Donald was driving from Glasgow airport to visit his friend Archie in Oban. He was getting close now, passing Dalmally. Just the last stretch then he would be turning in to Cairns Ave. He was looking forward to his visit to Archie, just like he always did.
Donald had known Archie for nearly 10 years. He thought back to the first time when he had been taken there by Maurice and had stayed with Archie for the night. He smiled as he remembered how critical Archie had been when he had seen that Donald was wearing a plain kilt, not a tartan one. What an unexpected and unlikely start to a long friendship.
This time Donald had on a MacDonald tartan kilt instead of the usual Royal Stewart. He knew that Archie preferred the Royal Stewart and there was still that old one waiting for him at Cairns Ave, hanging up in the cupboard in the spare bedroom. He would put that on the next day so that Archie wouldn't be disappointed.
There was another difference. Donald was wearing an old pair of green trews under his kilt. Not that unusual to be wearing undershorts since he had been wearing his Royal Stewart tartan ones when he left Archie last time. It had been very cold for the journey down to Glasgow and they were warm. He knew that Archie preferred him with little white briefs under his kilt and, again, he would wear them for Archie tomorrow. There were several pairs in his case, washed, clean, and ready. Archie could choose which ones he preferred. But Donald found it more comfortable to travel with trews under his kilt rather than the wee skimpy briefs which Archie liked so much.
Some of the pants that Archie wanted him to wear were so small that Donald could barely get his man parts in to the pouch. True, he generally wore a cock ring, like he was wearing now, which had the effect of emphasising and pushing his balls out. What with the ring and his already oversized cock, he was a lot bigger down there than the designers of the briefs usually allowed. He had to either fold his flaccid penis down over his balls or else sideways, turned back on itself, just to squeeze it all in. It always felt quite cramped. There was no way it fitted in when he became aroused. No doubt Archie liked seeing the bulge when Donald got in that state, as he often did in his company.
The trews Donald was wearing had been bought from a Highland Outfitter in Edinburgh, many years previously. Contrary to popular belief, not all kilted Scotsmen go bare underneath and, at least in those days, some outfitters recognised this. This style of short was sold specifically for wearing under the kilt. Tartan ones were also available but only made to measure, and they were a lot more expensive. The plain dark green colour was suitable for under most tartans.
Donald remembered how the elderly shop assistant who sold him the original three pairs had commented that they were quite 'racy'! That was a really old fashioned term but the assistant was right. Donald remembered how he had become slightly aroused even trying them on in the shop. They were short in the leg and cut quite wide, so that the tip of Donald's cock must have been visible to the assistant when he had checked to see how they fitted. That didn't seem too bad a failing. The width did allow his flaccid penis and testicles to hang quite naturally down the left leg. Donald always dressed with his sex on the left side. It felt better that way since his penis had a slight bend in that direction. He might well have considered not wearing anything at all underneath as he on several occasions, but Donald preferred the comfort of pants and knew that if the tartan blew up, as it sometimes did in the West Coast breeze, he would be fully modest.
As Donald remembered that time in the outfitters and the thought of meeting Archie again, he felt the first stirrings of an erection. He could feel his cock growing down the leg of his shorts. Would that happen when he arrived at Cairns Avenue?
Now he was there. Donald walked up to the front door, kilt swinging nicely. Archie was waiting for him in the hall. They hugged and kissed each other passionately. It was lovely to be back.
Then there was the ritual of tea and biscuits. Archie wanted Donald to sit in the chair opposite. That way he could see up his kilt. Donald wondered what his reaction would be to the little green trews instead of the preferred white briefs. As Donald sat drinking his tea the sight of Archie trying to see up was enough to rouse him slightly. When Archie asked Donald to lift his kilt up to see better that was the trigger for more serious arousal. When he looked down, Donald was surprised to find that his cock was already sticking out of the leg of the trews. Such was the effect that Archie was having on him.
Archie could see it too and he was enjoying every minute. At the first glimpse he had been deeply disappointed that Donald wasn't wearing the tiny white briefs he liked so much. He had been looking forward to admiring and feeling them then peeling them down the way he usually did. He smiled to himself as he remembered the discussion they had had about it.
Donald had asked why he liked the briefs so much when all he wanted to do was to pull them down. Wouldn't it be better for Donald not to wear any pants at all? Archie had tried to explain that it was first of all the contrast of virginal white cotton against the darker tartan. Then there were the contours of Donald's rounded bum under the back of the little briefs. Then there was the pouch part at the front, bulging with Donald's large sex. Archie liked to finger and fondle it through the thin material. Then came the actual pulling down of the briefs. That was one of the most exciting bits. He remembered Donald telling him to 'stop havering'! He didn't think that Donald had properly understood why he liked the briefs so much but he was just glad that he wore them for him.
