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  • 2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 02

2,4,6,8 Never Too Late Ch. 02

When I wrote about me appraising men for their sexual potential at the start of the first chapter of this story I didn't really flesh my feelings out enough. I once had a girlfriend who said that she'd like to squeeze the packets of all the men she met as a sort of hello. Just to get the formalities out of the way. I now knew how she felt. All men were targets for my mainly weary appraisals of their fuckability now that I'd got my homo-mojo working. I noticed everything. Hands held a fascination that morning as a waiter brought me my breakfast; veiny and pallid back of hand with thick digits and a rather clumsy look about them. I'd dismissed him as a possible sex partner before he'd even asked me for my order. By contrast he was undoubtedly interested in me. As I said before, men seem to like me. I could almost read his mind: single man in double room, small retrousse nose, strawberry blond, dainty feminine mouth. He wanted me, that much was clear when he offered to help me with anything at all and gave me a conspiratorial smile and wink. All I thought when I thanked him for his kindness was that he didn't have a hope. I'd become a snob about men before I'd even had one. I wanted an Alpha male, a complete contrast to myself. When I kneeled and bent doggy with my bum turned to the mirror and pucker exposed I was imagining someone else. Someone like Barry Leigh. Or to be precise, Barry Leigh.

Having got some colour on my pale skin the day before I decided to top-up a bit more in the early-morning sun down on the beach before the heat really hit its heights. As I walked past the surf shop the three tanned surf dudes from the day before were setting out their stall, putting up the surf-school signs and stacking the boards that were for rent. There was a wolf-whistle from one of them and stifled giggles from all. I turned and raised my eyebrows knowing they all knew about my aborted pick-up of the gorgeous curly-haired one the day before. I was completely comfortable with their gentle piss-taking and walked on. It was a fantastic sunny morning and I played in the surf a bit before swimming out to some rocks below a short cliff. I rested there and managed to find a comfortable position to lie back and close my eyes to enjoy the rays. Before long I was daydreaming about cock. I'd had enough sun after about twenty minutes there and swam back.

By the time I'd walked back up the sun was beginning to burn and I so found a seat in the same shadowed position as the day before on the terrace of the café. I ignored the surf dude instructors and concentrated instead on their clientele that consisted of a group of fit young women who were stretching themselves into thin wetsuits. Since making a decision to concentrate on my desire for men I had thought a great deal about how to attract them. The girls doing surf school were all completely conscious of how they might look in each pose. It was a great game. Watching them. I like pussy and I love women. Just looking at them, all shy and not shy, blushing and jiggling, ignoring the men they know are watching them. Lovely. But I've got different priorities. Prancing about sticking my arse out wouldn't work for me in this new world I had begun to inhabit. I ordered a bottle of white wine and some whitebait, and went on a short walk to the newsagent to buy some cigarettes.

When I got back there was someone sitting at my table. Eating my whitebait and drinking my wine. I looked around confused wondering whether I had made a mistake, but I hadn't. Bold as brass the interloper looked at me and said, 'It's alright, I don't bite.'

He had a full head of curly black hair flecked with grey and a matt of chest hair to match. Nice toned arms and thick masculine wrists -- that's all I could see or took in in those few moments.

'My nephew told me about you,' he said nodding towards the surf school. I sat down opposite him transfixed and utterly smooched by his looks. The same roman nose and fulsome lips as the gorgeous surfer dude but older and somehow better. He poured me a glass of wine. As he did so I reached across and touched his smooth brown fingers which were gripping the wine bottle. The drops from the outside of the cold bottle had made them wet. This was coming from a place in my head I didn't know existed. I didn't say a word. I lit a cigarette and looked away.

'I'm Mark,' he said. 'My nephew rang me late last night.'

I remained silent. We finished a bottle of wine like that. Not saying anything. I did move my chair to be closer to him. I did hold his wrist tightly as I moved back a bit to show him the lump in my trunks. I did nuzzle my nose against his arm as he squeezed my leg. I did run a hand over his hairy belly underneath the table and rub the bulge in his chinos. I did take him by the hand and lead him away from the café as his nephew and friends studiously ignored us. Up the hill and into the Hotel we went. Words missing.

I definitely made the first move when we got into my room. There's no way my actions could be described in another way. I unbuttoned his chinos and pushed them and his undies down and over his big cock which sprung up all flared and angry-looking. I caressed his balls as I slipped a condom on him. It was a tight fit but he still looked great. He kicked off his own shoes and got rid of his ankle-pants in short order as I was getting my out of my trunks. I grabbed the lube tube and squirted some in my hand before giving his cock a good lathering. As I did so he grabbed my face quite roughly and snogged me. That's when I talked. As he deep-kissed me and our tongues twirled I was more interested in the prospect of having a big cock up me than anything else. I pulled away from him and more or less commanded him, 'Fuck me!'

I moved over to the bed and knelt in the middle of it before leaning my head forward into the pillows. I reached back and slicked my arse with the remains of the lube on my hands and stuck up myself for the taking. I was as hard as I have ever been.

'Fuck me Mark!' I said. Unceremoniously and without a hint of hesitation he climbed on the bed behind me and started rubbing his cock up and down my crack. I could feel his balls bump against me at the end of each stroke, which was nice, but did not feed my primal hunger enough. I fed my hand underneath and groped his fat shaft in the direction of my hot and very hungry hole. I backed up over his cock and I sunk it in in one fell swoop. I bucked on him like a real sissy boy. I told him not to move and he didn't. He held my hips and urged me back onto him as I convulsed and clenched but he did not thrust. My cock was leaking. All I had to do was touch it, which I did and a few frantic moments later I came in an uncontrolled splashing flood. He'd only been in me for a minute or so. I pushed myself back onto him again before letting him out. I'd been fucked.

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