Luckily I can :-). Going into the chat rooms, I spot several guys who look attractive and who are not too far away from me either. But before I can start chatting to any of them, another guy starts chatting to me:
guy: hi, busy?
GB: errr no m8, just logged in :-)
guy: so got any plans for this pm?
We chat for a while, and it seems that this guy does have a plan for the afternoon. His plan is to first have a bit of fun with another guy while his flatmate is out, and then go to the gym.
GB: good plan m8!
guy: perhaps u cud help me with my plan, got any face pix?
GB: LOL, sure, hang on, u got any :-)
We exchange pics and soon it's all arranged. Unfortunately it's still raining outside, so I grab my umbrella and head off. It turns out to be my lucky day, because in spite of the rain, I manage to hail a taxi. I send the guy a txt msg to let him know that I'm on my way, and soon we're driving up the road where he lives.
The house where he lives turns out to be a block of flats on a council estate, so once the cabbie has dropped me off, I phone the guy to find out what his flat number is.
"Hi this is GB," I start, "I'm outside getting wet! What number are you?"
"Great, let me come out and see if I can see you," he replies with a Geordie accent, "I'm on the third floor."I look round and sure enough there's a guy waving at me from the third floor, so I make my way up. He's smiling at me from his door as I approach.
"Come in," he says, "nasty weather eh! Here, let me take yer coat."
"Thanks, that's great :-)," I reply, "so where do you want me?"
Face to face he looks exactly like the pics on his profile. He's in his late 20's, with pale skin and slightly ginger hair, so as usual I wonder what colour he is downstairs. Noticing a pile of shoes by the door, together with the fact that the guy is barefoot, I decide that the polite thing to do would be to leave my shoes at the door too.
"Just come into the main room when you're ready," he says smiling.
Having taken my shoes and socks off, I decide to take my shirt and trousers off too. As I join him in the main room, he switches off the sport that he'd been watching on television, and turns to me and smiles.
"You don't waste any time do you mate?" he says approvingly, looking me up and down.
Sitting down on the sofa next to him, I kiss him gently on the lips, before helping him off with the t-shirt that he's wearing. Gradually we get more involved with each other, and soon we're taking our trousers off too. Reaching down, I feel him through his undershorts. He's a big lad!
"Mmmmmm, that feels good mate :-)," he moans, "OK, let me get me kecks off!"[ kecks (or kegs, or perhaps even kex): now there's an interesting word! I've only ever heard it used by guys from northern England and Scotland. Given the context that I've heard it used in, I reckon it's always meant a guy's undershorts. But kecks is defined as trousers on urbandictionary.com, although their definition of kegs is a bit closer to the mark. So I actually tried to update urbandictionary.com. These days new entries need the approval of an editor, although anyone can be an editor! But the annoying this is that my new definition of kecks keeps getting 'cancelled' for some reason before an editor gets a chance to review it! If anyone can explain to me what's going on I'd be very grateful. ]
And as expected, he's ginger downstairs, and we have a lovely time together.
"Does your flatmate know you're gay?" I ask afterwards.
"Errr yes mate, just a bit, actually he's my ex-boyfriend!"
"Oh really? Isn't that a bit difficult?"
"It works out OK actually," he replies, "we were always good mates :-)."
Following through with his plan, we chat a bit more while he gradually gets ready to go to the gym.
"So what line of work are you in," I ask, as I'm putting my undershorts back on.
"I'm a dancer, working in a show in the West End at the moment actually."
"That's interesting," I reply, "so are most most male dancers gay?"
"Well yeah," he says grinning, "there's no two ways about it. Yeah!"
Outside it's still raining. We leave his flat together, and for a short distance I shelter him under my umbrella because he hasn't bothered to bring one of his own. Soon we reach the road, and he points me in the direction of the best bus stop to get me back home. Sometimes when there aren't any taxis around I'll use buses, although I do prefer taxis.
"Thanks for coming over," he says as he heads off in the other direction, "see you online :-)."
As I wander off in search of a taxi, I think about the male dancers that I've known. I met one young dancer for a bit of fun before work back in 2005, and then there's also Frozen Flame, although I never met him of course. There must be some straight male dancers out there, but I guess I just haven't met any of them!
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1 comment:
Love your work mate! Keep it up! :-)
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