I first met Carl through an online dating service in the male seeking male category. Having never been with a man before, I was apprehensive about getting together. I kept debating in my mind if I should. Finally turning my longtime fantasy into reality had won out.
Nervous, I went to his place of business where he had suggested in an earlier e-mail we get together. Meeting him for the first time, I saw Carl was a big man. Stocky, with thinning hair and in his mid-sixties, he wore glasses and had a huge pot belly. He struck me as an old football lineman long gone to seed. I knew he was gay from our online chats.
I'm older, too, but years younger than Carl. I realize it was late in life for a man-to-man encounter, but, as I said, it was a longtime fantasy. I'm slender with a bubble butt. I have hair on my head but nearly none on my body. Over time, I've learned most people view me as above average in looks.
At the time, it was early spring weather so I was wearing a pullover sweater with jeans and Carl was dressed in jogger's sweatpants with a tee-shirt beneath a light jacket.
Carl was an upholsterer. He used his shop for his business. Walk-in customers were infrequent, with most of his jobs being done by appointment. Retired from a longtime career with a big company, his self-employment appeared to me to be more hobby than business to me.
He confirmed my thoughts by telling me a main purpose of his shop was to serve as a meeting place for sexual encounters. He never invited anyone to his home. He repeated a comment from his online profile. "I'm looking for casual sex, not a long term relationship." His profile had also noted he was strictly a top wanting a bottom.
We were the only two people in his out-of-the-way building and after a few moments of conversation, Carl invited me into the back. After following him through a cluttered workshop area, I stepped into a small room. A pair of bare bulbs hung from the ceiling and the floor was concrete with a small carpet square fronting a rolled arm couch and matching chair.
The couch and chair looked like castaways; their well worn fabric was ripped and soiled. The carpet was filthy. A stack of male porn movies sat on a fold-out table. A television and its disc player sat on a wooden side table across the room.
A tiny washroom with sink and stool was inset in the back wall. The room's front wall held an old door with an upper window glass leading out to a four car parking lot. Blinds over the door glass were open, allowing Carl sight of anyone approaching his business. The armchair was positioned so an occupant could watch a movie and the lot at the same time.
Shutting the door to the workshop behind me as I entered the back room, Carl grabbed me by the arm and twirled me into a bear hug of an embrace. Then, lowering his face to mine, he kissed me fully on the lips, his tongue probing past them into my mouth. Although surprised by Carl's sudden contact, I reacted by dueling his tongue with my own, swapping and tasting him. There was a different feel to kissing a man, I thought. With my lack of resistance, he let his hands slip down to cup my ass cheeks grinding his pelvis into mine. I could feel the length of his stiff cock pressing against me.
