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The Man with the Wild Red Hair

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He was standing stock still in the middle of the mall, his head down, tilted sideways, looking at a shop window. I assumed that he was waiting for someone. I noticed his wild red hair, and a ginger beard and moustache framing a handsome intelligent face. He was wearing a smart long winter coat, with tight-fitting trousers, red socks and white trainers. All these impressions were recorded on first sight.

I nipped into a shop just along from him in the mall. It sells DVDs, and I was hoping to find a rare copy of an old TV show. On my exit from the shop he was still there, in the same position, people walking past him. It looked and felt odd. I walked on but kept looking back. He was now staring in my direction, but it was impossible to tell if he saw me or not.

Suddenly, he jolted forward and began to move in a strange disembodied fashion, as though being pulled along by an unseen force. He started running in the opposite direction, his long coat flapping as he moved. Something compelled me to follow him, as quickly as I could.

He had turned a corner and could have gone in several directions, but then I noticed his wild red hair descending an escalator to the lower level. Soon I was right behind him. By now he had taken up a new position outside a different shop, his head tilted, eyes staring. I walked past him again and this time I tried to make eye contact. He seemed to be miles away.

I waited for a few minutes and then retraced my steps. He was still there, right in the middle of the passageway so that people had to walk around him. None of them looked back at him as I had done. I began to wonder if this was some form of street theatre, a Dadaist experiment. He seemed much too neat and well-groomed to be mentally ill, which was another thought I'd had.

He was about ten years younger than me, I guessed. He looked anything between twenty and thirty. I assumed the latter. I was forty. Maybe he was not even twenty. For there was something ethereal and timeless about him. I wanted to know him, to speak to him.

What would I say?

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

At that time, I’d been living on my own for about a year, having left a long-term relationship of more than ten years. Frankly, I was glad to be out of it, but also I found I got lonely easily and so would instigate a few ill-conceived one night stands. Nothing had gone beyond that in the last twelve months. But I was still lonely and often horny. The porn I watched online helped with the horniness, but an aching sense of loneliness wouldn’t really subside.

And I was only interested in men, let’s get that clear before we continue.

Though I must admit I was a late starter, not even touching another guy until I was in my early twenties. Being a romantic, I looked for love first with sex as an additional bonus, never the other way round. I found a couple of guys who interested me and struck up relationships with them both early on in my working life. The first was a university lecturer, who was a lot older than me; we went out together for about two years. The second was my age, working in the mental health profession. I lived with him for over ten years, as I said.

Anyway, the point is that my noticing the man with the wild red hair was primarily due to a sexual attraction, conscious or unconscious. Yes, I wanted to know more about him. But I also wanted to know what he might feel like, smell like and taste like. My brain didn’t register this at the time as anything more than a sense of interest in someone who stood out from the crowd.

I never got the chance to say anything to him that afternoon because by the time I’d plucked up enough courage to approach him, he’d disappeared. I’d walked past for a third time and pretended to be heading for the mall’s carpark. In order to make it look convincing, I summoned the elevator and stepped inside, rising to the fifth floor and descending back again to the mezzanine more or less straightaway. By which time he’d gone.

Naturally, I retraced my steps, - which were also his steps, I suppose, - and tried to find him somewhere inside the mall. He had vanished. So I went for a drink in a quiet cafe on the other side of town and resolved to walk back and try again later. He was still nowhere to be seen.

More than a month must have passed and I forgot all about him. The place where I’d seen him was not somewhere I often visited; for it was a town about thirty miles away from where I lived. The only reason I’d gone there in the first place was to look for that DVD, which I never did manage to find. Then one day, I remembered first about the DVD and then about him. On an impulse, I took the train back to the same town. I made the excuse to myself that taking the train added another dimension to the trip, made it more worthwhile.

He was sitting alone in the window of a coffee shop, a place at the bottom of the main shopping street, impossible to miss as I walked past, the hair wilder than ever.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Who’s to say whether it was lust or love that drew me to him? Perhaps they’re more similar than we realise. Either way, I knew I couldn’t leave without making some sort of contact with him, however clumsy. It was midday and I was ready for lunch. Also, I liked the range of sandwiches in this particular cafe. Even if he hadn’t been sitting there, I would have been tempted to go inside.

It was not too busy. Having paid for my food and collected my hot drink, I looked about for a suitable place to sit. There was plenty of choice. There was no way I could pretend I wanted to share his table out of lack of space; that option wasn’t open to me. He was sitting at a table that looked out into the street. I could either sit behind him or along from him. There was no place to sit where I could be facing him, which would have been my preferred choice. I wanted to study him some more, gain a little information before making any kind of move. It was then that I noticed that he was sitting there without food or drink in front of him. He was simply staring out of the window, apparently watching the people walking past. It was a wholly pedestrian street, no traffic, just people.

I sat between him and the door, so that he would have to walk right past me if he decided to leave. I was able to place my chair at a slight angle, which gave me a view of his face, his profile at least. He was younger than I remembered and had to readjust my calculations. It was now very likely that he was more than twenty years younger than me, young enough to be my son, if I’d been reckless enough to sire a child at twenty.

No-one from the staff working behind the counter seemed bothered that he was sitting there without food or drink; they were too busy either serving customers or chatting to one another. And it had started to get busy, as we were approaching the lunchtime rush. I noticed men in suits from local offices starting to appear in ones and twos, as well as a number of other people, perhaps themselves working in nearby shops, who wanted something quick to take away.

In the end, I decided that there was nothing else I could do but to go up to him and start a conversation. Otherwise, I could have spent the rest of the afternoon stalking him, which started to feel wrong the more I considered it. Also, I didn’t fancy the prospect of sitting there for much longer without an excuse for remaining. I had polished off the sandwich and was left with a few dregs of coffee. I was considering buying a pastry and a second drink, when I decided to grip the bull by the horns and take a risk.

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By *kyluke69Man
3 weeks ago

Gravesend

So far so good please continue

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By *uckitboiMan
3 weeks ago

Chelmsford

Keep going

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By *reyunMan
3 weeks ago

Perth

Please keep going.

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By *ralBiguy63Man
3 weeks ago

manchester

Please continue

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By *eilpishereMan
3 weeks ago

rare visit home, wanna suck cock

I love a redhead

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By *e again 200Man
3 weeks ago

edinburgh

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Very simply, I went over to his table and sat down on the opposite chair, facing him. I didn’t say a word. I just sat there, looking out into the main room of the cafe and off into the distance at the arched stone wall at the back, which had been left unaltered from centuries ago, giving to that section of the cafe the illusion of being in a crypt. I had my back to the street. I waited. I didn’t even look at him. It felt like playing him at his own game. Neither of us had anything on the table. Anyone observing us casually would have assumed either that we were waiting for table service or for a third friend to join us.

Funnily enough, that had been one of my possible opening gambits. I had already thought of several things I might say to him, one of which was to tell him that it was a self-service place. Another idea had been to ask him for help with something. In the end, I opted for complete silence. My heart was beating faster than usual. It was quite helpful not having to speak as I am sure my voice would have faltered.

“They are all robots,” he said, looking straight at me. “What some people call non-player characters.”

I had heard this phrase before and recognised the implied insult.

“NCPs,” he said.

I nodded, meeting his gaze, noticing for the first time that he had pale green eyes.

“Do you want a drink?”

I was startled by the simplicity and the obviousness of the request. It was totally unexpected. I had been preparing myself for something, but not this.

“Yes, please,” I said, almost involuntarily, “I’d love a tea.”

He left his place at the table and went over to the counter to order. I wondered if I had just responded to him in an NCP fashion. It felt likely that I had. The words had come out of me unplanned, automatic, resorting to a habit, following a routine. Maybe I should have asked for something more exotic than tea.

When he came back, he had two paper cups with him, each with the tag from a tea bag hanging out of them.

“MIlk?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” I said, and he went off to get some.

He returned with the milk flask and added drops to each of our drinks.

“Enough?”

“Yes, thank you.”

On his return, he took from the pocket of his coat a paper bag, which he ripped open and placed on the table before us.

“Cookie?” he asked.

I took one and smiled, determined to remain silent now and not offer any kind of usual platitude. While he was fetching the milk, my mind had raced far ahead and had made all sorts of calculations about myself, seeing robotic characteristics in virtually everything I might say or do. Even the prospect of sex with him now came under this category.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"What shall I call you?" he asked.

It was an odd way to put it; I felt immediately released of some petty obligation and yet also ill at ease.

"Tom," I replied, not giving my real name.

He nodded gravely, as though I had revealed a terrible secret about myself.

"What will you call me?"

This second question was far stranger than the first. It hit me in the solar plexus, or, at least, in that place where I had always assumed the solar plexus lay, i.e. very near the groin.

"Fox," I said.

It was the word that had already entered my consciousness whenever I thought about him.

He smiled and then looked away, his gaze once more back on the crowds of people outside.

"Fox fucks," he said. "Does Tom fuck foxes?"

"Tom does," said Tom, more than aroused by the sudden turn in the conversation, so much so that I had to move my legs to get comfortable.

He looked back at me and this time I got the strong impression that he was only now seeing me for the first time.

"Fox has never been fucked before. Will you do it right?"

I blinked a couple of times, playing for time, I suppose.

He was still looking at me seriously, scrutinising me. I nodded but didn't speak. I couldn't speak, truth told.

"Drink up and follow me then."

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By *astingsboyMan
3 weeks ago

Hastings

would love to meet a ginger. Few and far between down here.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

His flat was part of an old converted building about ten minutes walk away, over the bridge that crossed the river into a quieter but rougher part of town. There were three or four fast food joints, a convenience store and a tatty second-hand bookshop. His place was in an alley beside the bookshop.

I had done as he had asked and just followed him, with no conversation whatsoever. Several times I thought about turning around and running away. By the time we got into the alley together it was too late to back out.

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By *ita99TV/TS
3 weeks ago

bognor

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By *erton guyMan
3 weeks ago

Wolverhampton

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By *ich65Man
3 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *reyunMan
3 weeks ago

Perth

This is getting better. Looking forward to the next episode.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

From the skylight in his flat, which occupied the whole of the attic space, four flights up, there was a perfect view of the town and the river, with even a glimpse of the ruined castle about a mile away. The place always reminded me of Chester, which was about sixty miles away. Parts of it felt very much like a city, especially the rambling medieval passages and cobbled lanes, but it was yet to be granted city status, an odd omission.

It was a fairly clean and tidy place. My heart had sunk on entering the hallway below. Ascending the staircase, it smelt of stale air; and everywhere needed a fresh coat of paint. The stairs themselves were bare wood, the landings too.

He took off his coat and placed it on a hanger which was on a hook behind the bedroom door. I was still looking out at the view when he spoke to me.

“Why?” he asked.

I turned around and faced him. Without his coat off, his hair seemed even wilder. I gave an answer to the question based on where I thought he was going with it.

“Because you’re very interesting,” I said.

“But why sex?” he asked, quite sternly this time.

I didn’t know what to say; I thought the answer was obvious. Perhaps I frowned or looked puzzled.

“Why not something else?” he asked, offering me yet another conundrum.

I was still wearing my coat and didn’t know what to do about it, afraid of making a hasty assumption. I decided to try my own line of questioning, with much easier answers attached.

“How old are you?”

He turned his head to one side, just as he had on the first occasion I saw him.

“How old would you like me to be?” he murmured, his voice a little deeper and slower now.

I could feel my heart racing by now. I opted for the truth.

“Eighteen?” I said, facing him squarely, not quite folding my arms but holding myself.

He smiled and his eyes widened.

“OK,” he said, “I can do that. Do you want to take off your coat?”

I had clearly passed some sort of test.

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By *ich65Man
3 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The more I heard him speak, the more convinced I was that he was not English; there was the trace of an accent which was emphasised when he uttered certain words. For example, the words ‘want’ and ‘coat’ came out more like ‘vant’ and ‘court.’ But for the rest of that afternoon, once I had removed my coat, there was very little else said by either of us.

No sooner had I taken off my coat and placed it over the back of the chair, which was tucked in under a large modern wooden desk, than he was stripping off everything he wore, including his red socks. He lay naked face down on the bed, waiting for me. It was wintry outside and there had even been a few flakes of snow in the air earlier when we walked from the cafe. The flat, however, was warm and cosy, the bedroom especially. I wondered if he had planned all along to lure someone back to his place, if this was a regular thing.

“Come and fuck me now,” he said. “No kissing.”

He turned his head to look at me.

“Tom.”

“Yes?”

“Come and fuck your Fox.”

I was miffed that there was to be no kissing. It meant a whole level of intimacy would be missing from our encounter. I wanted to protest but I was also highly aroused at the sight of him laid out for me. Most of his body was smooth, though when I got close enough to touch there were fine light hairs along his legs. It was as though the long frizzy hair on his head had taken all the energy for hair growth out of the rest of his body. Although he did have a perfectly sculpted beard and moustache.

And he smelt divine, as clean as though fresh from a shower, his skin emanating a delicious sweet scent. It made the denial of kissing even crueller as I knew he would taste magnificent.

I sat on top of him and rubbed his back gently, then his shoulders, kneading his neck. He rolled his head in appreciation of the contact. I had the impression that I could do anything with him, that I did not need to seek permission for anything. Very soon I was inside him, unable to contain myself. The musky odour as I licked him first had inflamed and engorged me. It was like fucking a dream. I had never been so hard with any man. I’d spat into his hole like in a hot porn movie and moistened him well. I slipped inside him without any effort, finding it hard to believe that this was his first time. He’d moaned and let out a long breath as my shaft plunged into him. He took it well, the whole length. My mind was in ecstasy. I fell down upon him and sunk my teeth into his neck, feeling his long curly hair tickling my face. The temptation to reach for his mouth with mine was overwhelming. It filled me with a kind of anger that I couldn’t have him like that. Then the anger really turned me on and I harnessed it, riding him faster and rougher, until I came.

“You can go now,” he said, after I had withdrawn and rolled over beside him.

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By *uckitboiMan
3 weeks ago

Chelmsford

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By *ich65Man
3 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Whenever I relate this story, to friends or to strangers, I often think it would be a tale best told in the third person. In that way, one would be able to give more of an insight into the workings of the mind of the man with the wild red hair. But on reflection, of course, one would in all actuality be left still very much in the dark. One would have to invent motives and assign causes to actions and all the rest of that rigamarole. However much one tried, we would remain in the dark about what goes on inside him.

For the rest of that following week, I beat myself up for behaving so badly, so stupidly, so carnally. He had asked me to do it right and I had failed him; and thus I’d failed myself.

I had dressed quickly, run down the stairs at breakneck speed and was out in the street all within a couple of minutes. Without saying a single word to him, I’d left him on the bed. In a foul mood I walked all the way back to the train station, waited impatiently for the next train, and by then a welter of negative thoughts and feelings were gathering impetus inside me. The foulness persisted for a week in one form or another. Overhead, like a big black cloud, hung the same question: Why not something else?

Without any kind of contact apart from knowing where he lived - and I didn’t even have a proper address for that place - my only option for seeing him again, if I wanted to, was to return to the scene of the crime. I considered going back a week later, but my anger was still strong and I felt he didn’t deserve any more of my time. Only by being angry with him could I assuage the anger I felt at myself. And I kept telling myself that there was no future with a man whom one couldn’t even kiss.

Winter turned to spring and once again I forgot all about him, except for moments late at night when I would re-enact the sex inside my head and enjoy myself a little with a satisfyingly angry wank at his expense. I had a couple of one-night stands with men of a similar age to me, men I could meet anonymously through online connections. They were both friendly, sexy guys and I had a good time with both of them, but nothing more came of it than that. Once or twice I’d dream that Fox would find me, by some coincidence, perhaps passing me in the street, but it was unlikely he’d often have the need to travel outside of his home town.

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By *ich65Man
3 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

One morning I awoke from a long dream all about him and knew that I had to do something.

There were eight surnames at the entrance to the house, none of them very helpful. I just assumed that one of the names at the top corresponded with the top floor. When I pressed the buttons at the side of each name, neither of them answered. I tried three more before anyone answered, a woman’s voice. I said I was trying to get hold of the man who lived in the attic flat. She at least confirmed that it was one of the top buttons. The two names for the top flats were both foreign: one was Fischer; the other was Kiss. I decided to walk around the town and return an hour later. It was a Saturday afternoon. As I walked from street to street, I resolved to remain in town until as late as possible, knowing that the last train was at midnight.

It wasn’t until my third return to the house that I got a reply from one of the top flats, from the man named Fischer. The conversation with him was bizarre. I first told him my name and said I was looking for a friend with red hair. That was the best I could come up with. His English was poor and I soon realised that he wasn’t Fox, but he insisted on coming downstairs to see me. He was a middle-aged guy, dark-skinned, well-built, with what must have been a deformed leg for he wore a regular shoe on one foot and a large boot on the other. I felt very bad about his having to climb back up those four flights of stairs. I went away unsure that Fox still lived there.

There was a small Turkish restaurant on the riverside, which friends had recommended to me about two years ago. This provided me with a chance to pass the next hour. By the time I made my fourth visit it was half past seven.

“Hello,” said the voice.

“Fox,” I said, “It’s Tom.”

Nothing for a good ten seconds. In that short interval of time I felt sure of two things: I had found him and he wanted nothing to do with me. But suddenly a buzzer sounded and the door clicked open.

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By *reyunMan
2 weeks ago

Perth

This is intriguing…. Looking forward to what is next.

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By *ralBiguy63Man
2 weeks ago

manchester

Please do continue

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. The very first thing he did, even before we got inside the flat, was to kiss me in what I can only describe as a full-throated fashion. I was taken aback and felt extremely self-conscious because of the spicy meal I had just eaten. His mouth tasted just as I had imagined it: soft, clean and fresh. I was angered at the impudence of the kiss; it felt like an assault. I had wanted some warning. At the same time had he put his hands around me and pulled me in close to him, fondling my backside. This too felt like a sudden invasion of privacy. In effect, he had given me everything I craved for before I had stepped over the threshold.

"Tom?" he asked, as though I might not have been the person who pressed the bell earlier. "Are you still Tom today?"

The penny dropped for me. I nodded.

"And are you still Fox?" I asked.

He took my hand and led me through into a different room from before, a sitting room, where his hand gestures indicated that I should sit.

He stood in front of me. He was wearing the same tight trousers and red socks, without shoes, and a black vest.

"You fucked me well," he said at last, having spent a good minute or so looking me over, inspecting me from head to toe. "Thank you, Tom."

Unexpectedly, I was rock hard. I had determined to see him, to say my piece and to leave. Though exactly what my piece would have sounded like I shall never know. We were beyond that now. Unless he threw me out, I would never leave.

We were facing one another, me seated with my coat on, and him standing with his legs apart and his head cocked to one side. I knew right then that I loved him, just for the way he held his head.

"May I?" I said, showing that I wished to remove my coat.

He beckoned for me to stand and helped me off with it. He took it away with him to another room and came back with it on a hanger, which he placed over the door.

"Thank you," I said, touched at his courtesy.

"How old am I tonight?" he murmured, talking more to himself than to me.

"How old shall I be, Tom?" he asked, turning back to face me.

I was sitting back on the sofa. I looked at him carefully for signs of his true age. It was impossible to gauge.

"Thirty!" I said impulsively.

He laughed, looked very serious, and then laughed again.

"So you're also into old men, not just boys!"

We laughed together. It was the first such occasion, memorable.

Then he landed with a bump next to me.

"Sex?" he asked, "Or something else?"

I was prepared for the question. After all, I had been thinking of nothing else for the last three months.

"Both," I replied. "Why not both?"

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He jumped up from the sofa, turned around and landed smack on my lap, straddling me and looking straight into my eyes.

“Greedy man,” he said, staring into the depths of my soul with his piercing pale green eyes.

I had never before known anyone to hold my gaze for so long and with such intensity. To begin with it was like being burned alive. Then it felt like drowning. Then everything blurred into one and I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. Sometimes I detected a half smile on his face, sometimes the hint of a frown, sometimes a look of wonder and abandonment. Perhaps he was just mirroring what I was feeling too. It was an unbelievably intimate connection and yet we weren’t doing anything but looking at one another.

He started to loosen the buttons of my shirt until it was half undone. I was wearing a white T-shirt underneath which he gently rubbed, making circular motions with his hand across my chest. Then with one finger he made the same smaller movement over my left nipple. My face gave away what effect this had on me but I was desperate to maintain our eye contact, which so far had been unfaltering. His hand reached down my belly and he pulled up my T-shirt so that he could get to my bare flesh. Then he worked on both nipples alternately, getting more and more rougher with them as he proceeded. There were moments when I wanted to cry out, especially when he twisted them between his two fingers, but I managed to rein it in. The sheer excitement of looking right into the eyes of my beautiful torturer was exquisite. And I knew that by now I’d be leaking gallons of precum.

Then he kissed me and his hands moved up from my body to grasp me round the head as he pulled me into him, his lips and teeth clashing against mine, his tongue filling my mouth so that I could hardly breathe.

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By *reyunMan
2 weeks ago

Perth

This is developing very nicely.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"You will stay here tonight," he said.

At last I found the courage to touch him myself, placing my hands on his face in an echo of what he had done to me. His trim neat beard felt good against my palms. I looked for the first time at his hair, a red wild plant, a wonder of nature, and pushed my fingers into the thick of it, gently scratching his scalp with my fingertips. There was a heady woody scent of exotic oils, of oud, of citrus, of the forest floor. I drank it all in, eager to have my fill of him. He responded with faint moans of pleasure, murmurs of appreciation and acceptance. I had never known a man so beautiful.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"Enough sex for now, eh?" he said.

Funnily enough, I agreed with him. It felt right to pause. Besides, we weren't even half undressed. We had barely said, "Hello!"

"You've eaten?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Marmaris."

He nodded in approval.

"Good choice," he said, pausing slightly before adding, "Tom."

I looked at him. We were still face to face, barely six inches apart.

I shook my head.

"You first," I said.

"Aron," he answered, placing the emphasis on the second syllable.

I smiled delightedly.

"A. Kiss!" I laughed. "A-fucking-Kiss!"

"And you?"

And I told him my real name.

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By *orwichscotMan
2 weeks ago

Livingston

This is weirdly intriguing and very sexy!

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By *ich65Man
2 weeks ago

Chorley

Loving this 🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He jumped off me and disappeared into the next room.

“I have to eat now,” came a disembodied voice from around the corner, followed by the clatter of utensils.

As he prepared his supper, I stayed where I was and inspected the room more closely. It was a tidy place, sparsely furnished, though what there was seemed of good quality. As well as the sturdy wooden desk and the wide black sofa, there was a tall wooden bookcase at the far end of the room, filled haphazardly with books of all colours and sizes, a couple of small coffee tables and an old wooden cabin trunk on top of which sat a selection of house plants. The room had dormer windows, unlike the bedroom with its skylights. This meant one could look out at the view without having to stand up. I could see hundreds of rooftops, one or two with smoking chimneys, with green mountains in the very far distance, on the border with Wales.

Afterwards, he took me back to his bedroom. It was late now. He had cooked and eaten a simple rice dish with mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes in a red wine sauce. We had both d*unk the rest of the bottle of red wine. He undressed me slowly, throwing my discarded clothes over a chair. For a while I was completely naked in front of him while he remained fully clothed. It felt like a surrender, a submission, an offering of vulnerability. Then he asked me to do the same to him. Once we were both undressed, he took me into the bathroom and allowed me to use his toothbrush. He stood behind me at the sink as I cleaned my teeth, pressing his hard cock against my body. He was circumcised, as was I. He reached into the cabinet and took out a piece of something that looked like candlewax. It was a scented deodorant. He lifted my arms and rubbed it into me. Then he kissed me and took me back into the bedroom.

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By *reyunMan
2 weeks ago

Perth

Loving this. Slow and sensuous

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By *ockcraver2000Man
2 weeks ago

Ashford kent

[Removed by poster at 19/01/26 12:31:17]

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By *uckitboiMan
2 weeks ago

Chelmsford

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

On Sunday morning I awoke to a kiss on the lips and found him knelt down at my side, staring at me like I was some creature from another world. He glanced to his left and following his eyes I saw a steaming cup of tea. Not just a teacup but a proper cup and saucer, with a small jug of milk next to it. He'd assumed, rightly, that I didn't take sugar. I sat up and he plumped the pillow behind me, passing me a second one from his side of the bed. Then he went and fetched two more pillows for himself from the top shelf of the fitted wardrobe. There was a second identical cup and saucer on the cabinet on his side of the bed.

It was a king-sized bed with a brown upholstered sleigh frame. There was something different about the room from last time and then I realised what it was. There were now wooden cabinets on both sides of the bed, not just the one. When I'd visited him in winter there was just the one on what I now knew to be his side of the bed. He preferred sleeping on the left side. Personally, I didn't mind which side I slept on. Anyway, the bed was big enough to sleep three comfortably, let alone two.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Also, I realised that he had moved the desk from the bedroom to the living room. It hadn’t registered with me on the previous night. Now where the desk had been there was a smart chest of drawers which matched the cabinets. It made sense to move the desk because now anyone sitting at it would have a view across the town. The nature of the sloping attic walls made them useless for hanging pictures, but he had a few dotted about at ground level, resting on the carpet. It was a warm reddish berber loop carpet that ran throughout the flat, except for in the kitchen and bathroom.

I was still feeling a little sore downstairs as I sat there sipping my tea. This time, he had fucked me.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He had said to me, as he led me into the bedroom:

"It would be nice if Fox fucked Tom tonight, don't you think?"

"Very nice!" I had replied.

"Gently or roughly?"

It was unusual to have a choice. Most men didn't ask. I certainly hadn't asked him. It made me feel odd.

"I don't mind," I answered, stumped by the question.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"Gently or roughly?" he'd repeated.

We got under the sheets.

"Think about it. Don't be so hasty."

We lay there for a while, turned in towards one another. He had switched off all the lights. A candle burned on each bedside table. The shadows flickered on the ceiling.

"Gently," I said.

He leaned forward and nibbled my ear.

"Of course," he said. "We are making love tonight."

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By *ich65Man
2 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *orwichscotMan
2 weeks ago

Livingston

This is so beautifully written. Well done sir.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON


"This is so beautifully written. Well done sir. "

Thank you!

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By *reyunMan
2 weeks ago

Perth

I’m really enjoyed this. So well written. And looking forward to how it develops

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By *kdwMan
2 weeks ago

Hull

Great story, more please

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 weeks ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Impetuously, I asked him a direct question:

“Why did you buy another bedside table?”

“For you, of course,” he replied immediately, as though the answer was obvious.

I looked at him, puzzled. I opened my mouth to speak but he interrupted me:

“You fancy me; I intrigue you; and you are very lonely,” he stated in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh!” I said, unable to find anything to refute in what he had just said.

“We won’t live together, but you’ll visit me many times,” he explained. “It is all sorted.”

No more was said about it and then he did what he had promised to do, which was to make love to me, during the course of which he fucked me very slowly and tenderly. It hurt a little because he was quite big, and I was not used to it, but once he was fully inside me the feeling was tremendously good. When he came he shook his head and I could feel his wild red hair flicking across my neck.

Afterwards, I couldn’t resist saying to him:

“You can go now.”

He laughed and held me close.

“I knew you’d be back,” he said. “I could see it in your eyes right from the start.”

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By *kdwMan
2 weeks ago

Hull

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By *reyunMan
2 weeks ago

Perth

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By *ich65Man
2 weeks ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *itom87Man
2 weeks ago

Wigan

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By *teosubMan
2 weeks ago

love watcn porn as da n unbuttons me shirt clamps n works me nips n edging me coc as he milks me prostrate

Mmmm

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By *upertedMan
2 weeks ago

Nelson

At the mall? Must be in America.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 week ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Before I left, later that afternoon, two things of significance passed between us.

First, he lent me three books, all fiction, of different genres. I was asked to look after them, read them carefully without cracking the spines.

Second, we discovered our true ages.

“So, how old are you then?” I ventured, fully expecting to be rebuffed.

“Twenty-five,” he said.

Then he looked at me with his sideways-tilted head.

“Forty,” I replied.

“Forty! Christ!” he spluttered. “I had you down for thirty. Thought you could pass for my brother. Now you’d pass for my father!”

I stood back and offered him the same treatment, watching him, expressionless, with a slight tilt of my head.

“What about passing for your lover?” I asked, “Isn’t that more accurate, and more honest?”

He smiled, softly at first, just a few wrinkles moving, and then his whole face beamed.

“Fuck, yes!” he said. “Too right.”

Then it was time to kiss and to part for another week.

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By *reyunMan
1 week ago

Perth

Great story….many thanks.

I hope there’s more to come.

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By *itom87Man
1 week ago

Wigan

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By *kdwMan
1 week ago

Hull

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By *ich65Man
1 week ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥💜😈

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By *tmguylookingMan
1 week ago

Chesterfield

Brilliant, can't understand how I missed this one

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The following Saturday, we had agreed to meet in town in the marketplace at midday. The plan was to have lunch and possibly take in a film afterwards. Once again, I travelled in by train, setting off early so that I could have at least half-an-hour to myself before meeting him. In the event, the journey went so smoothly that I ended up having nearly an hour, arriving at exactly eleven o’clock, although it was a good fifteen minute walk from the station to the market square. On the way, I went via the shopping arcade, hoping to find a copy of the elusive television show from about twenty years ago.

There he was, in virtually the same spot as the very first time I saw him. This time, being warmer, he had opted for a bright red sweater instead of his winter coat. He stood like a flash of colour amid the mainly grey crowd of shoppers. His usual stance, watching, motionless. He noticed me coming towards him and smiled, his face beaming, the mop of red hair moving slightly on recognition, but clearly he was determined to remain static. As I got within touching distance of him, he held out his hands and took mine. Then, in full view of the people passing along the arcade, he threw his arms around me and kissed me passionately on the lips.

Our embrace lasted for a long time. Instinctively, we both leaned into it, regardless of the passers-by. We were past caring what the world might or might not think about two men displaying such obvious affection for one another. Fox even played up the sexual nature of our attraction by placing his hands on my buttocks, squeezing them through the rough fabric of my jeans as if the kissing was not clue enough.

"Lunch?" he asked, finally, after the minutes had passed.

"Italian?" I replied.

"Sì, signore," and we headed off.

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By *500Man
7 days ago

London

Fantastic

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By *kdwMan
7 days ago

Hull

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By *teveapriestMan
7 days ago

Kearsley Bolton

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By *tmguylookingMan
7 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

It was over a meal of linguine in a small restaurant tucked away down a cobbled alleyway that we both first met Enrico, the sexy little waiter with the bright blue eyes. We must have shocked him a quite a bit with our openness.

First, we fed each other samples from our own meals, winding the pasta threads around our forks, mine with a mushroom sauce and his with prawns, both delicious.

Then we complimented him on his beautiful eyes. A direct compliment from two men to another. Quite flagrant really. We had already decided that we'd happily take him to our bed. Things were moving fast with us. A lot of it was unspoken, understood at a deeper natural level, chiefly sexual, ultimately homosexual.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"We could cover him in marinara sauce and take turns to lick it off," I suggested.

Fox pulled a face. He had a sweet tooth.

"Tiramisu then," I said.

His face lit up and he licked his lips.

Enrico was standing by the bar, half watching us, half looking out for new customers. Each time he noticed one of us looking back at him, he turned away, whether out of shyness or out of anger was hard to say. My feeling was that he would eventually be willing to join us for some exchange of bodily fluids.

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By *kdwMan
7 days ago

Hull

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The only indication that he might be open to dropping his trousers for us came at the very end of the meal, just as we were leaving.

"We'll see you again soon, I hope," he said, smiling warmly, meeting my gaze directly and handing me the receipt.

Fox then took the receipt out of my hand, wrote down his telephone number on the back of it and gave it back to the waiter.

"As soon as you wish," he said

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By *itom87Man
7 days ago

Wigan

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By *reyunMan
7 days ago

Perth

This is getting even more intriguing

Loving it!

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By *kdwMan
7 days ago

Hull

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By *tmguylookingMan
7 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

We headed for the small cinema which sat in a modern conversion above the old market hall. As we ascended in the glass elevator, we embraced one another again, and kissed again, only vaguely aware of the people below for whom we must have looked like two fish in a bowl. While we were taking our seats, a message pinged on his phone and I guessed what it was.

“Enrico is free all day Tuesday,” said Fox. “He wants to see us.”

“Both of us or just you?” I asked, knowing that it would be difficult for me to get time off from work.

Fox read out the text: “I would like to see you. I am free until 5pm on Tuesday. Enrico.”

“Could be read either way, I suppose,” he said. “Why?”

“I’m working Tuesday,” I explained.

With my job, any weekday would be difficult for such an assignation.

“Do you mind if I see him alone then?” asked Fox.

“I don’t know,” I replied, not quite honestly.

We had already started to have these kinds of conversations, instigated by Fox. It was what had led us to our blatant flirting with the waiter. The novelty of being honest with one another about desiring other men had excited me at first and I had happily gone along with it. Now that it came to the reality of it, I was not so sure. It was one thing to parade ourselves in front of some anonymous shoppers; it was something else to draw a third person into our orbit.

“What would you do in my place?” he asked me.

I knew that I would find it hard to resist seeing the waiter. I might pretend that it didn't bother me but my cock would rule the day. Given half a chance, I would take Enrico.

“I’d meet him,” I said, immediately regretting my honesty, sensing a surge of jealousy arising inside me.

We watched the film in silence and it wasn’t until later that evening that we returned to the subject of Enrico. I had watched my feelings coming and going as the film flickered above our heads. He must have been aware of my tension for he occasionally reached over and held my hand. At the end of the film, going back down in the elevator, we stood apart. We walked slowly back to his place, stopping to buy a few things that would provide us with a decent supper later.

“Until I met you,” said Fox, once we had finished eating, “I have been celibate for four years. I am happy to wait until all three of us can get together.”

“Four years?” I gasped, astounded at the thought.

He nodded.

“I don’t mind being on my own,” he added. “But I like the sex with you very much.”

This begged the question of why we were flirting with another guy, trying to persuade him to get into bed with us.

“I want to see you with another man, watch what you do,” he said, which suddenly made it both very much simpler and yet more complicated than ever.

“So we’ll wait then,” I said, checking that I had understood things clearly.

“No,” said Fox, “Enrico will wait. We’ll carry on as before.”

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By *tmguylookingMan
7 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *reyunMan
7 days ago

Perth

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By *ich65Man
7 days ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥💜😈

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By *kdwMan
7 days ago

Hull

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By *rgeo OP   Man
6 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The next Saturday, things ran a slightly different course. This time I went straight to his place. We were to have a light lunch together. He’d baked some sourdough bread, which we consumed with cheese and homemade pickles, and a Torta di Peche, but he used plums instead of peaches. It was baked flat in the Italian style, dotted with plum halves; it had a slight tang of lemon which emphasised the sweetness of the plums.

But before that, barely having entered the flat, he asked me:

“How many times did you jerk off this week?”

I thought for a few seconds.

“Three,” I said.

“Same here!”

He seemed pleased that we were in sync; and I was too.

We were halfway through the cheese sandwiches when he said:

“Enrico, I saw him.”

He must have spotted the trace of alarm in my face for he immediately shook his head and added:

“Just to talk to. I went to the restaurant on Wednesday. I learnt something about him.”

“What?” I asked.

“First, he has a girlfriend and a young baby, a son. Second, he is Spanish, not Italian. His real name is Enrique. They call him Enrico only at work.”

“You must have had quite a good conversation with him then,” I remarked, not sure what might be to follow this revelation.

“It was quiet, only him, and one girl working the bar, very few customers. It is too far off the main street to get good… - what do you call it?”

“Footfall?” I offered.

“Yes, that,” he said.

We fell quiet for a few moments, picking at our food. We were drinking cider today, which went well with the cheese.

“I am not sure I can fuck him now,” said Fox, unexpectedly. “He is as good as married.”

I nodded, listening, not sure what I could add to any argument for or against a good fuck with a possibly married sexy Spanish waiter. Besides, I knew Fox was building up to something.

He looked me in the eyes with his intense gaze.

“Whatever we do, it has political consequences,” he began to explain. “We are homosexual. Therefore our whole life is political: every statement, every action, every breath.”

This was news to me; or, at least, I had never heard it put this way before.

“Don’t you agree?”

His head had tilted. His hair today was freshly washed and extra bouncy. I could smell the fragrance of the oils he used to condition it from the other side of the kitchen table.

“I’m not sure,” I said, “I would need to think about it.”

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By *artanhero 63Man
6 days ago

Knebworth

Great story

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By *kdwMan
6 days ago

Hull

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By *ich65Man
6 days ago

Chorley

🔥🔥💜

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By *tmguylookingMan
5 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *reyunMan
5 days ago

Perth

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By *rgeo OP   Man
5 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"Why would you even have to think about it?" he challenged. "Isn't it obvious!?"

I could feel my heart thumping. It was not the first time it had reacted like this in his presence. Usually the outcome was pleasurable. This time however I started to panic.

"It depends what you mean by..."

But he cut me off sharply and angrily:

"No, it is very clear what it means!"

I fell silent and then I realised that we were glaring at each other. I felt very keenly that I had done something terribly wrong but couldn't work out what. I had missed something fundamental about him. I was utterly lost.

Not wanting a fight, I cut and picked up a piece of the plum tart and began to eat it.

"Don't you want a plate?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"No, thanks."

A pregnant pause.

"This is delicious."

In my head even then, as I was chewing the cake, I was trying to work the politics of my action.

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By *kdwMan
5 days ago

Hull

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By *reyunMan
5 days ago

Perth

👍👍

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By *ere for you26Man
5 days ago

Camborne

I like this.

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By *tmguylookingMan
5 days ago

Chesterfield


"I like this. "

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By *rgeo OP   Man
5 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"Come here," he said, putting down his drink and standing up, holding out his hands for an embrace. "I have pissed you off and I didn't mean to."

I was grateful for the surprisingly sudden reprieve. Yet I was also aware of a hurdle to be faced. He had shaken me up. Again. Less than a minute ago I had felt the seismic possibility that our relationship could end.

"We have to sort this out today, this afternoon," he stressed, hugging me tightly.

I wanted to kiss him, go to bed with him immediately, forget everything.

"He is coming here tonight," he then explained, dropping the next bombshell.

"Enrico?" I asked, "Really?"

"Enrique, yes. He'll be here after seven o'clock."

I didn't understand. I couldn't work any of it out. Then he added:

"You are free to sleep with him here, if you want to. You can use my bed."

Now there was more confusion running round my brain. Fear, excitement, lust, anxiety, hope, shame, anger - I could not separate one emotion from all the others.

Then, without warning, anger came to the top.

"Are you trying to push me?" I demanded. "Is this some sort of test?"

He went quiet and began to tidy away the plates and dishes from our meal.

"Possibly," he said, "But it is also myself who gets tested."

"And what about him?" I asked.

"Yes, it is a test for him too."

I was beginning to see very clearly the political landscape of our three-way relationship. It all made sense now. God knows where the revelation came from or how it came about, but in a flash everything had changed. He had shown me something almost without pointing it out.

I suppose the best way to put it is that all the urgency I was feeling to get things right in my relationship with Fox had now transferred itself to my relationship with Enrique. They were not two separate issues.

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By *kdwMan
5 days ago

Hull

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By *rgeo OP   Man
5 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

“It is very easy to justify our promiscuity when we are all queer together,” said Fox. “But he is not queer in the way that you and I are queer. He is perhaps one of those men who like playing at being queer for an hour or two. Then he goes back to his girlfriend and tries to forget us. And we play along with him because it excites us so much to have a young, handsome, straight-acting guy to go to bed with.”

“But maybe he is gay,” I said, “And he’s just now working it out.”

“Maybe. But, if so, is it then all right?”

I tried to remember what he’d just said a few seconds ago.

“But you said that if we’re all queer together then it’s OK,” I suggested, hoping I’d got the gist of it.

He shook his head and looked at me darkly.

“No, Tom,” he replied. “I said it is easy to justify promiscuity. It doesn’t mean it is right.”

Even though he knew my real name, he still called me Tom and I still called him Fox. I thought of him as Fox. His whole identity for me was bound up in that word, in that name. It must have been the same for him: the name Tom bestowing upon me an identity that was peculiar to me alone when I was seen through his eyes. This was also part of the political landscape, this special scenario we had created for one another. Each fresh insight brought with it new questions and a deeper sense of uncertainty.

“So what shall we do?” I asked, feeling a desperation creeping in.

Fox laughed.

“You know very well what we’ll do,” he chuckled. “Once we are alone with Enrique, with the curtains drawn, the lights down low and a glass of wine in our belly.”

I shivered. He had conjured up an image that was both enticing and dangerous. It was a shiver of pleasure and fear combined.

“But you said you couldn’t go to bed with him and fuck him,” I protested.

“I know what I said.”

By now, we had moved into the sitting room and were next to one another on the sofa. We both had fresh glasses of cider in our hands.

“But what I say now and what I do later may be two very different things. In the end, I may not give a damn about his girlfriend and his son.”

“So you do want to fuck him!” I exclaimed.

“Of course I do, just as much as you want to fuck him.”

My anger returned. Now it came back much stronger in the unmistakable form of jealousy. However much I might want to go to bed with Enrique - or with anyone else for that matter - the thought of Fox wanting someone else was too much to bear, especially now that it came so close to becoming a reality.

There was also the anger of being seen for what one really is. For I knew that I could happily be unfaithful to Fox and not bat an eyelid nor shed a tear.

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By *reyunMan
5 days ago

Perth

This is fascinating. So very different to most of the ‘fuck him and go’ wank material on fabguys.

I love the emotional turmoil being expressed. You are describing real people and relationships. And it’s really well written. I’m looking forward to how it develops.

Thank you.

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By *tmguylookingMan
5 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *rgeo OP   Man
5 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

It now seemed that with each new step I took to gain firmer ground, my feet began to sink more or less immediately, forcing me to move. I was being faced with the whole history of my sexual self for the first time in my life. It must be the same for him, I assumed.

"I don't know why, but I'm feeling very scared," I said, taking hold of his hand.

He looked at me and smiled. One smile from those pale green eyes was enough to weaken my defences. I started to cry silently, with tears running down my cheeks.

"Good," he said. "It's working."

He didn't mean the cider, of course, though that must have contributed. He meant simply that our relationship was working, operating, acting. We were entering a new phase.

His tears came later. Now it was his job to support me, not to indulge in sentiment.

"Is it agreed then that we'll fuck him together?" he asked me, his expression turning serious.

I nodded. I smiled because at that moment it was easier than frowning. maybe I was giving in.

"Wait," he added. "Listen to what I am saying. We fuck him together. Him or anyone else we fancy in the next thirty or forty years. Do you understand? Together. Because that makes it even sexier and it makes us even stronger, yes?"

I nodded again, gradually recognising the enormity of what he was saying to me.

"Forty years?" I queried.

"At least!" he answered.

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By *reyunMan
5 days ago

Perth

🤣🤣

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By *orwichscotMan
5 days ago

Livingston

It’s going to be an interesting 40 years!

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By *ssexbearhunterMan
5 days ago

Grays

Brilliantly written.Full of tension and issues. Totally engaging.

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By *kdwMan
5 days ago

Hull

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By *tmguylookingMan
4 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *ich65Man
4 days ago

Chorley

Love this - making me reflect about past relationships 1 in particular)

🔥🔥🔥😈💜

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON


"This is fascinating. So very different to most of the ‘fuck him and go’ wank material on fabguys.

I love the emotional turmoil being expressed. You are describing real people and relationships. And it’s really well written. I’m looking forward to how it develops.

Thank you. "

Thank you, _reyun

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Needless to say, the sex that evening was incredible, the best I had ever known.

"I think perhaps we should still call him Enrico," I said, at ten minutes to seven.

"Why?"

"We are all playing a different part in this. There are no real names involved."

It somehow made it all much sexier: the Englishman, the man from Hungary and the Italian. I was 40; Fox was 25; and Enrico was 28. Three horny bodies. Three stiff rampant cocks. A blur of sensations.

Never mind that Enrique was Spanish with a girlfriend and a son. Tonight he was Enrico, the dark Italian waiter, the new lover for the entity now known as Tom Fox. We would act as one whole new being; and we would explore him together, make love to him together, fuck him together.

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By *onnyjoeMan
4 days ago

ballinasloe

Brilliant story.

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By *kdwMan
4 days ago

Hull

Great story

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By *reyunMan
4 days ago

Perth

👍👍

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By *eridian413Man
4 days ago

Rugby

Possibly prize winning.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The door bell rang at exactly seven o'clock.

"I believe this is a good sign," remarked Fox, getting up off the sofa to answer the intercom. "He is..."

I could see him searching for the right word.

"Punctual," I said.

"Oh, not prompt?" he wondered.

"No, not prompt. You were prompt in responding to the bell. But he is punctual."

As you may already have gathered, Fox's command of the English language was excellent. This was partly due to his habit of pausing before committing himself to a word about which he was not quite sure. He appreciated and, more importantly, remembered my suggestions.

Enrico entered. He was wearing a dark blue jacket and trousers, with a plain pale blue T-shirt. The colour of the shirt almost exactly matched the colour of his eyes. For this one fact alone he was adorable. In his hand, a bottle of red wine. On his face, a look that bordered between the nervous and the defiant. However, on spotting me sitting at the other side of the room, he seemed to relax and broke into a broad grin.

"I am all yours, signori," he announced.

The way he said this gave me the impression that not only was he happy to play up the Italian part but that also this was not his first time with men. I suddenly saw him as a seasoned gigolo. It made me wonder if Fox had made any mention of a payment for his services tonight. In one way, if so, it made everything simpler and also, strangely, so much sexier. For me, at least; for Fox, it might be a different tale.

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By *tmguylookingMan
4 days ago

Chesterfield

I'm loving this

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Either way, it was not going to be a difficult seduction. This much was clear by the way he sat down beside me. He spread his legs apart, touching my knee with his with a deliberately inviting pressure.

Fox had disappeared into the kitchen to open the wine and fetch some glasses. When he returned, Enrico and I were already kissing. I hadn't been able to restrain myself. I was as hard as a rock. In a way, sitting watching an old movie that afternoon with Fox had felt like a sustained period of sexual edging, knowing what was to happen later. It was all mental, of course, but now that Enrico was right next to me, I couldn't keep my hands off him. At the back of my mind I knew that getting close to Enrico was going to mean getting even closer to Fox. It was this thought that had kept me on an edge of tension.

Fox just laughed when he walked in and saw us.

"Save some for me, Tom," he chuckled.

Enrico and I joined in the laughter.

"Don't worry. Enrico has plenty for both of you," said Enrico, rubbing his hand over the prominent bulge in his trousers.

The shy little waiter from the week before had transformed into a predatory gay stereotype. Those pale blue eyes were most deceptive. It all seemed to be happening too fast.

"Look," said Fox, bringing us back to earth, "We have all night. Let's not rush. Please take a drink."

He handed us each a glass of red wine. I felt foolish, much younger than either of them, like a teenager.

"Welcome, Enrico," I said, raising my glass to his. "Please excuse my bad manners."

Our glasses clinked and we sipped the wine.

"Very nice," I murmured. "Thank you, Enrico."

Each time I said his name out loud it gave me quite a bit of a thrill. It suddenly made me self-conscious. I took a bigger sip of the wine.

Fox came and sat down next to Enrico. The waiter turned his head and kissed Fox, who responded willingly. All the time I was watching for signs of my own jealousy. So far there was only a strong sense of excitement.

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By *tmguylookingMan
4 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *kdwMan
4 days ago

Hull

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

“So what shall we do, boys?” asked Fox, taking the lead, just as I had expected him to.

“Well, let’s finish our drinks first,” I said, “Before moving to the bedroom.”

Fox turned to Enrico and asked him outright:

“What role do you take in bed with men?”

Enrico looked up at the ceiling. I could tell from his face that he was working out a fancy answer. Fox looked at me and winked.

“Tom and I, we are both versatile in bed,” explained Fox, putting his hand on Enrico’s leg. “What about you?”

Enrico looked at me first then at Fox.

“Signori, they say I fuck like a rabbit,” he said.

I wondered just how many signori had been so well treated. Or mistreated, perhaps, judging from the apparent size of him. For someone who was only about five feet six inches tall, the thing that nestled in his pants was definitely not in proportion to the rest of his body.

“And would the rabbit permit a fox to fuck him?” I asked brazenly.

Enrico smiled. His teeth were beautifully even.

“Perhaps,” he said, “But it has not happened very often.”

Fox intervened.

“We would like to try everything we possibly can,” he said, “If you are up for it.”

Enrico looked down at his feet.

“I would do it for money,” he said, glancing from one to the other of us, his face reddening. “Fifty pounds?”

Was this fifty pounds on top of an already agreed amount? I looked at Fox. He was frowning.

“No,” he said, “No money.”

“Okay,” muttered Enrico, looking embarrassed. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

There was tremendous tension now between the three of us. The success of the evening was on a knife’s edge.

“Most men pay me,” he confessed.

For a while he looked quite crestfallen.

“And they pay me well. Usually I get a hundred and fifty.”

Fox was fully alert and attentive now, perched on the edge of the sofa, turning round to look at both of us. Enrico was still laying back into the soft cushions. I had crept further forward.

“We are not going to pay you, Enrico,” he said. “The question is whether you want to get fucked tonight or not.”

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Rather nervously, Enrico rubbed his face with his hand. He squeezed his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Then he let his hand drop to his lap.

"Okay," he nodded, "Lots of fucking tonight. I am happy."

We all three sat back in silence and finished off the wine in our glasses. It struck me that on our first encounter with Enrico at the restaurant we had not even left a tip after our lunch. I was starting to feel sorry for him.

At the same time, I was impressed with Fox for his forthright honesty. The more I was seeing of his character, the deeper I was falling in love with him. It was impossible not to.

Fox had lit candles in the bedroom, at least half a dozen of them dotted around the room. We had all removed our clothing except for underwear and T-shirts.

Fox had already introduced me to the pleasures of being touched through layers of clothing. We both found it far more satisfying to be caressed and licked through cotton before getting naked. Instinctively, we wanted to show Enrico the same delights. He had been ready to undress completely but we both told him to wait. With a smile, he complied.

As he stood before me, I ran my hands over his chest and down his arms, while Fox stood behind him and kissed his neck, pushing his fingers through his curly black hair. Enrico murmured, his eyes closed. He stretched out his arms and the two of us massaged them together, kneading the thick muscles of his upper arms, stroking his forearms and then rubbing his hands and fingers.

As I kissed him, the taste of red wine filled my mouth anew. His lips were soft and warm. I was waiting to look into his eyes, though they remained shut. Fox had his body pressed close behind. Occasionally, over Enrico's shoulder we would look at one another.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
4 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON


"Possibly prize winning. "

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By *kdwMan
4 days ago

Hull

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By *ich65Man
3 days ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *tmguylookingMan
3 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *orwichscotMan
3 days ago

Livingston

Jeez mate this is off the scale horny!!

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By *reyunMan
3 days ago

Perth

This just gets better and better.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
3 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Fox and I didn't need to close our eyes when we had sex. We were still hungry for the sight of one another. This would probably change over time, as all things change, but for now we only wanted to consume as much of each other as we could with all our senses engaged.

Therefore I sensed a certain reserve about Enrico, with his eyes shut, an unwillingness to submit fully to the queerness of what was happening to him. Probably at this moment he was enjoying the experience as an anonymous sexual interaction; it could be anyone, male or female, touching him. Even my lips could pass as feminine because I was always clean shaven. Fox, however, with his beard and moustache would pose a different problem for him. I was waiting with interest to see what would happen.

I knelt down and nuzzled into the sweet tangy fragrance of Enrico's cotton trunks. With my tongue I followed the contours of him, from tip to balls and back again. He purred like a kitten. I resisted the urge to expose him, to suck him. Instead I resorted to nibbling at it gently.

By now, Fox had also dropped to his knees and was pulling at the soft fabric with his teeth, stretching it and letting it snap back. We peeped round Enrico's hips and stared at one another. Words came to me, but I saved them for later.

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By *kdwMan
3 days ago

Hull

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By *tmguylookingMan
3 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *reyunMan
3 days ago

Perth

😈👿

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON


"Jeez mate this is off the scale horny!!"

Thank you!

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

It is impossible to recall the exact sequence of events from this evening we spent with Enrico. Even at the time, it was so intense and sensual that many of the experiences we shared together must have bypassed the cerebral cortex and failed to land coherently in my memory. It was not a time for thinking but for surrendering to a power far greater than thought.

I know that Fox and I both took turns to fuck the fellow, and that he fucked me. He was bigger even than Fox and it hurt a lot to begin with. But once the initial sharpness had passed, he proved to be quite a gentle and considerate lover. I liked the way he leant over me and kissed my neck and licked around my ears. Fox was behind him at one point, and eventually, for a while, the three of us were joined together. He came inside me and we had to rest after that.

But, later, he became aroused again, and although there was no more fucking, there were plenty of other things going on. I had expected him to get up and leave, but it was not like that. I think by now he felt relaxed with us and wanted to explore with us some more. It was then that Fox began to kiss him and I was fascinated by the response. Enrico seemed to get even harder and more passionate. There was one moment where he opened his eyes and looked directly at both of us.

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By *tmguylookingMan
2 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"I like you guys," he said.

Something about this remark sounded more serious than mere sexual banter.

"We like you too," said Fox, speaking for both of us.

Enrico smiled warmly. By now we were all cuddled up under the bedsheets, postprandial raptures all round. We had sampled as much of each other as we could.

"I shall remember this," he said, "Very often."

I suspected right then that his recollections of this evening would come during his lovemaking with his girlfriend, making him even harder inside her as he remembered my willing body and Fox's rough kisses.

"You are welcome here any weekend," said Fox, "Any Saturday evening."

I appreciated the emphasis. It marked a distinction from the rest of the week when Fox might be alone. It made of Enrico someone to be shared, which was exactly as I had understood it from the start.

"Next time, Enrico," I said, even then getting a twinge in my cock as I spoke his name, "I would like to fuck you. I would like to fuck both of you."

It was half past ten. Enrico was supposed to be leaving soon. His motorbike was parked somewhere nearby. He had a thirty minute drive home.

"Why not stay the night?" offered Fox again. We had already tried to persuade him to. But we were all aware that his girlfriend was waiting for him.

"Thanks, signori, but no. I must get home soon."

He stretched himself out in the bed, his hands touching both our bodies.

"I want to stay and get fucked again," he added, "But waiting for next time will be worth it, no?"

Fox and I kissed him. Our three lips met. Not for the first or the last time.

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By *tmguylookingMan
2 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *reyunMan
2 days ago

Perth

😄😈

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By *kdwMan
2 days ago

Hull

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

The day after, on Sunday morning, Fox and I went for a walk along the river and talked freely about what had happened with Enrico. We were not talking about it in order to resurrect our erotic feelings for him or for each other. We were instead checking in with one another that everything between us was not just alright but moving in the same direction.

It was raining, but not enough to require umbrellas. Fine droplets of water had begun to collect on our heads and coats and, as we walked beside the riverbank, Fox’s hair sparkled as the sky brightened and the sun came out. We gained extra shelter under the huge trees that lined the path, their branches heavy with fresh green leaves. Holding hands for most of the way, we finally turned towards the centre of town. The river path had traced almost a circle around the town and we had ended up not far from where we had begun our morning in a quiet cafe, eating toasted cheese sandwiches with strong cups of coffee.

“This spot always reminds me of Budapest,” said Fox, as we climbed up one of the oldest and steepest streets. “We shall go there soon to visit my family.”

This simple throwaway comment meant so much to me. It was the kind of thing one would look back on in years to come and marvel at the terrific significance of it. I always wondered why I hadn’t said something, done something, shown something in reaction to it, but the fact is I remained silent and we continued walking. At the time, it felt right, natural, nothing to make a fuss about, just like our holding hands in public. It seemed to bother no-one so it made sense not to be bothered when he talked of taking me to meet his family.

“Enrico wouldn’t do this,” I said, as I once again took his hand in mine.

We had crossed over a busy road to get to the main high street. Being a Sunday, it was much quieter than usual. Most of the shops remained closed until after ten o’clock. Some of them were just starting to open up.

“He is not as we are,” said Fox, solemnly, “And you should always remember that. He is the kind of man it is very dangerous to fall in love with.”

I smiled. Fox was an expert at reading my mind, and at seeing right through me.

“I’ve kind of worked that out already,” I said. “But I am very fond of him. Aren’t you?”

“Of course!”

He spoke those words with such loud conviction that a couple of people walking in front of us turned around to look at him.

“He is a beautiful man,” he continued, lowering his voice. “He may even be also a beautiful soul, but that is much too early to say. A man’s cock is no indicator of his moral integrity.”

I was working this out for myself when Fox suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into the doorway of a shop that luckily remained closed all day Sunday. It went back about ten feet before the door itself, allowing shelter from the rain but also privacy.

“You are a beautiful soul,” he said, so earnestly that I couldn’t help but believe it myself.

He placed his hands on my cheeks and kissed me. His hands were cold and damp; his lips were warm and dry.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

[Removed by poster at 31/01/26 19:10:54]

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By *rgeo OP   Man
2 days ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"If he's dangerous, why are you encouraging him?" I asked.

We were back on the high street, walking down the hill, slowly heading towards his flat.

"It's foolish to run away from danger. It has to be faced. And, anyway, it is not him who is the danger. The danger is all inside you."

"Me?"

"You or me," he said. "Whoever falls in love with him first."

He uttered these words with such conviction that it now seemed inevitable that such a thing would happen.

We turned a corner to head back towards the river. Soon we'd be crossing the bridge that brought us almost directly to his front door.

"What if I fall for you instead?"

I had spoken the question without thinking about it. It was as though he had led me to it. Our whole walk was really about this.

"Don't worry," he reassured me, once more taking hold of my hand as we walked along. "I am here to catch you."

Two young men were walking towards us. They noticed our hands. One of them walked past without any change in his expression; the other glared at us angrily.

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By *tmguylookingMan
2 days ago

Chesterfield

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By *kdwMan
2 days ago

Hull

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By *ature bottom for funMan
2 days ago

Cumbernauld

Just read this through from the start. Fantastic story. Very well written. Full of compassion and feelings. Looking forward to more!

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By *ich65Man
1 day ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥💜😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON


"Just read this through from the start. Fantastic story. Very well written. Full of compassion and feelings. Looking forward to more!"

Thank you, Bill

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By *reyunMan
1 day ago

Perth

This story continues to be so good. So well written And it evoked so many memories. So much emotion. So much truth. Thank you.

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By *sfun2019Man
1 day ago

Dub North City Ireland

Love your writing, please continue.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

Fox stopped and looked back at them. The men had continued on their journey into town without looking back at us and were now halfway across the bridge.

“Barom!” he shouted.

The man who had glared at us looked back at Fox while his friend walked on unheeding. He raised his middle finger.

“That little shit lives two floors down from me,” he said.

“Is that his name, Barom?” I asked.

Fox laughed.

“I wish it was. It would make good sense.”

Apparently, it was an insult. The other man was also Hungarian. He would have heard Fox calling him a fool, an idiot, a moron. Later, before I left for home, he shared a few more choice phrases with me. I tried to remember a couple of them but always remembered ‘Barom!’

“You know why he’s angry, don’t you?” he asked me, as we entered the flat.

“Yes, because we were holding hands,” I said.

“No,” said Fox. “It has nothing to do with what we were doing. It’s what he’s been doing that makes him angry. He’s like Enrico. He has a girlfriend but he wants men.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I know,” said Fox. “I know!” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can read it in him.”

After lunch we watched another old movie and then went to bed for a couple of hours. Fox lay on top of me and rubbed his hard dick into my belly. We kissed for ages and eventually he climaxed while looking deep into my eyes. Then he rolled over and pulled me off, using his own spunk as lubricant for my cock. We were both warm and sweaty from our morning walk and yet we didn’t mind. The slightly dirty smell of each other added an extra dimension to our lovemaking. He used a towel to clean us off and then we rested for half an hour, curled up close, listening to one another’s breathing.

Later, we showered separately, dressed, and then he walked with me to catch my train home. The high street was deserted now, save for a few local stragglers. One wondered where they might be going at this time of night. It was too early for the pubs' closing time.

By the time we reached the station, it was dark and cold. He waited with me on the platform until my train came in. It was almost empty. I kissed him, boarded, found a seat and waved to him through the window as it pulled away. The second he was out of sight I began to cry, missing him already.

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By *reyunMan
1 day ago

Perth

This is such a beautiful love story. This last episode had me almost in tears as well when the train set off. Great writing. Thanks.

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By *tmguylookingMan
1 day ago

Chesterfield

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

I had a week’s holiday coming up at the end of May and had deliberately neglected to tell Fox about it, not wishing to place any pressure on him. But when I arrived at his flat the following Friday evening, it was one of the first things we talked about. He had already worked it out from the information he had about my job.

“Half-term soon,” he said, as we sat eating our supper, which was all prepared.

His eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Have you made any plans?”

I shook my head and told him that I hadn’t.

“You are welcome to stay here for the week,” he said, adding, “If you want to,” when I seemed to hesitate.

Of course I wanted to. I wanted to stay close to him forever. But I couldn’t speak. So I changed the subject.

“I’ve brought back your books,” I began to say, reaching into the carrier bag I had with me.

The three books he had lent me I had read in fairly swift succession. I had enjoyed them all, especially the one by an English author with whom I was entirely unfamiliar. Her themes of madness, murder and obsession (with frequent shots of black humour) appealed to my dark side.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I took a deep breath.

“What question?” I said.

“About staying here over half-term.”

I nodded vigorously, indicating my acceptance of his offer, but still I couldn’t speak. I could feel the tears welling up. I knew I was about to make a fool of myself, a right ‘Barom!’ indeed.

“Yes, please,” I managed to burst out, and then began to sob uncontrollably.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

He stood up and came over to me, taking the three paperbacks out of my hand.

“We don’t want these getting wet,” he said, and he put them on his side of the table.

Then he informed me very quietly and calmly that Enrico was due to call at seven o’clock.

“But there is still time to call him and cancel,” he said. “He won’t have set off from home yet.”

In the midst of my emotional outburst I realised that the main reason I had burst into tears was to find out how he would react. Seeing this, it immediately settled me. Because I could clearly see that I was being manipulative, I now didn’t want anything to do with it. I cleared my throat and said:

“Sorry, Fox, I wasn’t expecting…”

But before I could finish he spoke over me:

“Nah!” he grunted. “Don’t be sorry. It is what it is.”

Then he knelt down beside me, took both my hands in his and looked at me enquiringly. I almost started crying all over again, but held it back.

“What about Enrico?” he asked. “That’s the first thing.”

It had crossed my mind several times during the week that Enrico might be part of our weekend. Part of me was annoyed; part of me was excited. But the part of me that was annoyed was also because of the excitement. I was annoyed with myself for lusting after another man when I already had the most beautiful man of all time in my life. Frankly, I had assumed that Enrico, if he turned up at all, would be making his appearance on the Saturday evening, not tonight.

“He’s not working?” I queried.

“He’s swapped shifts, doing extra time tomorrow for a big private party,” explained Fox.

“Oh!” I said, “OK. It will be nice to see him.”

“Are you sure? It will make it difficult for us to talk about why you are upset.”

I cleared my throat again and thanked him, saying that we had the rest of the weekend for that.

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

“And there is someone else due to join us,” he said. “Bence.”

“Who’s Bence?” I asked, with a puzzled look on my face. It was the first time I had heard such a name.

Fox smiled, made a funny noise in his throat and puffed out his cheeks. Then he rolled his eyes and looked at me, watching carefully for how I might react:

“It is a Hungarian name which means conqueror,” he said. “You might know him better as Barom.”

My mouth fell open, probably. It was a long time ago. If it didn’t fall open at such news, it should have.

“The man on the bridge?” I asked. “Him?”

Fox was pulling a variety of different expressions. I had never seen him so agitated.

“I can run down now and cancel him,” he said. “He’s also due at seven o’clock.”

I checked my watch again. It was a quarter past six.

“Why?” I demanded. “Doesn’t he hate you?”

“Maybe,” said Fox. “But he hates himself more.”

“But why is he coming up here tonight?”

Fox explained that he had bumped into the man now known as Bence a couple of times in the week. The first time they had met was on the stairs: Fox was coming down, Bence was going up. Fox had blocked his way and stared him out. They had then had a very long conversation in Hungarian. A few days later, they had bumped into one another again, this time in the middle of town, where they had spent more time together, with less friction and several cups of coffee, but it was another long conversation. Something must have happened to change the relationship, though Fox gave me no other clues.

“Maybe,” said Fox, “We push them both into the bedroom while we nip out for a film.”

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By *kdwMan
1 day ago

Hull

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By *tmguylookingMan
1 day ago

Chesterfield

This really is a great story

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By *reyunMan
1 day ago

Perth

🤣🤣

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 day ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

From what I learned in the next few minutes, Berce lived downstairs in a flat on the second floor with his girlfriend, Ella. She may even have been the woman who answered the intercom to me when I first was looking for Fox all those weeks ago. Certainly, they were both English, but whether it was the same woman or not will never be known.

My only concern now, this evening, was the safety of the people engaged in such a surprising enterprise. From what I remembered of Berce, he was a tall lanky lad, smooth shaven, with medium length light brown hair, neither good nor bad looking. Apparently, he was about twenty; his girlfriend was much older.

“So are you sure?” he asked again. “I am happy to cancel.”

Actually, I was glad of the distraction, away from my own feelings.

“Does Enrico know about Berce?” I asked.

“Berce knows about Enrico and you. Enrico knows nothing about Berce. And Berce may not come anyway, remember. I am expecting him to cry off.”

Most likely, the girlfriend, Ella, had been told by Berce that he was going for a drink with the Hungarian upstairs, for a chance to speak their language all evening. She would not be suspecting that the men there would be more interested in the international language of love.

“You surprised me when you mentioned half-term,” I told him quickly. “Thank you for asking me. It means a lot to me.”

I wanted to clear the air tonight and not have to revisit it tomorrow, especially with what was in store for us all tonight.

“I know, bogyó,” he replied, using my pet name for the first time. He saw me as his little berry. “We shall be alright, you and me.”

“How do you know?” I asked, frowning.

He went quiet.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

He looked at me and pursed his lips.

“And you know too,” he added. “But you don’t want to believe it yet.”

He looked at his watch.

“Twenty to seven,” he said. “We’d better get ready. Are you having a shower?”

I went off to shower while he tidied away the supper things. Afterwards, we swapped over and I started to dry the dishes, listening for the door bell. He’d just emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist when the bell rang. I went to answer it. Enrico’s cheerful greeting sounded out and I pressed the button to admit him into the building.

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By *reyunMan
23 hours ago

Perth

This could be fun or ?

Please keep going.

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By *tmguylookingMan
23 hours ago

Chesterfield

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By *kdwMan
22 hours ago

Hull

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By *ich65Man
19 hours ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
7 hours ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

"We may have an extra guest tonight, Enrico," I said, taking the bottle off him and placing it on the windowsill. "He lives downstairs. His name is Berce."

Enrico's smile implied that he was happy with the surprise, probably based on the principle of the more the merrier.

Fox came back from the bedroom having dressed for the evening. He greeted Enrico with a kiss and thanked him for the wine. It was another bottle of Italian red, the same as the weekend before, a rich Amarone. He went through to the kitchen to fetch some glasses. Because there were going to be four of us, he had prepared some snacks earlier. He brought everything through on a tray and set it down on the large wooden coffee table in front of the sofa.

There was a quiet knock on the door. Fox and I looked at one another. Berce had arrived.

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By *reyunMan
3 hours ago

Perth

😄😄

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By *ich65Man
3 hours ago

Chorley

🔥🔥🔥😈

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By *rgeo OP   Man
1 hour ago

WOLVERHAMPTON

After a few words in Hungarian, Fox showed Berce into where we were sitting. We had arranged the living room so that we could sit around the small wooden table where the snacks and drinks were laid out. Enrico was sitting on the sofa; I had taken a light-blue easy chair which we had moved in from the bedroom. There was plenty of room left for Fox and Berce on the sofa. However, once Fox had introduced us to one another, he asked me to swap places so that he could sit on the chair. I ended up sitting next to Berce, who was now in the middle of Enrico and me.

Berce had shaken hands with both of us and had maintained eye contact while doing so, which seemed like a good start. He was a very different person from the lad I had walked past just a few days ago. He was all in black, except for his trainers which had white stripes along them. In profile, he had quite an arresting face, much better looking than I remembered. His eyes were dark brown, much darker even than Enrico’s. He was definitely the tallest out of all of us, at just over six feet.

We all began to taste the wine, which was delicious, and Fox was handing round the plate of food. He had baked some small cheese pastries, and thin cheese crackers with a paprika coloured dip. Berce said something complimentary in Hungarian on sampling the pastry. He was perched on the edge of the sofa while Enrico and I both lay back. I was close enough to smell the cologne he had obviously sprayed on his face before coming upstairs to join us.

“I don’t know about you,” said Fox, “But I want to live deliberately.”

He looked at us each in turn, starting with Enrico and ending with me.

“Berce and I have already talked about this. I think he understands what I mean now,” he added.

He looked at Berce, who nodded, without smiling, his face serious and earnest.

“Yes,” agreed Berce, “We have spoken about this.”

Berce’s accent was much stronger than Fox’s, who at times could easily pass for a native Briton. It was obvious that Berce had only been in the country a short while. Though his vocabulary was good, his whole delivery was more guttural.

“Nobody lives deliberately, especially in England,” continued Fox, “Because it is very difficult to do. One has to stop living through habits and instincts. One has to stop being a machine.”

He checked that we were all listening and following his words by scanning our faces for signs of puzzlement as he spoke.

“So I have always had sex deliberately,” he said. “It has never been a problem for me, any of it.”

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By *tmguylookingMan
33 minutes ago

Chesterfield

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