FabGuys.com forum: A long pause

By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

It was a sudden, dangerous impulse, inspired by something I had read. I didn't even stop to think about it before I spoke to the man on the pavement.

"Are you up for sex?" I asked.

There was a long pause. The man on the pavement looked me up and down, his face not giving away a single clue to his emotional response.

"How much?" asked the man.

I hadn't planned this. I had no figure in mind.

"How much would you want?" I said.

The man drew in a breath and exhaled through his nose.

"I'll suck you off for twenty," he said.

That sounded very reasonable, a bargain in my eyes. But that wasn't what I meant to ask for.

"How much to suck you off?" I asked. By now the nerves had got hold of me and I was shaking a little. My heart was beating at twice its normal rate. I expected a curt reply and a refusal. There was another long pause.

"Where?" he said. "Can't do it here."

"I don't know," I said. "What about my car?" Not ideal - it would have to be moved from where it was parked.

"Give me ten pounds and follow me," he said. I took ten pounds from my wallet and handed it over. He picked up his few belongings and walked off away from me towards the station. I guessed he was going to take me to a toilet cubicle.

My trousers were starting to darken with the precum dripping into them. I tried to adjust myself discreetly, out of sight of the passers-by.

He was slightly taller than me, a shaved head, an untidy light brown beard, wearing stained jeans and a heavy, dark blue woollen jumper. There was a smell of stale sweat and urine as he stood up and passed me. Yet my cock stiffened even more at that.

If it hadn't been for the intensity of his eyes and the amazing beauty of his face, none of this would have happened. It wasn't that he was a homeless man that got to me. It was the fact that such a man as he was homeless. It didn't make sense to my heart, my brain or my cock.

He continued walking across the bridge towards the railway station. I followed at a slight distance, every now and then catching a whiff of the scent of him.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Instead of turning into the station, he carried on past it and took a right-hand turn at the next junction. This road led under the railway tracks to a retail section behind. There was a pub, a supermarket and a budget hotel. He waited for me outside the hotel.

"Get a room and we can have more time," he said. This time I paused. It was a long pause. He was watching me think about it. His face still betrayed no emotion. He waited.

"Well?" he asked.

"OK," I said, finally decided.

"There's a fire exit round the back. Let me in there. I'll wait outside till you come."

I entered the hotel, all the time working out what to do about my car, what to do about the plans I had made for that evening, how much time I could allow myself. I reckoned I had a safe hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half.

"Just a standard room, please," I asked at reception. "No breakfast needed."

"A single or a double room, sir?"

I hesitated.

"Is there much difference in price?" I asked.

"Just twenty pounds, sir. Fifty for a single; seventy for a double. Breakfast is included with all our rates as well."

I opted for a double room and paid by credit card. I had about forty pounds left in my wallet. What if that wasn't enough for him? To hell with it, I thought.

He was waiting for me outside. I cautiously pushed open the fire exit door and he came inside. We were in a stairwell and the room was two flights up. Nobody was about. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday. The place was probably empty.

Room 312. I'll always remember the number. Whenever I see the same number on other hotel doors it all comes back to me.

It was too late to back out now. We got to the room and I opened it with my key. In those days there was much less electronic surveillance and interference in our lives. People could still sneak into places largely unnoticed.

The door closed and we faced each other.

Neither of us moved.

"You'll want me to wash, won't you?" he said.

I really didn't mind. Part of me wanted the stench of him to fill my nostrils. He was stood very close to me. There was an odour not unlike baking bread emanating from him. Then sourer tangs of something else, bitter, acrid.

"OK," I said. "I'll wait here," and I beckoned to the bed, whereupon I sat down.

He left open the bathroom door as he undressed and ran the shower. A pile of dirty clothes was added to by underclothes even dirtier. His body was thin, smooth, freckled with dirt. I could see his ribs sticking through his chest.

It occurred to me that he must have done this kind of thing before with other men. How else did he know about the back entrance? I started to worry about whether I had enough money on me to pay him. Then I decided that he would just have to have what I had got. Beggars can't be choosers, I said to myself, but didn't smile at the recognition of what I'd just said to myself. Instead, it felt sick, distasteful.

He spent about twenty minutes in the shower and emerged on to the bath mat, naked before me. I was sitting with a view straight into the open bathroom. The water was dripping down his skin, his hair darker with the wetness. He picked up a bath towel and wrapped it round himself.

"Give me a shoulder massage, will you?" he asked, as he walked towards me. I nodded, willingly. He turned round with his back to me. There were trickles of water running down from his hair. I stood up, stretched out my hands and began to work his shoulder muscles with my fingers. He flexed himself, rolled his shoulders and purred contentedly. I was still fully dressed, not sure what to do next. Was he going to lead me through this?

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

As I was rubbing his shoulders, he must have been rubbing his cock because after about five minutes he turned round to face me and said, "OK, I'm ready now."

He was still expressionless, not a shadow of a smile, a frown, anything. He had been avoiding my gaze but now he looked directly into my eyes.

"Fifty pounds," he said. "And another twenty if you want me to finish you off."

"What will you do with the money?" I blurted out.

"Food, drink, some clothes maybe. Ciggies. Weed, if I can get some tonight. Why?" I detected an edge to the question and his eyes narrowed.

I didn't know why. I had just blurted it out. I wanted to cry at that moment. I had spoilt the whole thing. His huge uncut cock was waiting there and I was asking questions.

"I've only got forty pounds left," I explained. "Sorry."

"Let me cum on your face then," he said. "That's worth a tenner to me."

As we stood there close together the stale scent of him came back, the ingrained dirt of weeks of sweat and piss stains not completely washed away.

"My name's Jack, by the way," he said and held out his hand.

"George," I said. "Nice to meet you, Jack."

I wasn't sure what to do or say next, what move to make. My own cock had softened a little, somewhat fearful amid the overwhelming sense of excitement.

"How long have you been on the streets, Jack?" I asked.

"Two years, I think," he said. "Was staying at my mum's but she can't have visitors staying over in her flat."

Another long pause.

"Go on, then," he said. "We're waiting." And he looked down at his erection sticking out towards me.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

I knelt down. His towel dropped to the floor. I lent in. He must have washed himself thoroughly down there because everything about it smelt fresh and young. The tip of his cock was pushing through his foreskin, pink and wet. I took it between my lips and licked it slowly with my tongue. It tasted salty. His hands were on my head, pushing me down on him. I opened my mouth and took as much of it as I could down my throat. He murmured appreciatively. It stiffened and grew inside my mouth, filling me. As it hit the back of my mouth I struggled and gagged but he kept his hands hard on my head. My own cock was stretched uncomfortably tight against my pants. He thrust himself forward and fucked my throat steadily. I could feel the thing throbbing with the anticipation of orgasm. Resisting his hands, I pulled back a little and it came out of my mouth. I took it in my hands and carefully peeled back the foreskin to reveal the fullness of his head. I summoned up as much saliva as I could and licked him all around the tip. He was moaning loudly. My erection was painfully squashed inside my pants. I rubbed it quickly to make myself more comfortable. The saliva dribbled down the shaft of his cock and I followed it with my tongue. I bent further down and found his balls. They were sweaty and tangy, the essence of him emanating from them. I played my tongue up and down him, from balls to tip and back again in quick succession. He pushed me back against the side of the bed. I sat down with my legs splayed out towards him. He took his cock in his hands and rubbed it fiercely, stimulating the tip with the loose foreskin. I watched, breathless, looking up at it. A thick spurt of cum shot from him and hit me in the eyes. I shut my eyes and felt another spurt land on my cheeks, then another spurt on my forehead. Finally, he shot his last load right into my mouth. I could feel the warm sticky mess dribbling down my face and dripping onto my shirt. He stepped away from me and picked up the towel, covering himself. Our positions had changed. Now I was the dirty guy in the gutter.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

“You could do with a shower yourself now,” he said.

I carefully unbuttoned my shirt, took it off and used it to dry my face. I got up slowly and walked towards the bathroom. There was a chair by the doorway where I placed the rest of my clothes.

“I’ll deal with you when you’ve washed, if you want,” he said. He pulled back the bedclothes and lay down on the sheets, curled up, with his head on the pillow.

“Hey! Can I sleep here tonight?” he shouted, as an afterthought.

“Sure,” I replied, from the bathroom. The room was paid for now. No-one would check up on him. In the morning he could slip out of the fire exit again. It had been something I had already thought of offering to him. I pushed the bathroom door, not closing it fully.

When I’d finished my shower, I dried off a little with the spare towel and noticed his filthy pile of clothes on the floor. Might it be worth washing them out in the sink? I wondered.

“Shall I give your stuff a…” I began as I went back into the bedroom. I stopped mid-sentence. He was wearing my trousers. And my socks. And therefore probably my pants. My damp shirt was hanging on the back of the chair where I’d left it. My face had a stunned expression.

“What?” he growled. “What’s the matter?”

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

All of this happened because of his face. Yesterday, on hearing the news that Terence Stamp had died, the whole episode from that time more than thirty years ago came back into bright focus. That is why I had no choice but to write it all down now as quickly as possible, as truthfully as my memory allows. I have never told this story before to anyone.

When I first met him, an hour ago, although I was terribly struck by his eyes and face, I hadn’t worked out who it was that he reminded me of so very much. But as he stood there with my clothes on his body the resemblance was clear.

“You look just like that actor, Terence Stamp,” I said. “Do you know who I mean?”

He shook his head, unaware of the effect he was creating.

“He’s a lot older than you, but when he was younger he had the very same blue eyes and exactly the same kind of face as you,” I explained. “It’s uncanny. You could be his double.”

I stood still and looked at him. He had become someone else now. I didn’t really know who he was anymore. At the same time I also felt my own identity melting away. I too was now someone else. Nothing would be the same after this night.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Things at that moment in my life were already undergoing a major change. I had started an affair with a man of my own age who lived on the outskirts of Cambridge. I had visited him a couple of times and those visits caused an understandable friction between myself and my current partner. Over the course of about six months, both relationships fell apart. I then found myself alone for the first time in ten years. Jack had appeared in my life at a pivotal moment where I was feeling truly sorry for myself. Three or four one-night stands had turned into five or six more furtive encounters in toilets, public parks and local beauty spots.

I know a lot more about Jack than it is necessary to tell in this account. I know his full name, for example, which is of French extraction. I know quite a bit about his family history, his upbringing, and his dependence on alcohol. The most striking thing about him - and this is an honest telling of our story - was his date of birth: exactly the same as mine. We were born on the same day in the same year.

Most of this got discovered that night. I did not return home but I stayed with him in that cheap hotel. I dressed back into my own clothes and got us some food from the pub, sandwiches and crisps. And in the morning, before check-out, I again got changed into my own clothes and found some items for us in the nearby Oxfam shop. In those days, that was the only place to get cheap second-hand clothes; other charities had yet to follow suit by opening their second-hand shops on the high streets.

And that night we made love. That's the only word I have for it. It requires a long pause before I can relate it fully and fairly. My heart is thumping away now and it is too late to get everything down before morning. I must rest and come back to this later. For he kept his promise. He did deal with me as he'd said he would. The memory of it is in my skin.

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By *ralBiguy63Man
2 weeks ago

manchester

Interesting

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Later that evening, as I lay face down next to him in bed, he climbed on top of me and fucked me. It hurt at first because he was so big. Fortunately, I had recently discovered the relaxing effects of the amyl nitrate aromas on my body. I had used them with my boyfriend in Cambridge, who introduced them to me. Now with Jack on top of me, I reached for the bottle and took four deep inhalations, two in each nostril. My own cock was rock hard against the sheets and as the vapours hit my system the whole universe began to alter. The pain of his first tentative pushes into me quickly passed into a feeling only of mild discomfort. I was able to take the length of his shaft deep into my body. He plunged further and further into me, grunting like an animal, as I groaned with a mixture of ecstasy and submission. I wanted this moment to last forever, the two of us bound together in a journey of sexual desire, touching places in the mind that could not be reached in any other way. I felt like one of those butterflies in a museum collection, stuck down to a board with pins. I lifted my buttocks as much as I could, letting him get deeper and deeper into the dark pit of my rectum. He was going to climax soon, I could tell from his moans. His hot breath was in my ear as he bit down on my neck. I could smell the sourness and smokiness of it. Then everything slowed down and he stopped, lying completely still above me. He slipped his hands beneath my belly and reached for my cock, taking it in his grasp. The touch of his hand upon me there was enough to set off into another stage of feelings. I took more sniffs at the bottle. The rush of it hit my head, heart and cock. There was a convulsive spasm. My cock shot forth its white seed, spurting out onto the clean white sheets, his hand working it wildly. He pushed himself deeper inside me and with a tremendous grunt of effort and pleasure he climaxed into me, jerking his body backwards and forwards on top of me as he emptied himself for the second time that evening. He collapsed down on top of me, lying still, his heart beating strongly against my body. His hands found mine and we lay there silently, hands clasped together, waiting for one of us to move.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

For days after I could smell him on my flesh and in my hair. Eventually, I didn't know whether it was his smell or mine. It was the smell of the homeless, the desperate, the lost, the neglected. That was now me, psychologically. I was not the man I was before.

I paid for another night’s stay at the hotel. It was now Saturday afternoon. We had woken up quite early that morning, made love again, taken our breakfast together, and then we’d arranged to meet later that afternoon. He had a friend to meet somewhere in town and I needed to check on my car.

I got back early just before noon and waited for him impatiently, watching TV. I took a long hot bath. I watched more television, an old black-and-white movie, a film noir from the forties. By six o’clock he had not returned. I went out into the town to see if I could find him. The shops were closed and the restaurants were not yet open. Only a few stragglers were about. After about half-an-hour I made my way back to the hotel. Our room was empty. I kept the curtains open so that I could look down on the street in the hope of spotting him. It was dark by now, cold outside, the end of October.

We had thrown his old clothes into a carrier bag and they sat in a corner of the bathroom. That was the only proof of his existence. Then, at eleven o’clock, the door opened and he staggered in. Perhaps he had fallen over, for his clothes were wet. He was very d*unk.

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By *rgeo OP Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Later that night, as he snored and slept, I crept away. I left him. I returned home. And I never saw him again after that. It is an unbearable memory. It was both too beautiful and too ugly. It was something I couldn't deal with. Now when I think back it all seems like a dream. For years afterwards I would torture myself by replaying the events of that weekend in my head. Often I would masturbate to the story of our love-making, knowing that it was only real in my imagination. What I called love was to him nothing like love.

Without a doubt he was one of the most beautiful men I have ever met. The strange coincidence of our birthdays always haunts me. I shall never know what I did right or wrong in regard to him. A few years later I tried to research his name and find clues to his whereabouts but it all came to nothing. Even with the advent of the internet and family tree websites, all my searches drew a blank. The only solace was that I never found his name in the death notices.

While I held him in my arms, I loved him unlike anyone else in my life. But my love and attention was not going to save him. My own generosity had turned against me in that instance. It did him and me no favours to give him so much money.

Some may say I used him for sex. But from my perspective I have always felt that it was the other way round. My way of looking at it was that he deserved a good time in bed as much as he deserved a good meal or a clean bed. Something in his eyes told me that from the moment I first saw him. The look he gave me was no different from the look I have seen from dozens of other men, wanting to be noticed, wanting to be loved.

But he was not ready for the fullness of it; and so only the emptiness of it hit home. Maybe one day he found it somewhere else with someone else. I shall never know. There is very little point in speculating about it any further. However, the story needed to be told. For it is a short pause from the cradle to the grave and we must love one another on the way. Only then maybe death has some meaning.

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