A spot of exhibitionism in Deptford

Last week, while I was arranging to meet the guy in his Covent Garden office (A visit to a guy in his office during office hours) I was also chatting to a young guy from Deptford who wanted me to visit him for a bit of fun early on Tuesday morning. We exchange mobile phone numbers and it’s agreed that I will send him a txt msg when I get up on Tuesday morning to arrange the details.

But on Tuesday morning when I turn my mobile phone on there is a txt msg from him waiting for me:

sry m8 cant meet this am but mite be poss 2moz

Ah well, at least he seems reliable in his communications. Later in the day we exchange txt msgs and agree to try again on Wednesday morning.

I send him a txt msg early on Wednesday morning and get a response quite quickly:

pls cum and visit

I thought I was going to visit and cum rather than the other way round, but I guess his txt msg is clear enough. Although I don’t have his address, given that he’s been reliable in his communications I feel happy enough going to Deptford and phoning him for directions when I arrive at the railway station.

Everything goes according to plan. He meets me at a petrol station, just five minutes walk from the railway station, from where it’s just one minute’s walk to his basement flat. When we were chatting on Monday he had sent me a cute picture of him sucking another guy’s cock. Face to face he looks much nerdier than his picture suggested, but he seems a friendly enough guy.

His apartment consists of a small front room, with tiny kitchen and bathroom attached, and a slightly larger back room where there’s a bed. It’s all quite dirty and untidy.

“Where are we going to do it?” I ask.

“Let’s go into the back room. I want to watch you wank.”

Fair enough, I do have an exhibitionist streak in me (My chance to be a rent boy). While I’m stripping off, I notice that he’s wanking himself through the left pocket of his trousers. Soon I’m just standing there in my undershorts. I’m just about to take them off when he comes over and feels me through the outside of my underwear. I take the opportunity to try and remove his shirt, but once I’ve undone all the buttons he prevents me from taking it off.

“I just want to watch you wank”, he says, backing off a bit, still playing with himself.

Gradually I get into the situation. Soon he lets his trousers drop to the floor and drops his undershorts slightly too to make it easier for him to play with himself. Suddenly I’ve got a question for him, “Shall I just cum on the carpet?”

“No hang on”, he says, and pulling up his trousers slightly he rushes to grab a towel which he places on the floor between us. Unfortunately I fail to aim very well and I mostly miss the towel. His aim is much better than mine.

“Sorry”, I say looking sheepish, “but I’m sure it will wash out.”

Afterwards I try to chat to him a bit but he’s very cagey. For some reason he doesn’t seem comfortable talking to me.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask.

“Errr, yes”. Pregnant pause.

“So do I, we’ve been together since 1989”. Pregnant pause.

So I try again, “Have you got much to do today?”

It turns out that he doesn’t have a job at the moment, but he’s studying French for some reason.

After a glass of water I make my excuses and leave. It’s been fun, even though he wasn't quite what I had expected.