I found I had a carefree weekend on my hands, so I had driven into the small town to answer an ad for a classic Triumph convertible that I might want to add to my collection. But I had been up and down the Park Street address given in the ad several times without finding the house I was looking for. So, I just parked my car and started hunting on foot. I did find the address, but no one seemed to be home. There wasn't any evidence of the Triumph, either.
I looked around, hoping to find a neighbor or someone I could ask about the car, when I saw them, there, across the street. They were both looking mighty fine. The car was a 1963 Pontiac Tempest convertible in pristine condition, and the guy working on the car seemed to be in pretty pristine condition as well. I was sure I was in luck. This guy must be a classic car buff as well and would be able to tell me about the Triumph. But my foot wasn't even off the curb before I forgot all about the Triumph I'd come to see.
As I crossed the street, I kept my eye on the young man. He was smiling very enticingly, and I saw him slowly move the wrench he was holding to his crotch and move it up and down against the taut material. The move provided an unmistakable message. When I reached him, I started to speak, but he turned and walked around to the trunk of the Tempest, in the shadows from the buildings on either side of the drive. I followed him around to the back of the car to where I faced him, very close, but not touching. My eyes were locked on his, and the lust in his eyes was almost electric. He sat back on the car's trunk and, winding his left hand around the back of my neck, he pulled my face to his. Our lips met in a lingering and tender kiss. I felt my dick coming alive, uncoiling in my pants, pushing against the fabric. And suddenly there was other pressure down there. The man's right hand had found me and his fingers were following my growing hard on from the root down to the head. I felt his intake of breath, as he got a sense of my measure. But I knew he would be even more surprised when I was fully engorged.
Our lips parted and he pulled his face away, looking at me imploringly. I tugged at his net T-shirt, and he raised his muscled arms, as I pulled the shirt over his head. I grabbed his left wrist and brought his fingers to my mouth, where I, took the fingers, individually, into my mouth and sucked on them. With his right hand, he tugged my shirt out of my trousers on both sides and started unbuttoning my shirt. I worked my mouth down his finely muscled arm and buried my face in the curly black hair of his armpit. He was extremely hirsute. There was black curly hair everywhere on his body as far as I could see, but especially around his pecs, down across his abs, and trailing down into the front of his tight jeans.
His right hand had found my nipples and was gliding across my chest from one nipple to the other, rubbing, rolling, and gently pinching them until they stood erect under his attention. That wasn't the only thing that was standing erect on me now. My dick was growing, pressing out, wanting to be free. But even more pressing was that inviting well-muscled hairy chest that heaved below me.
I took both of my hands and pressed them to his chest. I hunted through his curly chest hair until I had ferreted out his nipples, and then I first rubbed and then flicked his nipples, which stood up at attention, and then I moved my fingers in swirls through his chest hair and then down to his washboard belly. I returned to working his nipples and chest hair with my left hand, while my right hand followed the trail of hair down beyond his belly, across his beltless jeans, and down to where I could feel his rod pushing at the tight jeans, getting very hard, but unable to stand up. I followed the line of his dick down along the side of his thigh, and began to stroke, in regular downward movements.
The man shuddered underneath me, and having finished unbuttoning my shirt, he took both hands and pulled the shirt up and off my body. He then dove his hands down to the front of my trousers and, struggling slightly, unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, pushed both my trousers and briefs down my legs as far as he could, and encircled my dick with both of his hands.
He gasped at the size of me and looked straight into my eyes, his awe and need expressed in that look. His left hand released my cock and his right hand traveled down the length of that rod and moved to exploring my balls. With his left hand, he grabbed my tie, which was still dangling around my neck, and pulled me back down to him, to his lips, which opened, as did mine, and our tongues expressed our mutual need.
My hands went down to his jeans. I unsnapped them and slowly unbuttoned his fly and peeled the jeans down to his knees. He wasn't wearing anything under the jeans, and his cock flew up and out of the jeans like a jack in the box. He pulled his lips away from mine so that he could laugh and grin. I grinned back at him, and we dove back into our lip lock. But only briefly, as I pulled away from him and reached down and unpeeled his tight jeans the rest of the way off his legs. His loafers came off as well, as I pulled the jeans free. He wasn't wearing any socks.
So, now he was completely naked there before me, in all his hairy glory. He was perfectly formed, rock solid muscle. Rock solid muscle covered with black curly hair that swirled around his nipples and down the front of his belly and around his hard cock and then down his muscled thighs and calves as well.