A visit to a lovely Irish guy in Soho

It’s last Sunday morning on gaydar and I’ve found this gorgeous looking Irish hunk called C who’s feeling horny in his hotel room in Soho. To arrange a meeting all I need to do now is get his address, and hopefully his mobile phone number too in case I can’t find him. I send him an online gaydar message:

My mobile phone number is xxxxx-xxxxxx, can you send me a txt msg with your exact address?

But suddenly my mobile rings

“Hi is that GB, this is C”.

HELP! I’m sunk!! Why did he phone and not txt? If boyfriend number 1 doesn’t actually hear the conversation he must have heard my phone ring, so he’s bound to ask me who was phoning me :-(

“Errr, yes”, I say very quietly, “ahhh, just got your online reply with the hotel address.”

I try to sound natural but my mind is racing. I’ve got to get off the phone and not appear like a weirdo who can’t cope with verbal communication.

“Great, I’ll be with you in about 30 minutes OK?”. I pause ever so briefly. “See you soon, bye.”

“One thing”, he says. Damm - what now?? “Can you wear sports kit and trainers like I saw in the photos you sent me?”

“Errr, sure, no problem. Right see you soon mate, I’ll phone if there’s a problem.” And I hang up.

No sound from boyfriend number 1. When I go and investigate it turns out that he’s in the bathroom with the door closed and the radio on. Phewww, he can’t have heard me. The God of Infidelity must be looking after me today! I change into my gym kit and head off, telling boyfriend number 1 that I’m going for a workout.

We’ve agreed that he’ll meet me just outside the hotel, so when I arrive I send him a txt msg

I’m outside wearing by black gym shorts

I get a reply very quickly

2 mins tops.

but it must be 5 minutes before he actually shows up.

“Sorry”, he says smiling at me, “suddenly everyone wanted to talk to me online”.

He’s got a lovely Irish accent. I love Irish guys. He’s got a cute face although he could probably do with losing a bit of weight. More chunky than hunky, but he's got a cute winning smile. Although he seems a bit nervous, he relaxes a bit once we reach his room.

“Do you meet many guys like this?” I ask him once we’re inside.

“Not really, maybe one or two a year over the last 5 years or so”. He smiles. "I just tell it like it is mate". Wow, he's got a very heterosexual way of behaving which I find hugely attractive.

But what we're about to do is definitely not heterosexual! We strip down to shorts and underwear and get started. While we’re kissing, I notice that he’s trying to empty his lungs into mine, which feels very uncomfortable.

“Just relax”, he says, “It’s called the Breath Exchange Kiss”.

I must have led a sheltered life, why haven’t I done this before? Is this something more popular with heterosexuals?

We don't rush and have a very nice time.

Afterwards I can’t help myself thinking about all the different ways that cum comes out of an ejaculating cock. Some cocks just ooze cum, some spurt in gushes, but this guy had just produced a huge number of tiny cum droplets which sprayed themselves over a wide area. Great fun, as long as one doesn’t have to clean them up!

“Do you like cuddling?” I ask.

“Err yes, I guess so”.

Perhaps he expected me to go, but I always enjoy a bit of a cuddle in these situations. It’s usually a chance to find out something about the other guy.

While we're cuddling, he tells me that he works in Aberdeen, and occasionally stops off in London on his way home to County Mayo in Ireland.

“You must work in the oil industry if you work in Aberdeen”, I say, “do you ever work on the oil rigs?”

“Yes sometimes”

“All those fit hunky men together, offshore, there must be a lot of activities?”

“Yes”, he says in a matter of fact voice, “we have mutual wank sessions every Tuesday and Friday.”

“No, really?” I’m amazed.

“You’re very gullible, aren’t you!”

I guess I deserved that. I’m just getting ready to go when I notice that he’s fondling himself.

“Errr, do you mind if I cum again?”

“Not at all”, I say happily, “can I join in :-))”

But before we can get started he gets up and goes over to my gym kit. “Do you mind?” he asks.

“Mind what?”

“Well, I love smelling guy’s training shoes”. I find it hard not to laugh. Where do all these little fetishes that people have come from?

He sticks his nose in and takes a big whiff. He looks disappointed.

“Sorry”, I say, “I only got them last week”.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a jock-strap in your gym bag?” he says hopefully.

“No sorry”.

But he still seems up for another session. Where does he get it all from I find myself wondering a little later as the tiny cum droplets disperse themselves over an even wider area than last time?

Later, I decide that he must have got his gym kit fetish from, well, gym changing rooms. Before he properly came out to himself, my guess is that smelling jock-straps and trainers was his way of getting close to guys without actually doing anything gay. As fetishes go, I suppose it’s a relatively harmless one.