The time is 8.45 on Saturday night. I've just downloaded an app on my smartphone and created a profile.
"Shy bi guy looking for meets."
I upload a photo. I'm bare-chested, in jeans. No face.
Guys seem to flock to my hairy chest though.
Almost instantly, I'm getting messages. Some of them are from guys that are bottoms as well. A few are pleasant enough social messages; I have a bit of back and forth with those guys. A few are really just not my type. A few are interested but really want a face pic, something that I generally don't feel comfortable with.
Which is silly, but you know...
At 9.20, I get a message from J.
J: Hi, hot pic.
Me: Thanks. What are you up to?
It turns out J lives incredibly close to me, about 700ft, on a road where I used to live years back. He's a top, and fairly quickly we're negotiating what we might want from a meet. Because it's a first meet, and we're arranging it so quickly I tell him that I'd be interested mainly in sucking some cock.
"I love having my cock sucked."
He sends me some pics, some of his body, some of his face and a couple of his fat dick. I'm impressed. In fact, I'm licking my lips. Sure, he's a bit stockier than I'd normally like to be with, but he's pleasingly built and masculine and no alarm bells are ringing that he's a psychopath. And, he has whisky.
And I could be at the door at 10 minutes.
After a little discussion he says, "I need to take a shower. How does 10.15 sound?"
I reply, "fine."
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I spend a very tense 20 minutes getting ready. I quickly shower. It's funny, I sometimes flirt with meeting a guy for sex, but the sure fire way of knowing whether I'm really going to do it or not is always the shower. That means I've made my decision.
I put on a sweater, jeans and some cheap H+M sneakers with no socks. It's a warm August evening.
While I'm waiting for him to get out of the shower and to message me back, I'm browsing online looking for anything to distract me from the nervous sexual tension I'm feeling. Then I get a message. "I'm out of the shower. Just message me when you get to the door and I'll buzz you up."
On my way there, I'm terrified I'll bump into somebody I know, though there's no way of them knowing the slutty thoughts in my head. But I get to the door, message him, and I find myself walking up to the top floor.
The door is open as I arrive. I say hi, a little sheepishly, and he says to me just to go to the bedroom while he pours me a whisky. He can tell that I'm nervous, so he pours me a good long finger of the stuff. As I take the glass, my hand is shaking as I drink but the warm liquid going down my throat soon calms me down as I look up to him standing above me. He certainly is stocky, but much taller than I'd imagined. I'm sitting on the bed and he's in a swivel arm chair. I'm breathing deeply, and he gently says to me "just drink that, mate."
After a couple of minutes of charged silence, we put down our glasses on the bedside table and I climb down onto the floor, my hands reaching out to the crotch of his jeans. He says, "take off your clothes."
I take my sweater over my head and, looking at my naked chest, he says "I'm liking this." His hands move down to caress my chest hair and nipples as I rub his cock under his clothes. I then sit back so as to take off my shoes and jeans, and simultaneously he takes off his top. I start to unbutton him, and when his jeans are half ways down his legs, he finishes the job and takes off his trousers.
I'm naked in front of a hairy 6ft4" guy with strong legs who's wearing nothing but his underwear.