Me and my boyfriend Dave work 7 months of the year without a day off and sometimes, even though we live together, barely see each other. Opportunities to have sex with each other, let alone anyone else, are few and far between. As soon as the season finishes, we head to sunnier climes and so in early November we found ourselves in Lanzarote. No gay scene to offer but it was simply to recharge our batteries and get some sun.
We rarely ventured out of the apartment for 4 days except to walk down the beach every afternoon, away from the crowds, and slip out of all our clothes. Sometimes just lying there and seeing Dave's shaved cock made me horny as hell and we very quickly made up for what we'd missed when we had been working.
Our week in the sun was coming to an end but we decided to go out for a drink and a meal, we had passed a little bar that was thankfully empty of children a few times so called in for a glass of wine before going on to eat. When we arrived, there were 3 others in the bar so it was quiet and we sat at the bar. The owner, a lady, served us and engaged in some polite small talk. As we finished our drinks, another straight couple arrived, she carrying too much weight and he had sat down so I didn't notice his shape but he was wearing a smart shirt and jeans. They also engaged in some typical holiday conversation, moaning as Brits do about the food, the accommodation, the foreigners and especially the weather...
They explained they were early retired, both late 50s so about 10 years older than the 2 of us. They had been here for just over 3 weeks and seemingly Martin had been the life and soul of the bar's weekly theme night whilst his wife enjoyed karaoke which we were most fortunate to have missed. Out came the phone and we were 'treated' to photos of Martin dressed as an Indian, Martin in a toga. You get my drift. He had even, though no pictures to demonstrate, dressed in a mankini, Borat style. I tried to see if he had the physique but as he was dressed and seated like us at the bar, I admired his happy and enthusiastic demeanour if nothing else. He wasn't unattractive for his age, strawberry blond, blue eyed and clean shaven and had some colour from his stay. We exchanged more pleasantries and finished our drinks before departing, promising dishonestly to return again shortly.
Late the next morning, after I had tidied away breakfast and we had both showered, there was a knock at the door which I assumed would be the cleaner. In fact Martin stood there which took me aback but Dave had given him our apartment location 'overlooking the pool, halfway down' and he had come to the small complex and asked around until he found us. His wife and the bar owner had gone shopping and then to a spa on the other side of the island.
"Come in" I said and offered him a beer or a juice. Another thing the Brits do well is start drinking early so he and Dave took a beer, I opted for something soft. Most out of character!
He stood just under 5'11 and was at a guess 12 stone so average build but he was wearing a t-shirt so I could see he had kept in shape, which I commented on and he explained was due to him having been a carpenter all his life, carrying his toolkit and various pieces of heavy wood, furniture etc.
He asked to use the bathroom and off he went, seemingly to piss. He hadn't closed the door fully so we heard the splashing as the beer he had or the liquid refreshment from the night before perhaps hit the toilet water. I used the opportunity to give Dave my 'what the fuck?' look and he shrugged his shoulders, as neither of us knew why he had come round; we hardly knew him and he hadn't been invited. Still, we could always make some polite excuse, I thought.
He emerged from the bathroom and hilariously, stood there in only the mankini he had told us about. Bought from one of the shops selling tourist tat down on the front, it was getting it's second outing. Dave and I laughed, perhaps out of embarrassment, and Martin laughed too. I tried not to look at whether he filled the pouch part but admired further his arms and shoulders. To be far, I decided my original guess at his weight was wrong, he had perhaps an extra 10 pounds around his middle but wasn't overweight or indeed in bad shape for a man of his age.
"Nice," I said, "did it get you a prize or just a lot of women touching your arse?"
"A jug of sangria and the men were the worst" he said, explaining that in an effort to prove their masculinity, they almost all took a turn at pinching his bum. I wanted to ask if he would give us a twirl but guessed correctly that he had been asked by everybody the same thing the night he wore it. Seemingly the straight guys pinched real hard too and he said he had sore buttocks for about a week afterwards. I didn't really know what to say or do as he stood there so I went to the fridge and got him a second beer. It gave me a chance too to check out his cheeks for myself, they were round, firm and smooth, covered in the lightest amount of fine hair the same colour as his head, but in the mankini you could see they hadn't had any exposure to the sun unlike his legs and torso. I gave one of them a gentle squeeze and commented on the lack of colour. He laughed so I squeezed the other one too, he said I was far gentler than the husbands in the bar had been.
