Please note that although essentially a true story, I almost always carry condoms (just in case) and on this day it was no exception. No condom, no anal. But for the purpose of this story I have omitted their use.
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If I were to score myself on a scale of 1 to 10 as to how gay I am, I'd be around the 11 mark. Not in terms of camp or compensatory butchness, just in terms of same sex (and indeed opposite sex) attraction. No interest in women.
I think that's what puts people at ease with me. Or us, my boyfriend Dave is about an 11 too. So nothing is hidden and nothing is flaunted, what you see is what you get.
Not long after we moved to northern France, Dave had to go and sort some business out in London. He could get there the same day as his appointment but couldn't return until the following day so he was going to sleep at the house of some friends of ours. I had worked until 14h00 and it was an unusually mild and sunny afternoon for mid March so I cycled to Le Touquet, about 4 miles from our house. The morning had been dull, indeed it was supposed to be grey all day but as often happens at the coast, the weather can change quickly.
I took my backpack, empty except for a bottle of water, to buy some provisions after a walk south down the beach. It was an area I had never visited before, as previously we had only ever been in the town centre. And if the weather was really nice, there were better beaches close by. But just out of town there used to be a naturist beach, closed by the Mayor some years ago. And I was curious to see the location. I headed away from the promenade and passed the last hotel and apartments. The beach was a lovely yellow soft sand and became a little more hilly, the dunes eventually backed by a pine forest at the other side of which was a holiday village, still closed until the 1st of April. It seems the campsites, caravan and mobile home parks can only open for exactly 6 months of the year, and close again on the 30th of September. Often it stays warm in October, usually my favourite month as if it is nice weather then you aren't queuing, being hassled or fighting for space anywhere.
I found a little dip and the slope of the sand faced the sun so I sat a while just listening to the waves and the birds overhead and in the trees behind me. It was pleasant, almost warm enough to bathe as the dip offered protection from the breeze, so I removed my light jacket and lay on it, with my top as a pillow, leaving me wearing my t-shirt and jeans. I closed my eyes and thought how lucky we were, after the cold spring, to be blessed with such a fine day. I heard voices. Men's voices. I opened my eyes and stood up. Just a few metres in front of me were 2 guys, both carrying medium sized rucksack, wearing three quarter shorts and good quality sneakers. One guy was shorter than the other, about mid 30s, very slightly stockier, and had facial stubble and tousled hair. His companion was younger, perhaps mid 20s, slimmer and seemingly smoother. I would have guessed everywhere.
They introduced themselves as Antoine and Louis, Antoine the older of the two. They had caught a train from Paris to the stop before Touquet, and Antoine's wife and 2 children had stayed on the train to Boulogne where she was being met by her parents. Antoine and Louis had spent the day hiking up the coast and were to pitch their tent illegally on the beach once the sun went down and then continue to Boulogne tomorrow where they would all meet up for an evening 'en famille' before returning together to Paris by train the following day. They explained that they were work colleagues and Antoine had a tent from his days at college.
We chatted a while and it transpired Louis had just been dumped by his girlfriend, hence they were getting a break away from his miserable existence and Antoine's in-laws, at least for tonight.
"Wife and or kids?" asked Antoine.
"No, I'm gay, neither wife nor kids" I told him.
"Cool," he said, "which of us two would the guys go for? Louis doesn't have much luck with women."