Some 30 years ago I wrote, with pen and paper, a long history of my gay sexual experiences, from my first sexual fumblings – right up to the day of writing. Then I added events and chapters as they happened for the next ten years or so, ceasing only when time and freedom ran out and then I found out all about computers so I transferred everything into electronic words.
The whole thing was too long and rambling but that didn't matter because I never intended to publish my sexual autobiography. However, since I hit my 60s, (and now my 70s) I've felt that I should really let others partake in some of the fun that I enjoyed.
So I've attacked and divided up the story, edited it to the best of my ability, made it more readable and turned it into eight parts for you to read.
The original writing was also very much in my 1980's/90's style – comparatively polite and lacking conversation, so I hope that my efforts to liven the stories up meet with your approval.
And the stories are in English from England, so please put up with my British spellings and phraseology.
This therefore is the SEVENTH of those segments of my life – "Mark and me plus Terry again".
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Before I lost track of Terry, I was having an enjoyably idle period between jobs and I was at my local pub one night when I met a bloke named Mark who came from Sydney in Australia. We began talking and I found that he was taking a year off to tour Britain to explore his roots. He'd come over from Australia with his girlfriend, but she'd had to return about a month previously to continue with her job and he was now touring alone.
He also happened to be looking for somewhere to stay for a few nights while he explored the locality and in exchange for a few notes, a bit of food and a bottle of wine, I was happy to let him stay at my place since there were three bedrooms and just me at home. He seemed to be pleasant enough company and we enjoyed a bar meal together and consumed a fair amount of booze as well.
On that very first night that he stayed, the weather became really cold. It dropped to well below freezing – and it snowed too just to make it feel even colder. Regrettably, in my yet-to-be-improved home I had no central heating and although there were two large gas fires which warmed most of the ground floor they did little to heat up the rest of the house and in my out-of-work situation I wasn't willing to leave them running all night. I was so unprepared for cold weather that I didn't even possess a single hot-water bottle and so Mark, who much preferred warmer conditions, retired to bed early muttering rude things about the weather, intending to wrap himself up and get warmer. It really was a chilly night and it wasn't much later that I too was heading upstairs, removing only my shoes and trousers as I clambered into my double bed.
Soon after I'd snuggled down although still shivering with cold, Mark came into my room, still almost fully dressed, to say that he was absolutely freezing.
"Never knew Britain could get this bloody cold!" he moaned, his arms wrapped around himself, "I'm solid ice."
"Wish I could do something to help," I said, feeling the chill myself, "I'll make you a hot drink if it'll help warm you..."
"Nah, got enough liquid inside me, thanks," he said through chattering teeth, "Do you reckon I could come in there with you mate?"
I readily agreed; after all, we were both still wearing our clothes; it was bloody cold and his extra body warmth would help warm the bed. I don't think that either of us had anything sexual in mind at that moment.
We snuggled up back to back together but so chilled were we that sleep was unwilling to arrive and so we found ourselves chattering quietly.
Mark did most of the talking, telling me about his home and his job in Sydney and about his travels around the globe. He told me how much he missed his girlfriend Wendy and especially his sex life with her and how alone he'd been feeling. He expressed how much he appreciated my company and I told him that he was welcome and that I envied him and also sympathised with him about his loss of his sex life...and then the ice began to break as the subject of sex became dominant.
"At least you can always have a wank," I said, "Better than nothing!"
"Not so easy to rub one out while you're travelling around," he replied, "Anyway I much prefer to have a good fuck. Hah, I haven't even had that recently though, have I?"
"Why not, are you staying faithful to your girlfriend then?" I asked.
"Nah mate, she's away and what she doesn't know about won't matter!" he said with a chuckle, "Mind you, I haven't even found anyone to do that with these last few weeks."
"I guess that's another problem with travelling," I agreed, "So how's your girlfriend going to get on?"
"Bet she's shagging someone else by now," he said ruefully.
"Horny sort, was she?" I asked and Mark hummed his reply.
"Mmmmmm, very," he said, "Always wanting me to poke her. Oh fuck, couldn't half do with screwing her right now; I reckon it's the best part of three weeks since my last shag!"
"Hard luck," I sympathised, realising that it was several months since I last had a fuck, "That's the way it goes sometimes; just have to put up with these things."
"Guess so," said Mark with a yawn, "Ought to try to go to sleep; mind if I roll over up against you?"
"No, snuggle up," I answered, still chilled by the night air, "Just don't breathe all over the back of my neck!"
We'd made ourselves comfy as we lay in bed and now, with Mark having turned over we became 'spooned' together – he was snuggled against my back and gradually we became warmer and warmer. As we did so we began to shed various articles of clothing until we were warm enough to be just wearing our underpants and socks but still we remained close together because even inside the bed it was only mildly comfy.
And then, as Mark wriggled around behind me I felt what just had to be his penis pressing against the cheeks of my arse and immediately my own cock began to rise and stiffen. Almost automatically I gently pressed my arse back at him and as I did so I could feel the growing hardness of his penis against me.
"You ok?" I asked, wanting to break the silence and wanting to find out if he knew what he was doing.
"I still can't sleep," he murmured, "Still feel chilly."
He snuggled closer still and I could feel his cock squashed between us and wanting to give my own erection some freedom I slid it out through the slit in my underpants, stroking my stiff shaft as I did so.
Mark's chest was now against my back and I could feel his breathing coming faster now as his penis pulsed against my arse and I knew that sex was about to become a reality.
"If you're still cold, put your arm over me," I suggested, actually forgetting that my erection was poking out, "It might help a bit."
"Yeah thanks," he answered and a moment later his cool hand slid over my hip – and fell down right onto my iron hard cock!
"Oh fuck!" he muttered, but instead of removing his hand, his fingers closed around my penis, gripping me tightly, "Jeeez Chris, that feels so good!"
He let go for a moment and I felt his hand move down between us and a moment or two later I felt the heat of his penis as it slid between my legs, rubbing against my perineum – then his hand returned and grasped my cock again.
"Fuckin' hell mate, you're so hard!" he breathed as his hand slid up and down my cock, "You want to play, do you?"
"Mmmmm," I murmured in reply, "Love to!"
I slid my hand down between my legs and let his penis slide over my palm, feeling the slipperiness of his lubricating knob and the urgency of his need and I knew that we needed to adjust ourselves.
