Apologies if you don't like watersports, only a few of my stories involve yellow fun (which I enjoy). And this is one of them.
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When we first moved back to the UK from France, we started drinking in a gay bar in town, or at least the one bar in town owned and run by gay guys and with a majority gay clientele. We'd often have an early evening pint before dinner. One of the barmen was a cheeky but likeable guy about the same age as ourselves, very slightly overweight and a little camp but fun all the same and not someone I had ever thought of in a sexual way. He had worked in pubs for almost 25 years and remembered us from the gay bar in a neighbouring town from about 20 years previously when we were all in our mid twenties. To be honest, we didn't remember him but politely said that we did.
He had a complicated private life, an older husband and a younger lover on the side apparently which nobody knew about he said, but as we were simply customers or vague acquaintances then if he confided about his lover with us, you can be sure the whole town knew.
I like some wet fun but as far as I am aware, only Dave my partner knows that and has very occasionally indulged me, he has generally been quite happy for me to take quite a long time in the toilets when we visit sex clubs together and never asks questions, I sometimes return and find him otherwise engaged, albeit in a very vanilla kind of way. We generally play together. Not now having much access to the backroom bars of London or continental Europe, opportunities are pretty rare sadly.
I found a "classified ads" website to arrange the sale of some furniture when we moved as well as a removal man and van and noticed it had a section for hook ups. Having set up an account for messages with the removal man, plus having an account for the sale of a couple of antique pine boxes we no longer have room for... well, curiosity got the better of me and just before the pandemic I placed an ad saying how I was always thirsty but had restricted availability and travel issues, couldn't accommodate but was decent looking and wanted the same with a clean cock I could drink dry. I had even changed my profile and user name.
I received 2 replies, one from a guy who was in to heavier things than myself and another from someone who lived about 10 minutes on foot from our place. We both exchanged pictures, mine of myself in speedos and from the neck down and Mr Wet (the name he went by) also from the neck down wearing nothing at all. It wasn't the best photo but he was smooth all over which I like and had a small, uncut and unerect penis so I decided to see if he was up for meeting. I expected it just to be a timewasting exercise but he gave me a couple of options of what might be times we could meet and we settled on a Sunday afternoon. I knew Dave would be working and Mr Wet sent me his address which I looked up.
Sunday eventually came around and I had my usual late morning swim and then lunch. At ten minutes before the arranged time I set off nervously and excitedly to the address wearing some shorts and trainers plus an old tshirt. Under my shorts I wore a yellow and red jockstrap and my cockring and took a fresh bottle of poppers in case either of us fancied a hit. The shorts weren't too tight as I had to walk there looking half respectable and were loose enough to not draw attention to my bulge. The address was an enclosed block of flats near the market, and I rang the buzzer. I was let in to the complex and climbed to the first floor before knocking at the door.
A shock for me! It was Roger who answered. We both looked at each other, speechless, for what was only a few seconds in reality but felt like an eternity. I was glued to the spot, my excitement instantly replaced by a whole new set of emotions including embarrassment and my mind raced about trying to get out of the situation. I think Roger was experiencing something similar and then he finally spoke.