. So, there I was on a warm summer night in a nightclub in, of all places, Blackpool, which I had felt was well past its sell by date; no one had explained why that rather tacky town had been selected.
Throughout the previous night’s, raucous dinner in a cheap Greek restaurant, complete with dancing on the tables, plate breaking and Karaoke, I had come to the conclusion that the do wasn’t really my cup of tea. That conclusion was hardened back at the hotel where the twenty or so, mainly guys in their mid-twenties stayed up drinking, singing and dancing together until four in the morning. Things improved a little the next day, most of which was spent at a rather nice go cart track.
Getting back to the hotel around five, I excused myself claiming old age and a need for a sleep and sloped off to my room which I had to myself whereas most were sharing. Experience had taught me to always claim to be a loud snorer, it worked every time!
As it happened, I was able to grab an hour or so’s snooze but that wasn’t until after I returned from the gay sauna that I had seen nearby as I drove back from the go carting. Over the past few years as my marriage had become less active sex-wise so I had experimented and had found another aspect of my sexuality that to myself I called, my bi side.
Compared to the spas I went to in London this was quite small but had all the usual features; sauna, jacuzzis, dark room, bar, and cinema where you could lounge and wank either yourself or a partner. I didn’t score at the sauna but did have an enjoyable wank in the cinema with three or four others watching me.
That evening there was yet another noisy and very mediocre dinner, which we ate from 9.30 until past midnight, before going to a club. Unbeknown to most of the us, the grooms had coordinated with a hen do and another bachelor party to meet up in a bar next to the club, which, amazingly, was open until six in the morning.
So, I found myself in this bizarre situation where us twenty or thirty guys and about the same number of women met in a bar to get to know each other. It was manic and crazy, as everyone, well almost everyone, immediately started drinking shots with a clear intent of getting drunk out of their minds as quickly as they could.
From my point of view, the only good thing about it was that I could fade into the background and not be missed. I was tempted to slip away and go back to the hotel and go to bed, but fortune, good or bad, stopped that.
So instead, I got most comprehensively picked up.
“Hi there,” a male voice said from slightly behind me. Turning, I saw a guy who I didn’t know but who looked slightly familiar.
Seeing my puzzled expression, he leaned in closer and whispered almost into my ear.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Realising that I still didn’t get how we vaguely knew each other he went on. “Earlier this evening, the spa?”
Then it clicked I had seen him at the gay spa. In fact, sitting in the sauna he had stroked my arm and had it not been for another guy having his hand inside my towel and holding my dick, something might have happened between us.
We clicked at last and laughed and joked ignoring the mad chaos that was going on around us.
Greg was tasty. There was no doubt about that. Probably late thirties, he was tall, lean, well built, and dark skinned. Not black or obviously sub-continent, but probably mixed race. He had an easy way about him, a nice smile and a quick wit and, I suddenly recalled from seeing him without his towel at the spa, a beautifully shaped rather thick cock.
We both quickly agreed that this sort of thing was not for us. We discussed the ridiculousness of the stag and hen dos and agreed that they were both a huge waste of money and basically a waste of time.
“That is, of course, James,” Greg said, putting his hand on top of mine, staring into my eyes and adding “Unless you meet someone for the night.”
“Yes, that’s true,” I replied.
We chatted for a while, had a few drinks and got forced into dancing a couple of times with women from the hen do.
As usual it was difficult to hear in the club. Greg suggested we go outside to chat several times, but feeling that would be rude to the groom, I turned down the invitations. After Joe, the main groom, shouted what sounded like a whisper into my ear, I changed my mind.
“Ok then,” I shouted to Greg, unthinkingly placing my fingers on his wrist, which I noted was sporting a Rolex watch. “Let’s go.”
Outside I explained what Joe had said.
“You might have preferred to stay,” I said as we walked along the sea front.
“I doubt it, why would I?” he said as we walked down some steps to a narrow walkway alongside the beach. It was still very warm and although I was wearing beige, linen Bostancı Escort trousers and a thin dark blue shirt I wasn’t cold and the full moon together with the lights from the promenade above meant we could easily see our way.
“Well, he was organising a mooning contest with the hen dos with the guys on the stag dos being the judges.”
Greg laughed and very pointedly looking back over my shoulder and down to my bum said. “Well, I have my own one here, don’t I?”
We chatted for a while about the spa telling each other how we went to other places nearer to our homes, mine in London and his Manchester. I was half expecting him to ask what I had done in them and even, maybe to enquire as to how far I had gone with other guys but he didn’t.
I felt a little embarrassed, but also quite enjoyed it when Greg fell a pace or two behind me and went on. “On behalf of the stag do I declare from visual evidence earlier this evening at the renowned gay spa that the delectable James’ curvy derriere is the outright winner.”
“Why thank you, kind sir,” I said without thinking, leaning against him as I laughed, for we were both tipsy. He put his arm round my shoulders.
“You are most welcome and, from what I could see, most worthy too,” he said running his hand from my shoulders, down my back, over my waist and almost onto my bum, before I wriggled away.
“Now now,” I laughed. “That wasn’t one of the prizes” I giggled, as he pulled me around to face him.
“Pity,” Greg said, his hands on my hips.
The laughing stopped, we were both serious as we stared at each other for a moment or two.
“So, was this one of the prizes?” he said softly, his arms running up my back and pulling me to him.
I was surprised. Surprised at both his confidence, but more so at my lack of resistance. He went on.
“This must be third prize and,” as he took my chin in his hands and pulling it upwards added, just before he kissed me, “This must be second.”
It wasn’t a long kiss, it didn’t need to be for the significance of it hit home to both of us immediately.
He held me in his arms as we broke the kiss, and he said quietly, “You can guess the first prize, can’t you?”
I didn’t say anything but realised I wase enjoying being held by this tall, strong man. I felt his hands sliding down my back, and this time they didn’t stop at my waist. They went past that, onto the back of my hips, up the flare of my bum and then onto each cheek. He rested them there, sort of enquiringly. It felt nice, just right for the moment, so I didn’t move or push them off.
“Yes James,” he mumbled before again kissing me. This time, as our mouths ground together so his hands fondled the cheeks of my bum outside my tight, linen trousers.
I couldn’t have stopped him, even if I had wanted to, so aroused had he made me. His hands on my bum, running up my back then down again, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, mine in his and the firm, long bulge pressing against my tummy ensured that.
My cock had been stirring and growing and receding since we left the bar had now it exploded into its fullest glory and stunning hardness. With his erection pressing into my stomach and finding my hardness they sort of duelled together as they became almost like one.
It was happening again. I knew it. I could feel all the familiar stirrings, the needs and wants. The desire for gay or at least bi action. But this time it was with a total stranger. Apart from some fondling, oral and hand relief in the gay saunas, none of the others had been. And none of the others had been in the open air with nowhere private for us to go.
This was also so different in other ways. With all the other guys everything had been mutual, a partnership with neither dominating or really leading the way. What had happened had been between the pair of us, arranged and enacted by both of us, but this wasn’t. Although I was by no means a reluctant partner, I was having little involvement in deciding what was going to happen and when. That was clearly Greg’s role and was something that equally clearly, he was used to and took to naturally.
He pushed me back, deeper into the shadow of the overhang from the promenade above. It was very quiet and deserted. Sure, there were sounds of laughter and talking as people walked along the promenade, after all it was only around midnight and Blackpool is a late-night town, but on the lower path alongside the stony beach it was deserted.
We continued kissing as slowly he moved us further and further under the promenade, his hands still fondling my bum. Greg finished the sentence he had left hanging. “The first prize is James’s bum isn’t?”
I felt something against the back of my knees. I broke the kiss and looked over my shoulder and saw it was a bench that ran the length of what, I now realised, was a shelter, probably from the rain.
“Isn’t it?” he persisted.
“Wow, what a prize,” I laughed adding “At least there’s enough Escort Bostancı of it to make a big prize.”
We sat down on the bench, still kissing.
A part of me knew this was crazy. I was aware that I was going where I had never been before: being fucked by a stranger. I was finding a new low. I knew nothing about him, had met him less than two hours ago, and yet was now in a deep clinch with him. However, the buzz was there and it was starting to control me.
With his mouth clamped firmly to mine and his arms encircling me, Greg leaned sideways so that his left side pressed against the back of the bench and my right shoulder snuggled against his chest and arm. Our knees were pressing together, which stopped the lower parts of our bodies from getting close. I felt his leg moving against mine, his knee pressing against both of them, enquiringly as if waiting for an invitation.
We both probably both knew this was a seminal moment, I certainly did. One of those times between potential new lovers when something happens that defines the future of the relationship, fling, affair, lovemaking, one-night-stand or whatever.
But, of course, in our highly aroused and slightly drunk states we didn’t think of it in those terms.
Greg was probably thinking ‘If I can get my leg between his I can get on top of him, and maybe fuck him here and now.’
I was thinking ‘If I open my legs, I am opening myself to him;’ it hadn’t entered my head that we might have sex there.
Greg pushed his tongue deeper into my mouth. I met it with my tongue and we fought a little duel. I loved kissing and I was good at it. We squirmed our widely parted lips together, we sucked each other’s top and bottom lips in turn and licked all round each other’s mouth. We were, though, still sitting upright and I was vaguely aware that if we were to have sex it would either be standing up or him on top of me on the bench. And, how fucking sordid were both of those thoughts? Beautifully, fucking sordid was the answer and to my surprise and slight horror, I added, and I love it.
Although I was quite shocked at myself by going this far, this soon, the buzz was more and more intense and was taking me over. My body wanted more, my entire being needed more, I wanted more from this appealing man. My chest was aching, my blood-engorged nipples were pounding with sensation and my cock felt as though it was ready to explode.
My legs slowly parted. Greg’s right leg slid between them and he eased me backwards until my body was laid out with my back against the wall and my legs stretched out on the bench. He rolled as far alongside me as the restrictions of the bench allowed. He was almost on his side, I was on my back, his chest was against mine squashing my right manboob.
“Ok?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I grunted, half of me wishing I had the strength to say ‘no’ and get up and leave.
Lying almost supine on the bench, in the dark shadows at the back of the shelter we would be unlikely to be visible to anyone that passed by. In any case we would probably hear anyone approaching. I was surprisingly relaxed and had wrapped my arms around his neck, leaving the length of my body open and exposed to his advances; I was a little like a puppy lying on its back, leaving its throat and chest exposed to another dog.
I expected to feel his hand on my chest, perhaps fingering the hairs or pinching my nipples, actually it was more than expected, for I hoped and wanted it there really. It was a surprise then, when I felt it on my lower chest just above my waist. It was a bigger surprise, somewhat of a shock really, when I felt it start to move. It went downwards instead of up. It moved and, as he kissed me harder, it slid onto the softness of my stomach.
‘God no,’ I thought as he pressed and softly rubbed right alongside my cock that was now rearing, ramrod straight up my flat stomach. ‘I must stop him,’ I thought as slowly it slid down my stomach to my balls. ‘This can’t be happening’ I thought, his hand encircled my erection outside my trousers. But it most certainly was happening and, I began to realise, he wanted to go further, much further right there in that shelter. I was thinking, though what is further, what does much further mean?
Greg knew that he had me. It was his business to know that sort of thing. It was how real players worked and he was one of those right at the top of his game, I was a helpless pawn against such opposition. He knew he had me from the kiss, from the tension in my body through his hands and in the way I reacted in his arms. In his terms, he had made the break-through, now he pressed for total victory.
He knew that the combination of touch and words had more than twice the power of either alone. The two together created synergy, players learned that at an early age and he was a player supreme. He pressed the tip of his tongue against my ear. Leaving it there for a moment or two as he softly licked just inside my ear, he whispered.
“You Bostancı Escort Bayan are amazing James, you have the most gloriously desirable body.”
As he whispered those words and rubbed me through the linen, I realised that right at that moment, there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to have his hand there. Involuntarily, yet somehow on purpose, invitingly, sordidly or however either party looked at it, I opened my legs.
“Oh God,” I grunted as his hand found its goal. My body jerked as it finished this stage of its journey. My head went back as I clung onto him around his neck, while he pressed me there. I felt myself starting to cum as Greg pressed right against my cock inside the thin trousers.
He knew then that it was game, set, and match and somehow I suppressed cummimg.
Although Greg may well have been the best and most exciting lover I’d ever had, it was, by far, the riskiest, most dangerous and craziest thing I had ever done.
His unusual approach totally defeated me. It ruined any resistance I may have had and made me putty in his hands. I had never been quite so comprehensively seduced, but then I hadn’t been seduced that many times really, for usually I was a completely willing, mutual partner.
By starting in a way so different from most men I had experienced, and by finding my weak spots so quickly and adeptly, he had sent such rushes of excitement through me that, inevitably, I wanted and badly needed more. So, when he took his hand away from between my legs and stroked my hair with it, I wanted it back down there. I almost asked him to replace it, but managed to resist that indignity.
We kissed more and, as he repositioned himself, I became increasingly aware of his erection pressing against the outside of my leg. He wiggled his body so that now, it pressed more against the top of my leg, right up by my groin. Then came the next part of his unorthodox approach.
I felt him take hold of my hand, pull it downwards, manoeuvre it a little and then press it against him. I jumped with the realisation that my hand was pressed against his bare cock.
As he whispered, “Ok James?” my fingers involuntarily wrapped around its impressive thickness. It felt amazing.
It still hadn’t occurred to me that he would actually try to have full sex in that shelter; there was still a touch of sexual naivety left in me, obviously as I was thinking we would probably just wank each other; silly me!
“Oh Christ, yes,” I grunted as his fingers wriggled their way into my trousers and found my sweetest of sweet spots, my rampantly hard cock whilst, at the same time, he gently bit my nipple. I felt almost delirious with pleasure and excitement.
“Ok?” he whispered rubbing my cock and pulling it out of my flies.
“Oh yes,” I moaned adding “Yes, yes, yes.”
My eyes were closed, my mouth was wide open, gasping for breath, my head was thrown back and my body was thrust forward towards his pleasure giving fingers and mouth. I really was in the position of a true slut and a total submissive, something I had never thought I would be.
He caressed me more firmly as he slowly thrust his cock into the surrogate cunt or ass I was forming with my hand. He moved his other hand and fumbled to make the thin belt around my waist undone. Without waiting, he slid my zipper all the way down. Quickly, so I would have no chance to push him off, he slid his hand inside my trousers. Down my stomach, into my boxers, across my pubes, and between my legs to find the gratifying hardness of my cock and soft maluableness of my balls.
If the sensations had been strong when Greg pressed my genitals through my trousers and boxers, when he pressed them ‘au naturel’, the feelings almost sent me through the roof and I wondered if I might cum.
I hugged him around his neck even tighter, loving and hating him at the same time.
“Oh my God. Oh shit Greg, oh Jesus,” I moaned as he pumped my dick slowly and so beautifully.
“Good?” he gasped sucking my nipple, fairly hard and rolling my balls in his hand.
“Yes. No, no. Yes, but stop, we can’t,” I stammered half-heartedly trying to wriggle away.
Greg seemed to know this was a big moment. A seminal, go for broke moment, a shit or bust moment.
He slithered his fingers around my cock and pumped his in my hand just as he would if he were fucking. The significance of this was not lost on me.
“No, stop, please stop,” I whined.
“No James, I can’t stop, you don’t really want me to, do you?” he went on playing me so adeptly and easily
“Yes, yes I do,” I replied my bodily actions belying my words, as my hips thrust back at his fingers even as my words said otherwise.
You don’t, not really, you want exactly what I want, don’t you?” Greg went on thrusting his cock harder in my hand.
“No Greg, no, we can’t.”
“We can, and we’re going to,” he grunted pressing his finger right against my asshole.
“Please Greg, no,” I pleaded knowing as well as he did that I didn’t really mean it.
He was tugging at the waist band of my thin trousers as he whispered huskily into my ear.
“I want you James. So. Fucking. Badly.”
I grabbed the waist band as well, trying to hold my trousers in place.